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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Aeneid of Virgil, by Virgil
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Aeneid of Virgil
+       Translated into English Verse by E. Fairfax Taylor
+
+Author: Virgil
+
+Editor: Ernest Rhys
+
+Commentator: Maine J. P.
+
+Translator: Edward Fairfax Taylor
+
+Release Date: May 28, 2006 [EBook #18466]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AENEID OF VIRGIL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ron Swanson
+
+
+
+
+
+EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY
+EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS
+
+CLASSICAL
+
+THE AENEID OF VIRGIL
+
+THE SAGES OF OLD LIVE AGAIN IN US.
+                             GLANVILL
+
+
+
+
+The AENEID OF VIRGIL
+
+TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE BY
+E. FAIRFAX TAYLOR
+
+
+
+
+LONDON: PUBLISHED by J. M. DENT & SONS LTD.
+AND IN NEW YORK BY E. P. DUTTON & CO.
+
+
+
+
+_First issue of this Edition 1907._
+_Reprinted 1910._
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Virgil--Publius Vergilius Maro--was born at Andes near Mantua, in
+the year 70 B.C. His life was uneventful, though he lived in stirring
+times, and he passed by far the greater part of it in reading his
+books and writing his poems, undisturbed by the fierce civil strife
+which continued to rage throughout the Roman Empire, until Octavian,
+who afterwards became the Emperor Augustus, defeated Antony at the
+battle of Actium. Though his father was a man of humble origin, Virgil
+received an excellent education, first at Cremona and Milan, and
+afterwards at Rome. He was intimate with all the distinguished men
+of his time, and a personal friend of the Emperor. After the
+publication of his second work, the _Georgics_, he was recognized
+as being the greatest poet of his age, and the most striking figure
+in the brilliant circle of literary men, which was centred at the
+Court. He died at Brindisi in the spring of 19 B.C. whilst returning
+from a journey to Greece, leaving his greatest work, the _Aeneid_,
+written but unrevised. It was published by his executors, and
+immediately took its place as the great national Epic of the Roman
+people. Virgil seems to have been a man of simple, pure, and loveable
+character, and the references to him in the works of Horace clearly
+show the affection with which he was regarded by his friends.
+
+Like every cultivated Roman of that age, Virgil was a close student
+of the literature and philosophy of the Greeks, and his poems bear
+eloquent testimony to the profound impression made upon him by his
+reading of the Greek poets. His first important work, the _Eclogues_,
+was directly inspired by the pastoral poems of Theocritus, from whom
+he borrowed not only much of his imagery but even whole lines; in
+the _Georgics_ he took as his model the _Works and Days_ of Hesiod,
+and though in the former case it must be confessed that he suffers
+from the weakness inherent in all imitative poetry, in the latter
+he far surpasses the slow and simple verses of the Boeotian. But here
+we must guard ourselves against a misapprehension. We moderns look
+askance at the writer who borrows without acknowledgment the
+thoughts and phrases of his forerunners, but the Roman critics of
+the Augustan Age looked at the matter from a different point of view.
+They regarded the Greeks as having set the standard of the highest
+possible achievement in literature, and believed that it should be
+the aim of every writer to be faithful, not only to the spirit, but
+even to the letter of their great exemplars. Hence it was only natural
+that when Virgil essayed the task of writing the national Epic of
+his country, he should be studious to embody in his work all that
+was best in Greek Epic poetry.
+
+It is difficult in criticizing Virgil to avoid comparing him to some
+extent with Homer. But though Virgil copied Homer freely, any
+comparison between them is apt to be misleading. A primitive epic,
+like the _Iliad_ or the _Nibelungenlied_, produced by an imaginative
+people at an early stage in its development, telling its stories
+simply for the sake of story telling, cannot be judged by the same
+canons of criticism as a literary epic like the _Aeneid_ or _Paradise
+Lost_, which is the work of a great poet in an age of advanced culture,
+and sets forth a great idea in a narrative form. The Greek writer
+to whom Virgil owes most perhaps, is Apollonius of Rhodes, from whose
+_Argonautica_ he borrowed the love interest of the _Aeneid_. And
+though the Roman is a far greater poet, in this instance the advantage
+is by no means on his side, for, as Professor Gilbert Murray has so
+well said, 'the Medea and Jason of the _Argonautica_ are at once more
+interesting and more natural than their copies, the Dido and Aeneas
+of the _Aeneid_. The wild love of the witch-maiden sits curiously
+on the queen and organizer of industrial Carthage; and the two
+qualities which form an essential part of Jason--the weakness which
+makes him a traitor, and the deliberate gentleness which contrasts
+him with Medea--seem incongruous in the father of Rome.' But though
+Virgil turned to the Greek epics for the general framework and many
+of the details of his poem, he always remains master of his materials,
+and stamps them with the impress of his own genius. The spirit which
+inspires the _Aeneid_ is wholly Roman, and the deep faith in the
+National Destiny, and stern sense of duty to which it gives
+expression, its profoundly religious character and stately and
+melodious verse, have always caused it to be recognized as the
+loftiest expression of the dignity and greatness of Rome at her best.
+But the sympathetic reader will be conscious of a deeper and more
+abiding charm in the poetry of Virgil. Even in his most splendid
+passages his verses thrill us with a strange pathos, and his
+sensitiveness to unseen things--things beautiful and sad--has
+caused a great writer, himself a master of English prose, to speak
+of 'his single words and phrases, his pathetic half lines, giving
+utterance as the voice of Nature herself to that pain and weariness,
+yet hope of better things, which is the experience of her children
+in every age.'
+
+The task of translating such a writer at all adequately may well seem
+to be an almost impossible one; and how far any of the numerous
+attempts to do so have succeeded, is a difficult question. For not
+only does the stated ideal at which the translator should aim, vary
+with each generation, but perhaps no two lovers of Virgil would agree
+at any period as to what this ideal should be. Two general principles
+stand out from the mass of conflicting views on this point. The
+translation should read as though it were an original poem, and it
+should produce on the modern reader as far as possible the same effect
+as the original produced on Virgil's contemporaries. And here we
+reach the real difficulty, for the scholar who can alone judge what
+that effect may have been, is too intimate with the original to see
+clearly the merits of a translation, and the man who can only read
+the translation can form no opinion. However, it seems clear that
+a prose translation can never really satisfy us, because it must
+always be wanting in the musical quality of continuous verse. And
+our critical experience bears this out, since even Professor Mackail
+with all his literary skill and insight has failed to make his version
+of the _Aeneid_ more than a very valuable aid to the student of the
+original. The meaning of the poet is fully expressed, but his music
+has been lost. That oft-quoted line--
+
+   'Sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt'
+
+haunts us like Tennyson's
+
+                          'When unto dying eyes
+    The casement slowly grows a glimmering square,'
+
+and no prose rendering can hope to convey the poignancy and pathos
+of the original. The ideal translation, then, must be in verse, and
+perhaps the best way for us to determine which style and metre are
+most suited to convey to the modern reader an impression of the charm
+of Virgil, will be to take a brief glance at some of the best-known
+of the verse translations which have appeared.
+
+The first translation of the _Aeneid_ into English verse was that
+of Gawin Douglas, bishop of Dunkeld in Scotland, which was published
+in 1553. It is a spirited translation, marked by considerable native
+force and verisimilitude, and it was certainly unsurpassed until
+that of Dryden appeared. In the best passages it renders the tone
+and feeling of the original with extreme felicity--indeed, all but
+perfectly. Take for instance this passage from the Sixth Book--
+
+   'Thai walking furth fa dyrk, oneth thai wyst
+    Quhidder thai went, amyd dym schaddowys thar,
+    Quhar evir is nycht, and nevir lyght dois repar,
+    Throwout the waist dongion of Pluto Kyng,
+    Thai voyd boundis, and that gowsty ryng:
+    Siklyke as quha wold throw thik woddis wend
+    In obscure licht, quhen moyn may nocht be kenned;
+    As Jupiter the kyng etheryall,
+    With erdis skug hydis the hevynnys all
+    And the myrk nycht, with her vissage gray,
+    From every thing hes reft the hew away.'
+
+But in spite of its merits, its dialect wearies the modern reader,
+and gives it an air of grotesqueness which is very alien to the spirit
+of the Latin. One other sixteenth-century translation deserves
+notice, as it was written by one who was himself a distinguished poet;
+namely, the version of the second and fourth books of the _Aeneid_
+written by Henry, Earl of Surrey. It gained the commendation of that
+stern critic Ascham, who praises Surrey for avoiding rhyme, but
+considers that he failed to 'fully hit perfect and true versifying';
+which is hardly a matter for wonder since English blank verse was
+then in its infancy. But it has some fine passages--notably the one
+which relates the death of Dido--
+
+   'As she had said, her damsell might perceue
+    Her with these wordes fal pearced on a sword
+    The blade embrued and hands besprent with gore.
+    The clamor rang unto the pallace toppe,
+    The brute ranne throughout al thastoined towne,
+    With wailing great, and women's shrill yelling,
+    The roofs gan roare, the aire resound with plaint,
+    As though Cartage, or thauncient town of Tyre
+    With prease of entred enemies swarmed full,
+    Or when the rage of furious flame doth take
+    The temples toppes, and mansions eke of men.'
+
+Of the translations into modern English, that of Dryden may still
+be said to stand first, in spite of its lack of fidelity. It owes
+its place to its sustained vigour, and the fact that the heroic
+couplet is in the hands of a master. In its way nothing could be better
+than--
+
+   '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.'
+
+But though the heroic couplet may have conveyed to Dryden's age
+something of the effect of the Virgilian hexameter, it does nothing
+of the kind to us. Probably we are prejudiced in the matter by Pope's
+Homer.
+
+Professor Conington's translation certainly has spirit and energy,
+but he was decidedly unfortunate in his choice of metre. To attempt
+to render 'the stateliest measure ever moulded by the lips of man'
+by fluent octosyllabics was bound to result in incongruity, as in
+the following passage, where the sombre warning of the Sibyl to
+Aeneas becomes merely a sprightly reminder that--
+
+   'The journey down to the abyss
+      Is prosperous and light,
+    The palace gates of gloomy Dis
+      Stand open day and night;
+    But upward to retrace the way
+    And pass into the light of day,
+    There comes the stress of labour; this
+      May task a hero's might.'
+
+The various attempts that have been made to translate the poem in
+the metre of the original have all been sad failures. And from Richard
+Stanyhurst, whom Thomas Nash described as treading 'a foul,
+lumbering, boistrous, wallowing measure, in his translation of
+Virgil,' down to our own time, no one has succeeded in avoiding faults
+of monotony and lack of poetical quality. A short extract from Dr.
+Crane's translation will illustrate this very clearly--
+
+                                    'No species of hardships,
+    Longer, O maiden, arises before me as strange and unlooked for:
+    All things have I foreknown, and in soul have already endured them.
+    One special thing I crave, since here, it is said, that the gateway
+    Stands of the monarch infernal, and refluent Acheron's dark pool:
+    Let it be mine to go down to the sight and face of my cherished
+    Father, and teach me the way, and the sacred avenues open.'
+
+Nor is William Morris' attempt to devise a new metre anything but
+disappointing. It is surprising that so delightfully endowed a poet
+should have so often missed the music of Virgil's verse as he has
+done in his translation, and the archaisms with which his work
+abounds, though they might be suitable in a translation of Homer,
+are only a source of irritation in the case of Virgil.
+
+For the best metre to use we must look in a different direction.
+Virgil made use of the dactylic hexameter because it was the literary
+tradition of his day that epics should be written in that metre. In
+the same way it might be argued, the English tradition points to blank
+verse as the correct medium. This may be so, but its use demands that
+the translator should be as great a poet as Virgil. Had Tennyson ever
+translated the _Aeneid_, it would doubtless have been as nearly
+faultless as any translation could be, as is shown by the version
+of Sir Theodore Martin, which owes so much of its stately charm to
+its close adherence to the manner of Tennyson. A typical passage is
+the description of Dido's love for Aeneas--
+
+   'Soothsayers, ah! how little do they know!
+    Of what avail are temples, vows, and prayers,
+    To quell a raging passion? All the while
+    A subtle flame is smouldering in her veins,
+    And in her heart a silent aching wound.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+                             Now Dido leads
+    Aeneas round the ramparts, to him shows
+    The wealth of Sidon, all the town laid out,
+    Begins to speak, then stops, she knows not why.
+    Now, as day wanes, the feast of yesterday
+    She gives again, again with fevered lips
+    Begs for the tale of Troy and all its woes,
+    And hangs upon his lips, who tells the tale.
+    Then, when the guests are gone and in her turn
+    The wan moon pales her light, and waning stars
+    Persuade to sleep, she in her empty halls
+    Mourns all alone, and throws herself along
+    The couch where he had lain: though he be gone
+    Far from her side, she hears and sees him still.'
+
+Of the merits of the present translation the reader will judge for
+himself; but it may perhaps be said of the usual objections urged
+against the Spenserian stanza--that it is cumbrous and monotonous,
+and presents difficulties of construction--that the two former
+criticisms will be just or the reverse, according to the skill of
+the writer, while it is quite possible that the last is really an
+advantage, for the intricate machinery imposes a restraint on
+careless or hasty composition. And finally we must turn a deaf ear,
+even to so high an authority as Matthew Arnold, when he says that
+it is not suited to the grand manner. When he said this he cannot
+have remembered either the lament of Florimell in the _Faerie Queene_
+or the conclusion of _Childe Harold_.
+
+                                              J. P. MAINE.
+
+
+
+
+Edward Fairfax Taylor, whose translation of the _Aeneid_ is now
+published, was descended from the Taylors of Norwich, a family well
+known for their culture and intellectual gifts. He was the only son
+of John Edward Taylor, himself an accomplished German and Italian
+scholar, and the first translator of the _Pentamerone_ into English,
+who lived at Weybridge near his aunt, Mrs. Sarah Austin. Brought up
+among books, young Taylor early showed an intense love for classical
+literature, and soon after going to Marlborough he began the present
+translation as a boy of sixteen. His admiration for Spenser led him
+to adopt the Spenserian stanza, and in the preface to his translation
+of the first two books he gives detailed reasons for considering it
+peculiarly well adapted for the _Aeneid_. He was a favourite pupil
+of the late Dr. Bradley, Dean of Westminster, at that time headmaster
+of Marlborough, and who much wished that he should follow in the
+footsteps of 'that brilliant band of Marlborough men,' as they have
+been called, who at that time, year after year, gained the Balliol
+scholarship. But circumstances made him decide otherwise, and in
+1865 he passed the necessary examination for a clerkship in the House
+of Lords. The long vacations gave him time to continue this labour
+of love, and in the intervals of much other literary work, and in
+spite of ill health, he completed the translation of the twelve books
+of the _Aeneid_. He looked forward to re-editing it and bringing it
+out when he should have retired from his work in the House of Lords,
+but this day never came, and he died from heart disease in January
+1902. His was a singularly charming disposition, and he was beloved
+by all who knew him; while the courage and patience with which he
+bore ever-increasing suffering, and the stoicism he showed in
+fulfilling his duties in the House of Lords, have left a deep
+impression on all his friends.
+
+                                                    L. M.
+
+
+
+
+The _Edisso Princeps_, of Virgil is that printed at Rome by Sweynham
+and Pannartz. It was not dated, but it is almost certain that it was
+printed before the Venice folio edition of V. de Spira, which was
+issued in 1470. The best modern critical editions of the text are
+those of Ribbeck (4 vols. 1895) and F. A. Hirtzel (_Scriptorum
+Classicorum Bibliotheca Oxoniensis_, 1900). Of the editions
+containing explanatory notes, that of Conington and Nettleship,
+revised by Haverfield, is the standard English commentary. That of
+A. Sidgwick (2 vols. Cambridge) is more elementary, but will be found
+valuable. Those of Kennedy (London, 1879) and of Papillon and Haigh
+(Oxford, 2 vols. 1890-91) may also be referred to.
+
+Virgil was first introduced to English readers by William Caxton in
+1490. But his _Eneydos_ was based, not on the _Aeneid_ itself, but
+on a French paraphrase, the _liure des eneydes_, printed at Lyons
+in 1483.
+
+The best modern prose translations are those of Mackail (London,
+1885) and Conington (London, 1870).
+
+The following is a list of the more important verse translations of
+the _Aeneid_ which have appeared. The name of the translator, and
+the date at which his translation appeared, are given:--Gawin
+Douglas, 1553 (see Introduction, p. xi); Henry, Earl of Surrey, 1557
+(Books II. and IV. only); J. Dryden, 1697; C. R. Kennedy, 1861; J.
+Conington, 1866; W. Morris, 1876; W. J. Thornhill, 1886; Sir Charles
+Bowen, 1887 (Books I.-VI. only); J. Rhoades, 1893 (Books I.-VI.
+only); Sir Theodore Martin, 1896 (Books I.-VI. only); T. H. D. May,
+1903; E. Fairfax Taylor, 1903.
+
+Students of Virgil would also do well to consult Sellar, _Poets of
+the Augustan Age_ (Oxford, 1883), and Nettleship, _Introduction to
+the Study of Vergil_.
+
+
+
+
+THE AENEID OF VIRGIL
+
+
+
+
+BOOK ONE
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+Fate sends AEneas to Latium to found Rome, but Juno's hostility long
+delays his success (1-45). Descrying him and his Trojans in sight
+of Italy, she bribes AEolus to raise a storm for their destruction
+(46-99). The tempest (100-116). The despair of AEneas (117-126). One
+Trojan ship is already lost, when Neptune learns the plot and lays
+the storm (127-189). AEneas escapes, lands in Libya, and heartens
+his men (190-261). Venus appeals to Jupiter, who comforts her with
+assurance that AEneas shall yet be great in Italy. His son shall found
+Alba and his son's sons Rome. Juno shall eventually relent, and Rome
+under Augustus shall be empress of the world (262-351). Mercury is
+sent to secure from Dido, Queen of Libya, a welcome for AEneas. AEneas
+and Achates, while reconnoitring, meet Venus in the forest disguised
+as a nymph. She tells them Dido's story. AEneas in reply bewails his
+own troubles, but is interrupted with promises of success. Let him
+but persist, all will be well (352-478). Venus changes before their
+eyes from nymph to goddess, and vanishes before AEneas can utter his
+reproaches. Hidden in a magic mist, the pair approach Carthage, which
+they find still building. They reach the citadel unobserved, and are
+encouraged on seeing pictures of scenes from the Trojan war (479-576).
+Dido appears and takes her state. To her enter, as suppliants, Trojan
+leaders, whom AEneas had imagined dead. Ilioneus, their spokesman,
+tells the story of the storm and asks help. "If only AEneas were
+here!" (577-661). Dido speaks him fair and echoes his words, "If
+AEneas were here!" The mist scatters. AEneas appears; thanks Dido,
+and greets Ilioneus (662-723). Dido welcomes AEneas to Carthage and
+prepares a festival in his honour. AEneas sends Achates to summon
+his son and bring gifts for Dido (724-774). Cupid, persuaded by Venus
+to personate Ascanius and inspire Dido with love for AEneas, comes
+with the gifts to Dido's palace, while Ascanius is carried away to
+Idalia. The night is passed in feasting. After the feast Iopas sings
+the wonders of the firmament, and Dido, bewitched by Cupid, begs
+AEneas to tell the whole story of his adventures (775-891).
+
+
+I.  Of arms I sing, and of the man, whom Fate
+    First drove from Troy to the Lavinian shore.
+    Full many an evil, through the mindful hate
+    Of cruel Juno, from the gods he bore,
+    Much tost on earth and ocean, yea, and more
+    In war enduring, ere he built a home,
+    And his loved household-deities brought o'er
+    To Latium, whence the Latin people come,
+Whence rose the Alban sires, and walls of lofty Rome.
+
+II. O Muse, assist me and inspire my song,
+    The various causes and the crimes relate,
+    For what affronted majesty, what wrong
+    To injured Godhead, what offence so great
+    Heaven's Queen resenting, with remorseless hate,
+    Could one renowned for piety compel
+    To brave such troubles, and endure the weight
+    Of toils so many and so huge. O tell
+How can in heavenly minds such fierce resentment dwell?
+
+III. There stood a city, fronting far away
+    The mouths of Tiber and Italia's shore,
+    A Tyrian settlement of olden day,
+    Rich in all wealth, and trained to war's rough lore,
+    Carthage the name, by Juno loved before
+    All places, even Samos. Here were shown
+    Her arms, and here her chariot; evermore
+    E'en then this land she cherished as her own,
+And here, should Fate permit, had planned a world-wide throne.
+
+IV. But she had heard, how men of Trojan seed
+    Those Tyrian towers should level, how again
+    From these in time a nation should proceed,
+    Wide-ruling, tyrannous in war, the bane
+    (So Fate was working) of the Libyan reign.
+    This feared she, mindful of the war beside
+    Waged for her Argives on the Trojan plain;
+    Nor even yet had from her memory died
+The causes of her wrath, the pangs of wounded pride,--
+
+V.  The choice of Paris, and her charms disdained,
+    The hateful race, the lawless honours ta'en
+    By ravished Ganymede--these wrongs remained.
+    So fired with rage, the Trojans' scanty train
+    By fierce Achilles and the Greeks unslain
+    She barred from Latium, and in evil strait
+    For many a year, on many a distant main
+    They wandered, homeless outcasts, tost by Fate;
+So huge, so hard the task to found the Roman state.
+
+VI. Scarce out of sight of Sicily, they set
+    Their sails to sea, and merrily ploughed the main,
+    With brazen beaks, when Juno, harbouring yet
+    Within her breast the ever-rankling pain,
+    Mused thus: "Must I then from the work refrain,
+    Nor keep this Trojan from the Latin throne,
+    Baffled, forsooth, because the Fates constrain?
+    Could Pallas burn the Grecian fleet, and drown
+Their crews, for one man's crime, Oileus' frenzied son?
+
+VII. "She, hurling Jove's winged lightning, stirred the deep
+    And strewed the ships. Him, from his riven breast
+    The flames outgasping, with a whirlwind's sweep
+    She caught and fixed upon a rock's sharp crest.
+    But I, who walk the Queen of Heaven confessed,
+    Jove's sister-spouse, shall I forevermore
+    With one poor tribe keep warring without rest?
+    Who then henceforth shall Juno's power adore?
+Who then her fanes frequent, her deity implore?"
+
+VIII. Such thoughts revolving in her fiery mind,
+    Straightway the Goddess to AEolia passed,
+    The storm-clouds' birthplace, big with blustering wind.
+    Here AEolus within a dungeon vast
+    The sounding tempest and the struggling blast
+    Bends to his sway and bridles them with chains.
+    They, in the rock reverberant held fast,
+    Moan at the doors. Here, throned aloft, he reigns;
+His sceptre calms their rage, their violence restrains:
+
+IX. Else earth and sea and all the firmament
+    The winds together through the void would sweep.
+    But, fearing this, the Sire omnipotent
+    Hath buried them in caverns dark and deep,
+    And o'er them piled huge mountains in a heap,
+    And set withal a monarch, there to reign,
+    By compact taught at his command to keep
+    Strict watch, and tighten or relax the rein.
+Him now Saturnia sought, and thus in lowly strain:
+
+X.  "O AEolus, for Jove, of human kind
+    And Gods the sovran Sire, hath given to thee
+    To lull the waves and lift them with the wind,
+    A hateful people, enemies to me,
+    Their ships are steering o'er the Tuscan sea,
+    Bearing their Troy and vanquished gods away
+    To Italy. Go, set the storm-winds free,
+    And sink their ships or scatter them astray,
+And strew their corpses forth, to weltering waves a prey.
+
+XI. "Twice seven nymphs have I, beautiful to see;
+    One, Deiopeia, fairest of the fair,
+    In lasting wedlock will I link to thee,
+    Thy life-long years for such deserts to share,
+    And make thee parent of an offspring fair."--
+    "Speak, Queen," he answered, "to obey is mine.
+    To thee I owe this sceptre and whate'er
+    Of realm is here; thou makest Jove benign,
+Thou giv'st to rule the storms and sit at feasts divine."
+
+XII. So spake the God and with her hest complied,
+    And turned the massive sceptre in his hand
+    And pushed the hollow mountain on its side.
+    Out rushed the winds, like soldiers in a band,
+    In wedged array, and, whirling, scour the land.
+    East, West and squally South-west, with a roar,
+    Swoop down on Ocean, and the surf and sand
+    Mix in dark eddies, and the watery floor
+Heave from its depths, and roll huge billows to the shore.
+
+XIII. Then come the creak of cables and the cries
+    Of seamen. Clouds the darkened heavens have drowned,
+    And snatched the daylight from the Trojans' eyes.
+    Black night broods on the waters; all around
+    From pole to pole the rattling peals resound
+    And frequent flashes light the lurid air.
+    All nature, big with instant ruin, frowned
+    Destruction. Then AEneas' limbs with fear
+Were loosened, and he groaned and stretched his hands in prayer:
+
+XIV. "Thrice, four times blest, who, in their fathers' face
+    Fell by the walls of Ilion far away!
+    O son of Tydeus, bravest of the race,
+    Why could not I have perished, too, that day
+    Beneath thine arm, and breathed this soul away
+    Far on the plains of Troy, where Hector brave
+    Lay, pierced by fierce AEacides, where lay
+    Giant Sarpedon, and swift Simois' wave
+Rolls heroes, helms and shields, whelmed in one watery grave?"
+
+XV. E'en as he cried, the hurricane from the North
+    Struck with a roar against the sail. Up leap
+    The waves to heaven; the shattered oars start forth;
+    Round swings the prow, and lets the waters sweep
+    The broadside. Onward comes a mountain heap
+    Of billows, gaunt, abrupt. These, horsed astride
+    A surge's crest, rock pendent o'er the deep;
+    To those the wave's huge hollow, yawning wide,
+Lays bare the ground below; dark swells the sandy tide.
+
+XVI. Three ships the South-wind catching hurls away
+    On hidden rocks, which (Latins from of yore
+    Have called them "Altars") in mid ocean lay,
+    A huge ridge level with the tide. Three more
+    Fierce Eurus from the deep sea dashed ashore
+    On quicks and shallows, pitiful to view,
+    And round them heaped the sandbanks. One, that bore
+    The brave Orontes and his Lycian crew,
+Full in AEneas' sight a toppling wave o'erthrew.
+
+XVII. Dashed from the tiller, down the pilot rolled.
+    Thrice round the billow whirled her, as she lay,
+    Then whelmed below. Strewn here and there behold
+    Arms, planks, lone swimmers in the surges grey,
+    And treasures snatched from Trojan homes away.
+    Now fail the ships wherein Achates ride
+    And Abas; old Aletes' bark gives way,
+    And brave Ilioneus'. Each loosened side
+Through many a gaping seam lets in the baleful tide.
+
+XVIII. Meanwhile great Neptune, sore amazed, perceived
+    The storm let loose, the turmoil of the sky,
+    And ocean from its lowest depths upheaved.
+    With calm brow lifted o'er the sea, his eye
+    Beholds Troy's navy scattered far and nigh,
+    And by the waves and ruining heaven oppressed
+    The Trojan crews. Nor failed he to espy
+    His sister's wiles and hatred. East and West
+He summoned to his throne, and thus his wrath expressed.
+
+XIX. "What pride of birth possessed you, Earth and air
+    Without my leave to mingle in affray,
+    And raise such hubbub in my realm? Beware--
+    Yet first 'twere best these billows to allay.
+    Far other coin hereafter ye shall pay
+    For crimes like these. Presumptuous winds, begone,
+    And take your king this message, that the sway
+    Of Ocean and the sceptre and the throne
+Fate gave to me, not him; the trident is my own.
+
+XX. "He holds huge rocks; these, Eurus, are for thee,
+    There let him glory in his hall and reign,
+    But keep his winds close prisoners." Thus he,
+    And, ere his speech was ended, smoothed the main,
+    And chased the clouds and brought the sun again.
+    Triton, Cymothoe from the rock's sharp brow
+    Push off the vessels. Neptune plies amain
+    His trident-lever, lays the sandbanks low,
+On light wheels shaves the deep, and calms the billowy flow.
+
+XXI. As when in mighty multitudes bursts out
+    Sedition, and the wrathful rabble rave;
+    Rage finds them arms; stones, firebrands fly about,
+    Then if some statesman reverend and grave,
+    Stand forth conspicuous, and the tumult brave
+    All, hushed, attend; his guiding words restrain
+    Their angry wills; so sank the furious wave,
+    When through the clear sky looking o'er the main,
+The sea-king lashed his steeds and slacked the favouring rein.
+
+XXII. Tired out, the Trojans seek the nearest land
+    And turn to Libya.--In a far retreat
+    There lies a haven; towards the deep doth stand
+    An island, on whose jutting headlands beat
+    The broken billows, shivered into sleet.
+    Two towering crags, twin giants, guard the cove,
+    And threat the skies. The waters at their feet
+    Sleep hushed, and, like a curtain, frowns above,
+Mixt with the glancing green, the darkness of the grove.
+
+XXIII. Beneath a precipice, that fronts the wave,
+    With limpid springs inside, and many a seat
+    Of living marble, lies a sheltered cave,
+    Home of the Sea-Nymphs. In this haven sweet
+    Cable nor biting anchor moors the fleet.
+    Here with seven ships, the remnant of his band,
+    AEneas enters. Glad at length to greet
+    The welcome earth, the Trojans leap to land,
+And lay their weary limbs still dripping on the sand.
+
+XXIV. First from a flint a spark Achates drew,
+    And lit the leaves and dry wood heaped with care
+    And set the fuel flaming, as he blew.
+    Then, tired of toiling, from the ships they bear
+    The sea-spoiled corn, and Ceres' tools prepare,
+    And 'twixt the millstones grind the rescued grain
+    And roast the pounded morsels for their fare:
+    While up the crag AEneas climbs, to gain
+Full prospect far and wide, and scan the distant main.
+
+XXV. If aught of Phrygian biremes he discern
+    Antheus or Capys, tost upon the seas,
+    Or arms of brave Caicus high astern.
+    No sail, but wandering on the shore he sees
+    Three stags, and, grazing up the vale at ease,
+    The whole herd troops behind them in a row.
+    He stops, and from Achates hastes to seize
+    His chance-brought arms, the arrows and the bow,
+The branching antlers smites, and lays the leader low.
+
+XXVI. Next fall the herd; and through the leafy glade
+    In mingled rout he drives the scattered train,
+    Plying his shafts, nor stays his conquering raid
+    Till seven huge bodies on the ground lie slain,
+    The number of his vessels; then again
+    He seeks the crews, and gives a deer to each,
+    Then opes the casks, which good Acestes, fain
+    At parting, filled on the Trinacrian beach,
+And shares the wine, and soothes their drooping hearts with speech.
+
+XXVII. "Comrades! of ills not ignorant; far more
+    Than these ye suffered, and to these as well
+    Will Jove give ending, as he gave before.
+    Ye know mad Scylla, and her monsters' yell,
+    And the dark caverns where the Cyclops dwell.
+    Fear not; take heart; hereafter, it may be
+    These too will yield a pleasant tale to tell.
+    Through shifting hazards, by the Fates' decree,
+To Latin shores we steer, our promised land to see.
+
+XXVIII. "There quiet settlements the Fates display,
+    There Troy her ruined fortunes shall repair.
+    Bear up; reserve you for a happier day."
+    He spake, and heart-sick with a load of care,
+    Suppressed his grief, and feigned a cheerful air.
+    All straightway gird them to the feast. These flay
+    The ribs and thighs, and lay the entrails bare.
+    Those slice the flesh, and split the quivering prey,
+And tend the fires and set the cauldrons in array.
+
+XXIX. So wine and venison, to their hearts' desire,
+    Refreshed their strength. And when the feast was sped,
+    Their missing friends in converse they require,
+    Doubtful to deem them, betwixt hope and dread,
+    Alive or out of hearing with the dead.
+    All mourned, but good AEneas mourned the most,
+    And bitter tears for Amycus he shed,
+    Gyas, Cloanthus, bravest of his host,
+Lycus, Orontes bold, all counted with the lost.
+
+XXX. Now came an end of mourning and of woe,
+    When Jove, surveying from his prospect high
+    Shore, sail-winged sea, and peopled earth below,
+    Stood, musing, on the summit of the sky,
+    And on the Libyan kingdom fixed his eye,
+    To him, such cares revolving in his breast,
+    Her shining eyes suffused with tears, came nigh
+    Fair Venus, for her darling son distrest,
+And thus in sorrowing tones the Sire of heaven addressed;
+
+XXXI. "O Thou, whose nod and awful bolts attest
+    O'er Gods and men thine everlasting reign,
+    Wherein hath my AEneas so transgressed,
+    Wherein his Trojans, thus to mourn their slain,
+    Barred from the world, lest Italy they gain?
+    Surely from them the rolling years should see
+    New sons of ancient Teucer rise again,
+    The Romans, rulers of the land and sea.
+So swar'st thou; Father, say, why changed is thy decree?
+
+XXXII. "That word consoled me, weighing fate with fate,
+    For Troy's sad fall. Now Fortune, as before,
+    Pursues the woe-worn victims of her hate.
+    O when, great Monarch, shall their toil be o'er?
+    Safe could Antenor pass th' Illyrian shore
+    Through Danaan hosts, and realms Liburnian gain,
+    And climb Timavus and her springs explore,
+    Where through nine mouths, with roaring surge, the main
+Bursts from the sounding rocks and deluges the plain.
+
+XXXIII. "Yet there he built Patavium, yea, and named
+    The nation, and the Trojan arms laid down,
+    And now rests happy in the town he framed.
+    But we, thy progeny, to whom alone
+    Thy nod hath promised a celestial throne,
+    Our vessels lost, from Italy are barred,
+    O shame! and ruined for the wrath of one.
+    Thus, thus dost thou thy plighted word regard,
+Our sceptred realms restore, our piety reward?"
+
+XXXIV. Then Jove, soft-smiling with the look that clears
+    The storms, and gently kissing her, replies;
+    "Firm are thy fates, sweet daughter; spare thy fears.
+    Thou yet shalt see Lavinium's walls arise,
+    And bear thy brave AEneas to the skies.
+    My purpose shifts not. Now, to ease thy woes,
+    Since sorrow for his sake hath dimmed thine eyes,
+    More will I tell, and hidden fates disclose.
+He in Italia long shall battle with his foes,
+
+XXXV. "And crush fierce tribes, and milder ways ordain,
+    And cities build and wield the Latin sway,
+    Till the third summer shall have seen him reign,
+    And three long winter-seasons passed away
+    Since fierce Rutulia did his arms obey.
+    Then, too, the boy Ascanius, named of late
+    Iulus--Ilus was he in the day
+    When firm by royalty stood Ilium's state--
+Shall rule till thirty years complete the destined date.
+
+XXXVI. "He from Lavinium shall remove his seat,
+    And gird Long Alba for defence; and there
+    'Neath Hector's kin three hundred years complete
+    The kingdom shall endure, till Ilia fair,
+    Queen-priestess, twins by Mars' embrace shall bear.
+    Then Romulus the nation's charge shall claim,
+    Wolf-nursed and proud her tawny hide to wear,
+    And build a city of Mavortian fame,
+And make the Roman race remembered by his name.
+
+XXXVII. "To these no period nor appointed date,
+    Nor bounds to their dominion I assign;
+    An endless empire shall the race await.
+    Nay, Juno, too, who now, in mood malign,
+    Earth, sea and sky is harrying, shall incline
+    To better counsels, and unite with me
+    To cherish and uphold the imperial line,
+    The Romans, rulers of the land and sea,
+Lords of the flowing gown. So standeth my decree.
+
+XXXVIII. "In rolling ages there shall come the day
+    When heirs of old Assaracus shall tame
+    Phthia and proud Mycene to obey,
+    And terms of peace to conquered Greeks proclaim.
+    Caesar, a Trojan,--Julius his name,
+    Drawn from the great Iulus--shall arise,
+    And compass earth with conquest, heaven with fame,
+    Him, crowned with vows and many an Eastern prize,
+Thou, freed at length from care, shalt welcome to the skies.
+
+XXXIX. "Then wars shall cease and savage times grow mild,
+    And Remus and Quirinus, brethren twain,
+    With hoary Faith and Vesta undefiled,
+    Shall give the law. With iron bolt and chain
+    Firm-closed the gates of Janus shall remain.
+    Within, the Fiend of Discord, high reclined
+    On horrid arms, unheeded in the fane,
+    Bound with a hundred brazen knots behind,
+And grim with gory jaws, his grisly teeth shall grind."
+
+XL. So saying, the son of Maia down he sent,
+    To open Carthage and the Libyan state,
+    Lest Dido, weetless of the Fates' intent,
+    Should drive the Trojan wanderers from her gate.
+    With feathered oars he cleaves the skies, and straight
+    On Libya's shores alighting, speeds his hest.
+    The Tyrians, yielding to the god, abate
+    Their fierceness. Dido, more than all the rest,
+Warms to her Phrygian friends, and wears a kindly breast.
+
+XLI. But good AEneas, pondering through the night
+    Distracting thoughts and many an anxious care,
+    Resolved, when daybreak brought the gladsome light,
+    To search the coast, and back sure tidings bear,
+    What land was this, what habitants were there,
+    If man or beast, for, far as the eye could rove,
+    A wilderness the region seemed, and bare.
+    His ships he hides within a sheltering cove,
+Screened by the caverned rock, and shadowed by the grove,
+
+XLII. Then wielding in his hand two broad-tipt spears,
+    Alone with brave Achates forth he strayed,
+    When lo, before him in the wood appears
+    His mother, in a virgin's arms arrayed,
+    In form and habit of a Spartan maid,
+    Or like Harpalyce, the pride of Thrace,
+    Who tires swift steeds, and scours the woodland glade,
+    And outstrips rapid Hebrus in the race.
+So fair the goddess seemed, apparelled for the chase.
+
+XLIII. Bare were her knees, and from her shoulders hung
+    The wonted bow, kept handy for the prey
+    Her flowing raiment in a knot she strung,
+    And loosed her tresses with the winds to play.
+    "Ho, Sirs!" she hails them, "saw ye here astray
+    Ought of my sisters, girt in huntress wise
+    With quiver and a spotted lynx-skin gay,
+    Or following on the foaming boar with cries?"
+Thus Venus spake, and thus fair Venus' son replies;
+
+XLIV. "Nought of thy sisters have I heard or seen.
+    What name, O maiden, shall I give to thee,
+    For mortal never had thy voice or mien?
+    O Goddess surely, whether Nymph I see,
+    Or Phoebus' sister; whosoe'er thou be,
+    Be kind, for strangers and in evil case
+    We roam, tost hither by the stormy sea.
+    Say, who the people, what the clime and place,
+And many a victim's blood thy hallowed shrine shall grace."
+
+XLV. "Nay, nay, to no such honour I aspire."
+    Said Venus, "But a simple maid am I,
+    And 'tis the manner of the maids of Tyre
+    To wear, like me, the quiver, and to tie
+    The purple buskin round the ankles high.
+    The realm thou see'st is Punic; Tyrians are
+    The folk, the town Agenor's. Round them lie
+    The Libyan plains, a people rough in war.
+Queen Dido rules the land, who came from Tyre afar,
+
+XLVI. "Flying her brother. Dark the tale of crime,
+    And long, but briefly be the sum supplied.
+    Sychaeus was her lord, in happier time
+    The richest of Phoenicians far and wide
+    In land, and worshipped by his hapless bride.
+    Her, in the bloom of maidenhood, her sire
+    Had given him, and with virgin rites allied.
+    But soon her brother filled the throne of Tyre,
+Pygmalion, swoln with sin; 'twixt whom a feud took fire.
+
+XLVII. "He, reckless of a sister's love, and blind
+    With lust of gold, Sychaeus unaware
+    Slew by the altar, and with impious mind
+    Long hid the deed, and flattering hopes and fair
+    Devised, to cheat the lover of her care.
+    But, lifting features marvellously pale,
+    The ghost unburied in her dreams laid bare
+    His breast, and showed the altar and the bale
+Wrought by the ruthless steel, and solved the crime's dark tale.
+
+XLVIII. "Then bade her fly the country, and revealed,
+    To aid her flight, an old and unknown weight
+    Of gold and silver, in the ground concealed.
+    Thus roused, her friends she gathers. All await
+    Her summons, who the tyrant fear or hate.
+    Some ships at hand, chance-anchored in the bay,
+    They seize and load them with the costly freight,
+    And far off o'er the deep is borne away
+Pygmalion's hoarded pelf. A woman leads the way.
+
+XLIX. "Hither, where now the walls and fortress high,
+    Of Carthage, and her rising homes are found,
+    They came, and there full cheaply did they buy,
+    Such space--called Byrsa from the deed--of ground
+    As one bull's-hide could compass and surround.
+    But who are ye, pray answer? on what quest
+    Come ye? and whence and whither are ye bound?"
+    Her then AEneas, from his inmost breast
+Heaving a deep-drawn sigh, with labouring speech addressed:
+
+L.  "O Goddess, should I from the first unfold,
+    Or could'st thou hear, the annals of our woe,
+    Eve's star were shining, ere the tale were told.
+    From ancient Troy--if thou the name dost know--
+    A chance-met storm hath driven us to and fro,
+    And tost us on the Libyan shores. My name
+    Is good AEneas; from the flames and foe
+    I bear Troy's rescued deities. My fame
+Outsoars the stars of heaven; a Jove-born race, we claim
+
+LI. "A home in fair Italia far away.
+    With twice ten ships I climbed the Phrygian main,
+    My goddess-mother pointing out the way,
+    As Fate commanded. Now scarce seven remain,
+    Wave-worn and shattered by the tempest's strain.
+    Myself, a stranger, friendless and unknown,
+    From Europe driven and Asia, roam in vain
+    The wilds of Libya"--Then his plaintive tone
+No more could Venus bear, but interrupts her son;
+
+LII. "Stranger," she answered, "whosoe'er thou be;
+    Not unbeloved of heavenly powers, I ween,
+    Thou breath'st the vital air, whom Fate's decree
+    Permits a Tyrian city to have seen.
+    But hence, and seek the palace of the queen.
+    Glad news I bear thee, of thy comrades brought,
+    The North-wind shifted and the skies serene;
+    Thy ships have gained the harbour which they sought,
+Else vain my parents' lore the augury they taught.
+
+LIII. "See yon twelve swans, in jubilant array,
+    Whom late Jove's eagle scattered through the sky;
+    Now these alight, now those the pitch survey.
+    As they, returning, sport with joyous cry,
+    And flap their wings and circle in the sky,
+    E'en so thy vessels and each late-lost crew
+    Safe now and scatheless in the harbour lie,
+    Or, crowding canvas, hold the port in view.
+But hence, where leads the path, thy forward steps pursue."
+
+LIV. So saying, she turned, and all refulgent showed
+    Her roseate neck, and heavenly fragrance sweet
+    Was breathed from her ambrosial hair. Down flowed
+    Her loosened raiment, streaming to her feet,
+    And by her walk the Goddess shone complete.
+    "Ah, mother mine!" he chides her, as she flies,
+    "Art thou, then, also cruel? Wherefore cheat
+    Thy son so oft with images and lies?
+Why may I not clasp hands, and talk without disguise?"
+
+LV. Thus he, reproaching. Towards the town they fare
+    In haste. But Venus round them on the way
+    Wrapt a thick mist, a mantle of dark air,
+    That none should see them, none should touch nor stay,
+    Nor, urging idle questions, breed delay.
+    Then back, rejoicing, through the liquid air
+    To Paphos and her home she flies away,
+    Where, steaming with Sabaean incense rare,
+An hundred altars breathe with garlands fresh and fair.
+
+LVI. They by the path their forward steps pursued,
+    And climbed a hill, whose fronting summit frowned
+    Steep o'er the town. Amazed, AEneas viewed
+    Tall structures rise, where whilom huts were found,
+    The streets, the gates, the bustle and the sound.
+    Hotly the Tyrians are at work. These draw
+    The bastions' lines, roll stones and trench the ground;
+    Or build the citadel; those clothe with awe
+The Senate; there they choose the judges for the law.
+
+LVII. These delve the port; the broad foundations there
+    They lay for theatres of ample space,
+    And columns, hewn from marble rocks, prepare,
+    Tall ornaments, the future stage to grace.
+    As bees in early summer swarm apace
+    Through flowery fields, when forth from dale and dell
+    They lead the full-grown offspring of the race,
+    Or with the liquid honey store each cell,
+And make the teeming hive with nectarous sweets to swell.
+
+LVIII. These ease the comers of their loads, those drive
+    The drones afar. The busy work each plies,
+    And sweet with thyme and honey smells the hive.
+    "O happy ye, whose walls already rise!"
+    Exclaimed AEneas, and with envious eyes
+    Looked up where pinnacles and roof-tops showed
+    The new-born city; then in wondrous wise,
+    Clothed in the covering of the friendly cloud,
+Passed through the midst unseen, and mingled with the crowd.
+
+LIX. A grove stood in the city, rich in shade,
+    Where storm-tost Tyrians, past the perilous brine,
+    Dug from the ground, by royal Juno's aid,
+    A war-steed's head, to far-off days a sign
+    That wealth and prowess should adorn the line.
+    Here, by the goddess and her gifts renowned,
+    Sidonian Dido built a stately shrine.
+    All brazen rose the threshold; brass was round
+The door-posts; brazen doors on grating hinges sound.
+
+LX. Here a new sight AEneas' hopes upraised,
+    And fear was softened, and his heart was mann'd.
+    For while, the queen awaiting, round he gazed,
+    And marvelled at the happy town, and scanned
+    The rival labours of each craftsman's hand,
+    Behold, Troy's battles on the walls appear,
+    The war, since noised through many a distant land,
+    There Priam and th' Atridae twain, and here
+Achilles, fierce to both, still ruthless and severe.
+
+LXI. Pensive he stood, and with a rising tear,
+    "What lands, Achates, on the earth, but know
+    Our labours? See our Priam! Even here
+    Worth wins her due, and there are tears to flow,
+    And human hearts to feel for human woe.
+    Fear not," he cries, "Troy's glory yet shall gain
+    Some safety." Thus upon the empty show
+    He feeds his soul, while ever and again
+Deeply he sighs, and tears run down his cheeks like rain.
+
+LXII. He sees, how, fighting round the Trojan wall,
+    Here fled the Greeks, the Trojan youth pursue,
+    Here fled the Phrygians, and, with helmet tall,
+    Achilles in his chariot stormed and slew.
+    Not far, with tears, the snowy tents he knew
+    Of Rhesus, where Tydides, bathed in blood,
+    Broke in at midnight with his murderous crew,
+    And drove the hot steeds campward, ere the food
+Of Trojan plains they browsed, or drank the Xanthian flood.
+
+LXIII. There, reft of arms, poor Troilus, rash to dare
+    Achilles, by his horses dragged amain,
+    Hangs from his empty chariot. Neck and hair
+    Trail on the ground; his hand still grasps the rein;
+    The spear inverted scores the dusty plain.
+    Meanwhile, with beaten breasts and streaming hair,
+    The Trojan dames, a sad and suppliant train,
+    The veil to partial Pallas' temple bear.
+Stern, with averted eyes the Goddess spurns their prayer.
+
+LXIV. Thrice had Achilles round the Trojan wall
+    Dragged Hector; there the slayer sells the slain.
+    Sighing he sees him, chariot, arms and all,
+    And Priam, spreading helpless hands in vain.
+    Himself he knows among the Greeks again,
+    Black Memnon's arms, and all his Eastern clan,
+    Penthesilea's Amazonian train
+    With moony shields. Bare-breasted, in the van,
+Girt with a golden zone, the maiden fights with man.
+
+LXV. Thus while AEneas, with set gaze and long,
+    Hangs, mute with wonder, on the wildering scene,
+    Lo! to the temple, with a numerous throng
+    Of youthful followers, moves the beauteous Queen.
+    Such as Diana, with her Oreads seen
+    On swift Eurotas' banks or Cynthus' crest,
+    Leading the dances. She, in form and mien,
+    Armed with her quiver, towers above the rest,
+And tranquil pleasure thrills Latona's silent breast.
+
+LXVI. E'en such was Dido; so with joyous mien,
+    Urging the business of her rising state,
+    Among the concourse passed the Tyrian queen;
+    Then, girt with guards, within the temple's gate
+    Beneath the centre of the dome she sate.
+    There, ministering justice, she presides,
+    And deals the law, and from her throne of state,
+    As choice determines or as chance decides,
+To each, in equal share, his separate task divides.
+
+LXVII. Sudden, behold a concourse. Looking down,
+    His late-lost friends AEneas sees again,
+    Sergestus, brave Cloanthus of renown,
+    Antheus and others of the Trojan train,
+    Whom the black squall had scattered o'er the main,
+    And driven afar upon an alien strand.
+    At once, 'twixt joy and terror rent in twain,
+    Amazed, AEneas and Achates stand,
+And long to greet old friends and clasp a comrade's hand.
+
+LXVIII. Yet wildering wonder at so strange a scene
+    Still holds them mute, while anxious thoughts divide
+    Their doubtful minds, and in the cloud unseen,
+    Wrapt in its hollow covering, they abide
+    And note what fortune did their friends betide,
+    And whence they come, and why for grace they sue,
+    And on what shore they left the fleet to bide,
+    For chosen captains came from every crew,
+And towards the sacred fane with clamorous cries they drew.
+
+LXIX. Then, audience granted, as the fane they filled,
+    Thus calmly spake the eldest of the train,
+    Ilioneus: "O queen, whom Jove hath willed
+    To found this new-born city, here to reign,
+    And stubborn tribes with justice to refrain,
+    We, Troy's poor fugitives, implore thy grace,
+    Storm-tost and wandering over every main,--
+    Forbid the flames our vessels to deface,
+Mark our afflicted plight, and spare a pious race.
+
+LXX. "We come not hither with the sword to rend
+    Your Libyan homes, and shoreward drive the prey.
+    Nay, no such violence our thoughts intend,
+    Such pride suits not the vanquished. Far away
+    There lies a place--Greeks style the land to-day
+    Hesperia--fruitful and of ancient fame
+    And strong in arms. OEnotrian folk, they say,
+    First tilled the soil. Italian is the name
+Borne by the later race, with Italus who came.
+
+LXXI. "Thither we sailed, when, rising with the wave,
+    Orion dashed us on the shoals, the prey
+    Of wanton winds, and mastering billows drave
+    Our vessels on the pathless rocks astray.
+    We few have floated to your shore. O say,
+    What manner of mankind is here? What land
+    Is this, to treat us in this barbarous way?
+    They grudge the very shelter of the sand,
+And call to arms and bar our footsteps from the strand!
+
+LXXII. "If human kind and mortal arms ye scorn,
+    Think of the Gods, who judge the wrong and right.
+    A king was ours, AEneas; ne'er was born
+    A man more just, more valiant in the fight,
+    More famed for piety and deeds of might.
+    If yet he lives and looks upon the sun,
+    Nor cruel death hath snatched him from the light,
+    No fear have we, nor need hast thou to shun
+A Trojan guest, or rue kind offices begun.
+
+LXXIII. "Towns yet for us in Sicily remain,
+    And arms, and, sprung from Trojan sires of yore,
+    Our kinsman there, Acestes, holds his reign.
+    Grant us to draw our scattered fleet ashore,
+    And fit new planks and branches for the oar.
+    So, if with king and comrades brought again,
+    The Fates allow us to reach Italia's shore,
+    Italia gladly and the Latian plain
+Seek we; but else, if thoughts of safety be in vain,
+
+LXXIV. "If thee, dear Sire, the Libyan deep doth hide,
+    Nor hopes of young Iulus more can cheer,
+    Back let our barks to the Sicanian tide
+    And proffered homes and king Acestes steer."
+    He spake; the Dardans answered with a cheer.
+    Then Dido thus, with downcast look sedate;
+    "Take courage, Trojans, and dismiss your fear.
+    My kingdom's newness and the stress of Fate
+Force me to guard far off the frontiers of my state.
+
+LXXV. "Who knows not Troy, th' AEneian house of fame,
+    The deeds and doers, and the war's renown
+    That fired the world? Not hearts so dull and tame
+    Have Punic folk; not so is Phoebus known
+    To turn his back upon our Tyrian town.
+    Whether ye sail to great Hesperia's shore
+    And Saturn's fields, or seek the realms that own
+    Acestes' sway, where Eryx reigned of yore,
+Safe will I send you hence, and speed you with my store.
+
+LXXVI. "Else, would ye settle in this realm, the town
+    I build is yours; draw up your ships to land.
+    Trojan and Tyrian will I treat as one.
+    Would that your king AEneas here could stand,
+    Driven by the gale that drove you to this strand!
+    Natheless, to scour the country, will I send
+    Some trusty messengers, with strict command
+    To search through Libya to the furthest end,
+Lest, cast ashore, through town or lonely wood he wend."
+
+LXXVII. Roused by these words, long since the sire of Troy
+    Yearned, like his friend, their comrades to surprise
+    And burst the cloud. Then first with eager joy
+    "O Goddess-born," the bold Achates cries,
+    "How now--what purpose doth thy mind devise?
+    Lo! all are safe--ships, comrades brought again;
+    One only fails us, who before our eyes
+    Sank in the midst of the engulfing main.
+All else confirms the tale thy mother told thee plain."
+
+LXXVIII. Scarce had he said, when straight the ambient cloud
+    Broke open, melting into day's clear light,
+    And bathed in sunshine stood the chief, endowed
+    With shape and features most divinely bright.
+    For graceful tresses and the purple light
+    Of youth did Venus in her child unfold,
+    And sprightly lustre breathed upon his sight,
+    Beauteous as ivory, or when artists mould
+Silver or Parian stone, enchased in yellow gold.
+
+LXXIX. Then to the queen, all wondering, he exclaimed,
+    "Behold me, Troy's AEneas; I am here,
+    The man ye seek, from Libyan waves reclaimed.
+    Thou, who alone Troy's sorrows deign'st to hear,
+    And us, the gleanings of the Danaan spear,
+    Poor world-wide wanderers and in desperate case,
+    Hast ta'en to share thy city and thy cheer,
+    Meet thanks nor we, nor what of Dardan race
+Yet roams the earth, can give to recompense thy grace.
+
+LXXX. "The gods, if gods the good and just regard,
+    And thy own conscience, that approves the right,
+    Grant thee due guerdon and a fit reward.
+    What happy ages did thy birth delight?
+    What godlike parents bore a child so bright?
+    While running rivers hasten to the main,
+    While yon pure ether feeds the stars with light,
+    While shadows round the hill-slopes wax and wane,
+Thy fame, where'er I go, thy praises shall remain."
+
+LXXXI. So saying AEneas with his left hand pressed
+    Serestus, and Ilioneus with his right,
+    Brave Gyas, brave Cloanthus and the rest.
+    Then Dido, struck with wonder at the sight
+    Of one so great and in so strange a plight,
+    "O Goddess-born! what fate through dangers sore,
+    What force to savage coasts compels thy flight?
+    Art thou, then, that AEneas, whom of yore
+Venus on Simois' banks to old Anchises bore?
+
+LXXXII. "Ay, well I mind me how in days of yore
+    To Sidon exiled Teucer crossed the main,
+    To seek new kingdoms and the aid implore
+    Of Belus. He, my father Belus, then
+    Ruled Cyprus, victor of the wasted plain,
+    Since then thy name and Ilion's fate are known,
+    And all the princes of Pelasgia's reign.
+    Himself, a foe, oft lauded Troy's renown,
+And claimed the Teucrian sires as kinsmen of his own.
+
+LXXXIII. "Welcome, then, heroes! Me hath Fortune willed
+    Long tost, like you, through sufferings, here to rest
+    And find at length a refuge. Not unskilled
+    In woe, I learn to succour the distrest."
+    So to the palace she escorts her guest,
+    And calls for festal honours in the shrine.
+    Then shoreward sends beeves twenty to the rest,
+    A hundred boars, of broad and bristly chine,
+A hundred lambs and ewes and gladdening gifts of wine.
+
+LXXXIV. Meanwhile with regal splendour they arrayed
+    The palace-hall, where feast and banquet high
+    All in the centre of the space is laid,
+    And forth they bring the broidered tapestry,
+    With purple dyed and wrought full cunningly.
+    The tables groan with silver; there are told
+    The deeds of prowess for the gazer's eye,
+    A long, long series, of their sires of old,
+Traced from the nation's birth, and graven in the gold.
+
+LXXXV. But good AEneas--for a father's care
+    No rest allows him--to the ships sends down
+    Achates, to Ascanius charged to bear
+    The welcome news, and bring him to the town.
+    The father's fondness centres on the son.
+    Rich presents, too, he sends for, saved of old
+    From Troy, a veil, whose saffron edges shone
+    Fringed with acanthus, glorious to behold,
+A broidered mantle, stiff with figures wrought in gold.
+
+LXXXVI. Fair Helen's ornaments, from Argos brought,
+    The gift of Leda, when the Trojan shore
+    And lawless nuptials o'er the waves she sought.
+    Therewith the royal sceptre, which of yore
+    Ilione, Priam's eldest daughter, bore;
+    Her shining necklace, strung with costly beads,
+    And diadem, rimmed with gold and studded o'er
+    With sparkling gems. Thus charged, Achates heeds,
+And towards the ships forthwith in eager haste proceeds.
+
+LXXXVII. But crafty Cytherea planned meanwhile
+    New arts, new schemes,--that Cupid should conspire,
+    In likeness of Ascanius, to beguile
+    The queen with gifts, and kindle fierce desire,
+    And turn the marrow of her bones to fire.
+    Fierce Juno's hatred rankles in her breast;
+    The two-faced house, the double tongues of Tyre
+    She fears, and with the night returns unrest;
+So now to winged Love this mandate she addressed:
+
+LXXXVIII. "O son, sole source of all my strength and power,
+    Who durst high Jove's Typhoean bolts disdain,
+    To thee I fly, thy deity implore.
+    Thou know'st, who oft hast sorrowed with my pain,
+    How, tost by Juno's rancour, o'er the main
+    Thy brother wanders. Him with speeches fair
+    And sweet allurements doth the queen detain;
+    But Juno's hospitality I fear;
+Scarce at an hour like this will she her hand forbear.
+
+LXXXIX. "Soft snares I purpose round the queen to weave,
+    And wrap her soul in flames, that power malign
+    Shall never change her, but her heart shall cleave
+    Fast to AEneas with a love like mine.
+    Now learn, how best to compass my design.
+    To Tyrian Carthage hastes the princely boy,
+    Prompt at the summons of his sire divine,
+    My prime solicitude, my chiefest joy,
+Fraught with brave store of gifts, saved from the flames of Troy.
+
+XC. "Him on Idalia, lulled into a dream,
+    Will I secrete, or on the sacred height
+    Of lone Cythera, lest he learn the scheme,
+    Or by his sudden presence mar the sleight.
+    Take thou his likeness, only for a night,
+    And wear the boyish features that are thine;
+    And when the queen, in rapture of delight,
+    Amid the royal banquet and the wine,
+Shall lock thee in her arms, and press her lips to thine,
+
+XCI. "Then steal into her bosom, and inspire
+    Through all her veins with unsuspected sleight
+    The poisoned sting of passion and desire."
+    Young Love obeys, and doffs his plumage light,
+    And, like Iulus, trips forth with delight.
+    She o'er Ascanius rains a soft repose,
+    And gently bears him to Idalia's height,
+    Where breathing marjoram around him throws
+Sweet shade, and odorous flowers his slumbering limbs compose.
+
+XCII. Forth Cupid, at his mother's word, repairs,
+    And merrily, for brave Achates led,
+    The royal presents to the Tyrians bears.
+    There, under gorgeous curtains, at the head
+    Sate Dido, throned upon a golden bed.
+    There, flocking in, the Trojans and their King
+    Recline on purple coverlets outspread.
+    Bread, heaped in baskets, the attendants bring,
+Towels with smooth-shorn nap, and water from the spring.
+
+XCIII. Within are fifty maidens, charged with care
+    To dress the food, and nurse the flames divine.
+    A hundred more, and youths like-aged, prepare
+    To load the tables and arrange the wine.
+    There, entering too, on broidered seats recline
+    The Tyrians, crowding through the festive court.
+    They praise the boy, his glowing looks divine,
+    The words he feigned, the royal gifts he brought,
+The robe, the saffron veil with bright acanthus wrought.
+
+XCIV. Doomed to devouring Love, the hapless queen
+    Burns as she gazes, with insatiate fire,
+    Charmed by his presents and his youthful mien:
+    He, fondly clinging to his fancied sire,
+    Gave all the love that parents' hearts desire,
+    Then seeks the queen. She, fixing on the boy
+    Her eyes, her soul, impatient to admire,
+    Now, fondling, folds him to her lap with joy;
+Weetless, alas! what god is plotting to destroy.
+
+XCV. True to his Paphian mother, trace by trace,
+    Slowly the Love-god with prevenient art,
+    Begins the lost Sychaeus to efface,
+    And living passion to a breast impart
+    Long dead to feeling, and a vacant heart.
+    Now, hushed the banquet and the tables all
+    Removed, huge wine-bowls for each guest apart
+    They wreathe with flowers. The noise of festival
+Rings through the spacious courts, and rolls along the hall.
+
+XCVI. There, blazing from the gilded roof, are seen
+    Bright lamps, and torches turn the night to day.
+    Now for the ponderous goblet called the Queen,
+    Of jewelled gold, which Belus used and they
+    Of Belus' line, and poured the wine straightway,
+    And prayed, while silence filled the crowded hall:
+    "Great Jove, the host's lawgiver, bless this day
+    To these my Tyrians and the Trojans all.
+Long may our children's sons this solemn feast recall.
+
+XCVII. "Come, jolly Bacchus, giver of delight;
+    Kind Juno, come; and ye with fair accord
+    And friendly spirit hold the feast aright."
+    So spake the Queen, and on the festal board
+    The prime libation to the gods outpoured,
+    Then lightly to her lips the goblet pressed,
+    And gave to Bitias. Challenged by the word,
+    He dived into the brimming gold with zest,
+And quaffed the foaming bowl, and after him, the rest.
+
+XCVIII. His golden lyre long-haired Iopas tunes,
+    And sings what Atlas taught in loftiest strain;
+    The suns' eclipses and the changing moons,
+    Whence man and beast, whence lightning and the rain,
+    Arcturus, watery Hyads and the Wain;
+    What causes make the winter nights so long,
+    Why sinks the sun so quickly in the main;
+    All this he sings, and ravished at the song,
+Tyrians and Trojan guests the loud applause prolong.
+
+XCIX. With various talk the night poor Dido wore,
+    And drank deep love, and nursed her inward flame,
+    Of Priam much she asks, of Hector more,
+    Now in what arms Aurora's offspring came,
+    Of Diomede's horses and Achilles' fame.
+    "Tell me," she says, "thy wanderings; stranger, come,
+    Thy friends' mishaps and Danaan wiles proclaim;
+    For seven long summers now have seen thee roam
+O'er every land and sea, far from thy native home."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK TWO
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+AEneas' story.--The Greeks, baffled in battle, built a wooden horse,
+in which their leaders took ambush. Their fleet sailed to Tenedos.
+The Trojans, but for Capys and Laocoon, had dragged the horse
+forthwith as a trophy into Troy (1-72). Sinon, a Greek, brought
+before Priam, feigns righteous indignation against Greece. The
+Trojans sympathise and believe his story of wrongs done him by
+Ulysses (73-126). "When Greek plans of flight had often," says Sinon,
+"been foiled by storms, oracles foretold that only a human sacrifice
+could purchase their escape." Chosen for victim, Sinon had fled. He
+solemnly declares the horse to be an offering to Pallas. "Destroy
+it, and you are lost. Preserve it in your citadel, your revenge is
+assured" (127-222). Treachery triumphs. Laocoon's cruel fate is
+ascribed to his sacrilegious attack upon the horse, which is brought
+with rejoicing into Troy, despite a last warning, from Cassandra
+(223-288). While Troy sleeps, the fleet returns, and Sinon releases
+the Greeks from the horse (289-315). Hector's wraith warns AEneas
+in a dream to flee with the sacred vessels and images (316-351), and
+Panthus brings news of Sinon's treachery. The city is in flames.
+AEneas heads a forlorn hope of rescue (352-441). He and his followers
+exchange armour with certain Greeks slain in the darkness. The ruse
+succeeds until they are taken for enemies by their friends. The
+Greeks rally. The Trojans scatter. At Priam's palace a last stand
+is made, but Pyrrhus forces the great gates, and the defenders are
+massacred (442-603). Priam's fate.--The sight of his headless corpse
+draws AEneas' thoughts to his own father's danger. Hastening
+homewards he espies Helen, and is pausing to take vengeance and her
+life, when (604-711) Venus intervening opens his eyes to see the gods
+aiding the Greeks (712-756). AEneas regains his home. Anchises
+obstinately refuses to flee, until a halo is seen about the head of
+Ascanius (757-828), whereupon he accepts the omen and yields. The
+escape.--In a sudden panic Creusa is lost (829-900). AEneas, at peril
+of his life, is seeking her throughout the city, when her wraith
+appears and bids him away. "She is dead in Troytown: in Italy empire
+awaits him." She vanishes: day dawns: and AEneas, with Anchises and
+the surviving Trojans, flees to the hills (901-972).
+
+
+I.  All hushed intent, when from his lofty seat
+    Troy's sire began, "O queen, a tale too true,
+    Too sad for words, thou biddest me repeat;
+    How Ilion perished, and the Danaan crew
+    Her power and all her wailful realm o'erthrew:
+    The woes I saw, thrice piteous to behold,
+    And largely shared. What Myrmidon, or who
+    Of stern Ulysses' warriors can withhold
+His tears, to tell such things, as thou would'st have re-told?
+
+II. "And now already from the heaven's high steep
+    The dewy night wheels down, and sinking slow,
+    The stars are gently wooing us to sleep.
+    But, if thy longing be so great to know
+    The tale of Troy's last agony and woe,
+    The toils we suffered, though my heart doth ache,
+    And grief would fain the memory forego
+    Of scenes so sad, yet, Lady, for thy sake
+I will begin,"--and thus the sire of Troy outspake;
+
+III. "Broken by war, long baffled by the force
+    Of fate, as fortune and their hopes decline,
+    The Danaan leaders build a monstrous horse,
+    Huge as a hill, by Pallas' craft divine,
+    And cleft fir-timbers in the ribs entwine.
+    They feign it vowed for their return, so goes
+    The tale, and deep within the sides of pine
+    And caverns of the womb by stealth enclose
+Armed men, a chosen band, drawn as the lots dispose.
+
+IV. "In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle
+    Renowned and rich, while Priam held command,
+    Now a mere bay and roadstead fraught with guile.
+    Thus far they sailed, and on the lonely strand
+    Lay hid, while fondly to Mycenae's land
+    We thought the winds had borne them. Troy once more
+    Shakes off her ten years' sorrow. Open stand
+    The gates. With joy to the abandoned shore,
+The places bare of foes, the Dorian lines we pour.
+
+V.  "Here camped the brave Dolopians, there was set
+    The tent of fierce Achilles; yonder lay
+    The fleet, and here the rival armies met
+    And mingled. Some with wonder and dismay
+    The maid Minerva's fatal gift survey.
+    Then first Thymaetes cries aloud, to go
+    And through the gates the monstrous horse convey
+    And lodge it in the citadel. E'en so
+His fraud or Troy's dark fates were working for our woe.
+
+VI. "But Capys and the rest, of sounder mind,
+    Urge us to tumble in the rolling tide
+    The doubtful gift, for treachery designed,
+    Or burn with fire, or pierce the hollow side,
+    And probe the caverns where the Danaans hide.
+    Thus while they waver and, perplext with doubt,
+    Urge diverse counsels, and in parts divide,
+    Lo, from the citadel, foremost of a rout,
+Breathless Laocoon runs, and from afar cries out;
+
+VII. "'Ah! wretched townsmen! do ye think the foe
+    Gone, or that guileless are their gifts? O blind
+    With madness! _Thus_ Ulysses do ye know?
+    Or Grecians in these timbers lurk confined,
+    Or 'tis some engine of assault, designed
+    To breach the walls, and lay our houses bare,
+    And storm the town. Some mischief lies behind.
+    Trust not the horse, ye Teucrians. Whatso'er
+This means, I fear the Greeks, for all the gifts they bear.'
+
+VIII. "So saying, his mighty spear, with all his force,
+    Full at the flank against the ribs he drave,
+    And pierced the bellying framework of the horse.
+    Quivering, it stood; the hollow chambers gave
+    A groan, that echoed from the womb's dark cave,
+    Then, but for folly or Fate's adverse power,
+    His word had made us with our trusty glaive
+    Lay bare the Argive ambush, and this hour
+Should Ilion stand, and thou, O Priam's lofty tower!
+
+IX. "Lo, now to Priam, with exulting cries,
+    The Dardan shepherds drag a youth unknown,
+    With hands fast pinioned, and in captive guise.
+    Caught on the way, by cunning of his own,
+    This end to compass, and betray the town.
+    Prepared for either venture, void of fear,
+    The crafty purpose of his mind to crown,
+    Or meet sure death. Around, from far and near,
+The Trojans throng, and vie the captive youth to jeer.
+
+X.  "Mark now the Danaans' cunning; from one wrong
+    Learn all. As, scared the Phrygian ranks to see,
+    Confused, unarmed, amid the gazing throng,
+    He stood, 'Alas! what spot on earth or sea
+    Is left,' he cried, 'to shield a wretch like me,
+    Whom Dardans seek in punishment to kill,
+    And Greeks disown?'--Touched by his tearful plea,
+    We asked his race, what tidings, good or ill,
+He brings, for hope, perchance, may cheer a captive still.
+
+XI. "Then he, at length his show of fear laid by,
+    'Great King, all truly will I own, whate'er
+    The issue, nor my Argive race deny.
+    This first; if fortune, spiteful and unfair,
+    Hath made poor Sinon wretched, fortune ne'er
+    Shall make me false or faithless;--if the name
+    Of Palamedes thou hast chanced to hear,
+    Old Belus' progeny, if ever came
+To thee or thine in talk the rumour of his fame,
+
+XII. "'Whom, pure of guilt, on charges false and feigned,
+    Wroth that his sentence should the war prevent,
+    By perjured witnesses the Greeks arraigned,
+    And doomed to die, but now his death lament,
+    His kinsman, by a needy father sent,
+    With him in boyhood to the war I came,
+    And while in plenitude of power he went,
+    And high in princely counsels waxed his fame,
+I too could boast of credit and a noble name.
+
+XIII. "'But when, through sly Ulysses' envious hate,
+    He left the light,--alas! the tale ye know,--
+    Stricken, I mused indignant on his fate,
+    And dragged my days in solitude and woe,
+    Nor in my madness kept my purpose low,
+    But vowed, if e'er should happier chance invite,
+    And bring me home a conqueror, even so
+    My comrade's death with vengeance to requite.
+My words aroused his wrath; thence evil's earliest blight;
+
+XIV. "'Thenceforth Ulysses sought with slanderous tongue
+    To daunt me, scattering in the people's ear
+    Dark hints, and looked for partners of his wrong:
+    Nor rested, till with Calchas' aid, the seer--
+    But why the thankless story should ye hear?
+    Why stay your hand? If Grecians in your sight
+    Are all alike, ye know enough; take here
+    Your vengeance. Dearly will my death delight
+Ulysses, well the deed will Atreus' sons requite.'
+
+XV. "Then, all unknowing of Pelasgian art
+    And crimes so huge, the story we demand,
+    And falteringly the traitor plays his part.
+    'Oft, wearied by the war, the Danaans planned
+    To leave--and oh! had they but left--the land.
+    As oft, to daunt them, in the act to fly,
+    Storms lashed the deep, and Southern gales withstand,
+    And louder still, when towered the horse on high
+With maple timbers, pealed the thunder through the sky.
+
+XVI. "'In doubt, we bade Eurypylus explore
+    Apollo's oracle, and back he brought
+    The dismal news: _With blood, a maiden's gore,
+    Ye stilled the winds, when Trojan shores ye sought.
+    With blood again must your return be bought;
+    An Argive victim doth the God demand._
+    Full fast the rumour 'mong the people wrought;
+    Cold horror chills us, and aghast we stand;
+Whom doth Apollo claim, whose death the Fates demand?
+
+XVII. "'Then straight Ulysses, 'mid tumultuous cries,
+    Drags Calchas forth, and bids the seer unfold
+    The dark and doubtful meaning of the skies.
+    Many e'en then the schemer's crime foretold,
+    And, silent, saw my destiny unrolled.
+    Ten days the seer, as shrinking to reply
+    Or name a victim, did the doom withhold;
+    Then, forced by false Ulysses' clamorous cry,
+Spake the concerted word, and sentenced me to die.
+
+XVIII. "'All praised the sentence, pleased that one alone
+    Should suffer, glad that one poor wretch should bear
+    The doom that each had dreaded for his own.
+    The fatal day was come; the priests prepare
+    The salted meal, the fillets for my hair.
+    I fled, 'tis true, and saved my life by flight,
+    Bursting my bonds in frenzy of despair,
+    And hidden in a marish lay that night,
+Waiting till they should sail, if sail, perchance, they might.
+
+XIX. "'No hope have I my ancient fatherland,
+    Or darling boys, or long-lost sire to see,
+    Whom now perchance, the Danaans will demand,
+    Poor souls! for vengeance, and their death decree,
+    To purge my crime, in daring to be free.
+    O by the gods, who know the just and true,
+    By faith unstained,--if any such there be,--
+    With mercy deign such miseries to view;
+Pity a soul that toils with evils all undue.'
+
+XX. "So, moved at length to pity by his tears,
+    We spare him. Priam bids the cords unbind,
+    And thus with friendly words the captive cheers;
+    'Whoe'er thou art, henceforward blot from mind
+    The Greeks, and leave thy miseries behind.
+    Ours shalt thou be; but mark, and tell me now,
+    What means this monster, for what use designed?
+    Some warlike engine? or religious vow?
+Who planned the steed, and why? Come, quick, the truth avow.'
+
+XXI. "Then schooled in cunning and Pelasgian sleights,
+    His hands unshackled to the stars he spread;
+    'Ye powers inviolate, ever-burning lights!
+    Ye ruthless swords and altars, which I fled,
+    Ye sacred fillets, that adorned my head!
+    Freed is my oath, and I am free to lay
+    Their secrets bare, and wish the Danaans dead.
+    Thou, Troy, preserved, to Sinon faithful stay,
+If true the tale I tell, if large the price I pay.
+
+XXII. "'All hopes on Pallas, since the war begun,
+    All trust was stayed. But when Ulysses, fain
+    To weave new crimes, with Tydeus' impious son
+    Dragged the Palladium from her sacred fane,
+    And, on the citadel the warders slain,
+    Upon the virgin's image dared to lay
+    Red hands of slaughter, and her wreaths profane,
+    Hope ebbed and failed them from that fatal day,
+The Danaans' strength grew weak, the goddess turned away.
+
+XXIII. "'No dubious signs Tritonia's wrath declared.
+    Scarce stood her image in the camp, when bright
+    With flickering flames her staring eyeballs glared.
+    Salt sweat ran down her; thrice, a wondrous sight!
+    With shield and quivering spear she sprang upright.
+    "Back o'er the deep," cries Calchas; "nevermore
+    Shall Argives hope to quell the Trojan might,
+    Till, homeward borne, new omens ye implore,
+And win the blessing back, which o'er the waves ye bore."
+
+XXIV. "'So now to Argos are they gone, to gain
+    Fresh help from heaven, and hither by surprise
+    Shall come once more, remeasuring the main.
+    Thus Calchas warned them; by his words made wise
+    This steed, for stol'n Palladium, they devise,
+    To soothe the outrag'd goddess. Tall and great,
+    With huge oak-timbers mounting to the skies,
+    They build the monster, lest it pass the gate,
+And like Palladium stand, the bulwark of the State.
+
+XXV. "'"Once had your hands," said Calchas, "dared profane
+    Minerva's gift, dire plagues" (which Heaven forestall
+    Or turn on him) "should Priam's realm sustain;
+    But if by Trojan aid it scaled your wall,
+    Proud Asia then should Pelops' sons enthrall,
+    And children rue the folly of the sire."'
+    His arts gave credence, and forced tears withal
+    Snared us, whom Diomede, nor Achilles dire,
+Nor thousand ships subdued, nor ten years' war could tire.
+
+XXVI. "A greater yet and ghastlier sign remained
+    Our heedless hearts to terrify anew.
+    Laocoon, Neptune's priest, by lot ordained,
+    A stately bull before the altar slew,
+    When lo!--the tale I shudder to pursue,--
+    From Tenedos in silence, side by side,
+    Two monstrous serpents, horrible to view,
+    With coils enormous leaning on the tide,
+Shoreward, with even stretch, the tranquil sea divide.
+
+XXVII. "Their breasts erect they rear amid the deep,
+    Their blood-red crests above the surface shine,
+    Their hinder parts along the waters sweep,
+    Trailed in huge coils and many a tortuous twine;
+    Lashed into foam, behind them roars the brine;
+    Now, gliding onward to the beach, ere long
+    They gain the fields, and rolling bloodshot eyne
+    That blaze with fire, the monsters move along,
+And lick their hissing jaws, and dart a flickering tongue.
+
+XXVIII. "Pale at the sight we fly; unswerving, these
+    Glide on and seek Laocoon. First, entwined
+    In stringent folds, his two young sons they seize,
+    With cruel fangs their tortured limbs to grind.
+    Then, as with arms he comes to aid, they bind
+    In giant grasp the father. Twice, behold,
+    Around his waist the horrid volumes wind,
+    Twice round his neck their scaly backs are rolled,
+High over all their heads and glittering crests unfold.
+
+XXIX. "Both hands are labouring the fierce knots to pull;
+    Black gore and slime his sacred wreaths distain.
+    Loud are his moans, as when a wounded bull
+    Shakes from his neck the faltering axe and, fain
+    To fly the cruel altars, roars in pain.
+    But lo! the serpents to Tritonia's seat
+    Glide from their victim, till the shrine they gain,
+    And, coiled beside the goddess, at her feet,
+Behind her sheltering shield with gathered orbs retreat.
+
+XXX. "Fresh wonder seized us, and we shook with fear.
+    All say, that justly had Laocoon died,
+    And paid fit penalty, whose guilty spear
+    Profaned the steed and pierced the sacred side.
+    'On with the image to its home,' they cried,
+    'And pray the Goddess to avert our woe';
+    We breach the walls, and ope the town inside.
+    All set to work, and to the feet below
+Fix wheels, and hempen ropes around the neck they throw.
+
+XXXI. "Mounting the walls, the monster moves along,
+    Teeming with arms. Boys, maidens joy around
+    To touch the ropes, and raise the festive song.
+    Onward it came, smooth-sliding on the ground,
+    And, beetling, o'er the midmost city frowned.
+    O native land! O Ilion, now betrayed!
+    Blest home of deities, in war renowned!
+    Four times beside the very gate 'twas stayed;
+Four times within the womb the armour clashed and brayed.
+
+XXXII. "But heedless, blind with frenzy, one and all
+    Up to the sacred citadel we strain,
+    And there the ill-omened prodigy install.
+    E'en then--alas! to Trojan ears in vain--
+    Cassandra sang, and told in utterance plain
+    The coming doom. We, sunk in careless joy,
+    Poor souls! with festive garlands deck each fane,
+    And through the town in revelry employ
+The day decreed our last, the dying hours of Troy!
+
+XXXIII. "And now the heaven rolled round. From ocean rushed
+    The Night, and wrapt in shadow earth and air
+    And Myrmidonian wiles. In silence hushed,
+    The Trojans through the city here and there,
+    Outstretched in sleep, their weary limbs repair.
+    Meanwhile from neighbouring Tenedos once more,
+    Beneath the tranquil moonbeam's friendly care,
+    With ordered ships, along the deep sea-floor,
+Back came the Argive host, and sought the well-known shore.
+
+XXXIV. "Forth from the royal galley sprang the flame,
+    When Sinon, screened by partial Fate, withdrew
+    The bolts and barriers of the pinewood frame,
+    And from its inmost caverns, bared to view,
+    The fatal horse disgorged the Danaan crew.
+    With joy from out the hollow wood they bound;
+    First, dire Ulysses, with his captains two,
+    Thessander bold and Sthenelus renowned,
+Down by a pendent rope come sliding to the ground.
+
+XXXV. "Then Thoas comes; and Acamas, athirst
+    For blood; and Neoptolemus, the heir
+    Of mighty Peleus; and Machaon first;
+    And Menelaus; and himself is there,
+    Epeus, framer of the fatal snare.
+    Now, stealing forward, on the town they fall,
+    Buried in wine and sleep, the guards o'erbear,
+    And ope the gates; their comrades at the call
+Pour in and, joining bands, all muster by the wall.
+
+XXXVI. "'Twas now the time, when on tired mortals crept
+    First slumber, sweetest that celestials pour.
+    Methought I saw poor Hector, as I slept,
+    All bathed in tears and black with dust and gore,
+    Dragged by the chariot and his swoln feet sore
+    With piercing thongs. Ah me! how sad to view,
+    How changed from him, that Hector, whom of yore
+    Returning with Achilles' spoils we knew,
+When on the ships of Greece his Phrygian fires he threw.
+
+XXXVII. "Foul is his beard, his hair is stiff with gore,
+    And fresh the wounds, those many wounds, remain,
+    Which erst around his native walls he bore.
+    Then, weeping too, I seem in sorrowing strain
+    To hail the hero, with a voice of pain.
+    'O light of Troy, our refuge! why and how
+    This long delay? Whence comest thou again,
+    Long-looked-for Hector? How with aching brow,
+Worn out by toil and death, do we behold thee now!
+
+XXXVIII. "'But oh! what dire indignity hath marred
+    The calmness of thy features? Tell me, why
+    With ghastly wounds do I behold thee scarred?'
+    To such vain quest he cared not to reply,
+    But, heaving from his breast a deep-drawn sigh,
+    'Fly, Goddess-born! and get thee from the fire!
+    The foes,' he said, 'are on the ramparts. Fly!
+    All Troy is tumbling from her topmost spire.
+No more can Priam's land, nor Priam's self require.
+
+XXXIX. "'Could Troy be saved by mortal prowess, mine,
+    Yea, mine had saved her. To thy guardian care
+    She doth her Gods and ministries consign.
+    Take them, thy future destinies to share,
+    And seek for them another home elsewhere,
+    That mighty city, which for thee and thine
+    O'er traversed ocean shall the Fates prepare.'
+    He spake, and quickly snatched from Vesta's shrine
+The deathless fire and wreaths and effigy divine.
+
+XL. "Meanwhile a mingled murmur through the street
+    Rolls onward,--wails of anguish, shrieks of fear,
+    And though my father's mansion stood secrete,
+    Embowered in foliage, nearer and more near
+    Peals the dire clang of arms, and loud and clear,
+    Borne on fierce echoes that in tumult blend,
+    War-shout and wail come thickening on the ear.
+    I start from sleep, the parapet ascend,
+And from the sloping roof with eager ears attend.
+
+XLI. "Like as a fire, when Southern gusts are rude,
+    Falls on the standing harvest of the plain,
+    Or torrent, hurtling with a mountain flood,
+    Whelms field and oxens' toil and smiling grain,
+    And rolls whole forests headlong to the main,
+    While, weetless of the noise, on neighbouring height,
+    Tranced in mute wonder, stands the listening swain,
+    Then, then I see that Hector's words were right,
+And all the Danaan wiles are naked to the light.
+
+XLII. "And now, Deiphobus, thy halls of pride,
+    Bowed by the flames, come ruining through the air;
+    Next burn Ucalegon's, and far and wide
+    The broad Sigean reddens with the glare.
+    Then come the clamour and the trumpet's blare.
+    Madly I rush to arms; though vain the fight,
+    Yet burns my soul, in fury and despair,
+    To rally a handful and to hold the height:
+Sweet seems a warrior's death and danger a delight.
+
+XLIII. "Lo, Panthus, flying from the Grecian bands,
+    Panthus, the son of Othrys, Phoebus' seer,
+    Bearing the sacred vessels in his hands,
+    And vanquished home-gods, to the door draws near,
+    His grandchild clinging to his side in fear.
+    'Panthus,' I cry, 'how fares the fight? what tower
+    Still hold we?'--Sighing, he replies ''Tis here,
+    The final end of all the Dardan power,
+The last, sad day has come, the inevitable hour.
+
+XLIV. "'Troy was, and we were Trojans, now, alas!
+    No more, for perished is the Dardan fame.
+    Fierce Jove to Argos biddeth all to pass,
+    And Danaans rule a city wrapt in flame.
+    High in the citadel the monstrous frame
+    Pours forth an armed deluge to the day,
+    And Sinon, puffed with triumph, spreads the flame.
+    Part throng the gates, part block each narrow way;
+Such hosts Mycenae sends, such thousands to the fray.
+
+XLV. "'Athwart the streets stands ready the array
+    Of steel, and bare is every blade and bright.
+    Scarce the first warders of the gates essay
+    To stand and battle in the blinding night.'
+    So spake the son of Othrys, and forthright,
+    My spirit stirred with impulse from on high,
+    I rush to arms amid the flames and fight,
+    Where yells the war-fiend and the warrior's cry,
+Mixt with the din of strife, mounts upward to the sky.
+
+XLVI. "Here warlike Epytus, renowned in fight,
+    And valiant Rhipeus gather to our side,
+    And Hypanis and Dymas, matched in might,
+    Join with us, by the glimmering moon descried.
+    Here Mygdon's son, Coroebus, we espied,
+    Who came to Troy,--Cassandra's love to gain,
+    And now his troop with Priam's hosts allied;
+    Poor youth and heedless! whom in frenzied strain
+His promised bride had warned, but warned, alas! in vain.
+
+XLVII. "So when the bold and compact band I see,
+    'Brave hearts,' I cry, 'but brave, alas! in vain;
+    If firm your purpose holds to follow me
+    Who dare the worst, our present plight is plain.
+    Troy's guardian gods have left her; altar, fane,
+    All is deserted, every temple bare.
+    The town ye aid is burning. Forward, then,
+    To die and mingle in the tumult's blare.
+Sole hope to vanquished men of safety is despair.'
+
+XLVIII. "Then fury spurred their courage, and behold,
+    As ravening wolves, when darkness hides the day,
+    Stung with mad fire of famine uncontrolled,
+    Prowl from their dens, and leave the whelps to stay,
+    With jaws athirst and gaping for the prey.
+    So to sure death, amid the darkness there,
+    Where swords, and spears, and foemen bar the way,
+    Into the centre of the town we fare.
+Night with her shadowy cone broods o'er the vaulted air.
+
+XLIX. "Oh, who hath tears to match our grief withal?
+    What tongue that night of havoc can make known
+    An ancient city totters to her fall,
+    Time-honoured empress and of old renown;
+    And senseless corpses, through the city strown,
+    Choke house and temple. Nor hath vengeance found
+    None save the Trojans; there the victors groan,
+    And valour fires the vanquished. All around
+Wailings, and wild affright and shapes of death abound.
+
+L.  "First of the Greeks approaches, with a crowd,
+    Androgeus; friends he deems us unaware,
+    And thus, with friendly summons, cries aloud:
+    'Haste, comrades, forward; from the fleet ye fare
+    With lagging steps but now, while yonder glare
+    Troy's towers, and others sack and share the spoils?'
+    Then straight--for doubtful was our answer there--
+    He knew him taken in the foemen's toils;
+Shuddering, he checks his voice, and back his foot recoils.
+
+LI. "As one who, in a tangled brake apart,
+    On some lithe snake, unheeded in the briar,
+    Hath trodden heavily, and with backward start
+    Flies, trembling at the head uplift in ire
+    And blue neck, swoln in many a glittering spire.
+    So slinks Androgeus, shuddering with dismay;
+    We, massed in onset, make the foe retire,
+    And slay them, wildered, weetless of the way.
+Fortune, with favouring smile, assists our first essay.
+
+LII. "Flushed with success and eager for the fray,
+    'Friends,' cries Coroebus, 'forward; let us go
+    Where Fortune newly smiling, points the way.
+    Take we the Danaans' bucklers; with a foe
+    Who asks, if craft or courage guide the blow?
+    Themselves shall arm us.'--Then he takes the crest,
+    The shield and dagger of Androgeus; so
+    Doth Rhipeus, so brave Dymas and the rest;
+All in the new-won spoils their eager limbs invest.
+
+LIII. "Thus we, elate, but not with Heaven our friend,
+    March on and mingle with the Greeks in fight,
+    And many a Danaan to the shades we send,
+    And many a battle in the blinding night
+    We join with those that meet us. Some in flight
+    Rush diverse to the ships and trusty tide;
+    Some, craven-hearted, in ignoble fright,
+    Make for the horse and, clambering up the side,
+Deep in the treacherous womb, their well-known refuge, hide.
+
+LIV. "Ah! vain to boast, if Heaven refuse to aid!
+    Dragged by her tresses from Minerva's fane,
+    Cassandra comes, the Priameian maid,
+    Stretching to heaven her burning eyes in vain,
+    Her eyes, for bonds her tender hands constrain.
+    That sight Coroebus brooked not. Stung with gall
+    And mad with rage, nor fearing to be slain,
+    He plunged amid their columns. One and all,
+With weapons massed, press on and follow at his call.
+
+LV. "Here first with missiles, from a temple's height
+    Hurled by our comrades, we are crushed and slain,
+    And piteous is the slaughter, at the sight
+    Of Argive helms for Argive foes mista'en.
+    Now too, with shouts of fury and disdain
+    To see the maiden rescued, here and there
+    The Danaans gathering round us, charge amain;
+    Fierce-hearted Ajax, the Atridan pair,
+And all Thessalia's host our scanty band o'erbear.
+
+LVI. "So, when the tempest bursting wakes the war,
+    The justling winds in conflict rave and roar,
+    South, West and East upon his orient car,
+    The lashed woods howl, and with his trident hoar
+    Nereus in foam upheaves the watery floor.
+    Those too, whom late we scattered through the town,
+    Tricked in the darkness, reappear once more.
+    At once the falsehood of our guise is known,
+The shields, the lying arms, the speech of different tone.
+
+LVII. "O'erwhelmed with odds, we perish; first of all,
+    Struck down by fierce Peneleus by the fane
+    Of warlike Pallas, doth Coroebus fall.
+    Next, Rhipeus dies, the justest, but in vain,
+    The noblest soul of all the Trojan train.
+    Heaven deemed him otherwise; then Dymas brave
+    And Hypanis by comrades' hands are slain.
+    Nor, Panthus, thee thy piety can save,
+Nor e'en Apollo's wreath preserve thee from the grave.
+
+LVIII. "Witness, ye ashes of our comrades dear,
+    Ye flames of Troy, that in your hour of woe
+    Nor darts I shunned, nor shock of Danaan spear.
+    If Fate my life had called me to forego,
+    This hand had earned it, forfeit to the foe.
+    Thence forced away, brave Iphitus, and I,
+    And Pelias,--Iphitus with age was slow,
+    And Pelias by Ulysses lamed--we fly
+Where round the palace rings the war-shout's rallying cry.
+
+LIX. "There raged a fight so fierce, as though no fight
+    Raged elsewhere, nor the city streamed with gore.
+    We see the War-God glorying in his might;
+    Up to the roof we see the Danaans pour;
+    Their shielded penthouse drives against the door.
+    Close cling their ladders to the walls; these, fain
+    To clutch the doorposts, climb from floor to floor,
+    Their right hands strive the battlements to gain,
+Their left with lifted shield the arrowy storm sustain.
+
+LX. "There, roof and pinnacle the Dardans tear--
+    Death standing near--and hurl them on the foe,
+    Last arms of need, the weapons of despair;
+    And gilded beams and rafters down they throw,
+    Ancestral ornaments of days ago.
+    These, stationed at the gates, with naked glaive,
+    Shoulder to shoulder, guard the pass below.
+    Hearts leap afresh the royal halls to save,
+And cheer our vanquished friends and reinspire the brave.
+
+LXI. "Behind the palace, unobserved and free,
+    There stood a door, a secret thoroughfare
+    Through Priam's halls. Here poor Andromache
+    While Priam's kingdom flourished and was fair,
+    To greet her husband's parents would repair
+    Alone, or carrying with tendance fain
+    To Hector's father Hector's son and heir.
+    By this I reached the roof-top, whence in vain
+The luckless Teucrians hurled their unavailing rain.
+
+LXII. "Sheer o'er the highest roof-top to the sky,
+    Skirting the parapet, a watch-tower rose,
+    Whence camp and fleet and city met the eye.
+    Here plying levers, where the flooring shows
+    Weak joists, we heave it over. Down it goes
+    With sudden crash upon the Danaan train,
+    Dealing wide ruin. But anon new foes
+    Come swarming up, while ever and again
+Fast fall the showers of stones, and thick the javelins rain.
+
+LXIII. "Just on the threshold of the porch, behold
+    Fierce Pyrrhus stands, in glittering brass bedight:
+    As when a snake, that through the winter's cold
+    Lay swoln and hidden in the ground from sight,
+    Gorged with rank herbs, forth issues to the light,
+    And sleek with shining youth and newly drest,
+    Wreathing its slippery volumes, towers upright
+    And, glorying, to the sunbeam rears its breast,
+And darts a three-forked tongue, and points a flaming crest.
+
+LXIV. "With him, Achilles' charioteer and squire,
+    Automedon, huge Periphas and all
+    The Scyrian youth rush up, and flaming fire
+    Hurl to the roof, and thunder at the wall.
+    He in the forefront, tallest of the tall,
+    Poleaxe in hand, unhinging at a stroke
+    The brazen portals, made the doorway fall,
+    And wide-mouthed as a window, through the oak,
+A panelled plank hewn out, a yawning rent he broke.
+
+LXV. "Bared stands the inmost palace, and behold,
+    The stately chambers and the courts appear
+    Of Priam and the Trojan Kings of old,
+    And warders at the door with shield and spear.
+    Moaning and tumult in the house we hear,
+    Wailings of misery, and shouts that smite
+    The golden stars, and women's shrieks of fear,
+    And trembling matrons, hurrying left and right,
+Cling to and kiss the doors, made frantic by affright.
+
+LXVI. "Strong as his father, Pyrrhus onward pushed,
+    Nor bars nor warders can his strength sustain.
+    Down sinks the door, with ceaseless battery crushed.
+    Force wins a footing, and, the foremost slain,
+    In, like a deluge, pours the Danaan train.
+    So when the foaming river, uncontrolled,
+    Bursts through its banks and riots on the plain,
+    O'er dyke and dam the gathering deluge rolled,
+From field to field sweeps on with cattle, flock and fold.
+
+LXVII. "These eyes saw Pyrrhus, rioting in blood,
+    Saw on the threshold the Atridae twain,
+    Saw where among a hundred daughters, stood
+    Pale Hecuba, saw Priam's life-blood stain
+    The fires his hands had hallowed in the fane.
+    Those fifty bridal chambers I behold
+    (So fair the promise of a future reign)
+    And spoil-deckt pillars of barbaric gold,
+A wreck; where fails the flame, its place the Danaans hold.
+
+LXVIII. "Haply the fate of Priam thou would'st know.
+    Soon as he saw the captured city fall,
+    The palace-gates burst open, and the foe
+    Dealing wild riot in his inmost hall,
+    Up sprang the old man and, at danger's call,
+    Braced o'er his trembling shoulders in a breath
+    His rusty armour, took his belt withal,
+    And drew the useless falchion from its sheath,
+And on their thronging spears rushed forth to meet his death.
+
+LXIX. "Within the palace, open to the day,
+    There stood a massive altar. Overhead,
+    With drooping boughs, a venerable bay
+    Its shadowy foliage o'er the home-gods spread.
+    Here, with her hundred daughters, pale with dread,
+    Poor Hecuba and all her female train,
+    As doves, that from the low'ring storm have fled,
+    And cower for shelter from the pelting rain,
+Crouch round the silent gods, and cling to them in vain.
+
+LXX. "But when in youthful arms came Priam near,
+    'Ah, hapless lord!' she cries, 'what mad desire
+    Arms thee for battle? Why this sword and spear?
+    And whither art thou hurrying? Times so dire
+    Not such defenders nor such help require.
+    Not e'en, were Hector here, my Hector's aid
+    Could save us. Hither to this shrine retire,
+    And share our safety or our death.'--She said,
+And to his hallowed seat the aged monarch led.
+
+LXXI. "See, now, Polites, one of Priam's sons,
+    Scarce slipt from Pyrrhus' butchery, and lame,
+    Through foes, through darts, along the cloisters runs
+    And empty courtyards. At his heels, aflame
+    With rage, comes Pyrrhus. Lo, in act to aim,
+    Now, now, he clutches him,--a moment more,
+    E'en as before his parent's eyes he came,
+    The long spear reached him. Prostrate on the floor
+Down falls the hapless youth, and welters in his gore.
+
+LXXII. "Then Priam, though hemmed with death on every side,
+    Spared not his utterance, nor his wrath controlled;
+    'To thee, yea, thee, fierce miscreant,' he cried,
+    'May Heaven,--if Heaven with righteous eyes behold
+    So foul an outrage and a deed so bold,
+    Ne'er fail a fitting guerdon to ordain,
+    Nor worthy quittance for thy crime withhold,
+    Whose hand hath made me see my darling slain,
+And dared with filial blood a father's eyes profane.
+
+LXXIII. "'Not so Achilles, whom thy lying tongue
+    Would feign thy father; like a foeman brave,
+    He scorned a suppliant's rights and trust to wrong,
+    And sent me home in safety,--ay, and gave
+    My Hector's lifeless body to the grave.'
+    The old man spoke and, with a feeble throw,
+    At Pyrrhus with a harmless dart he drave.
+    The jarring metal blunts it, and below
+The shield-boss, down it hangs, and foils the purposed blow.
+
+LXXIV. "'Go then,' cries Pyrrhus, 'with thy tale of woe
+    To dead Pelides, and thy plaints outpour.
+    To him, my father, in the shades below,
+    These deeds of his degenerate son deplore;
+    Now die!'--So speaking, to the shrine he tore
+    The aged Priam, trembling with affright,
+    And feebly sliding in his son's warm gore.
+    The left hand twists his hoary locks; the right
+Deep in his side drives home the falchion, bared and bright.
+
+LXXV. "Such close had Priam's fortunes; so his days
+    Were finished, such the bitter end he found,
+    Now doomed by Fate with dying eyes to gaze
+    On Troy in flames and ruin all around,
+    And Pergamus laid level with the ground.
+    Lo, he to whom once Asia bowed the knee,
+    Proud lord of many peoples, far-renowned,
+    Now left to welter by the rolling sea,
+A huge and headless trunk, a nameless corpse is he.
+
+LXXVI. "Grim horror seized me, and aghast I stood.
+    Uprose the image of my father dear,
+    As there I see the monarch, bathed in blood,
+    Like him in prowess and in age his peer.
+    Uprose Creusa, desolate and drear,
+    Iulus' peril, and a plundered home.
+    I look around for comrades; none are near.
+    Some o'er the battlements leapt headlong, some
+Sank fainting in the flames; the final hour was come.
+
+LXXVII. "I stood alone, when lo, in Vesta's fane
+    I see Tyndarean Helen, crouching down.
+    Bright shone the blaze around me, as in vain
+    I tracked my comrades through the burning town.
+    There, mute, and, as the traitress deemed, unknown,
+    Dreading the Danaan's vengeance, and the sword
+    Of Trojans, wroth for Pergamus o'erthrown,
+    Dreading the anger of her injured lord,
+Sat Troy's and Argos' fiend, twice hateful and abhorred.
+
+LXXVIII. "Then, fired with passion and revenge, I burn
+    To quit Troy's downfall and exact the fee
+    Such crimes deserve. Sooth, then, shall _she_ return
+    To Sparta and Mycenae, ay, and see
+    Home, husband, sons and parents, safe and free,
+    With Ilian wives and Phrygians in her train,
+    A queen, in pride of triumph? Shall this be,
+    And Troy have blazed and Priam's self been slain,
+And Trojan blood so oft have soaked the Dardan plain?
+
+LXXIX. "Not so; though glory wait not on the act;
+    Though poor the praise, and barren be the gain,
+    Vengeance on feeble woman to exact,
+    Yet praised hereafter shall his name remain,
+    Who purges earth of such a monstrous stain.
+    Sweet is the passion of vindictive joy,
+    Sweet is the punishment, where just the pain,
+    Sweet the fierce ardour of revenge to cloy,
+And slake with Dardan blood the funeral flames of Troy.
+
+LXXX. "So mused I, blind with anger, when in light
+    Apparent, never so refulgent seen,
+    My mother dawned irradiate on the night,
+    Confessed a Goddess, such her form, and mien
+    And starry stature of celestial sheen.
+    With her right hand she grasped me from above,
+    And thus with roseate lips: 'O son, what mean
+    These transports? Say, what bitter grief doth move
+Thy soul to rage untamed? Where vanished is thy love?
+
+LXXXI. "'Wilt thou not see, if yet thy sire survive,
+    Worn out with age, amid the war's alarms?
+    And if thy wife Creusa be alive,
+    And young Ascanius? for around thee swarms
+    The foe, and but for my protecting arms,
+    Fierce sword or flame had swept them all away.
+    Not oft-blamed Paris, nor the hateful charms
+    Of Helen; Heaven, unpitying Heaven to-day
+Hath razed the Trojan towers and reft the Dardan sway.
+
+LXXXII. "'Look now, for I will clear the mists that shroud
+    Thy mortal gaze, and from the visual ray
+    Purge the gross covering of this circling cloud.
+    Thou heed, and fear not, whatsoe'er I say,
+    Nor scorn thy mother's counsels to obey.
+    Here, where thou seest the riven piles o'erthrown,
+    Mixt dust and smoke, rock torn from rock away,
+    Great Neptune's trident shakes the bulwarks down,
+And from its lowest base uproots the trembling town.
+
+LXXXIII. "'Here, girt with steel, the foremost in the fight,
+    Fierce Juno stands, the Scaean gates before,
+    And, mad with fury and malignant spite,
+    Calls up her federate forces from the shore.
+    See, on the citadel, all grim with gore,
+    Red-robed, and with the Gorgon shield aglow,
+    Tritonian Pallas bids the conflict roar.
+    E'en Jove with strength reanimates the foe,
+And stirs the powers of heaven to work the Dardan's woe.
+
+LXXXIV. "'Haste, son, and fly; the fruitless toil give o'er.
+    I will not leave thee, but assist thy flight,
+    And set thee safely at thy father's door.'
+    She spake, and vanished in the gloom of night.
+    Dread shapes and forms terrific loomed in sight,
+    And hostile deities, whose faces frowned
+    Destruction. Then, amid the lurid light,
+    I see Troy sinking in the flames around,
+And mighty Neptune's walls laid level with the ground.
+
+LXXXV. "So, when an aged ash on mountain tall
+    Stout woodmen strive, with many a rival blow,
+    To rend from earth; awhile it threats to fall,
+    With quivering locks and nodding head; now slow
+    It sinks and, with a dying groan lies low,
+    And spreads its ruin on the mountain side.
+    Down from the citadel I haste below,
+    Through foe, through fire, the goddess for my guide.
+Harmless the darts give way, the sloping flames divide.
+
+LXXXVI. "But when Anchises' ancient home I gain,
+    My father,--he, whom first, with loving care,
+    I sought and, heedful of my mother, fain
+    In safety to the neighbouring hills would bear,
+    Disdains Troy's ashes to outlive and wear
+    His days in banishment: 'Fly ye, who may,
+    Whom age hath chilled not, nor the years impair.
+    For me, had Heaven decreed a longer day,
+Heaven too had spared these walls, nor left my home a prey.
+
+LXXXVII. "'Enough and more, to live when Ilion fell,
+    And once to see Troy captured. Leave me, pray,
+    And bid me, as a shrouded corpse, farewell.
+    For death--this hand will find for me the way,
+    Or foes who spoil will pity me and slay.
+    Light is the loss of sepulchre or pyre,
+    Loathed have I lived and useless, since the day
+    When man's great monarch and the God's dread sire
+Breathed his avenging blast and scathed me with his fire.'
+
+LXXXVIII. "So spake he, on his purpose firmly bent.
+    We--wife, child, family and I--with prayer
+    And tears entreat the father to relent,
+    Nor doom us all the common wreck to share,
+    And urge the ruin that the Fates prepare.
+    He heeds not--stirs not. Then again I fly
+    To arms--to arms, in frenzy of despair,
+    And long in utter misery to die.
+What other choice was left, what other chance to try?
+
+LXXXIX. "'What, _I_ to leave thee helpless, and to flee?
+    O father! could'st thou fancy it? Could e'er
+    A parent speak of such a crime to me?
+    If Heaven of such a city naught should spare,
+    And thou be pleased that thou and thine should share
+    The common wreck, that way to death is plain.
+    Wide stands the door; soon Pyrrhus will be there,
+    Red with the blood of Priam; he hath slain
+The son before his sire, the father in the fane.
+
+XC. "'Dost thou for _this_, dear mother, me through fire
+    And foemen safely to my home restore;
+    To see Creusa, and my son and sire
+    Each foully butchered in the other's gore,
+    And Danaans dealing slaughter at the door?
+    Arms--bring me arms! Troy's dying moments call
+    The vanquished. Give me to the Greeks. Once more
+    Let me revive the battle; ne'er shall all
+Die unrevenged this day, nor tamely meet their fall.'
+
+XCI. "Once more I girt me with the sword and shield,
+    And forth had soon into the battle hied,
+    When lo, Creusa at the doorway kneeled,
+    And reached Iulus to his sire and cried:
+    'If death thou seekest, take me at thy side
+    Thy death to share, but if, expert in strife,
+    Thou hop'st in arms, here guard us and abide.
+    To whom dost thou expose Iulus' life,
+Thy father's, yea, and mine, once called, alas! thy wife.'
+
+XCII. "So wailed Creusa, and in wild despair
+    Filled all the palace with her sobs and cries,
+    When lo! a portent, wondrous to declare.
+    For while, 'twixt sorrowing parents' hands and eyes,
+    Stood young Iulus, wildered with surprise,
+    Up from the summit of his fair, young head
+    A tuft was seen of flickering flame to rise.
+    Gently and harmless to the touch it spread
+Around his tender brows, and on his temples fed.
+
+XCIII. "In haste we strive to quench the flame divine,
+    Shaking the tresses of his burning hair.
+    But gladly sire Anchises hails the sign,
+    And gazing upward through the starlit air,
+    His hands and voice together lifts in prayer:
+    'O Jove omnipotent, dread power benign,
+    If aught our piety deserve, if e'er
+    A suppliant move thee, hearken and incline
+This once, and aid us now and ratify thy sign.'
+
+XCIV. "Scarce spake the sire when lo, to leftward crashed
+    A peal of thunder, and amid the night
+    A sky-dropt star athwart the darkness flashed,
+    Trailing its torchfire with a stream of light.
+    We mark the dazzling meteor in its flight
+    Glide o'er the roof, till, vanished from our eyes,
+    It hides in Ida's forest, shining bright
+    And furrowing out a pathway through the skies,
+And round us far and wide the sulphurous fumes arise.
+
+XCV. "Up rose my sire, submissive to the sign,
+    And briefly to the Gods addressed his prayer,
+    And bowed adoring to the star divine.
+    'Now, now,' he cries, 'no tarrying; wheresoe'er
+    Ye point the path, I follow and am there.
+    Gods of my fathers! O preserve to-day
+    My home, preserve my grandchild; for your care
+    Is Troy, and yours this omen. I obey;
+Lead on, my son, I yield and follow on thy way.'
+
+XCVI. "He spake, and nearer through the city came
+    The roar, the crackle and the fiery glow
+    Of conflagration, rolling floods of flame.
+    'Quick, father, mount my shoulders; let us go.
+    That toil shall never tire me. Come whatso
+    The Fates shall bring us, both alike shall share
+    One common welfare or one common woe.
+    Let young Iulus at my side repair;
+Keep thou, my wife, aloof, and follow as we fare.
+
+XCVII. "'Ye too, my servants, hearken my commands.
+    Outside the city is a mound, where, dear
+    To Ceres once, but now deserted, stands
+    A temple, and an aged cypress near,
+    For ages hallowed with religious fear,
+    There meet we. Father, in thy charge remain
+    Troy's gods; for me, red-handed with the smear
+    Of blood, and fresh from slaughter, 'twere profane
+To touch them, ere the stream hath cleansed me of the stain.'
+
+XCVIII. "So saying, my neck and shoulders I incline,
+    And round them fling a lion's tawny hide,
+    Then lift the load. His little hand in mine,
+    Iulus totters at his father's side;
+    Behind me comes Creusa. On we stride
+    Through shadowy ways; and I who rushing spear
+    And thronging foes but lately had defied,
+    Now fear each sound, each whisper of the air,
+Trembling for him I lead, and for the charge I bear.
+
+XCIX. "And now I neared the gates, and thought my flight
+    Achieved, when suddenly a noise we hear
+    Of trampling feet, and, peering through the night,
+    My father cries, 'Fly, son, the Greeks are near;
+    They come, I see the glint of shield and spear,
+    Fierce foes in front and flashing arms behind.'
+    Then trembling seized me and, amidst my fear,
+    What power I know not, but some power unkind
+Confused my wandering wits, and robbed me of my mind.
+
+C.  "For while, the byways following, I left
+    The beaten track, ah! woe and well away!
+    My wife Creusa lost me;--whether reft
+    By Fate, or faint or wandering astray,
+    I know not, nor have seen her since that day,
+    Nor sought, nor missed her, till in Ceres' fane
+    We met at length, and mustered our array.
+    There she alone was wanting of our train,
+And husband, son and friends all looked for her in vain!
+
+CI. "Whom then did I upbraid not, wild with woe,
+    Of gods or men? What sadder sight elsewhere
+    Had Troy, now whelmed in utter wreck, to show?
+    Troy's gods commending to my comrades' care,
+    With old Anchises and my infant heir,
+    I hide them in a winding vale from view,
+    Then, sheathed again in shining arms, prepare
+    Once more to scour the city through and through,
+Resolved to brave all risks, all ventures to renew.
+
+CII. "I reach the ramparts and the shadowy gates
+    Whence first I issued, backward through the night
+    My studied steps retracing. Horror waits
+    Around; the very silence breeds affright.
+    Then homeward turn, if haply in her flight,
+    If, haply, thither she had strayed; but ere
+    I came, behold, the Danaans, loud in fight,
+    Swarmed through the halls; roof-high the fiery glare,
+Fanned by the wind, mounts up; the loud blast roars in air.
+
+CIII. "Again to Priam's palace, and again
+    Up to the citadel I speed my way.
+    Armed, in the vacant courts, by Juno's fane,
+    Phoenix and curst Ulysses watched the prey.
+    There, torn from many a burning temple, lay
+    Troy's wealth; the tripods of the Gods were there,
+    Piled in huge heaps, and raiment snatched away,
+    And golden bowls, and dames with streaming hair
+And tender boys stand round, and tremble with despair.
+
+CIV. "I shout, and through the darkness shout again,
+    Rousing the streets, and call and call anew
+    'Creusa,' and 'Creusa,' but in vain.
+    From house to house in frenzy as I flew,
+    A melancholy spectre rose in view,
+    Creusa's very image; ay, 'twas there,
+    But larger than the living form I knew.
+    Aghast I stood, tongue-tied, with stiffening hair.
+Then she addressed me thus, and comforted my care.
+
+CV. "'What boots this idle passion? Why so fain
+    Sweet husband, thus to sorrow and repine?
+    Naught happens here but as the Gods ordain.
+    It may not be, nor doth the Lord divine
+    Of high Olympus nor the Fates design
+    That thou should'st take Creusa. Seas remain
+    To plough, long years of exile must be thine,
+    Ere thou at length Hesperia's land shalt gain,
+Where Lydian Tiber glides through many a peopled plain.
+
+CVI. "'Wide rule and happy days await thee there,
+    And royal marriage shall thy portion be.
+    Weep not for lov'd Creusa, weep not; ne'er
+    To Grecian women shall I bow the knee,
+    Never in Argos see captivity,
+    I, who my lineage from the Dardans tell,
+    Allied to Venus. Now, by Fate's decree,
+    Here with the mother of the Gods I dwell.
+Farewell, and guard in love our common child. Farewell!'
+
+CVII. "So spake she, and with weeping eyes I yearned
+    To answer, wondering at the words she said,
+    When lo, the shadowy spirit, as I turned,
+    Dissolved in air, and in a moment fled.
+    Thrice round the neck with longing I essayed
+    To clasp the phantom in a wild delight;
+    Thrice, vainly clasped, the visionary shade
+    Mocked me embracing, and was lost to sight,
+Swift as a winged wind or slumber of the night.
+
+CVIII. "Back to my friends I hasten. There, behold,
+    Matrons and men, a miserable band,
+    Gathered for exile. From each side they shoaled,
+    Resolved and ready over sea and land
+    My steps to follow, where the Fates command.
+    Now over Ida shone the day-star bright;
+    Greeks swarmed at every entrance; help at hand
+    Seemed none. I yield, and, hurrying from the fight,
+Take up my helpless sire, and climb the mountain height."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THREE
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+In obedience to oracles the Trojans build a fleet and sail to Thrace
+(1-18). Seeking to found a city, they are warned away by the ghost
+of Polydorus and visit Anius in Ortygia (19-99). Apollo promises
+AEneas and his descendants world-wide empire if they return to "the
+ancient motherland" of Troy,--which Anchises declares to be Crete
+(100-144). They reach Crete, only to be again baffled. Drought and
+plague interrupt this second attempt to found a city. On the point
+of returning to ask Apollo for clearer counsel, AEneas in a dream
+is certified by the home-gods of Troy that the true motherland is
+Italy (145-207). Anchises owns his mistake, and recalls how
+Cassandra had in other days been mocked for prophesying that Troy
+should eventually be transplanted to Italy (208-225). Landing in the
+Strophades, they unwittingly wrong the Harpies, whose queen Celaeno
+thereupon threatens them with a portentous famine. Panic-stricken,
+they coast along to Actium, where they celebrate their national games
+and leave a defiance to the Greeks (226-342). At Buthrotum they find
+Helenus and Andromache in possession of the kingdom of Pyrrhus, and
+by them are entertained awhile and sent upon their way with gifts
+and guidance (343-577). The voyage from Dyrrhachium and the first
+glimpse of Italy. They land and propitiate Juno: then coast along
+till they sight Mount AEtna (578-666). After a description of the
+rescue of Achemenides and the escape from Polyphemus, the voyage and
+the story end with the death of Anchises at Drepanum (667-819).
+
+
+I.  "When now the Gods have made proud Ilion fall,
+    And Asia's power and Priam's race renowned
+    O'erwhelmed in ruin undeserved, and all
+    Neptunian Troy lies smouldering on the ground,
+    In desert lands, to diverse exile bound,
+    Celestial portents bid us forth to fare;
+    Where Ida's heights above Antandros frowned,
+    A fleet we build, and gather crews, unware
+Which way the Fates will lead, what home is ours and where.
+
+II. "Scarce now the summer had begun, when straight
+    My father, old Anchises, gave command
+    To spread our canvas and to trust to Fate.
+    Weeping, I leave my native port, the land,
+    The fields where once the Trojan towers did stand,
+    And, homeless, launch upon the boundless brine,
+    Heart-broken outcast, with an exiled band,
+    Comrades, and son, and household gods divine,
+And the great Gods of Troy, the guardians of our line.
+
+III. "Far off there lies, with many a spacious plain,
+    The land of Mars, by Thracians tilled and sown,
+    Where stern Lycurgus whilom held his reign;
+    A hospitable shore, to Troy well-known,
+    Her home-gods leagued in union with our own,
+    While Fortune smiled. Hither, with fates malign,
+    I steer, and landing for our purposed town
+    The walls along the winding shore design,
+And coin for them a name 'AEneadae' from mine.
+
+IV. "Due rites to Venus and the gods I bore,
+    The work to favour, and a sleek, white steer
+    To Heaven's high King was slaughtering on the shore.
+    With cornel shrubs and many a prickly spear
+    Of myrtle crowned, it chanced a mound was near.
+    Thither I drew, and strove with eager hold
+    A green-leaved sapling from the soil to tear,
+    To shade with boughs the altars, when behold
+A portent, weird to see and wondrous to unfold!
+
+V.  "Scarce the first stem uprooted, from the wood
+    Black drops distilled, and stained the earth with gore.
+    Cold horror shook me, in my veins the blood
+    Was chilled, and curdled with affright. Once more
+    A limber sapling from the soil I tore;
+    Once more, persisting, I resolved in mind
+    With inmost search the causes to explore
+    And probe the mystery that lurked behind;
+Dark drops of blood once more come trickling from the rind.
+
+VI. "Much-musing, to the woodland nymphs I pray,
+    And Mars, the guardian of the Thracian plain,
+    With favouring grace the omen to allay,
+    And bless the dreadful vision. Then again
+    A third tall shaft I grasp, with sinewy strain
+    And firm knees pressed against the sandy ground;
+    When O! shall tongue make utterance or refrain?
+    Forth from below a dismal, groaning sound
+Heaves, and a piteous voice is wafted from the mound:
+
+VII. "'Spare, O AEneas, spare a wretch, nor shame
+    Thy guiltless hands, but let the dead repose.
+    From Troy, no alien to thy race, I came.
+    O, fly this greedy shore, these cruel foes!
+    Not from the tree--from Polydorus flows
+    This blood, for I am Polydorus. Here
+    An iron crop o'erwhelmed me, and uprose
+    Bristling with pointed javelins.'--Mute with fear,
+Perplext, aghast I stood, and upright rose my hair.
+
+VIII. "This Polydorus Priam from the war
+    To Thracia's King in secret had consigned
+    With store of gold, when, girt with siege, he saw
+    Troy's towers, and trust in Dardan arms resigned.
+    But when our fortune and our hopes declined,
+    The treacherous King the conqueror's cause professed,
+    And, false to faith, to friendship and to kind,
+    Slew Polydorus, and his wealth possessed.
+Curst greed of gold, what crimes thy tyrant power attest!
+
+IX. "Now, freed from terror, to my father first,
+    Then to choice friends the vision I declare.
+    All vote to sail, and quit the shore accurst.
+    So to his shade, with funeral rites, we rear
+    A mound, and altars to the dead prepare,
+    Wreathed with dark cypress. Round them, as of yore,
+    Pace Troy's sad matrons, with their streaming hair.
+    Warm milk from bowls, and holy blood we pour,
+And thrice with loud farewell the peaceful shade deplore.
+
+X.  "Soon as our ships can trust the deep once more,
+    And South-winds chide, and Ocean smiles serene,
+    We crowd the beach, and launch, and town and shore
+    Fade from our view. Amid the waves is seen
+    An island, sacred to the Nereids' queen
+    And Neptune, lord of the AEgean wave,
+    Which, floating once, Apollo fixed between
+    High Myconos and Gyarus, and gave
+For man's resort, unmoved the blustering winds to brave.
+
+XI. "Hither we sail and on this island fair,
+    Worn out, find welcome in a sheltered bay,
+    And, landing, hail Apollo's town with prayer.
+    King Anius here, enwreath'd with laurel spray,
+    The priest of Phoebus meets us on the way;
+    With joy at once he recognised again
+    His friend Anchises of an earlier day.
+    And joining hands in fellowship, each fain
+To show a friendly heart the palace-halls we gain.
+
+XII. "There, in a temple built of ancient stone
+    I worship: 'Grant, Thymbrean lord divine,
+    A home, a settled city of our own,
+    Walls to the weary, and a lasting line,
+    To Troy another Pergamus. Incline
+    And harken. Save these Dardans sore-distrest,
+    The remnant of Achilles' wrath. Some sign
+    Vouchsafe us, whom to follow? where to rest?
+Steal into Trojan hearts, and make thy power confessed.'
+
+XIII. "Scarce spake I, suddenly the bays divine
+    Shook, and a trembling seized the temple door.
+    The mountain heaves, and from the opening shrine
+    Loud moans the tripod. Prostrate on the floor
+    We hear a voice; 'Brave hearts, the land that bore
+    Your sires shall nurse their Dardan sons again.
+    Seek out your ancient mother; from her shore
+    Through all the world the AEneian house shall reign,
+And sons of sons unborn the lasting line sustain.'
+
+XIV. "Straight rose a joyous uproar; each in turn
+    Ask what the walls that Phoebus hath designed?
+    Which way to wander, whither to return?
+    Then spake my sire, revolving in his mind
+    The ancient legends of the Trojan kind,
+    'Chieftains, give ear, and learn your hopes and mine;
+    Jove's island lies, amid the deep enshrined,
+    Crete, hundred-towned, a land of corn and wine,
+Where Ida's mountain stands, the cradle of our line.
+
+XV. "'Thence Troy's great sire, if I remember right,
+    Old Teucer, to Rhoeteum crossed the flood,
+    And for his future kingdom chose a site.
+    Nor yet proud Ilion nor her towers had stood;
+    In lowly vales sequestered they abode.
+    Thence Corybantian cymbals clashed and brayed
+    In praise of Cybele. In Ida's wood
+    Her mystic rites in secrecy were paid,
+And lions, yoked in pomp, their sovereign's car conveyed.
+
+XVI. "'Come then and seek we, as the gods command,
+    The Gnosian kingdoms, and the winds entreat.
+    Short is the way, nor distant lies the land.
+    If Jove be present and assist our fleet,
+    The third day lands us on the shores of Crete.'
+    So spake he and on altars, reared aright,
+    Due victims offered, and libations meet;
+    A bull to Neptune and Apollo bright,
+To tempest a black lamb, to Western winds a white.
+
+XVII. "Fame flies, Idomeneus has left the land,
+    Expelled his kingdom; that the shore lies clear
+    Of foes, and homes are ready to our hand.
+    Ortygia's port we leave, and skim the mere;
+    Soon Naxos' Bacchanalian hills appear,
+    And past Olearos and Donysa, crowned
+    With trees, and Paros' snowy cliffs we steer.
+    Far-scattered shine the Cyclades renowned,
+And clustering isles thick-sown in many a glittering sound.
+
+XVIII. "Loud rise the shouts of sailors to the sky;
+    'Crete and our fathers,' rings for all to hear
+    The cry of oarsmen. Through the deep we fly;
+    Behind us sings the stern breeze loud and clear.
+    So to the shores of ancient Crete we steer.
+    There in glad haste I trace the wished-for town,
+    And call the walls 'Pergamea,' and cheer
+    My comrades, glorying in the name well-known,
+The castled keep to raise, and guard the loved hearth-stone.
+
+XIX. "Scarce stand the vessels hauled upon the beach,
+    And bent on marriages the young men vie
+    To till new settlements, while I to each
+    Due law dispense and dwelling place supply,
+    When from a tainted quarter of the sky
+    Rank vapours, gathering, on my comrades seize,
+    And a foul pestilence creeps down from high
+    On mortal limbs and standing crops and trees,
+A season black with death, and pregnant with disease.
+
+XX. "Sweet life from mortals fled; they drooped and died.
+    Fierce Sirius scorched the fields, and herbs and grain
+    Were parched, and food the wasting crops denied.
+    Once more Anchises bids us cross the main
+    And seek Ortygia, and the god constrain
+    By prayer to pardon and advise, what end
+    Of evils to expect? what woes remain?
+    What fate hereafter shall our steps attend?
+What rest for toil-worn men, and whitherward to wend?
+
+XXI. "'Twas night; on earth all creatures were asleep,
+    When lo! the figures of our gods, the same
+    Whom erst from falling Ilion o'er the deep
+    I brought, scarce rescued from the midmost flame,
+    Before me, sleepless for my country's shame,
+    Stood plain, in plenteousness of light confessed,
+    Where streaming through the sunken lattice came
+    The moon's full splendour, and their speech addressed,
+And I in heart took comfort, hearing their behest.
+
+XXII. "'Lo! what Apollo from Ortygia's shrine
+    Would sing, unasked he sends us to proclaim.
+    We who have followed o'er the billowy brine
+    Thee and thine arms, since Ilion sank in flame,
+    Will raise thy children to the stars, and name
+    Thy walls imperial. Thou build them meet
+    For heroes. Shrink not from thy journey's aim,
+    Though long the way. Not here thy destined seat,
+So saith the Delian god, not thine the shores of Crete.
+
+XXIII. "'Far off there lies, across the rolling wave,
+    An ancient land, which Greeks Hesperia name;
+    Her soil is fruitful and her people brave.
+    Th' OEnotrians held it once, by later fame
+    The name Italia from their chief they claim.
+    Thence sprang great Dardanus; there lies thy seat;
+    Thence sire Iasius and the Trojans came.
+    Rise, and thy parent with these tidings greet,
+To seek Ausonian shores, for Jove denies thee Crete.'
+
+XXIV. "Awed by the vision and the voice divine
+    ('Twas no mere dream; their very looks I knew,
+    I saw the fillets round their temples twine,
+    And clammy sweat did all my limbs bedew)
+    Forthwith, upstarting, from the couch I flew,
+    And hands and voice together raised in prayer,
+    And wine unmixt upon the altars threw.
+    This done, to old Anchises I repair,
+Pleased with the rites fulfilled, and all the tale declare.
+
+XXV. "The two-fold race Anchises understands,
+    The double sires, and owns himself misled
+    By modern error 'twixt two ancient lands.
+    'O son, long trained in Ilian fates,' he said,
+    This chance Cassandra, she alone, displayed.
+    Oft to Hesperia and Italia's reign
+    She called us. Ah! who listened or obeyed?
+    Who dreamed that Teucrians should Hesperia gain?
+Yield we to Phoebus now, nor wisdom's words disdain.'
+
+XXVI. "All hail the speech. We quit this other home,
+    And leaving here a handful on the shore,
+    Spread sail and scour with hollow keel the foam.
+    The fleet was on mid ocean; land no more
+    Was visible, naught else above, before
+    But sky and sea, when overhead did loom
+    A storm-cloud, black as heaven itself, that bore
+    Dark night and wintry tempest in its womb,
+And all the waves grew rough and shuddered with the gloom.
+
+XXVII. "Winds roll the waters, and the great seas rise.
+    Dispersed we welter on the gulfs. Damp night
+    Has snatched with rain the heaven from our eyes,
+    And storm-mists in a mantle wrapt the light.
+    Flash after flash, and for a moment bright,
+    Quick lightnings rend the welkin. Driven astray
+    We wander, robbed of reckoning, reft of sight.
+    No difference now between the night and day
+E'en Palinurus sees, nor recollects the way.
+
+XXVIII. "Three days, made doubtful by the blinding gloom,
+    As many nights, when not a star is seen,
+    We wander on, uncertain of our doom.
+    At last the fourth glad daybreak clears the scene,
+    And rising land, and opening uplands green,
+    And rolling smoke at distance greet the view.
+    No longer tarrying; to our oars we lean.
+    Down drop the sails; in order ranged, each crew
+Flings up the foam to heaven, and sweeps the sparkling blue.
+
+XXIX. "Saved from the sea, the Strophades we gain,
+    So called in Greece, where dwells, with Harpies, dire
+    Celaeno, in the vast Ionian main,
+    Since, forced from Phineus' palace to retire,
+    They fled their former banquet. Heavenly ire
+    Ne'er sent a pest more loathsome; ne'er were seen
+    Worse plagues to issue from the Stygian mire--
+    Birds maiden-faced, but trailing filth obscene,
+With taloned hands and looks for ever pale and lean.
+
+XXX. "The harbour gained, lo! herds of oxen bright
+    And goats untended browse the pastures fair.
+    We, sword in hand, make onset, and invite
+    The gods and Jove himself the spoil to share,
+    And piling couches, banquet on the fare.
+    When straight, down-swooping from the hills meanwhile
+    The Harpies flap their clanging wings, and tear
+    The food, and all with filthy touch defile,
+And, mixt with screams, uprose a sickening stench and vile.
+
+XXXI. "Once more, within a cavern screened from view,
+    Where circling trees a rustling shade supply,
+    The boards are spread, the altars blaze anew.
+    Back, from another quarter of the sky,
+    Dark-ambushed, round the clamorous Harpies fly
+    With taloned claws, and taste and taint the prey.
+    To arms I call my comrades, and defy
+    The loathsome brood to battle. They obey,
+And swords and bucklers hide amid the grass away.
+
+XXXII. "So when their screams descending fill the strand,
+    Misenus from his outlook sounds the fray.
+    All to the strange encounter, sword in hand,
+    Rush forth, these miscreants of the deep to slay.
+    No wounds they take, no weapon wins its way.
+    Swiftly they soar, all leaving, ere they go,
+    Their filthy traces on the half-gorged prey.
+    One perched, Celaeno, on a rock, and lo,
+Thus croaked the dismal seer her prophecy of woe.
+
+XXXIII. "'War, too, Laomedon's twice-perjured race!
+    War do ye bring, our cattle stol'n and slain?
+    And unoffending Harpies would ye chase
+    Forth from their old, hereditary reign?
+    Mark then my words and in your breasts retain.
+    What Jove, the Sire omnipotent, of old
+    Revealed to Phoebus, and to me again
+    Phoebus Apollo at his hest foretold,
+I now to thee and thine, the Furies' Queen, unfold.
+
+XXXIV. "'Ye seek Italia and, with favouring wind,
+    Shall reach Italia, and her ports attain.
+    But ne'er the town, by Destiny assigned,
+    Your walls shall gird, till famine's pangs constrain
+    To gnaw your boards, in quittance for our slain.'
+    So spake the Fiend, and backward to the wood
+    Soared on the wing. Cold horror froze each vein.
+    Aghast and shuddering my comrades stood;
+Down sank at once each heart, and terror chilled the blood.
+
+XXXV. "No more with arms, for peace with vows and prayer
+    We sue, and pardon of these powers implore,
+    Or be they goddesses or birds of air
+    Obscene and dire; and lifting on the shore
+    His hands, Anchises doth the gods adore.
+    'O Heaven!' he cries, 'avert these threats; be kind
+    And stay the curse, and vex with plagues no more
+    A pious folk,' then bids the crews unbind
+The stern-ropes, loose the sheets and spread them to the wind.
+
+XXXVI. "The South-wind fills the canvas; on we fly
+    Where breeze and pilot drive us through the deep.
+    Soon, crowned with woods, Zacynthos we espy,
+    Dulichium, Same and the rock-bound steep
+    Of Neritos. Past Ithaca we creep,
+    Laertes' realms, and curse the land that bred
+    Ulysses, cause of all the woes we weep.
+    Soon, where Leucate lifts her cloud-capt head,
+Looms forth Apollo's fane, the seaman's name of dread.
+
+XXXVII. "Tired out we seek the little town, and run
+    The sterns ashore and anchor in the bay,
+    Saved beyond hope and glad the land is won,
+    And lustral rites, with blazing altars, pay
+    To Jove, and make the shores of Actium gay
+    With Ilian games, as, like our sires, we strip
+    And oil our sinews for the wrestler's play.
+    Proud, thus escaping from the foemen's grip,
+Past all the Argive towns, through swarming Greeks, to slip.
+
+XXXVIII. "Meanwhile the sun rolls round the mighty year,
+    And wintry North-winds vex the waves once more.
+    In front, above the temple-gates I rear
+    The brazen shield which once great Abas bore,
+    And mark the deed in writing on the door,
+    _'AEneas these from conquering Greeks hath ta'en';_
+    Then bid my comrades quit the port and shore,
+    And man the benches. They with rival strain
+And slanting oar-blades sweep the levels of the main.
+
+XXXIX. "Phaeacia's heights with the horizon blend;
+    We skim Epirus, and Chaonia's bay
+    Enter, and to Buthrotum's town ascend.
+    Strange news we hear: A Trojan Greeks obey,
+    Helenus, master of the spouse and sway
+    Of Pyrrhus, and Andromache once more
+    Has yielded to a Trojan lord. Straightway
+    I burn to greet them, and the tale explore,
+And from the harbour haste, and leave the ships and shore.
+
+XL. "Within a grove Andromache that day,
+    Where Simois in fancy flowed again,
+    Her offerings chanced at Hector's grave to pay,
+    A turf-built cenotaph, with altars twain,
+    Source of her tears and sacred to the slain--
+    And called his shade. Distracted with amaze
+    She marked me, as the Trojan arms shone plain.
+    Heat leaves her frame; she stiffens with the gaze,
+She swoons--and scarce at length these faltering words essays:
+
+XLI. "'Real, then, real is thy face, and true
+    Thy tidings? Liv'st thou, child of heavenly seed?
+    If dead, then where is Hector?' Tears ensue,
+    And wailing, shrill as though her heart would bleed.
+    Then I, with stammering accents, intercede,
+    And, sore perplext, these broken words outthrow
+    To calm her transport, 'Yea, alive, indeed,--
+    Alive through all extremities of woe.
+Doubt not, thou see'st the truth, no shape of empty show.
+
+XLII. "'Alas! what lot is thine? What worthy fate
+    Hath caught thee, fallen from a spouse so high?
+    Hector's Andromache, art thou the mate
+    Of Pyrrhus?' Then with lowly downcast eye
+    She dropped her voice, and softly made reply.
+    'Ah! happy maid of Priam, doomed instead
+    At Troy upon a foeman's tomb to die!
+    Not drawn by lot for servitude, nor led
+A captive thrall, like me, to grace a conqueror's bed.
+
+XLIII. "'I, torn from burning Troy o'er many a wave,
+    Endured the lust of Pyrrhus and his pride,
+    And knew a mother's travail as his slave.
+    Fired with Hermione, a Spartan bride,
+    Me, joined in bed and bondage, he allied
+    To Helenus. But mad with love's despair,
+    And stung with Furies for his spouse denied,
+    At length Orestes caught the wretch unware,
+E'en by his father's shrine, and smote him then and there.
+
+XLIV. "'The tyrant dead, a portion of his reign
+    Devolves on Helenus, who Chaonia calls
+    From Trojan Chaon the Chaonian plain,
+    And on these heights rebuilds the Trojan walls.
+    But thou--what chance, or god, or stormy squalls
+    Have driven thee here unweeting?--and the boy
+    Ascanius--lives he, or what hap befalls
+    His parents' darling, and their only joy?
+Breathes he the vital air, whom unto thee now Troy--
+
+XLV. "'Still grieves he for his mother? Doth the name
+    Of sire or uncle make his young heart glow
+    For deeds of valour and ancestral fame?'
+    Weeping she spake, with unavailing woe,
+    And poured her sorrow to the winds, when lo,
+    In sight comes Helenus, with fair array,
+    And hails his friends, and hastening to bestow
+    Glad welcome, toward his palace leads the way;
+But tears and broken words his mingled thoughts betray.
+
+XLVI. "I see another but a tinier Troy,
+    A seeming Pergama recalls the great.
+    A dried-up Xanthus I salute with joy,
+    And clasp the portals of a Scaean gate.
+    Nor less kind welcome doth the rest await.
+    The monarch, mindful of his sire of old,
+    Receives the Teucrians in his courts of state.
+    They in the hall, the viands piled on gold,
+Pledging the God of wine, their brimming cups uphold.
+
+XLVII. "One day and now another passed; the gale
+    Sings in the shrouds, and calls us to depart,
+    When thus the prophet Helenus I hail,
+    'Troy-born interpreter of Heaven! whose art
+    The signs of Phoebus' pleasure can impart;
+    Thou know'st the tripod and the Clarian bay,
+    The stars, the voices of the birds, that dart
+    On wings with omens laden, speak and say,--
+Since fate and all the gods foretell a prosperous way.
+
+XLVIII. "'And point to far Italia,--One alone,
+    Celaeno, sings of famine foul and dread,
+    A nameless prodigy, a plague unknown,--
+    What perils first to shun? what path to tread,
+    To win deliverance from such toils?' This said,
+    I ceased, and Helenus with slaughtered kine
+    Implores the god, and from his sacred head
+    Unbinds the wreath, and leads me to the shrine,
+Awed by Apollo's power, and chants the doom divine:
+
+XLIX. "'O Goddess-born, high auspices are thine,
+    And heaven's plain omens guide thee o'er the main.
+    Thus Jove, by lot unfolding his design,
+    Assorts the chances, and the Fates ordain.
+    This much may I of many things explain,
+    How best o'er foreign seas to urge thy keel
+    In safety, and Ausonian ports attain,
+    The rest from Helenus the Fates conceal,
+And Juno's envious power forbids me to reveal.
+
+L.  "'Learn then, Italia, that thou deem'st so near,
+    And thither dream'st of lightly passing o'er,
+    Long leagues divide, and many a pathless mere.
+    First must Trinacrian waters bend the oar,
+    Ausonian waves thy vessels must explore,
+    First must thou view the nether world, where flows
+    Dark Styx, and visit that AEaean shore,
+    The home of Circe, ere, at rest from woes,
+Thou build the promised walls, and win the wished repose.
+
+LI. "'These tokens bear, and in thy memory store.
+    When, musing sad and pensive, thou hast found
+    Beside an oak-fringed river, on the shore,
+    A huge sow thirty-farrowed, and around,
+    Milk-white as she, her litter, mark the ground,
+    That spot shall see thy promised town; for there
+    Thy toils are ended, and thy rest is crowned.
+    Fear not this famine--'tis an empty scare;
+The Fates will find a way, and Phoebus hear thy prayer.
+
+LII. "'As for yon shore and that Italian coast,
+    Washed, where the land lies nearest, by our main,
+    Shun them; their cities hold a hostile host.
+    There Troy's old foes, the evil Argives, reign,
+    Locrians of Narycos her towns contain.
+    There fierce Idomeneus from Crete brought o'er
+    His troops to vex the Sallentinian plain;
+    There, girt with walls and guarded by the power
+Of Philoctetes, stands Petelia's tiny tower.
+
+LIII. "'Nay, when thy vessels, ranged upon her shore,
+    Rest from the deep, and on the beach ye light
+    The votive altars, and the gods adore,
+    Veil then thy locks, with purple hood bedight,
+    And shroud thy visage from a foeman's sight,
+    Lest hostile presence, 'mid the flames divine,
+    Break in, and mar the omen and the rite.
+    This pious use keep sacred, thou and thine,
+The sons of sons unborn, and all the Trojan line.
+
+LIV. "'When, wafted to Sicilia, dawns in sight
+    Pelorus' channel, keep the leftward shore,
+    Though long the circuit, and avoid the right.
+    These lands, 'tis said, one continent of yore
+    (Such change can ages work) an earthquake tore
+    Asunder; in with havoc rushed the main,
+    And far Sicilia from Hesperia bore,
+    And now, where leapt the parted lands in twain,
+The narrow tide pours through, 'twixt severed town and plain.
+
+LV. "'Here Scylla, leftward sits Charybdis fell,
+    Who, yawning thrice, her lowest depths laid bare,
+    Sucks the vast billows in her throat's dark hell,
+    Then starward spouts the refluent surge in air.
+    Here Scylla, gaping from her gloomy lair,
+    The passing vessels on the rocks doth hale;
+    A maiden to the waist, with bosom fair
+    And human face; below, a monstrous whale,
+Down from whose wolf-like womb hangs many a dolphin's tail.
+
+LVI. "'Far better round Pachynus' point to steer,
+    Though long the course, and tedious the delay,
+    Than once dread Scylla to behold, or hear
+    The rocks rebellow with her hell-hounds' bay.
+    This more, besides, I charge thee to obey,
+    If any faith to Helenus be due,
+    Or skill in prophecy the seer display,
+    And mighty Phoebus hath inspired me true,
+These warning words I urge, and oft will urge anew:
+
+LVII. "'Seek Juno first; great Juno's power adore;
+    With suppliant gifts the potent queen constrain,
+    And winds shall waft thee to Italia's shore.
+    There, when at Cumae landing from the main,
+    Avernus' lakes and sounding woods ye gain,
+    Thyself shalt see, within her rock-hewn shrine,
+    The frenzied prophetess, whose mystic strain
+    Expounds the Fates, to leaves of trees consign
+The notes and names that mark the oracles divine.
+
+LVIII. "'Whate'er the maiden on those leaves doth trace,
+    In rows she sorts, and in the cave doth store.
+    There rest they, nor their sequence change, nor place,
+    Save when, by chance, on grating hinge the door
+    Swings open, and a light breath sweeps the floor,
+    Or rougher blasts the tender leaves disperse.
+    Loose then they flutter, for she recks no more
+    To call them back, and rearrange the verse;
+Untaught the votaries leave, the Sibyl's cave to curse.
+
+LIX. "'But linger thou, nor count thy lingering vain,
+    Though comrades chide, and breezes woo the fleet.
+    Approach the prophetess; with prayer unchain
+    Her voice to speak. She shall the tale repeat
+    Of wars in Italy, thy destined seat,--
+    What toils to shun, what dangers to despise,--
+    And make the triumph of thy quest complete.
+    Thou hast whate'er 'tis lawful to advise;
+Go, and with deathless deeds raise Ilion to the skies.'
+
+LX. "So spake the seer, and shipward bids his friends
+    Rich gifts convey, and store them in the hold.
+    Gold, silver plate, carved ivory he sends,
+    With massive caldrons of Dodona's mould;
+    A coat of mail, with triple chain of gold,
+    And shining helm, with cone and flowing crest,
+    The arms of Pyrrhus, glorious to behold.
+    Nor lacks my sire his presents; for the rest
+Steeds, guides and arms he finds, and oarsmen of the best.
+
+LXI. "Then to Anchises, as he bids us spread
+    The sails, with reverence speaks Apollo's seer,
+    'Far-famed Anchises, honoured with the bed
+    Of haughty Venus, Heaven's peculiar care,
+    Twice saved from Troy! behold Ausonia there,
+    Steer towards her coasts, yet skirt them; far away
+    That region lies, which Phoebus doth prepare.
+    Blest in thy son's devotion, take thy way.
+Why should more words of mine the rising South delay?'
+
+LXII. "Nor less Andromache, sore grieved to part,
+    Rich raiment fetches, wrought with golden thread,
+    And Phrygian scarf, and still with bounteous heart
+    Loads him with broideries. 'Take these,' she said,
+    'Sole image of Astyanax now dead.
+    Thy kin's last gifts, my handiwork, to show
+    How Hector's widow loved the son she bred.
+    Such eyes had he, such very looks as thou,
+Such hands, and oh! like thine his age were ripening now!'
+
+LXIII. "With gushing tears I bid the pair farewell.
+    Live happy ye, whose destinies are o'er;
+    We still must wander where the Fates compel.
+    Your rest is won; no oceans to explore,
+    No fair Ausonia's ever-fading shore.
+    Ye still can see a Xanthus and a Troy,
+    Reared by your hands, old Ilion to restore,
+    And brighter auspices than ours enjoy,
+Nor tempt, like ours, the Greeks to ravage and destroy.
+
+LXIV. "'If ever Tiber and the fields I see
+    Washed by her waves, ere mingling with the brine,
+    And build the city which the Fates decree,
+    Then kindred towns and neighbouring folk shall join,
+    Yours in Epirus, in Hesperia mine,
+    And linked thenceforth in sorrow and in joy,
+    With Dardanus the founder of each line,--
+    So let posterity its pains employ,
+Two nations, one in heart, shall make another Troy.'
+
+LXV. "On fly the barks o'er ocean. Near us frown
+    Ceraunia's rocks, whence shortest lies the way
+    To Italy. And now the sun goes down,
+    And darkness gathers on the mountains grey.
+    Close by the water, in a sheltered bay,
+    A few as guardians of the oars we choose,
+    Then stretched at random on the beach we lay
+    Our limbs to rest, and on the toil-worn crews
+Sleep steals in silence down, and sheds her kindly dews.
+
+LXVI. "Nor yet had Night climbed heaven, when up from sleep
+    Starts Palinurus, and with listening ear
+    Catches the breeze. He marks the stars, that keep
+    Their courses, gliding through the silent sphere,
+    Arcturus, rainy Hyads and each Bear,
+    And, girt with gold, Orion. Far away
+    He sees the firmament all calm and clear,
+    And from the stern gives signal. We obey,
+And shifting camp, set sail and tempt the doubtful way.
+
+LXVII. "The stars were chased, and blushing rose the day.
+    Dimly, at distance through the misty shroud
+    Italia's hills and lowlands we survey,
+    'Italia,' first Achates shouts aloud;
+    'Italia,' echoes from the joyful crowd.
+    Then sire Anchises hastened to entwine
+    A massive goblet with a wreath, and vowed
+    Libations to the gods, and poured the wine
+And on the lofty stern invoked the powers divine:
+
+LXVIII. "'Great gods, whom Earth and Sea and Storms obey,
+    Breathe fair, and waft us smoothly o'er the main.'
+    Fresh blows the breeze, and broader grows the bay,
+    And on the cliffs is seen Minerva's fane.
+    We furl the sails, and shoreward row amain.
+    Eastward the harbour arches, scarce descried.
+    Two jutting rocks, by billows lashed in vain,
+    Stretch out their arms the narrow mouth to hide.
+Far back the temple stands, and seems to shun the tide.
+
+LXIX. "Lo, here, first omen offered to our eyes,
+    Four snow-white steeds are grazing on the plain.
+    ''Tis war thou bringest us,' Anchises cries,
+    'Strange land! For war the mettled steed they train,
+    And war these threaten. Yet in time again
+    These beasts are wont in harness to obey,
+    And bear the yoke, as guided by the rein.
+    Peace yet is hopeful.' So our vows we pay
+To Pallas, famed in arms, whose welcome cheered the way.
+
+LXX. "Veiled at her shrines in Phrygian hood we stand,
+    And chief to Juno, mindful of the seer,
+    Burnt-offerings pay, as pious rites demand.
+    This done, the sailyards to the wind we veer,
+    And leave the Grecians and the land of fear.
+    Lo, there Tarentum's harbour and the town,
+    If fame be true, of Hercules, and here
+    Lacinium's queen and Caulon's towers are known,
+And Scylaceum's rocks, with shattered ships bestrown.
+
+LXXI. "Far off is seen, above the billowy mere,
+    Trinacrian AEtna, and the distant roar
+    Of ocean and the beaten rocks we hear,
+    And the loud burst of breakers on the shore;
+    High from the shallows leap the surges hoar,
+    And surf and sand mix eddying. 'Behold
+    Charybdis!' cries Anchises, ''tis the shore,
+    The dreaded rocks that Helenus foretold.
+Row, comrades, for dear life, and let the oars catch hold.'
+
+LXXII. "He spake, 'twas done; and Palinurus first
+    Turns the prow leftward: to the left we ply
+    With oars and sail, and shun the rocks accurst.
+    Now curls the wave, and lifts us to the sky,
+    Now sinks and, plunging in the gulf we lie.
+    Thrice roar the caverned shore-cliffs, thrice the spray
+    Whirls up and wets the dewy stars on high.
+    Thus tired we drift, as sinks the wind and day,
+Unto the Cyclops' shore, all weetless of the way.
+
+LXXIII. "It was a spacious harbour, sheltered deep
+    From access of the winds, but looming vast
+    With awful ravage, AEtna's neighbouring steep
+    Thundered aloud, and, dark with clouds, upcast
+    Smoke and red cinders in a whirlwind's blast.
+    Live balls of flame, with showers of sparks, upflew
+    And licked the stars, and in combustion massed,
+    Torn rocks, her ragged entrails, molten new,
+The rumbling mount belched forth from out the boiling stew.
+
+LXXIV. "Here, while from AEtna's furnaces the flame
+    Bursts forth, Enceladus, 'tis said, doth lie,
+    Scorched by the lightning. As his wearied frame
+    He shifts, Trinacria, trembling at the cry
+    Moans through her shores, and smoke involves the sky.
+    There all night long, screened by the woods, we hear
+    The dreadful sounds, and know not whence nor why,
+    For stars are none, nor planet gilds the sphere;
+Night holds the moon in clouds, and heaven is dark and drear.
+
+LXXV. "Now rose the Day-star from the East, and cleared
+    The mists, that melted with advancing Morn,
+    When suddenly from out the woods appeared
+    An uncouth form, a creature wan and worn,
+    Scarce like a man, in piteous plight forlorn.
+    Suppliant his hands he stretches to the shore;
+    We turn and look on tatters tagged with thorn,
+    Dire squalor and a length of beard,--what more,
+A Greek, to Troy erewhile in native arms sent o'er.
+
+LXXVI. "He scared to see the Dardan garb once more
+    And Trojan arms, stood faltering with dismay,
+    Then rushed, with prayer and weeping, to the shore.
+    'O, by the stars, and by the Gods, I pray,
+    And life's pure breath, this light of genial day,
+    Take me, O Teucrians; wheresoe'er ye go,
+    Enough to bear me from this land away.
+    I once was of the Danaan crews, I know,
+And came to Trojan homes and Ilion as a foe.
+
+LXXVII. "'For that, if that be such a crime to you,
+    O strew me forth upon the watery waste,
+    And drown me in the deep. If death be due,
+    'Twere sweet of death by human hands to taste.'
+    He cried, and, grovelling, our knees embraced,
+    And, clasping, clung to us. We bid him stand
+    And tell his birth and trouble; and in haste
+    Himself the sire Anchises pledged his hand,
+And he at length took heart, and answered our demand.
+
+LXXVIII. "'My name is Achemenides. I come
+    From Ithaca. To Troy I sailed the sea
+    With evil-starred Ulysses, leaving home
+    And father, Adamastus;--poor was he,
+    And O! if such my poverty could be.
+    Me here my thoughtless comrades, hurrying fast
+    To quit the cruel threshold and be free,
+    Leave in the Cyclops' cavern. Dark and vast
+That house of slaughtered men, and many a foul repast.
+
+LXXIX. "'Himself so tall, he strikes the lofty skies
+    (O gods, rid earth of such a monstrous brood!),
+    None dare with speech accost, nor mortal eyes
+    Behold him. Human entrails are his food.
+    Myself have seen him, gorged with brains and blood,
+    Pluck forth two comrades, in his cave bent back,
+    And dash them till the threshold swam with blood,
+    Then crunch the gobbets in his teeth, while black
+With gore the limbs still quivered, and the bones did crack:
+
+LXXX. "'Not unavenged; nor brave Ulysses deigned
+    To brook such outrage. In that hour of tyne
+    True to himself the Ithacan remained.
+    When, gorged with food, and belching gore and wine,
+    With drooping neck, the giant snored supine,
+    Then, closing round him, to the gods we pray,
+    Each at his station, as the lots assign,
+    And where, beneath the frowning forehead, lay,
+Huge as an Argive shield, or like the lamp of day,
+
+LXXXI. "'His one great orb, deep in the monster's head
+    We drive the pointed weapon, joy'd at last
+    To wreak such vengeance for our comrades dead.
+    But fly, unhappy Trojans, fly, and cast
+    Your cables from the shore. Such and so vast
+    As Polyphemus, when the cave's huge door
+    Shuts on his flocks, and for his night's repast
+    He milks them, lo! a hundred Cyclops more
+Roam on the lofty hills, and range the winding shore.
+
+LXXXII. "'Now thrice the Moon hath filled her horns with light,
+    And still in woods and lonely dens I lie,
+    And see the Cyclops stalk from height to height,
+    And hear their tramp, and tremble at their cry.
+    My food--hard berries that the boughs supply,
+    And roots of grass. Thus wandering, as I scanned
+    The distant ocean with despairing eye,
+    I saw your ships first bearing to the land,
+And vowed, whoe'er ye proved, the strangers' slave to stand.
+
+LXXXIII. "'Enough, these monsters to escape; O take
+    My life, and tear me as you will from day,
+    Rather than these devour me!'--Scarce he spake,
+    When from the mountains to the well-known bay,
+    The shepherd Polyphemus gropes his way;
+    Huge, hideous, horrible in shape and show,
+    And visionless. A pine-trunk serves to stay
+    And guide his footsteps, and around him go
+The sheep, his only joy and solace of his woe.
+
+LXXXIV. "Down came the giant, wading in the main,
+    And rinsed his gory socket from the tide,
+    Gnashing his teeth and moaning in his pain.
+    On through the deep he stalks with awful stride,
+    So tall, the billows scarcely wet his side.
+    Forthwith our flight we hasten, prickt with fear,
+    On board--'twas due--we let the suppliant hide,
+    Then, mute and breathless, cut the stern-ropes clear,
+Bend to the emulous oar, and sweep the whitening mere.
+
+LXXXV. "He heard, and turned his footsteps to the sound.
+    Short of its mark the huge arm idly fell
+    Outstretched, and swifter than his stride he found
+    The Ionian waves. Then rose a monstrous yell;
+    All Ocean shudders and her waves upswell;
+    Far off, Italia trembles with the roar,
+    And AEtna groans through many a winding cell,
+    And trooping to the call the Cyclops pour
+From wood and lofty hill, and crowding fill the shore.
+
+LXXXVI. "We see them scowling impotent, the band
+    Of AEtna, towering to the stars above,
+    An awful conclave! Tall as oaks they stand,
+    Or cypresses--the lofty trees of Jove,
+    Or cone-clad guardians of Diana's grove.
+    Fain were we then, in agony of fear,
+    To shake the canvas to the winds, and rove
+    At random; natheless, we obey the seer,
+Who past those fatal rocks had warned us not to steer,
+
+LXXXVII. "Where Scylla here, and there Charybdis lies,
+    And death lurks double. Backward we essay
+    Our course, when lo, from out Pelorus flies
+    The North-Wind, sent to waft us on our way.
+    We pass the place where, mingling with the spray,
+    Through narrow rocks Pantagia's stream outflows;
+    We see low-lying Thapsus and the bay
+    Of Megara. These shores the suppliant shows,
+Known from the time he shared his wandering chieftain's woes.
+
+LXXXVIII. "Far-stretcht against Plemmyrium's wave-beat shore
+    An island lies, before Sicania's bay,
+    Now called Ortygia--'twas its name of yore.
+    Hither from distant Elis, legends say,
+    Beneath the seas Alpheus stole his way,
+    And, mingling now with Arethusa here,
+    Mounts, a Sicilian fountain, to the day.
+    Here we with prayer, obedient to the seer,
+Invoke the guardian gods to whom the place is dear.
+
+LXXXIX. "Thence past Helorus' marish speeds the bark,
+    Where fat and fruitful shines the meadowy lea.
+    We graze the cliffs and jutting rocks, that mark
+    Pachynus. Camarina's fen we see,
+    Fixt there for ever by the fates' decree;
+    Then Gela's town (the river gave the name)
+    And Gela's plains, far-stretching from the sea,
+    And distant towers and lofty walls proclaim
+Steep Acragas, once known for generous steeds of fame.
+
+XC. "Thee too we pass, borne onward by the wind,
+    Palmy Selinus, and the treacherous strand
+    And shoals of Lilybaeum leave behind.
+    Last, by the shore at Drepanum we stand
+    And take the shelter of her joyless land,
+    Here, tost so long o'er many a storm-lashed main,
+    We lose the stay and comfort of our band,
+    Here thou, best father, leav'st me to my pain,
+Thou, saved from countless risks, but saved, alas, in vain.
+
+XCI. "Not Helenus, who many an ill forecast,
+    Warned us to think such sorrow was in store,
+    Not even dire Celaeno. There at last
+    My wanderings ended, and my toils were o'er,
+    And thence a God hath led me to your shore."
+    Thus, while mute wonder did the rest compose,
+    The Sire AEneas did his tale outpour,
+    And told his fates, his wanderings and his woes;
+Then ceased at length his speech, and sought the wished repose.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK FOUR
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+Dido opens her heart to her sister. But for her promised loyalty to
+the dead Sychaeus, she must have yielded (1-36). Anna pleads for
+AEneas, and Dido half-yielding sacrifices to the marriage-gods. The
+growth of her passion is described (37-104). Venus feigns assent to
+Juno's proposal that AEneas shall marry Dido and be king of Carthage.
+At a hunting Juno will send a storm and the lovers will shelter in
+a cave, and there plight their vows (105-144). The plot is
+consummated. Dido yields (145-198). Description of Rumour, who
+bruits abroad the story and rouses the jealous Iarbas to conjure his
+father, Jupiter, to interpose (199-248). Jupiter sends Mercury to
+remind AEneas of his mission (249-298). AEneas, terrified by the
+message, prepares for instant flight, to the delight of his followers
+and the despair of Dido (299-342), who entreats him to stay, and
+rehearses the dangers to which he is leaving her (343-374). AEneas
+is obdurate. Although he loves Dido, he is the slave of a destiny
+which he must at all costs fulfil (375-410). After calling down a
+solemn curse upon him Dido swoons, but crushing the impulse to
+comfort her, he hastens his preparations for departure (411-468).
+Dido sends Anna with a last appeal to AEneas, who nevertheless, in
+spite of struggles, obeys the gods (469-513). In utter misery Dido,
+on pretext of burning all AEneas' love-gifts, prepares a pyre and
+summons a sorceress. Her preparations complete, she utters her last
+lament (514-639). Mercury repeats his warning to AEneas, who sails
+forthwith (640-671). Daybreak reveals his flight, and Dido--cursing
+her betrayer--falls by her own hand, to the despair of her sister
+and the consternation of her subjects (672-837).
+
+
+I.  Long since a prey to passion's torturing pains,
+    The Queen was wasting with the secret flame,
+    The cruel wound was feeding on her veins.
+    Back to the fancy of the lovelorn dame
+    Came the chief's valour and his country's fame.
+    His looks, his words still lingered in her breast,
+    Deep-fixt. And now the dewy Dawn upcame,
+    And chased the shadows, when her love's unrest
+Thus to her sister's soul responsive she confessed:
+
+II. "What dreams, dear Anna, fill me with alarms;
+    What stranger guest is this? like whom in face?
+    How proud in portance, how expert in arms!
+    In sooth I deem him of celestial race;
+    Fear argues souls degenerate and base;
+    But he--how oft by danger sore bestead,
+    What warlike exploits did his lips retrace.
+    Were not my purpose steadfast, ne'er to wed,
+Since love first played me false, and mocked me with the dead,
+
+III. "Were I not sick of bridal torch and bower,
+    This once, perchance, I had been frail again.
+    Anna--for I will own it--since the hour
+    When, poor Sychaeus miserably slain,
+    A brother's murder rent a home in twain,
+    He, he alone my stubborn will could tame,
+    And stir the balance of my soul. Too plain
+    I know the traces of the long-quenched flame;
+The sparks of love revive, rekindled, but the same.
+
+IV. "But O! gape Earth, or may the Sire of might
+    Hurl me with lightning to the Shades amain,
+    Pale shades of Erebus and abysmal Night,
+    Ere, wifely modesty, thy name I stain,
+    Or dare thy sacred precepts to profane.
+    Nay, he whose love first linked us long ago,
+    Took all my love, and he shall still retain
+    And guard it with him in the grave below."
+She spake, and o'er her lap the gushing tears outflow.
+
+V.  Then Anna: "Sister, dearer than the day,
+    Why thus in loneliness and endless woe
+    Wilt thou for ever wear thy youth away?
+    Nor care sweet sons, fair Venus' gifts to know?
+    Think'st thou such grief concerns the shades below?
+    What though no husband, Libyan or of Tyre,
+    Could bend a heart made desolate; what though
+    In vain Iarbas did thy love desire,
+And Africa's proud chiefs, why quench a pleasing fire?
+
+VI. "Think too, whose lands surround thee: on this side,
+    Gaetulian cities, an unconquered race,
+    Numidians, reinless as the steeds they ride,
+    And cheerless Syrtis hold thee in embrace;
+    There fierce Barcaeans and a sandy space
+    Wasted by drought. Why tell of wars from Tyre,
+    A brother's threats? Well know I Juno's grace
+    And heaven's propitious auspices conspire
+To find for Trojans here the home of their desire.
+
+VII. "Sister, how glorious even now these towers,
+    What realm shall rise, with such a wondrous pair
+    When Teucrian arms join fellowship with ours,
+    What glory shall the Punic state upbear!
+    Pray thou to heaven and, having gained thy prayer,
+    Indulge thy welcome, and thy guest entreat
+    To tarry. Bid him winter's storms beware;
+    Point to Orion's watery star, the fleet
+Still shattered, and the skies for mariners unmeet."
+
+VIII. So fanned, her passion kindled into flame:
+    Hope scattered scruples, and her doubts gave way,
+    And loosed were all the lingering ties of shame.
+    First to the fane the sisters haste away,
+    And there for peace at every shrine they pray,
+    And chosen ewes, as ancient rites ordain,
+    To Sire Lyaeus, to the God of Day,
+    And Ceres, giver of the law, are slain,
+And most to Juno's power, who guards the nuptial chain.
+
+IX. Herself, the lovely Dido, bowl in hand,
+    O'er a white heifer's forehead pours the wine,
+    Or by the Gods' rich altars takes her stand,
+    And piles the gifts, and o'er the slaughtered kine
+    Pores, from the quivering heartstrings to divine
+    The doom of Fate. Blind seers, alas! what art
+    To calm her frenzy, now hath vow or shrine?
+    Deep in her marrow feeds the tender smart,
+Unseen, the silent wound is festering in her heart.
+
+X.  Poor Dido burns, and roams from street to street,
+    Wild as a doe, whom heedless, far away,
+    Some swain hath pierced amid the woods of Crete,
+    And left, unware, the flying steel to stay,
+    While through the forests and the lawns his prey
+    Roams, with the death-bolt clinging to her side.
+    Now to AEneas doth the queen display
+    Her walls and wealth, the dowry of his bride;
+Oft she essays to speak, so oft the utterance died.
+
+XI. Again, when evening steals upon the light,
+    She seeks the feast, again would fain give ear
+    To Troy's sad tale and, ravished with delight,
+    Hangs on his lips; and when the hall is clear,
+    And the moon sinks, and drowsy stars appear,
+    Alone she mourns, clings to the couch he pressed,
+    Him absent sees, his absent voice doth hear,
+    Now, fain to cheat her utter love's unrest,
+Clasps for his sire's sweet sake Ascanius to her breast.
+
+XII. No longer rise the growing towers, nor care
+    The youths in martial exercise to vie,
+    Nor ports nor bulwarks for defence prepare.
+    The frowning battlements neglected lie,
+    And lofty scaffolding that threats the sky.
+    Her, when Saturnian Juno saw possessed
+    With love so tameless, as would dare defy
+    The shame that whispers in a woman's breast,
+Forthwith the queen of Jove fair Venus thus addressed:
+
+XIII. "Fine spoils, forsooth, proud triumph ye have won,
+    Thou and thy boy,--vast worship and renown!
+    Two gods by fraud one woman have undone.
+    But well I know ye fear the rising town,
+    The homes of Carthage offered for your own.
+    When shall this end? or why a feud so dire?
+    Let lasting peace and plighted wedlock crown
+    The compact. See, thou hast thy heart's desire,
+Poor Dido burns with love, her blood is turned to fire.
+
+XIV. "Come then and rule we, each with equal power,
+    These folks as one. Let Tyrian Dido bear
+    A Phrygian's yoke, and Tyrians be her dower."
+    Then Venus, for she marked the Libyan snare
+    To snatch Italia's lordship, "Who would care
+    To spurn such offer, or with thee contend,
+    Should fortune follow on a scheme so fair?
+    'Tis Fate, I doubt, if Jupiter intend
+The sons of Tyre and Troy in common league to blend.
+
+XV. "Thou art his consort; 'tis thy right to learn
+    By prayer the counsels of his breast. Lead thou,
+    I follow." Quickly Juno made return:
+    "Be mine that task. Now briefly will I show
+    What means our purpose shall achieve, and how.
+    Soon as to-morrow's rising sun is seen,
+    And Titan's rays unveil the world below,
+    Forth ride AEneas and the love-sick Queen,
+With followers to the chase, to scour the woodland green.
+
+XVI. "While busy beaters round the lawns prepare
+    Their feathered nets, thick sleet-storms will I shower
+    And rend all heaven with thunder. Here and there
+    The rest shall fly, and in the darkness cower.
+    One cave shall screen both lovers in that hour.
+    There will I be, if thou approve, meanwhile
+    And make her his in wedlock. Hymen's power
+    Shall seal the rite."--Not adverse, with a smile
+Sweet Venus nods assent, and gladdens at the guile.
+
+XVII. Meanwhile Aurora o'er the deep appears.
+    At daybreak, issuing from the gates is seen
+    A chosen train, with nets and steel-tipt spears
+    And wide-meshed toils; and sleuth-hounds, staunch and keen,
+    Mixed with Massylian riders, scour the green.
+    Each on his charger, by the doorway sit
+    The princes, waiting for the lingering Queen.
+    Her steed, with gold and purple housings fit,
+Impatient paws the ground, and champs the foaming bit.
+
+XVIII. Now forth at length, with numbers in her train,
+    She comes in state, majestic to behold,
+    Wrapped in a purpled scarf of Tyrian grain.
+    All golden is her quiver; knots of gold
+    Confine her hair; a golden clasp doth hold
+    Her purple cloak. Behind her throng amain
+    The Trojans, with Iulus, blithe and bold,
+    And good AEneas, with the rest, as fain,
+Joins in, and steps along, the comeliest of the train.
+
+XIX. As when from wintry Lycia and the shore
+    Of Xanthus, to his mother's Delian seat
+    Apollo comes, the dances to restore.
+    Around his shrines Dryopians, sons of Crete,
+    And tattooed Agathyrsians shouting meet.
+    He, on high Cynthus moving, binds around
+    His flowing locks the foliage soft and sweet,
+    And braids with gold: his arms behind him sound,
+So firm AEneas strode, such grace his features crowned.
+
+XX. The hill-tops and the pathless lairs they gain.
+    Lo! from the rocks dislodged, the goats in fear
+    Bound o'er the crags. In dust-clouds o'er the plain
+    Down from the mountains rush the frightened deer.
+    On mettled steed the boy, in wild career,
+    Outrides them, glorying in the chase. No more
+    He heeds such timid prey, but longs to hear
+    The tawny lion, issuing with a roar
+Forth from the lofty hills, and front the foaming boar.
+
+XXI. Meanwhile deep mutterings vex the louring sky,
+    And, mixt with hail, in torrents comes the rain.
+    Scar'd, o'er the fields to diverse shelter fly
+    Troy's sons, Ascanius, and the Tyrian train.
+    Down from the hills the deluge pours amain.
+    One cave protects the pair. Earth gives the sign,
+    With Juno, mistress of the nuptial chain.
+    And heaven bears witness, and the lightnings shine,
+And from the crags above shriek out the Nymphs divine.
+
+XXII. Dark day of fate, and dismal hour of sin!
+    Then first disaster did the gods ordain,
+    And death and woe were destined to begin.
+    Nor shame nor scandal now the Queen restrain,
+    No more she meditates to hide the stain,
+    No longer chooses to conceal her flame.
+    Marriage she calls it, but the fraud is plain,
+    And pretexts weaves, and with a specious name
+Attempts to veil her guilt, and sanctify her shame.
+
+XXIII. Fame with the news through Libya's cities hies,
+    Fame, far the swiftest of all mischiefs bred;
+    Speed gives her force; she strengthens as she flies.
+    Small first through fear, she lifts a loftier head,
+    Her forehead in the clouds, on earth her tread.
+    Last sister of Enceladus, whom Earth
+    Brought forth, in anger with the gods, 'tis said,
+    Swift-winged, swift-footed, of enormous girth,
+Huge, horrible, deformed, a giantess from birth.
+
+XXIV. As many feathers as her form surround,
+    Strange sight! peep forth so many watchful eyes,
+    So many mouths and tattling tongues resound,
+    So many ears among the plumes uprise.
+    By night with shrieks 'twixt heaven and earth she flies,
+    Nor suffers sleep her eyelids to subdue;
+    By day, the terror of great towns, she spies
+    From towers and housetops, perched aloft in view,
+Fond of the false and foul, yet herald of the true.
+
+XXV. So now, exulting, with a mingled hum
+    Of truth and falsehood, through the crowd she sped;
+    How one AEneas hath from Ilion come,
+    A Dardan guest, whom Dido deigns to wed.
+    Now, lapt in dalliance and with ease o'erfed,
+    All winter long they revel in their shame,
+    Lost to their kingdoms. Such the tale she spread;
+    And straight the demon to Iarbas came,
+And wrath on wrath upheaped, and fanned his soul to flame.
+
+XXVI. Born of a nymph, by Ammon's forced embrace,
+    A hundred temples and in each a shrine
+    He built to Jove, the father of his race,
+    And lit the sacred fires, that sleepless shine,
+    The Gods' eternal watches. Slaughtered kine
+    Smoke on the teeming pavement, garlands fair
+    Of various hues the stately porch entwine.
+    Stung by the bitter tidings, in despair
+Before the gods he kneels, and pours a suppliant's prayer.
+
+XXVII. "Great Jove, to whom our Moorish tribes, reclined
+    On broidered couch, the votive wine-cup drain,
+    See'st thou or, Father, are thy bolts but blind,
+    Mere noise thy thunder, and thy lightnings vain?
+    This woman here, who, wandering on the main,
+    Bought leave to build and govern as her own
+    Her puny town, and till the sandy plain,
+    Our proffered love hath ventured to disown,
+And takes a Trojan lord, AEneas, to her throne.
+
+XXVIII. "And now that Paris, tricked in Lydian guise,
+    With perfumed locks and bonnet, and his crew
+    Of men half-women, gloats upon the prize,
+    While vainly at thy so-called shrines we sue,
+    And nurse a faith as empty as untrue."
+    He prayed and clasped the altar. His request
+    Jove heard, and to the city bent his view,
+    And saw the guilty lovers, lapt in rest
+And lost to shame, and thus Cyllenius he addressed:
+
+XXIX. "Go, son, the Zephyrs call, and wing thy flight
+    To Carthage. Call the Dardan chief away,
+    Who, deaf to Fate, his destined walls doth slight.
+    This mandate through the wafting air convey,
+    Not such fair Venus did her son pourtray,
+    Nor twice for _this_ from Grecian swords reclaim
+    One born to rule Italia, big with sway
+    And fierce for war, and spread the Teucrian name
+Through Teucer's sons, and laws to conquered earth proclaim.
+
+XXX. "If glory cannot tempt him, nor inflame
+    His soul to win such greatness, if indeed
+    He takes no trouble for his own fair fame,
+    Shall he, a father, envy to his seed
+    The towers of Rome, by destiny decreed?
+    What schemes he now? what hope the chief constrains
+    To linger 'mid a hostile race, nor heed
+    Ausonia's sons and the Lavinian plains?
+Go, bid him sail; enough; that word the sum contains."
+
+XXXI. Jove spake. Cyllenius to his feet binds fast
+    His golden sandals, that aloft in flight
+    O'er sea and shore upbear him with the blast,
+    Then takes his rod--the rod of mystic might,
+    That calls from Hell or plunges into night
+    The pallid ghosts, gives sleep or bids it fly,
+    And lifts the dead man's eyelids to the light.
+    Armed with that rod, he rules the clouds on high,
+And drives the scattered gales, and sails the stormy sky.
+
+XXXII. Now, borne along, beneath him he espies
+    The sides precipitous and towering peak
+    Of rugged Atlas, who upholds the skies.
+    Round his pine-covered forehead, wild and bleak,
+    The dark clouds settle and the storm-winds shriek.
+    His shoulders glisten with the mantling snow,
+    Dark roll the torrents down his aged cheek,
+    Seamed with the wintry ravage, and below,
+Stiff with the gathered ice his hoary beard doth show.
+
+XXXIII. Poised on his wings, here first Cyllenius stood,
+    Then downward shot, and in the salt sea spray
+    Dipped like a sea-gull, who, in quest of food,
+    Searches the teeming shore-cliffs for his prey,
+    And scours the rocks and skims along the bay.
+    So swiftly now, between the earth and skies,
+    Leaving his mother's sire, his airy way
+    Cyllene's god on cleaving pinions plies,
+As o'er the Libyan sands along the wind he flies.
+
+XXXIV. Scarce now at Carthage had he stayed his feet,
+    Among the huts AEneas he espied,
+    Planning new towers and many a stately street.
+    A sword-hilt, starred with jasper, graced his side,
+    A scarf, gold-broidered by the queen, and dyed
+    With Tyrian hues, was o'er his shoulders thrown.
+    "What, thou--wilt thou build Carthage?" Hermes cried,
+    "And stay to beautify thy lady's town,
+And dote on Tyrian realms, and disregard thine own?
+
+XXXV. "Himself, the Sire, who rules the earth and skies,
+    Sends me from heaven his mandate to proclaim.
+    What scheme is thine? what hope allures thine eyes,
+    To loiter thus in Libya? If such fame
+    Nowise can move thee, nor thy soul inflame,
+    If loth to labour for thine own renown,
+    Think of thy young Ascanius; see with shame
+    His rising promise, scarce to manhood grown,
+Hope of the Roman race, and heir of Latium's throne."
+
+XXXVI. He spake and, speaking, vanished into air.
+    Dumb stood AEneas, by the sight unmann'd:
+    Fear stifled speech and stiffened all his hair.
+    Fain would he fly, and quit the tempting land,
+    Surprised and startled by the god's command.
+    Ah! what to do? what opening can he find
+    To break the news, the infuriate Queen withstand?
+    This way and that dividing his swift mind,
+All means in turns he tries, and wavers like the wind.
+
+XXXVII. This plan prevails; he bids a chosen few
+    Collect the crews in silence, arm the fleet
+    And hide the purport of these counsels new,
+    Himself, since Dido dreams not of deceit,
+    Nor thinks such passion can be frail or fleet,
+    Some avenue of access will essay,
+    Some tender moment for soft speeches meet,
+    And wit shall find, and cunning smooth the way.
+With joy the captains hear, and hasten to obey.
+
+XXXVIII. But Dido--who can cheat a lover's care?
+    Could guess the fraud, the coming change descry,
+    And in the midst of safety feared a snare.
+    Now wicked Fame hath bid the rumour fly
+    Of mustering crews. Poor Dido, crazed thereby,
+    Raves like a Thyiad, when the frenzied rout
+    With orgies hurry to Cithaeron high,
+    And "Bacchus! Bacchus" through the night they shout.
+At length the chief she finds, and thus her wrath breaks out:
+
+XXXIX. "Thought'st thou to steal in silence from the land,
+    False wretch! and cloak such treason with a lie?
+    Can neither love, nor this my plighted hand,
+    Nor dying Dido keep thee? Must thou fly,
+    When North-winds howl, and wintry waves are high?
+    O cruel! what if home before thee lay,
+    Not lands unknown, beneath an alien sky,
+    If Troy were standing, as in ancient day,
+Would'st thou for Troy's own sake this angry deep essay?
+
+XL. "_Me_ dost thou fly? O, by these tears, thy hand
+    Late pledged, since madness leaves me naught beside,
+    But lovers' vows and wedlock's sacred band,
+    Scarce knit and now too soon to be untied;
+    If aught were pleasing in a new-won bride,
+    If sweet the memory of our marriage day,
+    O by these prayers--if place for prayer abide--
+    In mercy put that cruel mind away.
+Pity a falling house, now hastening to decay.
+
+XLI. "For thee the Libyans and each Nomad lord
+    Hate me, and Tyrians would their queen disown.
+    My wifely honour is a name abhorred,
+    And that chaste fame has perished, which alone
+    Perchance had raised me to a starry throne.
+    O think with whom thou leav'st me to thy fate,
+    Dear guest, no longer as a husband known.
+    Why stay I? till Pygmalion waste my state,
+Or on Iarbas' wheels, a captive queen, to wait?
+
+XLII. "Ah! if at least, ere thou had'st sailed away,
+    Some babe, the token of thy love, were born,
+    Some child AEneas, in my halls to play,
+    Like thee at least in look, I should not mourn
+    As altogether captive and forlorn."
+    She paused, but he, at Jove's command, his eyes
+    Keeps still unmoved, and, though with anguish torn,
+    Strives with his love, nor suffers it to rise,
+But checks his heaving heart, and thus at length replies:
+
+XLIII. "Never, dear Queen, will I disown the debt,
+    Thy love's deserts, too countless to repeat,
+    Nor ever fair Elissa's name forget,
+    While memory shall last, or pulses beat.
+    Few words are mine, for fewest words are meet.
+    Think not I meant--the very thought were shame--
+    Thief-like to veil my going with deceit.
+    I gave no promise of a husband's name,
+Nor talked of ties like that, or wedlock's sacred flame.
+
+XLIV. "Did Fate but let me shape my life at will,
+    And rest at pleasure, Ilion, first of all,
+    And Troy's sweet relics would I cling to still,
+    And Pergama and Priam's stately hall
+    Once more should cheer the vanquished for their fall.
+    But now Grynoean Phoebus bids me fare
+    To great Italia; to Italia call
+    The Lycian lots, and so the Fates declare.
+There lies the land I love, my destined home is there.
+
+XLV. "If thee, Tyre-born, a Libyan town detain,
+    What grudge to Troy Ausonia's land denies?
+    We too may seek a foreign realm to gain.
+    Me, oft as Night's damp shadows from the skies
+    Have shrouded Earth, and fiery stars arise,
+    My sire Anchises' troubled ghost in sleep
+    Upbraids and scares, and ever louder cries
+    The wrong, that on Ascanius' head I heap,
+Whom from Hesperia's plains, his destined realms, I keep.
+
+XLVI. "Now, too, Jove's messenger himself comes down--
+    Bear witness both--I heard the voice divine,
+    I saw the God just entering the town.
+    Cease then to vex me, nor thyself repine.
+    Heaven's will to Latium summons me, not mine."
+    Him, speaking thus and pleading but in vain,
+    She viewed askance, rolling her restless eyne,
+    Then scanned him o'er, long silent, in disdain,
+And thus at length broke out, and gave her wrath the rein.
+
+XLVII. "False traitor! Goddess never gave thee birth,
+    Nor of thy race was Dardanus the first.
+    Thy limbs were fashioned in the womb of Earth,
+    The rugged rocks of Caucasus accurst.
+    Hyrcanian tigresses thy childhood nursed.
+    Why fawn and feign? what more have I to fear,
+    What more to wait for, having known the worst?
+    Moved he those eyes? dropped he a single tear
+Sighed he with me, or spake a lover's heart to cheer?
+
+XLVIII. "What first? what last? Nor Juno, nay, nor Jove
+    With equal eyes beholds the wrongs I bear.
+    Faithless is earth, and false is Heaven above.
+    I took him in, an outcast, and bade spare,
+    His ships and wandering comrades, let him share
+    My home, and made him partner of my reign.
+    Ah me! the Furies drive me to despair.
+    Now Phoebus calls him, now the Lycian fane,
+Now Jove's own herald brings the dreadful news too plain:
+
+XLIX. "Fit task for Gods; such cares disturb their ease.
+    I care not to confute thee nor delay.
+    Go, seek thy Latin lordship o'er the seas.
+    May Heaven--if Heaven be righteous--make thee pay
+    Thy forfeit, left on ocean's rocks to pray
+    For help to Dido. There shall Dido go
+    With sulphurous flames, and vex thee far away.
+    My ghost in death shall haunt thee. I shall know
+Thy punishment, false wretch, and hail the news below."
+
+L.  Abrupt she ceased and, sickening with despair,
+    Turns from his gaze, and shuns the light of day,
+    And leaves the Dardan, faltering in his fear,
+    And thinking of a thousand things to say.
+    Back to her marble couch the maids convey
+    The fainting Queen. The pious Prince, though fain
+    With gentle words her anguish to ally,
+    Sighing full sore, and racked with inward pain,
+Bows to the God's behest, and hastens to the main.
+
+LI. Stirred by his presence, at their chief's command,
+    The Trojan mariners, with might and main,
+    Bend to the work. Along the shelving strand
+    They launch tall ships that long had idle lain.
+    The tarred keel joys the waters to regain.
+    Timbers unshaped and many a green-leaved oar
+    They fetch from out the forest, glad and fain
+    To speed their flight, and hurrying to the shore
+Forth from the town-gates fast the mustering Trojans pour.
+
+LII. As ants that, mindful of the cold to come,
+    Lay waste a mighty heap of garnered grain,
+    And store the golden treasure in their home:
+    Back through the grass, with plunder, o'er the plain
+    In narrow column troops the sable train:
+    Their tiny shoulders heave, with restless moil,
+    The cumbrous atomies; these scourge amain
+    The loiterers in the rear, and guard the spoil.
+Hot fares the busy work; the pathway glows with toil.
+
+LIII. What, hapless Dido, were thy feelings then?
+    What groans were thine, from out thy tower to view
+    The ships prepared, the shores astir with men,
+    The turmoil'd deep, the shouting of each crew!
+    O tyrant love, so potent to subdue!
+    Again, perforce, she weeps for him; again
+    She stoops to try persuasion, and to sue,
+    And yields, a suppliant, to her love's sweet pain,
+Lest aught remain untried, and Dido die in vain.
+
+LIV. "Look yonder, look, dear Anna! all around
+    They crowd the shore their canvas wooes the wind!
+    Behold the poops with festal garlands crown'd.
+    If I could bear this prospect, I shall find
+    Strength still to suffer, and a soul resign'd.
+    One boon I ask--O pity my distress--
+    For thee alone he tells his inmost mind,
+    To thee alone unperjur'd; thou can'st guess
+The means of soft approach, the seasons of address;
+
+LV. "Go, sister, meekly tell the haughty foe,
+    Not I at Aulis with the Greeks did swear
+    To smite the Trojans and their towers o'erthrow,
+    Nor sought his father's ashes to uptear.
+    Whom shuns he? wherefore would he spurn my prayer?
+    Beg him, in pity of poor love, to stay
+    Till flight is easy, and the winds breathe fair.
+    Not now for wedlock's broken vows I pray,
+Nor bid him lose for me fair Latium and his sway.
+
+LVI. "I ask but time--a respite and reprieve--
+    A little truce, my passion to allay,
+    Till fortune teach my baffled love to grieve.
+    Grant, sister, this, the latest grace I pray,
+    And Death with interest shall the debt repay."
+    She spake; sad Anna to the Dardan bears
+    Her piteous plea. But Fate hath barred the way:
+    Deaf stands AEneas to her prayers and tears:
+Jove, unrelenting Jove, hath stopped his gentle ears.
+
+LVII. E'en as when Northern Alpine blasts contend
+    This side and that to lay an oak-tree low,
+    Aged but strong: the branches creak and bend,
+    And leaves thick-falling all the ground bestrow:
+    The trunk clings firmly to the rock below:
+    High as it rears its weather-beaten crest,
+    So dive its roots to Tartarus. Even so
+    Beset with prayers, the hero stands distrest;
+So vain are Anna's tears, so moveless is his breast.
+
+LVIII. Then--then unhappy Dido prays to die,
+    Maddened by Fate, aweary of the day,
+    Aweary of the over-arching sky.
+    And lo! an omen seems to chide delay,
+    And steel her purpose. As, in act to pay
+    Her gifts, with incense at the shrine she kneels,
+    Black turns the water, horrible to say;
+    To loathsome gore the sacred wine congeals.
+Not e'en to Anna's self this vision she reveals.
+
+LIX. Nay more; within the precincts of her house
+    There stood a marble shrine, with garlands bright
+    And snow-white fleeces, sacred to her spouse.
+    Hence, oft as darkness shrouds the world from sight,
+    Voices she hears, and accents of affright,
+    As though Sychaeus told aloud his wrong,
+    Hears from the roof-top, through the livelong night,
+    The solitary screech-owl's funeral song,
+Wailing an endless dirge, the dismal notes prolong.
+
+LX. Dim warnings, given by many an ancient seer,
+    Affright her. Ever wandering, ever lost,
+    In dreams she sees the fierce AEneas near,
+    And seeks her Tyrians on a lonely coast.
+    So raving Pentheus sees the Furies' host,
+    Twin suns and double Thebes. So, mad with Fate,
+    Blood-stained Orestes flees his mother's ghost,
+    Armed with black snakes and firebrands; at the gate
+The avenging Fiends, close-crouched, the murderer await.
+
+LXI. So now, possessed with Furies, the poor queen,
+    O'ercome with grief and resolute to die,
+    Settles the time and manner. Joy serene
+    Smiles on her brow, her purpose to belie,
+    And hope dissembled sparkles in her eye.
+    "Dear Anna," thus she hails with cheerful tone
+    Her weeping sister, "put thy sorrow by,
+    And joy with me. Indulgent Heaven hath shown
+A way to gain his love, or rid me of my own.
+
+LXII. "Near Ocean's limits and the sunset, lies
+    A far-off land, by AEthiopians owned,
+    Where mighty Atlas turns the spangled skies.
+    There a Massylian priestess I have found,
+    The warder of the Hesperian fane renowned.
+    'Twas hers to feed the dragon, hers to keep
+    The golden fruit, and guard the sacred ground,
+    The dragon's food in honied drugs to steep,
+And mix the poppy drowse, that soothes the soul to sleep.
+
+LXIII. "What souls she listeth, with her charms she claims
+    To free from passion, or with pains to smite
+    The love-sick heart; the planets all she tames,
+    And stays the rivers; and her voice of might
+    Calls forth the spirits from the realms of night.
+    Thyself the rumbling of the ground shalt hear,
+    And see the tall ash tumble from the height.
+    O, by the Gods, by thy sweet self I swear,
+Loth am I, sister dear, these magic arms to wear.
+
+LXIV. "Thou privily within the courtyard frame
+    A lofty pyre; his armour and attire
+    Heap on it, and the fatal couch of shame.
+    All relics of the wretch are doomed to fire;
+    So bids the priestess, and her charms require."
+    She ended, pale as death, and Anna plied
+    Her task, not dreaming of a rage so dire.
+    Nought worse she fears than when Sychaeus died,
+Nor recks that these strange rites her purposed death could hide.
+
+LXV. Now rose the pile within the courtyard's space,
+    Of oak and pine-wood, open to the wind.
+    Herself the Queen with garlands decked the place,
+    And funeral chaplets in the sides entwined.
+    Above, his robes, the sword he left behind,
+    And, last, his image on the couch she laid,
+    Foreknowing all, and while the altars shined
+    With blazing offerings, the enchantress-maid,
+Frenzied, with thundering voice and tresses disarrayed,
+
+LXVI. Summons her gods--three hundred powers divine,
+    Chaos and Erebus, in Hell supreme,
+    And Dian-Hecate, the maiden trine;
+    Then water, feigned of dark Avernus' stream,
+    She sprinkles round. Rank herbs are sought, that teem
+    With poisonous juice, and plants at midnight shorn
+    With brazen sickles by the Moon's pale beam,
+    And from the forehead of a foal new-born,
+Ere by the dam devoured, love's talisman is torn.
+
+LXVII. Herself, the queen, before the altar stands,
+    One foot unsandalled, and her flowing vest
+    Loosed from its cincture. In her stainless hands
+    The sacrificial cake she holds; her breast
+    Heaves, with approaching agony oppressed.
+    She calls the conscious planets as they move,
+    She calls the stars, her purpose to attest,
+    And all the gods, if any rules above,
+Mindful of lovers' wrongs, and just to injured love.
+
+LXVIII. 'Twas night; on earth all creatures were asleep:
+    Midway the stars moved silent through the sphere;
+    Hushed were the forest and the angry deep,
+    And hushed was every field, and far and near
+    Reigned stillness, and the night spread calm and clear.
+    The flocks, the birds, with painted plumage gay,
+    That haunt the copse, or dwell in brake and brere,
+    Or skim the liquid lakes--all silent lay,
+Lapt in oblivion sweet, forgetful of the day.
+
+LXIX. Not so unhappy Dido; no sweet peace
+    Dissolves her cares; her wakeful eyes and breast
+    Drink not the dewy night; her pains increase,
+    And love, with warring passions unsuppressed,
+    Swells up, and stirs the tumult of unrest.
+    "What, then," she sadly ponders, "shall I do?
+    Ah, woe is me! shall Dido, made a jest
+    To former lovers, stoop herself to sue,
+And beg the Nomad lords their oft-scorned vows renew?
+
+LXX. "Or with the fleet of Ilion shall I sail,
+    The slave and menial of a Trojan crew,
+    As though they count past kindness of avail,
+    Or dream that aught of gratitude be due?
+    Grant that I wished it, of these lordings who
+    Would take me, humbled and a thing of scorn?
+    Is Dido blind, if Trojans are untrue?
+    Know'st thou not yet, O lost one and forlorn,
+Troy's perjured race still shows Laomedon forsworn?
+
+LXXI. "What, fly alone, and join their shouting crew?
+    Or launch, and chase them with my Tyrian train
+    Scarce torn from Tyre? Nay--die and take thy due;
+    The sword alone can ease thee of thy pain.
+    Sister, 'twas thy weak pity wrought this bane,
+    Swayed by my tears, and gave me to the foe.
+    Ah! had I lived unloving, void of stain,
+    Free as the beasts, nor meddled with this woe,
+Nor wronged with broken vows Sychaeus' shade below!"
+
+LXXII. So wailed the Queen. AEneas, fixt in mind,
+    All things prepared, his voyage to pursue,
+    Snatched a brief slumber, on the deck reclined,
+    Lo, in a dream, returning near him drew
+    The God, and seemed his warning to renew.
+    Like Mercury, the very God behold!
+    So sweet his voice, so radiant was his hue,
+    Such loveliness of limb and youthful mould,
+Such cheeks of ruddiest bloom, and locks of burnished gold.
+
+LXXIII. "O goddess-born AEneas, can'st thou sleep,
+    Nor see the dangers that around thee lie,
+    Nor hear the Zephyrs whispering to the deep.
+    Dark crimes the Queen is plotting, bent to die
+    And tost with varying passions. Haste thee--fly,
+    While flight is open. Morn shall see the bay
+    Swarm with their ships, and all the shore and sky
+    Red with fierce firebrands and the flames. Away!
+Changeful is woman's mood, and varying with the day."
+
+LXXIV. He spake and, mixing with the night, withdrew.
+    Up starts AEneas from his sleep, so sore
+    The vision scared him, and awakes his crew.
+    "Quick, comrades, man the benches! ply the oar!
+    Unfurl the canvas! Lo, a God once more
+    Comes down to urge us, chiding our delay,
+    And bids us cut our cables from the shore.
+    Dread Power divine, we follow on thy way,
+Gladly, whoe'er thou art, thy summons we obey.
+
+LXXV. "Be near us now, and O, vouchsafe thine aid,
+    And bid fair stars their kindly beams afford
+    To light our pathway through the deep." He prayed,
+    And from the scabbard snatched his flaming sword,
+    And, swift as lightning, cleft the twisted cord.
+    Fired by their chief, like ardour fills the crew,
+    They scour, they scud and, hurrying, crowd on board.
+    Bare lies the beach; ships hide the sea from view,
+And strong arms lash the foam and sweep the sparkling blue.
+
+LXXVI. Now rose Aurora from the saffron bed
+    Of old Tithonus, and with orient ray
+    Sprinkled the earth. Forth looks the Queen in dread,
+    And from her watch-tower marks the twilight grey
+    Glow with the shimmering whiteness of the day,
+    The harbour shipless and the shore all bare,
+    The fleet with full-squared canvas under weigh.
+    Then thrice and four times, frantic with despair,
+She beats her beauteous breast, and rends her golden hair.
+
+LXXVII. "Ah! Jove, shall he escape me? Shall he mock
+    My queenship? He, an alien, flout my sway?
+    Will no one arm and chase them, or undock
+    The ships? Bring fire; get weapons, quick! Away!
+    Swing out the oars! Ah me! what do I say?
+    Where am I? O, what madness turns my brain?
+    Poor Dido, hath thy folly found its prey?
+    Thy sins, alas! they sting thee, but in vain.
+They should have done so then, when yielding him thy reign.
+
+LXXVIII. "Lo, there his honour and the faith he swore,
+    Who takes Troy's gods the partners of his flight,
+    And erst from Troy his aged parent bore.
+    O, had I torn him piecemeal, as I might,
+    And strewn him on the waves, and slain outright
+    His friends, and for the father's banquet spread
+    The murdered boy! But doubtful were the fight.
+    Grant that it had been, whom should Dido dread,
+What fear had death for me, self-destined to be dead?
+
+LXXIX. "These hands the firebrands at his feet had cast,
+    And filled with flames his hatches. Sire and son
+    And all their race had perished with the past,
+    And I, too, perished with them. O great Sun,
+    Whose torch reveals whate'er on Earth is done,
+    Juno, who know'st the passion that devours
+    Poor Dido; Hecate, where crossways run
+    Night-howled in cities; ye avenging Powers,
+Friends, Furies, Gods that guard Elissa's dying hours!
+
+LXXX. "Mark this, compassionate these woes, and bow
+    To supplication. If the Fates demand--
+    Curst be his head!--that he escape me now,
+    And touch his haven, and float up to land.
+    If so Jove wills, and fixt his edicts stand,
+    Then, scourged with warfare by a daring race,
+    In vain for succour let him stretch his hand,
+    And see his people perish with disgrace,
+An exile, torn from home and from his son's embrace.
+
+LXXXI. "And when hard peace the traitor stoops to buy,
+    No realm be his, nor happy days in store.
+    Cut off in prime of manhood let him die,
+    And rot unburied on the sandy shore.
+    This dying curse, this utterance I pour,
+    The latest, with my life-blood,--this my prayer.
+    Them and their children's children evermore
+    Ye Tyrians, with immortal hate outwear.
+This gift--'twill please me best--for Dido's shade prepare.
+
+LXXXII. "This heritage be yours; no truce nor trust
+    'Twixt theirs and ours, no union or accord
+    Arise, unknown Avenger from our dust;
+    With fire and steel upon the Dardan horde
+    Mete out the measure of their crimes' reward.
+    To-day, to-morrow, for eternity
+    Fight, oft as ye are able--sword with sword,
+    Shore with opposing shore, and sea with sea;
+Fight, Tyrians, all that are, and all that e'er shall be."
+
+LXXXIII. So spake the queen, and pondered in her breast
+    How of her loathed life to clip the thread,
+    Then briefly thus Sychaeus' nurse addressed
+    (Her own at Tyre lay buried)--"Haste," she said,
+    "Dear Barce; call my sister; let her head
+    With living water from the lustral bough
+    Be sprinkled. Hither be the victims led,
+    And due atoning offerings, and thou
+Bring forth the sacred wreath, and bind it on thy brow.
+
+LXXXIV. "The sacrifice, prepared for Stygian Jove,
+    I purpose now to consummate, and pay
+    The last sad rites, and ease me of my love,
+    And burn the couch whereon the Dardan lay."
+    She spake; the old dame tottering hastes away.
+    Maddening stood Dido at the doom so dread,
+    With bloodshot eyes and trembling with dismay,
+    Her quivering cheeks flecked with the burning red,
+Pale with approaching death, but yearning to be dead.
+
+LXXXV. So bursting through the inner doors she flew
+    And, with wild frenzy, climbed the lofty pyre,
+    Then seized the scabbard he had left, and drew
+    The sword, ne'er given for an end so dire.
+    But when, with eyes still wistful with desire,
+    She viewed the bed that she had known too well,
+    The Ilian raiment and the chief's attire,
+    She paused, then musing, while the teardrops fell,
+Sank on the fatal couch, and cried a last farewell:
+
+LXXXVI. "Dear relics! loved while Fate and Jove were kind,
+    Receive this soul, and free me from my woe.
+    My life is lived; behold, the course assigned
+    By Fortune now is finished, and I go,
+    A shade majestic, to the world below,
+    A glorious city I have built, have seen
+    My walls, avenged my husband of his foe.
+    Thrice happy, ah! too happy had I been
+Had Dardan ships, alas! not come to bring me teen!"
+
+LXXXVII. She paused, and pressed her lips upon the bed.
+    "To die--and unavenged? Yea, let me die!
+    Thus--thus it joys to journey to the dead.
+    Let yon false Dardan with remorseful eye
+    Drink in this bale-fire from the deep, and sigh
+    To bear the omens of my death."--No more
+    She said, but swooned. The servants see her lie,
+    Sunk on the sword; they see the life-blood pour,
+Reddening her tender hands, the weapon drenched with gore.
+
+LXXXVIII. Then through the lofty palace rose a scream,
+    And madly Rumour riots, as she flies
+    Through the shocked town. The very houses seem
+    To groan, and shrieks, and sobbing and the cries
+    Of wailing women pierce the vaulted skies.
+    'Twas e'en as though all Carthage or old Tyre
+    Were falling, stormed by ruthless enemies,
+    While over roof and battlement and spire
+And temples of the Gods rolled on the infuriate fire.
+
+LXXXIX. Her sister heard, and through the concourse came,
+    And tore her cheeks and beat her bosom fair,
+    And called upon the dying Queen by name.
+    "Sister! was this thy secret? thine this snare?
+    For me this fraud? For this did I prepare
+    That pyre, those flames and altars? This the end?
+    Ah me, forlorn! what worse remains to bear?
+    Would'st thou in death desert me, and pretend
+To scorn a sister's care, and shun me as a friend?
+
+XC. "Thou should'st have called me to thy doom! One stroke,
+    A moment's pang, and we had ceased to sigh.
+    Reared I this pyre, did I the gods invoke
+    To leave thee thus companionless, to die?
+    Lo, all are dead together, thou and I,
+    Town, princes, people, perished in a day.
+    Bring water; let me close the lightless eye,
+    And bathe those wounds, and kiss those lips of clay,
+And catch one fluttering breath, if yet, perchance, I may!"
+
+XCI. So saying, she climbs the steps, and, groaning sore,
+    Clasps to her breast her sister ere she dies,
+    And stanches with her robe the streaming gore.
+    In vain poor Dido lifts her wearied eyes,
+    The closing eyelids sicken at the skies.
+    Deep gurgles in her breast the deadly wound;
+    Thrice on her elbow she essays to rise,
+    Thrice back she sinks. With wandering eyes all round
+She seeks the light of heaven, and moans when it is found.
+
+XCII. Then Juno, pitying her agony
+    Of lingering death, sent Iris down with speed.
+    Her struggling soul from clinging limbs to free.
+    For since by Fate, or for her own misdeed
+    She perished not, but, ere the day decreed,
+    Fell in the frenzy of her love's despair,
+    Not yet Proserpina had claimed her meed,
+    And shorn the ringlet of her golden hair,
+And bade the sacred shade to Stygian realms repair.
+
+XCIII. So down to earth came Iris from on high
+    On saffron wings all glittering with the dew.
+    A thousand tints against the sunlit sky
+    She flashed from out her rainbow as she flew,
+    Then, hovering overhead, these words outthrew,
+    "Behold, to Dis this offering I bear,
+    And loose thee from thy body."--Forth she drew
+    The fatal shears, and clipped the golden hair;
+The vital heats disperse, and life dissolves in air.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK FIVE
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+AEneas, unaware of Dido's fate, sails away to Acestes in Sicily, and
+prepares funeral games against the anniversary of Anchises' death
+(1-90). Offerings are paid to the spirit of Anchises. Sicilians and
+Trojans assemble for the first contest, a boat race (91-140), which
+is described at length. Cloanthus, ancestor of the Cluentii, wins
+with the "Scylla" (141-342). The foot-race is next narrated.
+Euryalus, by his friend's cunning, gains the first prize, and the
+scene shifts (343-441) to the ring, in which Dares is defeated by
+the veteran Entellus, who fells the ox, his prize, as an offering
+to his master Eryx (442-594). After some wonderful shooting in the
+archery which follows, AEneas awards the first prize to Acestes, as
+the favourite of the gods (595-667). Before this contest is over
+AEneas summons Ascanius and his boy-companions to perform the
+elaborate manoeuvres afterwards celebrated in Rome as the "Trojan
+Ride" (668-729). Juno schemes to destroy the Trojan fleet, while the
+games are being held. She inspires with discontent the Trojan matrons,
+who are not present at the festival. They set fire to the ships
+(730-810). Ascanius hurries to the scene. Jupiter sends rain and
+saves all the ships but four (811-855). Nautes advises AEneas to
+leave behind the weak and aged with Acestes. The wraith of Anchises
+enforces the advice, and bids AEneas visit him in the nether-world
+(856-909). Preparations for departure. Acestes accepts his new
+subjects, and the Trojans depart. Venus prevails on Neptune to grant
+them safe convoy in return for the life of the helmsman Palinurus,
+who is drowned (910-1062).
+
+I.  Now well at sea, AEneas, fixt in mind,
+    Held on his course, and cleft the watery ways
+    Through billows blackened by the northern wind,
+    And backward on the city bent his gaze,
+    Bright with the flames of Dido. Whence the blaze
+    Arose, they knew not; but the pangs they knew
+    When love is passionate, and man betrays,
+    And what a frantic woman scorned can do,
+And many a sad surmise their boding thoughts pursue.
+
+II. The fleet was on mid-ocean; land no more
+    Was visible, nor aught but sea and sky;
+    When lo! above them a black cloud, that bore
+    Tempest and Night, frowned iron-dark on high,
+    And the wave, shuddering as the wind swept by,
+    Curled and was darkened. From the stern loud cries
+    The pilot Palinurus: "Whence and why
+    This cloudy rack that gathers o'er the skies?
+What, father Neptune, now, what mischief dost devise?"
+
+III. So having said, he bade the seamen take
+    The tackling in, and ply the lusty oar,
+    Then sloped the mainsheet to the wind, and spake:
+    "Noble AEneas, e'en if high Jove swore
+    To bring us safely to Italia's shore,
+    With skies like these, 'twere hopeless. Westward loom
+    The dark clouds mustering, and the changed winds roar
+    Athwart us, and the air is thick with gloom.
+Vainly we strive to move, and struggle with our doom.
+
+IV. "Come, then, since Fortune hath the mastering hand,
+    Yield we and turn. Not far, methinks, there lies
+    A friendly shore, thy brother Eryx' land,
+    And ports Sicanian, if aright these eyes
+    Recall my former reading of the skies."
+    Then good AEneas: "Long ago, 'tis plain,
+    The winds so willed it. I have seen," he cries,
+    "And marked thee toiling in their teeth in vain.
+Shift sail and turn the helm. What sweeter shore to gain,
+
+V.  "What port more welcome to a wearied fleet
+    And wave-worn mariners, what land more blest
+    Than that where still Acestes lives, to greet
+    His Dardan friends, and in the boon earth's breast
+    My father's bones, Anchises', are at rest?"
+    He spake; at once the Trojans strive to gain
+    The port. Fair breezes, blowing from the West,
+    Swell out the sails. They bound along the main,
+And soon with gladdening hearts the well-known shore attain.
+
+VI. Far off Acestes, wondering, from a height
+    The coming of their friendly ships descries,
+    And hastes to meet them. Roughly is he dight
+    In Libyan bearskin, as in huntsman's guise;
+    A pointed javelin in each hand he plies.
+    Him once a Trojan to Crimisus bore,
+    The stream-god. Mindful of ancestral ties
+    He hails his weary kinsmen, come once more,
+And dainty fruits sets forth, and cheers them from his store.
+
+VII. Next dawn had chased the stars, when on the shore
+    AEneas thus the gathered crews addressed:
+    "Twelve months have passed, brave Dardans, since we bore
+    The bones of great Anchises to his rest,
+    And laid his ashes in the ground, and blessed
+    The mourning altars by the rolling sea.
+    And now once more, if rightly I have guessed,
+    The day is come, which Heaven hath willed to be
+Sacred for evermore, but ever sad to me.
+
+VIII. This day, though exiled on Gaetulian sands,
+    Or caught by tempests on th' AEgean brine,
+    Or at Mycenae in the foemen's hands,
+    With annual honours will I hold divine,
+    And head with fitting offerings the shrine.
+    By chance unsought, now hither are we led,
+    Yet not, I ween, without the God's design,
+    Where lie the ashes of my father dead,
+And greet a friendly port, by favouring breezes sped.
+
+IX. "Come then, with festival his name revere,
+    Pray we for winds to waft us, and entreat
+    His shade to take these offerings year by year,
+    When gathered to our new-built Troy, we meet
+    In hallowed fanes, his worship to repeat.
+    See, for each ship two head of horned kine
+    Acestes sends, his Trojan friends to greet
+    Bid then the home-gods of the Trojan line,
+With those our host adores, to grace the feast divine.
+
+X.  "Nay, if the ninth fair morning show fine day,
+    And bring the sunshine, be a match decreed
+    For Teucrian ships, their swiftness to essay.
+    Next, in the footrace whosoe'er hath speed,
+    Or, glorying in his manhood, claims the meed
+    With dart, or flying arrow and the bow,
+    Or bout with untanned gauntlet, mark and heed,
+    And wait the victor's guerdon. Come ye now;
+Hush'd be each idle tongue, and garlanded each brow."
+
+XI. He spake, and round his temples binds with joy
+    His mother's myrtle. Helymus is crowned,
+    The veteran Acestes, and the boy
+    Ascanius, and the Trojan warriors round.
+    So from the council to the funeral mound
+    He moves, the centre of a circling crowd.
+    Two bowls of wine he pours upon the ground,
+    Two of warm milk, and two of victim's blood,
+And, scattering purple flowers, invokes the shade aloud.
+
+XII. "Hail, holy Sire! blest Spirit, hail once more,
+    And ashes, vainly rescued! Not with thee
+    Was I allowed to reach Italia's shore,
+    The fields Ausonian that the Fates decree,
+    And Latin Tiber--whatsoe'er it be."
+    He ceased, when lo, a monstrous serpent, wound
+    In seven huge coils, seven giant spires, they see
+    Glide from the grave, and gently clasp the mound,
+And 'twixt the altars trail in many a tortuous round.
+
+XIII. The back with azure and the scales with gold
+    In streaks and glittering patches were ablaze:
+    So doth the rainbow in the clouds unfold
+    A thousand hues against the sun's bright rays.
+    AEneas stood bewildered with amaze.
+    In lengthened train meanwhile the snake went on,
+    'Twixt cups and bowls weaving its sinuous ways,
+    Then sipped the sacred food, and harming none,
+The tasted altars left and 'neath the tomb was gone.
+
+XIV. Cheered, to Anchises he the rites renewed,
+    In doubt if there some Genius of the shrine
+    Or menial spirit of his sire he viewed.
+    Two sheep, two dark-backed heifers, and two swine
+    He slays, invoking, as he pours the wine,
+    The ghost, released from Acheron. Glad of soul,
+    Each adds his gift. These slay the sacred Kine,
+    Pile altars, set the cauldrons, heap the coal,
+And, sitting, hold the spits, and roast the entrails whole.
+
+XV. Now came the looked-for day. The ninth fair dawn
+    Bright Phaethon drove up a cloudless sky.
+    Rumour and great Acestes' name had drawn
+    The neighbouring folk; shoreward in crowds they hie
+    To see the Trojans, or the games to try.
+    Piled in the lists the presents they behold,
+    Green garlands, tripods, robes of purple dye,
+    The conqueror's palm, bright armour for the bold,
+And many a talent's weight of silver and of gold.
+
+XVI. Now from a mound the trumpet's notes proclaim
+    The sports begun. Four galleys from the fleet,
+    The choicest, manned by mariners of fame,
+    And matched in size and urged with ponderous beat
+    Of oar-blades, for the naval contest meet.
+    See, here the Shark comes speeding to her place,
+    Trained is her crew and eager to compete,
+    Brave Mnestheus is her captain, born to grace
+Italia's land ere long, and found the Memmian race.
+
+XVII. Here too, the huge Chimaera towers along,
+    A floating citadel, with walls of pine,
+    Three tale of Dardans urge her, stout and strong,
+    Their triple tiers in unison combine
+    To drive her, ruled by Gyas, through the brine.
+    Borne in the monstrous Centaur, next doth come
+    Sergestus, father of the Sergian line.
+    Last, in the dark-blue Scylla ploughs the foam
+Cloanthus, whence thy house, Cluentius of Rome.
+
+XVIII. Far seaward stands, afront the foamy shore,
+    A rock, half-hid when wintry waves upleap,
+    And skies are starless, and the North-winds roar,
+    But still and silent, when the calm waves sleep,
+    A level top it lifts above the deep,
+    The seamews' haunt. A bough of ilex here
+    The good AEneas sets upon the steep,
+    Green-leaved and tall,--a goal, to seamen clear,
+To seek and, doubling round, their homeward course to steer.
+
+XIX. Each takes his station. On the sterns behold,
+    Ranged in due order as the lots assign,
+    The captains, gay with purple and with gold.
+    The crews their brows with poplar garlands twine,
+    And wet with oil their naked shoulders shine.
+    Prone on their oars, and straining from the thwart,
+    With souls astretch, they listen for the sign.
+    Fear stirs the pulse and drains the throbbing heart,
+Thrilled with the lust of praise, and panting for the start.
+
+XX. Loud peals the trumpet. From the port they dash
+    With cheers. The waves hiss, as the strong arms keep
+    In time, drawn up to finish with a flash;
+    And three-toothed prow and oars, with measured sweep,
+    Tear up the yawning furrows of the deep,
+    Less swiftly, to the chariot yoked atwain,
+    The bounding racers from the base outleap,
+    Less keen the driver, as they scour the plain,
+Leans o'er the whistling lash, and slacks the streaming rein.
+
+XXI. Shouts, cheers and plaudits wake the woods around,
+    Their clamours roll along the land-locked shore,
+    And, echoing, from the beaten hills rebound.
+    First Gyas comes, amid the rout and roar;
+    Cloanthus second,--better with the oar
+    His crew, but heavier is the load of pine.
+    Next Shark and Centaur struggle to the fore,
+    Now Shark ahead, now Centaur, now in line
+The long keels, urged abreast, together plough the brine.
+
+XXII. Near lay the rock, the goal was close in sight,
+    When Gyas, first o'er half a length of tide
+    Shouts to his helmsman: "Whither to the right?
+    Hug close the cliff, and graze the leftward side.
+    Let others hold the deep." In vain he cried.
+    Menoetes feared the hidden reefs, and bore
+    To seaward. "Whither from thy course so wide?
+    What; swerving still?" the captain shouts once more,
+"Keep to the shore, I say, Menoetes, to the shore."
+
+XXIII. He turned, when lo! behind him, gaining fast,
+    Cloanthus. On the leeward side he stole
+    A narrower compass, grazing as he passed
+    His rival's vessel and the sounding shoal,
+    Then gained safe water, as he turned the goal.
+    Grief fired young Gyas at the sight, and drew
+    Tears from his eyes and anger from his soul.
+    Careless alike of honour and his crew,
+Down from the lofty stern his timorous guide he threw.
+
+XXIV. Forthwith he grasps the tiller in his hand,
+    Captain and helmsman, and his comrades cheers,
+    And wrests the rudder leftward to the land,
+    Slow from the depths Menoetes reappears,
+    Clogged by his clothes, and cumbered with his years.
+    Then, shoreward swimming, climbs with feeble craft
+    The rock, and there sits drying. All with jeers
+    Laughed as he fell and floated; loud they laughed
+As, sputtering, from his throat he spits the briny draught.
+
+XXV. Joy, mixt with hope, as Gyas slacks his pace,
+    Fires the two hindmost. Now they near the mark;
+    Sergestus, leading, takes the inside place.
+    Yet not a length divides them, for the Shark
+    Shoots up halfway and overlaps his bark.
+    Mnestheus, amidships pacing, cheers his crew;
+    "Now, now lean to, and let each arm be stark;
+    Row, mighty Hector's followers, whom I drew
+From Troy, in Troy's last hour, my comrades tried and true!
+
+XXVI. "Now for the strength and hardihood that braved
+    Gaetulian shoals, and the Ionian main,
+    And billows following billows, as they raved
+    Against steep Malea. Not mine to gain
+    The prize: I strive not to be first--'tis vain.
+    Sweet were the thought--but Neptune rules the race;
+    Let them the palm, whom he has willed, retain.
+    But oh, for shame! to take the hindmost place
+Win this--to ward that doom, and ban the dire disgrace."
+
+XXVII. Straining each nerve, they bend them to the oar.
+    The bronze poop reels, so lustily they row,
+    And from beneath them slips the watery floor.
+    The parched lips quiver, as they pant and blow,
+    Sweat pours in rivers from their limbs; when now
+    Chance brings the wished-for honour. Blindly rash,
+    Close to the rocks Sergestus drives his prow.
+    Too close he steals; on jutting crags they dash;
+The straining oars snap short, the bows with sudden crash
+
+XXVIII. Stick fast, and hang upon the ledge. Up spring
+    With shouts the sailors, clamorous at delay,
+    And snatch the crushed oars from the waves, and bring
+    Sharp poles and steel-tipt boathooks, and essay
+    To thrust the forepart from the rocks away.
+    Brave Mnestheus sees and, glorying in his gain,
+    Invokes the winds. With oarsmen in array
+    His swift bark, urged with many a stalwart strain,
+Shoots down the sloping tide, and wins the open main.
+
+XXIX. Like as a pigeon, startled from her rest,
+    Swift from the crannies of the rock, where clings
+    Her heart's desire, the darlings of her nest,
+    Darts forth and, scared with terror, flaps her wings,
+    Then, gliding smoothly, in the soft air swings,
+    And skims her liquid passage through the skies
+    On pinions motionless. So Mnestheus springs,
+    So springs the Shark; her impulse, as she flies,
+Cleaving the homeward seas, the wanting wings supplies.
+
+XXX. He leaves Sergestus, who implores in vain
+    His aid, still toiling from the rocks to clear
+    And headway with his shattered oars to gain.
+    Soon huge Chimaera, left with none to steer,
+    Drops off astern, and labours in the rear.
+    Alone remains Cloanthus, but the race
+    Well-nigh is ended, and the goal is near;
+    Him Mnestheus seeks; his crew, with quickened pace
+And utmost stretch of oars, press forward in the chase.
+
+XXXI. Now, now the noise redoubles; cheers and cries
+    Urge on the follower, and the wild acclaim
+    Rolls up, and wakes the echoes of the skies.
+    These scorn to lose their vantage, stung with shame,
+    And life is wagered willingly for fame.
+    Success inspires the hindmost; as they dare,
+    They do; the thought of winning wins the game.
+    With equal honours Chance had crowned the pair,
+But thus, with outspread hands, Cloanthus breathed a prayer:
+
+XXXII. "Great Gods of Ocean! on whose waves I ride,
+    A milk-white bull upon the shore I vow,
+    And with its entrails will I strew the tide,
+    And on your altars make the wine outflow."
+    Fair Panopea hears him from below,
+    The Nereids hear, and old Portunus plies
+    His own great hand, to push them as they go.
+    Swifter than arrow to the shore she flies,
+Swifter than Southern gale, and in the harbour lies.
+
+XXXIII. All summoned now, the herald's voice declares
+    Cloanthus conqueror, and with verdant bay
+    AEneas crowns him. To each crew he shares
+    Three steers and wine, and, to recall the day,
+    A silver talent bids them bear away.
+    Choice honours to the captains next are told,
+    A scarf he gives the victor, rich and gay,
+    Twice-fringed with purple, glorious to behold,
+Whose Melibaean dye meanders round the gold.
+
+XXXIV. Inwoven there, behold the kingly boy,
+    Fair Ganymede, pursues the flying deer
+    On Ida and the wooded heights of Troy,
+    Swift-footed, glorying with uplifted spear,
+    So keen the panting of his heart ye hear.
+    Down swoops Jove's armour-bearer, and on high
+    With taloned claws hath trussed him. Vainly here
+    His aged guardians lift their heads and cry;
+The faithful dogs look up, and fiercely bay the sky.
+
+XXXV. A goodly hauberk to the next he gave,
+    With polished rings and triple chain of gold,
+    Torn by his own hands from Demoleos brave,
+    Beneath high Troy, where Simois swiftly rolled,
+    The warrior's glory and defence, to hold.
+    Phegeus and Sagaris, with all their might,
+    Two stalwart slaves, scarce bore it, fold on fold,
+    That coat of mail, wherein Demoleos dight,
+Trod down the ranks of Troy, and put his foes to flight.
+
+XXXVI. Last comes the third: two brazen caldrons fine,
+    Two cups of silver doth the prince bestow,
+    Rough-chased with imagery of choice design.
+    Each had his prize, and glorying forth they go,
+    With purple ribbons on their brows, when lo!
+    Scarce torn with effort from the rock's embrace,
+    Oarless, and short of oarsmen by a row,
+    Home comes Sergestus, and in rueful case
+Drives his dishonoured bark, left hindmost in the race.
+
+XXXVII. As when an adder, whom athwart the way
+    Some wheel hath crushed, or traveller, passing by,
+    Maimed with a stone, as unaware he lay,
+    And left sore mangled, on the point to die,
+    In vain his coils would lengthen, fain to fly:
+    One half erect, his burning eyes around
+    He darts, and lifts his hissing throat on high,
+    Defiant, half still writhes upon the ground,
+Self-twined in tortuous knots, and crippled by the wound:
+
+XXXVIII. So slowly rows the Centaur, yet anon
+    They set the sails, and loose the spreading sheet,
+    And crowd full canvas; and the port is won.
+    Glad is AEneas, and he joys to greet
+    His friends brought safely and his ships complete.
+    So to Sergestus, for his portion due,
+    He gives fair Pholoe, a slave of Crete,
+    Twins at her breast, two sons of loveliest hue,
+And well Minerva's works, the weaving art, she knew.
+
+XXXIX. This contest o'er, the good AEneas sought
+    A grassy plain, with waving forests crowned
+    And sloping hills--fit theatre for sport,
+    Where in the middle of the vale was found
+    A circus. Hither comes he, ringed around
+    With thousands, here, amidst them, throned on high
+    In rustic state, he seats him on a mound,
+    And all who in the footrace list to vie,
+With proffered gifts invites, and tempts their souls to try.
+
+XL. In crowds the Teucrians and Sicanians come,
+    First, Nisus and Euryalus. None so fair
+    As young Euryalus, in youthful bloom
+    And beauty; none with Nisus could compare
+    In pure affection for a youth so rare.
+    Here stood Diores, famous for his speed,
+    A prince of Priam's lineage; Salius there,
+    And Patron, this of Acarnanian seed,
+That of Arcadian birth and Tegeaean breed.
+
+XLI. Came from Trinacria two champions bold,
+    Young Helymus and Panopes, well-tried
+    In woodland craft, and followers of old
+    Acestes; came full many a youth beside,
+    Whose fame shines dimly, or whose name hath died.
+    Then cries AEneas 'mid the concourse: "Ho!
+    Give heed, for surely shall my word abide,
+    Blithe be your hearts, for none among you--no,
+Not one of all this crowd--without a gift shall go.
+
+XLII. "To each, a common largess, be a pair
+    Of Gnossian javelins and an axe decreed,
+    With haft of silver chasings. Three shall wear
+    Crowns of pale olive. For the victor's need,
+    Adorned with trappings, stands a noble steed.
+    A quiver, worn by Amazon of old,
+    With Thracian arrows, for the next in speed,
+    Clasped with a gem and belted with bright gold.
+The third this Argive helm, fit recompense, shall hold."
+
+XLIII. He spake, and at the signal forth they burst
+    Together, like a storm-cloud, from the base,
+    With eager eyes set goalward. Nisus first
+    Darts off, and, bounding with the South-wind's pace,
+    And swift as winged lightning, leads the race.
+    Next, but the next with many a length between,
+    Comes Salius; then, behind him, third in place,
+    Euryalus; then Helymus is seen;
+And lo! Diores last, comes flying along the green.
+
+XLIV. Heel touching heel, on Helymus he hung,
+    Shoulder to shoulder. But a rood beside,
+    And, slipping past him, foremost he had sprung,
+    And solved a doubt by winning. Side by side,
+    The last lap reached, with many a labouring stride
+    And breathless effort to the post they strain,
+    When lo! chance-tripping where the sward is dyed
+    With slippery blood of oxen newly slain,
+Down luckless Nisus slides, and sprawls upon the plain.
+
+XLV. Stumbling, he felt the tottering knees give way.
+    With shouts of triumph on his lips he falls
+    Prone in the gore and in the miry clay.
+    E'en then, his love remembering, he recalls
+    Euryalus. Across the track he crawls,
+    Then, scrambling up from out the quagmire, flies
+    At Salius. In the dust proud Salius sprawls.
+    Forth darts Euryalus, 'mid cheers and cries,
+Hailed, through his helping friend, the winner of the prize.
+
+XLVI. The second prize to Helymus, the third
+    Falls thus to brave Diores.--Now the heat
+    Was o'er, when Salius with his clamouring stirred
+    Troy's seated elders, furious with defeat,
+    And claimed the prize, as wrested by a cheat.
+    Tears aid Euryalus, and favour pleads
+    His worth, more winsome in a form so sweet,
+    And loudly, too, Diores intercedes.
+Lost were his own last prize, if Salius' claim succeeds.
+
+XLVII. "Boys," said the good AEneas, "the award
+    Is fixt, and no man shall the palm withhold.
+    Yet be it mine to cheer a friend ill-starred."
+    He spake, and Salius with a gift consoled,
+    A Moorish lion's hide, with claws of gold
+    And shaggy hair. Then Nisus with a frown:
+    "If gifts so great a vanquished man may hold,
+    If falls win pity, and defeat renown,
+What prize shall Nisus gain, whose merit earned the crown?
+
+XLVIII. "Ay, who had won, had Chance not interfered,
+    And baffled me, like Salius? Look," he said,
+    And pointed to his limbs and forehead, smeared
+    With ordure. Smiling, the good Sire surveyed
+    His piteous plight and raiment disarrayed;
+    Then forth he bade a glittering shield be borne,
+    Which Didymaon's workmanship had made,
+    From Neptune's temple by the Danaans torn.
+This prize he gives the youth, his prowess to adorn.
+
+XLIX. The race was ended, and the gifts assigned,
+    When thus AEneas, as they thronged about,
+    Addressed the crowd: "Now, whosoe'er hath mind
+    His nerve to venture, or whose heart is stout,
+    Step forth, and don the gauntlets and strike out."
+    He spake, and straightway, while the lists they clear,
+    Sets forth the gifts, for him who wins the bout,
+    Gilt-horned and garlanded, a comely steer,
+A sword and glittering helm, the loser's soul to cheer.
+
+L.  At once, amid loud murmurs, to his feet
+    Upsprang great Dares, who in olden day
+    Alone the haughty Paris dared to meet.
+    He, by the tomb where mightiest Hector lay,
+    Huge Butes fought, who, glorying in the bay,
+    And boasting Amycus' Bebrycian strain,
+    Called for his match. But Dares heard him, yea,
+    And smote him. Headlong on the sandy plain
+A lifeless corpse he rolled, and all his boasts were vain.
+
+LI. Such Dares towers, and strides into the ring,
+    With head erect, and shoulders broad and bare,
+    And right and left his sinewy arms doth swing,
+    And burning for a rival, beats the air.
+    Where is his match? Not one of all will dare
+    To don the gloves. So, deeming none can stand
+    Against him, flushed with triumph, then and there
+    Before AEneas, grasping in his hand
+The heifer's horns, he cries in accents of command:
+
+LII. "Son of a goddess, if none risks the fray,
+    How long shall Dares guerdonless remain?
+    What end of standing? Must I wait all day?
+    Bring the prize hither." Straight the Dardan train
+    Shout for their champion, and his claim sustain.
+    Then to Entellus, seated at his side,
+    Couched on the green grass, in reproachful strain
+    Thus sternly spake Acestes, fired with pride,
+And fain, for manhood sake, his younger friend to chide:
+
+LIII. "Entellus, once our bravest, but in vain,
+    Can'st _thou_ sit tamely, with the field unfought,
+    And see this braggart glory in his gain?
+    Where is thy god, that Eryx? Hath he taught
+    Thine arm its vaunted cleverness for naught?
+    To us what booteth thy Trinacrian name,
+    Thy spoil-hung house, thy roof with prizes fraught?"
+    Entellus said: "My spirit is the same.
+Fear hath not quenched my fire, nor checked the love of fame.
+
+LIV. "But numbing age hath made the blood run cold,
+    And turned my strength to dulness and decay.
+    Had I the youth that stirred these bones of old,
+    The youth _he_ boasts, no need of guerdon, nay,
+    Nor comely steer to tempt me to the fray.
+    Glory I care for, not a gift," he cried,
+    And, rising, hurled into the ring midway
+    Two ponderous gauntlets, stiff with hardened hide;
+These Eryx wore, these thongs around his wrists he tied.
+
+LV. All stood amazed, so huge the weight, so vast,
+    Sevenfold with lead and iron overlaid,
+    The bull's tough hide. E'en Dares shrank aghast.
+    Forth stepped AEneas, and the gauntlets weighed,
+    And to and fro the ponderous folds he swayed.
+    Then gruffly spake the veteran once more:
+    "Ah! had ye seen great Hercules arrayed
+    In arms like these, such gauntlets as he wore,
+And watched the deadly fight waged here upon the shore!
+
+LVI. "These Eryx wore, thy brother, when that day
+    He faced Alcides in the strife;--see now
+    His blood and brains,--with these I dared the fray
+    When better blood gave vigour, nor the snow
+    Of envious eld was sprinkled on my brow.
+    Still, if this Trojan doth these arms decline,
+    And good AEneas and our host allow,
+    Match we the fight. These gauntlets I resign,
+Put fear away, and doff those Trojan gloves of thine."
+
+LVII. So saying, Entellus from his shoulders flung
+    His quilted doublet, and revealed to light
+    The massive joints, the sinews firmly strung,
+    The bones and muscles, and the limbs of might,
+    And, like a giant, stood prepared for fight.
+    Two gloves for either champion, matched in weight,
+    AEneas brings, and binds them firm and tight.
+    So, face to face, each eager and elate,
+Like-armed the rivals stand, on tiptoe for debate.
+
+LVIII. Each from the blow the towering head draws back,
+    Fearless, with arms uplifted to the skies.
+    Spars hand through hand, and tempts to the attack,
+    One, nimbler-footed, on his youth relies;
+    Entellus' strength is in his limbs and size.
+    But the knees shake beneath him, and are slow,
+    And age the wanted energy denies.
+    He heaves for breath; thick pantings come and go,
+And shake the labouring breast, as hailing blow on blow.
+
+LIX. In vain they strive for mastery. Loud sound
+    Their hollow sides; the battered chests ring back,
+    As here and there the whistling strokes pelt round
+    Their ears and temples, and the jaw-bones crack.
+    Firm stands Entellus, though his knees are slack;
+    Still in the same strained posture, he defies,
+    Unmoved, the tempest of his foe's attack.
+    Only his body and his watchful eyes
+Slip from the purposed stroke, and shun the wished surprise.
+
+LX. As one who strives with battery to o'erthrow
+    A high-walled city, or close siege doth lay
+    Against some mountain-stronghold; even so
+    Sly Dares shifts, an opening to essay,
+    And vainly varies his assault each way.
+    On tiptoe stretched, Entellus, pricked with pride,
+    Puts forth his right hand, with resistless sway
+    Steep from his shoulder. But the foe, quick-ey'd,
+Foresees the coming blow, and lightly leaps aside.
+
+LXI. On empty air Entellus wastes his strength.
+    Down goes the giant, baulked of his design,
+    Fallen like a giant, and lies stretched at length.
+    So, torn from earth, on Ida's height divine
+    Or Erymanthus, falls the hollow pine.
+    Up spring each rival's countrymen. Loud cheers
+    The welkin rend, and, bursting through the line,
+    Forth runs Acestes, and his friend uprears,
+Pitying his fallen worth and fellowship of years.
+
+LXII. Fearless, unshaken, with his soul aflame
+    For vengeance, up Entellus springs again,
+    And conscious valour and the sense of shame
+    Rouse all his strength as, burning with disdain,
+    He drives huge Dares headlong o'er the plain,
+    Now right, now left, keeps pummelling his foe;
+    No stint, no stay; as rattling hailstones rain
+    On roof-tops, so with many a ceaseless blow
+Each hand in turn he plies, and pounds him to and fro.
+
+LXIII. But good AEneas suffered not too far
+    The strife to rage, not let Entellus slake
+    His wrath, but rescued Dares from the war,
+    Sore-spent, and thus in soothing terms bespake,
+    "Poor friend! what madness doth thy mind o'ertake?
+    Feel'st not that more than mortal is his aid?
+    The gods are with him, and thy cause forsake.
+    Yield then to heaven and desist."--He said,
+And with his voice straightway the deadly strife allayed.
+
+LXIV. Then, stirred with pity, the Dardanian throng
+    Their vanquished kinsman from the contest bore.
+    His sick knees wearily he drags along,
+    Feeble and helpless, for his wound is sore;
+    And loosened teeth and clots of curdled gore
+    Spout forth, as o'er his shoulders nods each way
+    The drooping head. They lead him to the shore,
+    His gifts, the sword and helmet; but the bay
+And bull Entellus takes, the victor of the day.
+
+LXV. Forth steps the champion, glorying in the prize,
+    Pride in his port, defiance on his brow.
+    "See, Goddess-born; ye Teucrians, mark," he cried,
+    "What strength Entellus in his youth could show;
+    How dire a doom ye warded from his foe."
+    He spake and, standing opposite the bull,
+    Swung back his arm, and, rising to the blow,
+    Betwixt the horns with hardened glove smote full,
+And back upon the brain drove in the splintered skull.
+
+LXVI. Down drops the beast, and on the earth lies low,
+    Quivering but dead. Then o'er him, as he lay,
+    Entellus cries "O Eryx, hear my vow.
+    This life, for Dares, I devote this day,
+    A nobler victim and a worthier prey.
+    Accept it thou who taught'st this arm to wield
+    The gloves of death. Unvanquished in the fray
+    These withered arms their latest offering yield,
+These gauntlets I resign, and here renounce the field."
+
+LXVII. Next cries AEneas to the crowd: "Come now,
+    Whoso hath mind in archer's feats to vie,
+    Step forth, and prove his cunning with the bow":
+    Then sets the prizes: on the beach hard by
+    With stalwart arms he rears a mast on high,
+    Ta'en from Serestus' vessel, and thereto
+    A fluttering pigeon with a string doth tie,
+    Mark for their shafts. Around the rivals drew,
+And in a brazen helm the gathered lots they threw.
+
+LXIII. Out leap the names; cheers hail the first in place,
+    Hippocoon, son of Hyrtacus renowned;
+    Then Mnestheus, victor in the naval race,
+    Mnestheus, his brows with olive wreath still crowned.
+    Third in the casque Eurytion's lot is found
+    Thy brother, famous Pandarus, whose dart,
+    Hurled at the Danaans, did the truce confound.
+    Last comes Acestes, for with dauntless heart
+Still in the toils of youth the veteran claims his part.
+
+LXIX. Forth step the marksmen, and with bows well-bent,
+    Draw forth their arrows, and their aim prepare.
+    Loud twanged the cord, as first Hippocoon sent
+    His feathered shaft, that through the flowing air
+    Went whistling on, and pierced the mast, and there
+    Stuck fast. The stout tree quivered, and the bird
+    Flapped with her wings in terror and despair,
+    Fluttering for freedom, and around were heard
+Shouts, as admiring joy the clamorous concourse stirred.
+
+LXX. Next him stood Mnestheus, eager for the prize,
+    And straight the bowstring to his breast updrew,
+    Aiming aloft. The lightning of his eyes
+    Went with the arrow, as he twanged the yew.
+    Ah pity! Fortune sped the shaft untrue.
+    The bird he missed, but cut the flaxen ties
+    That held the feet, and cleft the knots in two.
+    And forth, exulting, through the windy skies,
+Into the darkening clouds the loosened captive flies.
+
+LXXI. Then, quick as thought, his arrow on the string,
+    Eurytion to his brother breathed a prayer,
+    Marking the pigeon, as she clapped her wing
+    Beneath a cloud, he pierced her. Breathless there
+    She drops; her life is with the stars of air,
+    The bolt is in her breast. Acestes now
+    Alone remains; no palm is left to bear,
+    Yet skyward shoots the veteran, proud to show
+What skill his hand can boast, the sounding of his bow.
+
+LXXII. Sudden a portent was revealed; how great
+    An augury, the future brought to light,
+    And frightening seers their omens sang too late.
+    Aloft, the arrow kindled in its flight,
+    Then marked with shining trail its pathway bright,
+    And, wasting, vanished into viewless air.
+    So stars, unfastened from the vault of night,
+    Stream in the firmament with fiery glare,
+And through the dark fling out a length of glittering hair.
+
+LXXIII. Awed stand the men of Sicily and Troy,
+    And pray the gods. AEneas owns the sign,
+    And, heaping gifts, Acestes clasps with joy.
+    "Take, father, take; Jove's auspices divine
+    A special honour for thy meed assign.
+    This bowl, embossed with images of gold,
+    The gift of old Anchises, shall be thine,
+    Which Thracian Cisseus to my sire of old
+Gave, as a pledge of love, to have it and to hold."
+
+LXXIV. So saying, with a garland of green bay
+    He crowned his temples, and the prize conferred,
+    And named Acestes victor of the day.
+    Nor good Eurytion to the choice demurred,
+    Nor grudged to see the veteran's claim preferred,
+    Though his the prowess that the rest surpassed,
+    His shaft the one that struck the soaring bird.
+    The second, he who cut the cord, the last,
+He who with feathered reed transfixed the tapering mast.
+
+LXXV. But good AEneas, ere the games are done,
+    The child of Epytus, companion dear
+    And trusty guardian of his beardless son,
+    Calls to his side, and whispers in his ear:
+    "Go bid Ascanius, if his troop be here
+    And steeds in readiness, with spear and shield
+    In honour of his grandsire to appear."
+    Then, calling to the thronging crowd to yield
+Free space, he clears the course, and open lies the field.
+
+LXXVI. Forth ride the boys, before their fathers' eyes,
+    Reining their steeds. In radiant files they fare,
+    And wondering murmurs from each host arise.
+    All with stript leaves have bound the flowing hair.
+    Two cornel javelins, tipt with steel, they bear,
+    Some, polished quivers; and a pliant chain
+    Of twisted gold around the neck they wear;
+    Three companies--three captains scour the plain.
+Twelve youths, behind each chief, compose the glittering train.
+
+LXXVII. One shouting troop young Priam's lead obeys,
+    Thy son, Polites, from his grandsire hight,
+    And born erelong Italia's fame to raise.
+    A dappled Thracian charger bears the knight,
+    His pasterns flecked and forehead starred with white.
+    Next Atys, whom the Atian line reveres,
+    The youthful idol of a youth's delight,
+    So well Iulus loved him. Last appears
+Iulus, first in grace and comeliest of his peers.
+
+LXXVIII. His a Sidonian charger; Dido fair
+    This pledge and token of her love supplied.
+    Trinacrian horses his attendants bear,
+    Acestes' gift. Their bosoms throb with pride,
+    While Dardans, cheering, welcome as they ride
+    The sires that have been in the sons that are.
+    So, when before their kinsfolk on each side
+    Their ranks had passed, Epytides afar
+Cracks the loud whip, and shouts the signal, as for war.
+
+LXXIX. In equal bands the triple troops divide,
+    Then turn, and rallying, with spears bent low,
+    Charge at the call. Now back again they ride,
+    Wheel round, and weave new courses to and fro,
+    In armed similitude of martial show,
+    Circling and intercircling. Now in flight
+    They bare their backs, now turning, foe to foe,
+    Level their lances to the charge, now plight
+The truce, and side by side in friendly league unite.
+
+LXXX. E'en as in Crete the Labyrinth of old
+    Between blind walls its secret hid from view,
+    With wildering ways and many a winding fold,
+    Wherein the wanderer, if the tale be true,
+    Roamed unreturning, cheated of the clue:
+    Such tangles weave the Teucrians, as they feign
+    Fighting or flying, and the game renew:
+    So dolphins, sporting on the watery plain,
+Cleave the Carpathian waves and distant Libya's main.
+
+LXXXI. These feats Ascanius to his people showed,
+    When girdling Alba Longa; there with joy
+    The ancient Latins in the pastime rode,
+    Wherein the princely Dardan, as a boy,
+    Was wont his Trojan comrades to employ.
+    To Alban children from their sires it came,
+    And mighty Rome took up the "game of Troy,"
+    And called the players "Trojans," and the name
+Lives on, as sons renew the hereditary game.
+
+LXXXII. Thus far to blest Anchises they defrayed
+    The funeral rites; when Fortune turned unkind,
+    Forsook her faith. For while the games were played
+    Before the tomb, Saturnian Juno's mind
+    New schemes, to glut her ancient wrath, designed.
+    Iris she calls, and bids the Goddess go
+    Down to the Ilian fleet, and breathes a wind
+    To waft her on. So, borne upon her bow
+Of myriad hues, unseen, the maiden hastes below.
+
+LXXXIII. She eyes the concourse, marks the ships unmanned,
+    And sees the empty harbour and the shore.
+    While far off on the solitary strand
+    The Trojan dames sat sorrowful, and o'er
+    The deep sea gazed, and, gazing, evermore
+    Wept for the Sire. "Ah, woe! the fields of foam!
+    The waste of waters for the wearied oar!
+    Oh! for a city and a certain home;
+A rest for sea-worn souls, for weary 'tis to roam!"
+
+LXXXIV. So, not unversed in mischief, from the skies
+    Amidst the gathered matrons down she came,
+    In raiment and in face to mortal eyes
+    No more a Goddess, but an aged dame,
+    The wife of Doryclus, of Tmarian fame.
+    E'en venerable Beroe, once blest
+    With rank, and children and a noble name.
+    So changed in semblance, the celestial guest
+Mixed with the Dardan dames, and thus the crowd addressed:
+
+LXXXV. "Oh, born to sorrow! whom th' Achaian foe
+    Dragged not to death, when Ilion was o'erthrown!
+    O hapless race! what still extremer woe
+    Doth Fortune doom the living to bemoan?
+    Since Ilion fell, seven summers nigh have flown,
+    And we o'er every ocean, every plain,
+    Past cheerless rocks, and under stars unknown,
+    Oft and so oft are driven, as in vain
+Italia's shores we grasp, and welter on the main!
+
+LXXXVI. "'Tis Eryx' land, Acestes is our host.
+    What hinders for the homeless here to gain
+    A home--an Ilion for the one we lost?
+    O fatherland! O home-gods saved in vain,
+    If still in endless exile we remain!
+    Ah! nevermore shall I behold with joy
+    A Xanthus and a Simois again,
+    Our Hector's streams? ne'er hear the name of Troy?
+Up! let devouring flames these ill-starred ships destroy!
+
+LXXXVII. "Methought in sleep, Cassandra's ghost came near,
+    With torches in her hands, and bade me seize
+    The flaming firebrands, and exclaimed: 'See, here
+    Thy Troy, the home that destiny decrees!
+    The hour is ripe; such prodigies as these
+    Brook not delay. Lo! here to Neptune rise
+    Four altars. He, the Sovereign of the seas,
+    Himself the firebrands and the will supplies.'"
+Then straight, with arm drawn back, and fury in her eyes,
+
+LXXXVIII. She waved a torch, and hurled it. Dazed with fear,
+    The women trembled as she tossed the flame.
+    Then one who nursed through many a bygone year
+    The sons of Priam--Pyrgo was the dame,--
+    "No Trojan this, nor Beroe her name,
+    The wife of Doryclus. Full sure I ween
+    Immortal birth her sparkling eyes proclaim.
+    What breathing beauty! what celestial sheen!
+Mark her majestic voice, and more than mortal mien!
+
+LXXXIX. "Myself but now left Beroe, worn out
+    With sickness, grieving in her heart to miss
+    These funeral honours to our Sire."--In doubt
+    They waver, and with eyes that bode amiss
+    Look towards the vessels and the blue abyss
+    Of ocean, torn in spirit 'twixt the love
+    Of realms that shall be and the land that is.
+    On even wings the goddess soared above,
+And with her rainbow vast the cloudy drift she clove.
+
+XC. Then, by the monstrous prodigy dismayed,
+    And driven by madness, forth the matrons fare
+    With shouts and shrieks. The houses they invade,
+    And living embers from the hearthstones tear,
+    With impious hands these strip the altars bare,
+    And boughs, and leaves and lighted brands they cast
+    In heaps, and fuel for the flames prepare.
+    O'er bench and oar, from painted keel to mast,
+The Fire-god raves at will, and rides upon the blast.
+
+XCI. Meanwhile, with tidings of the fleet in flames,
+    Swift posts Eumelus. To the tomb he hies
+    Of old Anchises, and the crowded games.
+    Back look the Trojans, and with awe-struck eyes
+    See the dark ash-cloud floating through the skies.
+    And, as his troop Ascanius joyed to lead
+    In mimic fight, so keen, when danger cries,
+    First to the wildered camp he spurs his steed;
+And breathless guardians fail to stay his headlong speed.
+
+XCII. "What madness this, poor women?" he exclaims,
+    "What mean ye now? No camp of Argive foe,
+    _Your_ hopes ye doom to perish in the flames.
+    See your Ascanius!"--At his feet below
+    He flung the helmet, that adorned his brow
+    When mimic fight he marshalled. Hurrying came
+    AEneas, hurrying came the host; but lo!
+    The shore lies bare; this way and that each dame
+Slinks to the woods and caves, if aught can hide her shame.
+
+XCIII. All loathe the daylight and the deed unblest.
+    Sobered, they know their countrymen at last,
+    And Juno's power is shaken from each breast.
+    Not so the flames; with gathered strength and fast
+    Onward still swept the unconquerable blast.
+    Forth puffed between the timbers, drenched in vain,
+    The smoke-jets from the smouldering tow. Down passed
+    From keel to cabin the devouring bane.
+Nor floods nor heroes' strength the mastering flames restrain.
+
+XCIV. Then good AEneas from his shoulders threw
+    His robe, and heavenward stretched his hands in prayer;
+    "Great Jove! if spares thy vengeance to pursue
+    Troy's children to the uttermost, if e'er
+    The toils of mortals move thy ancient care,
+    Preserve this feeble remnant, and command
+    These flames from further havoc to forbear;
+    Else, if my deeds deserve it, bare thine hand,
+Launch thine avenging bolt, and slay me as I stand."
+
+XCV. Scarce spake he, when in torrents comes the rain.
+    Darkly the tempest riots, and the roar
+    Of thunder shakes the mountains and the plain.
+    Black storm-clouds from the thickening South sweep o'er
+    The darkened heavens, and down a deluge pour.
+    Drenched are the decks; the timbers, charr'd with heat,
+    Are soaked and smoulder, till the fire no more
+    Raves, and the flames are conquered, and the fleet,
+Save four alone, survives the fiery plague complete.
+
+XCVI. Sore-struck, AEneas in his breast debates
+    This way and that, still doubtful to remain
+    In fields Sicilian, mindless of the Fates,
+    Or strive the shores of Italy to gain,
+    Then aged Nautes, wisest of his train,
+    Taught by Tritonian Pallas to unfold
+    What wrathful gods or destinies ordain,
+    In prescient utterance his response unrolled,
+And thus with cheerful words the anxious chief consoled:
+
+XCVII. "O Goddess-born, where Fate directs the way,
+    'Tis ours to follow. Who the best can bear,
+    Best conquers Fortune, be the doom what may.
+    A friend thou hast, Acestes; bid him share
+    And be a willing partner of thy care.
+    He too is Trojan, and of seed divine.
+    Give him the lost ships' crews, and whosoe'er
+    Is faint or feeble, to his charge consign,
+Old men and sea-sick dames, who glory's quest decline.
+
+XCVIII. "Here let them rest, who care not for renown,
+    And build their walls, and, if our host assent,
+    Acesta from Acestes name the town."
+    Such counsel cheered him, but his breast is rent
+    With trouble, musing on the dark event.
+    And now black Night, upon her course midway,
+    With ebon car had climbed the steep ascent,
+    When, gliding down before him as he lay,
+His father's phantom stood, and speaking, seemed to say:
+
+XCIX. "O dearer than the life, while life remained,
+    My son, by Troy's hard destinies sore tried,
+    Hither I come at Jove's command, who deigned
+    Thy burning ships to save, and pitying-eyed
+    Beholds thy sorrows. Hear then, nor deride
+    The grey-haired Nautes, for his words are good.
+    Choice youths, the bravest, for thy quest provide.
+    Stout hearts ye need in Italy, for rude
+And rough the Latin race, and hard to be subdued.
+
+C.  "But seek thou first the nether realms of Dis,
+    And through Avernus tread the dark domain
+    To meet me. Not in Tartarus' abyss,
+    Sad shades of sin and never-ending pain,
+    I dwell, but on the blest Elysian plain
+    Join with the just in fellowship. Now heed:
+    There the chaste Sibyl, if with victims slain,
+    Black sheep, ye seek her, shall thy footsteps lead,
+And show thy destined walls and progeny decreed.
+
+CI. "And now farewell; for dewy Night midway
+    Wheels on her course, and from the Orient sky
+    Fierce beats the breathing of the steeds of Day."
+    He spake, and melted as a mist on high.
+    "Ah, whither," cried AEneas, "wilt thou fly?
+    Who tears thee hence? Where hurriest thou again?"
+    So saying, he wakes the embers ere they die.
+    And offering frankincense and sacred grain,
+Troy's household gods adores, and hoary Vesta's fane.
+
+CII. Forthwith he tells Acestes, then the crews,
+    Jove's will, his father's counsel and his own.
+    All vote assent, nor doth his host refuse.
+    No tarrying now; they write the matrons down,
+    And all who faint or care not for renown
+    They leave behind,--the idlers of each crew,
+    But willing settlers in the new-planned town.
+    These the charred timbers and the thwarts renew,
+Shape oars and fit the ropes; a gallant band, but few.
+
+CIII. AEneas with a ploughshare marks the town,
+    And, homes allotting, gives each place a name,
+    Here Troy, there Ilion. Pleased to wear the crown,
+    A forum good Acestes hastes to frame,
+    And laws to gathered senators proclaim.
+    Rear'd high on Eryx, to the stars ascends
+    A temple, to Idalian Venus' fame.
+    A priest Anchises' sepulchre attends,
+A grove's far sacred shade his hallowed dust defends.
+
+CIV. The rites are paid, the nine-days' feast is o'er,
+    Smooth lies the deep, and Southern winds invite
+    The mariners. Along the winding shore
+    Loud rise the sounds of sorrow, day and night,
+    Where friends, clasped close in lingering undelight,
+    Weep at the thought of parting. Matrons, ay,
+    And men, who lately shuddered at the sight,
+    And loathed the name of Ocean, scorn to stay,
+And willing hearts now brave the long, laborious way.
+
+CV. Kindly AEneas cheers them, and with tears
+    Leaves to their King, then, parting, gives command
+    A lamb to slay to tempest, and three steers
+    To Eryx. So they loosen from the land.
+    He on the prow, a charger in his hand,
+    Flings forth the entrails, and outpours the wine,
+    And, crowned with olive chaplet, takes his stand.
+    Up-springs the favouring stern breeze, as in line
+With emulous sweep of oars, they brush the level brine.
+
+CVI. Then Venus, torn with anguish and desire,
+    Spake thus to Neptune, and her grief confessed:
+    "O Neptune, Juno's unrelenting ire,
+    The quenchless malice, that consumes her breast,
+    Constrains me thus to urge a suppliant's quest;
+    And stoop, with humbled majesty, to sue.
+    Her neither piety nor Jove's behest
+    Nor time, nor Fate can soften or subdue,
+Still doth immortal hate the Phrygian race pursue.
+
+CVII. "'Tis not enough their city to destroy,
+    And wear their remnant with remorseless pain,
+    Needs must she trample on the dust of Troy.
+    She best, forsooth, her fury can explain.
+    But thou,--thou know'st how on the Libyan main,--
+    Thine eyes beheld it from thy throne on high,--
+    Lately she stirred the tumult, and in vain
+    Armed with AEolian tempests, sea and sky
+Mixed in rebellious wrath, thy sceptre to defy.
+
+CVIII. "All this she ventured in thy realm; nay more,
+    Her rage hath filled the matrons, fired the fleet,
+    And left these crews upon an alien shore,
+    Reft of their friends, and baffled of retreat.
+    O spare this Trojan remnant, I entreat;
+    Safe in thy guidance let them sail the main,
+    And scatheless reach their promised walls, and greet
+    Laurentian Tiber and the Latian plain,
+If what I ask be just, and so the Fates ordain."
+
+CIX. Then spake the Monarch of the deep: "'Tis just
+    To look for safety to my realm, that gave
+    Thee birth; and well have I deserved thy trust,
+    Who oft have stilled the raging wind and wave;
+    Nor less on land have interposed, to save--
+    Xanthus and Simois I attest again--
+    Thy darling son, when back Achilles drave
+    Troy's breathless host, and rivers, choked with slain,
+Groaned, ay, and Xanthus scarce could struggle to the main.
+
+CX. "Then, as with adverse Gods and feebler power
+    He faced Pelides, in a cloud I caught
+    Thy favourite, albeit 'twas the hour
+    When, wroth with perjured Ilion, I sought
+    To raze the walls these very hands had wrought.
+    Fear not; unaltered doth my will remain.
+    Safe shall he be into this haven brought.
+    One, only one, for many shall be slain;
+One in the deep thy son shall look for, but in vain."
+
+CXI. So saying, he soothed the Goddess, and in haste
+    His steeds with golden harness yoked amain.
+    The bridle and the foaming bit he placed,
+    To curb their fury, and outflung the rein.
+    Lightly he flies along the watery plain,
+    Borne in his azure chariot. Far and nigh
+    Beneath his thundering wheels the heaving main
+    Sinks, and the waves are tranquil, and on high
+Through flying storm-drift shines the immeasurable sky.
+
+CXII. Behind him throng, in many a motley group,
+    His followers--monsters of enormous chine,
+    Sea-shouldering whales, and Glaucus' aged troop,
+    Paloemon, Ino's progeny divine,
+    Swift Tritons, born to gambol in the brine,
+    And Phorcus' finny legions. Melite,
+    And virgin Panopoea leftward shine,
+    Thetis, Nesaee, daughters of the sea,
+Spio, Thalia fair, and bright Cymodoce.
+
+CXIII. Then o'er AEneas' spirit, racked with fear,
+    Joy stole in gentle counterchange. He hails
+    The crews, and biddeth them the masts uprear,
+    And stretch the sheets. All, tacking, loose the brails
+    Larboard or starboard, and let go the sails,
+    And square or sideways to the breeze incline
+    The lofty sailyards. Welcome blow the gales
+    Behind them. Palinurus leads the line;
+The rest his course obey, and follow at his sign.
+
+CXIV. Damp Night well-nigh had climbed Olympus' crest;
+    Each slumbering mariner his limbs unbends,
+    Stretched by his oar, along the bench at rest,
+    When lo! false Sleep his feathery wings extends.
+    To guiltless Palinurus he descends,
+    Parting the scattered shadows. Down he bears
+    Delusive dreams, and cunning words pretends,
+    As now, in Phorbas' likeness he appears,
+Perched on the lofty stern, and whispers in his ears:
+
+CXV. "Son of Iasus! see, the tide that flows
+    Bears thee along; behind thee breathes apace
+    The stern breeze, and the hour invites repose.
+    Rest now, and cheat thy wearied eyes a space,
+    Myself will take the rudder in thy place."
+    "Nay," quoth the pilot, with half-lifted eyes,
+    "Shall I put faith in ocean's treacherous face,
+    And trust AEneas to the flattering skies,
+I, whom their smiles oft fooled, but folly hath made wise?"
+
+CXVI. So saying, he grasped the tiller, nor his hold
+    Relaxed, nor ever from the stars withdrew
+    His steadfast eyes, still watchful when behold!
+    A slumberous bough the god revealed to view,
+    Thrice dipt in Styx, and drenched with Lethe's dew.
+    Then, lightly sprinkling, o'er the pilot's brows
+    The drowsy dewdrops from the leaves he threw.
+    Dim grow his eyes; the languor of repose
+Steals o'er his faltering sense, the lingering eyelids close.
+
+CXVII. Scarce now his limbs were loosened by the spell,
+    Down weighed the god, and in the rolling main
+    Dashed him headforemost, clutching, as he fell,
+    Stern timbers torn, and rudder rent in twain,
+    And calling oft his comrades, but in vain.
+    This done, his wings he balanced, and away
+    Soared skyward. Natheless o'er the broad sea-plain
+    The ships sail on; safe lies the watery way,
+For Neptune's plighted words the seamen's cares allay.
+
+CXVIII. Now near the Sirens' perilous cliffs they draw,
+    White with men's bones, and hear the surf-beat side
+    Roar with hoarse thunder. Here the Sire, who saw
+    The ship was labouring, and had lost her guide,
+    Straight seized the helm, and steered her through the tide,
+    While, grieved in heart, with many a groan and sigh,
+    He mourned for Palinurus. "Ah," he cried,
+    "For faith reposed on flattering sea and sky,
+Left on an unknown shore, thy naked corpse must lie!"
+
+
+
+
+BOOK SIX
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+Arrived at Cumae AEneas visits the Sibyl's shrine, and, after prayer
+and sacrifice to Apollo, asks access to the nether-world to visit
+his father (1-162). He must first pluck for Proserpine the golden
+bough and bury a dead comrade (163-198). After the death and burial
+of Misenus, AEneas finds and gathers the golden bough (199-261).
+Preparation and Invocation (262-328). The start (329-333). The
+"dreadful faces" that guard the outskirts of Hell. Charon's ferry
+and the unburied dead (334-405). Palinurus approaches and entreats
+burial. Passing by Charon and Cerberus, they see the phantoms of
+suicides, of children, of lovers, and experience Dido's disdain
+(406-559). From Greek and Trojan shades Deiphobus is singled out to
+tell his story (560-644). The Sibyl hurries AEneas on past the
+approach to Tartarus, describing by the way its rulers and its
+horrors. Finally, they reach Elysium and gain entrance (645-757).
+The search among the shades of the Blessed for Anchises, and the
+meeting between father and son (758-828). Anchises explains the
+mystery of the Transmigration of Souls, and the book closes with the
+revelation to AEneas of the future greatness of Rome, whose heroes,
+from the days of the kings to the times of Augustus, pass in
+procession before him (829-1071). He is then dismissed through the
+Ivory Gate, and sails on his way to Caieta (1072-1080).
+
+
+I.  Weeping he speaks, and gives his fleet the rein,
+    And glides at length to the Euboean strand
+    Of Cumae. There, with prows towards the main,
+    Safe-fastened by the biting anchors, stand
+    The vessels, and the round sterns line the land.
+    Forth on the shore, in eager haste to claim
+    Hesperia's welcome, leaps a youthful band.
+    These search the flint-stones for the seeds of flame,
+Those point to new-found streams, or scour the woods for game.
+
+II. But good AEneas seeks the castled height
+    And temple, to the great Apollo dear,
+    And the vast cave where, hidden far from sight
+    Within her sanctuary dark and drear,
+    Dwells the dread Sibyl, whom the Delian seer
+    Inspires with soul and wisdom to unfold
+    The things to come.--So now, approaching near
+    Through Trivia's grove, the temple they behold,
+And entering, see the roof all glittering with gold.
+
+III. Fame is, that Daedalus, adventuring forth
+    On rapid wings, from Minos' realms in flight,
+    Trusted the sky, and to the frosty North
+    Swam his strange way, till on the tower-girt height
+    Of Chalcis gently he essayed to light.
+    Here, touching first the wished-for land again,
+    To thee, great Phoebus, and thy guardian might,
+    He vowed, and bade as offerings to remain,
+The oarage of his wings, and built a stately fane.
+
+IV. Androgeos' death is graven on the gate;
+    There stand the sons of Cecrops, doomed each year
+    With seven victims to atone his fate.
+    The lots are drawn; the fatal urn is near.
+    Here, o'er the deep the Gnossian fields appear,
+    The bull--the cruel passion--the embrace
+    Stol'n from Pasiphae--all the tale is here;
+    The Minotaur, half human, beast in face,
+Record of nameless lust, and token of disgrace.
+
+V.  There, toil-wrought house and labyrinthine grove,
+    With tangled maze, too intricate to tread,
+    But that, in pity for the queen's great love,
+    Its secret Daedalus revealed, and led
+    Her lover's blinded footsteps with a thread.
+    There, too, had sorrow not the wish denied,
+    Thy name and fame, poor Icarus, were read.
+    Twice in the gold to carve thy fate he tried,
+And twice the father's hands dropped faltering to his side.
+
+VI. So they in gazing had the time beguiled,
+    But now, returning from his quest, comes near
+    Achates, with Deiphobe, the child
+    Of Glaucus, Phoebus' and Diana's seer.
+    "Not this," she cries, "the time for tarrying here
+    For shows like these. Go, hither bring with speed
+    Seven ewes, the choicest, and with each a steer
+    Unyoked, in honour of the God to bleed."
+So to the Chief she spake, and straight his followers heed.
+
+VII. Into the lofty temple now with speed,--
+    A huge cave hollowed in the mountain's side,--
+    The priestess calls the Teucrians. Thither lead
+    A hundred doors, a hundred entries wide,
+    A hundred voices from the rock inside
+    Peal forth, the Sibyl answering. So they
+    Had reached the threshold, when the maiden cried,
+    "Now 'tis the time to seek the fates and pray;
+Behold, behold the God!" and standing there, straightway,
+
+VIII. Her colour and her features change; loose streams
+    Her hair disordered, and her heart distrest
+    Swells with wild frenzy. Larger now she seems,
+    Her voice not mortal, as her heaving breast
+    Pants, with the approaching Deity possest.
+    "Pray, Trojan," peals her warning utterance, "pray!
+    Cease not, AEneas, nor withhold thy quest,
+    Nor stint thy vows. While dumbly ye delay,
+Ne'er shall its yawning doors the spell-bound house display."
+
+IX. She ceased: at once an icy chill ran through
+    The sturdy Trojans. From his inmost heart
+    Thus prayed the King: "O Phoebus, wont to view
+    With pity Troy's sore travail; thou, whose art
+    True to Achilles aimed the Dardan dart,
+    How oft, thou guiding, have I tracked the main
+    Round mighty lands, to earth's remotest part
+    Massylian tribes and Libya's sandy plain:
+Scarce now the flying shores of Italy we gain.
+
+X.  "Enough, thus far Troy's destinies to bear,
+    Ye, too, at length, your anger may abate
+    And deign the race of Pergamus to spare,
+    O Gods and Goddesses, who viewed with hate
+    Troy and the glories of the Dardan state.
+    And thou, dread mistress of prophetic lore,
+    Grant us--I ask but what is due by Fate,
+    Our promised realms--that on the Latian shore
+Troy's sons and wandering gods may find a home once more.
+
+XI. "To Phoebus then and Trivia's sacred name,
+    Thy patron powers, a temple will I rear
+    Of solid marble, and due rites proclaim
+    And festal days, for votaries each year
+    The name of guardian Phoebus to revere.
+    Thee, too, hereafter in our realms await
+    Shrines of the stateliest, for thy name is dear.
+    There safe shall rest the mystic words of Fate,
+And chosen priests shall guard the oracles of state.
+
+XII. "Only to leaves commit not, priestess kind,
+    Thy verse, lest fragments of the mystic scroll
+    Fly, tost abroad, the playthings of the wind.
+    Thyself in song the oracle unroll."
+    He ceased; the seer, impatient of control,
+    Strives, like a frenzied Bacchant, in her cell,
+    To shake the mighty deity from her soul.
+    So much the more, her raging heart to quell,
+He tires the foaming mouth, and shapes her to his spell.
+
+XIII. Then yawned the hundred gates, and every door,
+    Self-opening suddenly, revealed the fane,
+    And through the air the Sibyl's answer bore:
+    "O freed from Ocean's perils, but in vain,
+    Worse evils yet upon the land remain.
+    Doubt not; Troy's sons shall reach Lavinium's shore,
+    And rule in Latium; so the Fates ordain.
+    Yet shall they rue their coming. Woes in store,
+Wars, savage wars, I see, and Tiber foam with gore.
+
+XIV. "A Xanthus there and Simois shall be seen,
+    And Doric tents; Achilles, goddess-born,
+    Shall rise anew, nor Jove's relentless Queen
+    Shall cease to vex the Teucrians night and morn.
+    Then oft shalt thou, sore straitened and forlorn,
+    All towns and tribes of Italy implore
+    To grant thee shelter from the foemen's scorn.
+    An alien bride, a foreign bed once more
+Shall bring the old, old woes, the ancient feud restore.
+
+XV. "Yield not to evils, but the bolder thou
+    Persist, defiant of misfortune's frown,
+    And take the path thy Destinies allow.
+    Hope, where unlooked for, comes thy toils to crown,
+    Thy road to safety from a Grecian town."
+    So sang the Sibyl from her echoing fane,
+    And, wrapping truth in mystery, made known
+    The dark enigmas of her frenzied strain.
+So Phoebus plied the goad, and shook the maddening rein.
+
+XVI. Soon ceased the fit, the foaming lips were still.
+    "O maiden," said AEneas, "me no more
+    Can danger startle, nor strange shape of ill.
+    All have I seen and throughly conned before.
+    One boon I beg,--since yonder are the door
+    Of Pluto, and the gloomy lakes, they tell,
+    Fed by o'erflowing Acheron,--once more
+    To see the father whom I loved so well.
+Teach me the way, and ope the sacred gates of hell.
+
+XVII. "Him on these shoulders, in the days ago,
+    A thousand darts behind us, did I bear
+    Safe through the thickest of the flames and foe.
+    He, partner of my travels, loved to share
+    The threats of ocean and the storms of air,
+    Though weak, yet strong beyond the lot of age.
+    'Twas he who bade me, with prevailing prayer,
+    Approach thee humbly, and thy care engage,
+Pity the sire and son, and Trojan hearts assuage.
+
+XVIII. "For thou can'st all, nor Hecate for naught
+    Hath set thee o'er Avernus' groves to reign.
+    If Orpheus from the shades his bride up-brought,
+    Trusting his Thracian harp and sounding strain,
+    If Pollux could from Pluto's drear domain
+    His brother by alternate death reclaim,
+    And tread the road to Hades o'er again
+    Oft and so oft--why great Alcides name?
+Why Theseus? I, as they, Jove's ancestry can claim."
+
+XIX. So prayed AEneas, clinging to the shrine,
+    When thus the prophetess: "O Trojan Knight,
+    Born of Anchises, and of seed divine,
+    Down to Avernus the descent is light,
+    The gate of Dis stands open day and night.
+    But upward thence thy journey to retrace,
+    There lies the labour; 'tis a task of might,
+    By few achieved, and those of heavenly race,
+Whom shining worth extolled or Jove hath deigned to grace.
+
+XX. "Thick woods and shades the middle space invest,
+    And black Cocytus girds the drear abode.
+    Yet, if such passion hath thy soul possessed,
+    If so thou longest to indulge thy mood,
+    And madly twice to cross the Stygian flood,
+    And visit twice black Tartarus, mark the way
+    Sacred to nether Juno, in a wood,
+    With golden stem and foliage, lurks a spray,
+And trees and darksome dales surrounding shroud the day.
+
+XXI. "Yet none the shades can visit, till he tear
+    That golden growth, the gift of Pluto's queen,
+    And show the passport she decreed to bear.
+    One plucked, another in its place is seen,
+    As bright and burgeoning with golden green.
+    Search then aloft, and when thou see'st the spray,
+    Reach forth and pluck it; willingly, I ween,
+    If Fate shall call thee, 'twill thy touch obey;
+Else steel nor strength of arm shall rend the prize away.
+
+XXII. "Mark yet--alas! thou know'st not--yonder lies
+    Thy friend's dead body, and pollutes the shore.
+    While thou the Fates art asking to advise,
+    And lingering here, a suppliant, at our door.
+    Nay, first thy comrade to his home restore,
+    And build a tomb, and bring black cattle; they
+    The stain shall expiate; so the Stygian shore
+    Shalt thou behold, and tread the sunless way,
+Which living feet ne'er trod, and mounted to the day."
+
+XXIII. She ended. From the cave AEneas went,
+    With down-dropt eyes and melancholy mien,
+    Inly revolving many a dark event.
+    Trusty Achates at his side is seen,
+    Moody alike, each measured step between
+    In musing converse framing phantasies,
+    What lifeless comrade could the priestess mean?
+    Whom to be buried? When before their eyes,
+Stretched on the barren beach the dead Misenus lies,
+
+XXIV. Dead with dishonour, in unseemly plight,
+    Misenus, son of AEolus, whom beside
+    None better knew with brazen blast to light
+    The flames of war, and wake the warrior's pride.
+    Once Hector's co-mate, proud at Hector's side
+    To wind the clarion and the sword to wield.
+    When, stricken by Achilles, Hector died,
+    AEneas then he followed to the field,
+Loth to a meaner lord his fealty to yield.
+
+XXV. Now while a challenge to the gods he blew,
+    And made the waves his hollow shell resound,
+    Him Triton, jealous--if the tale be true--
+    Caught unaware, and in the surges drowned
+    Among the rocks.--There now the corpse they found.
+    Loud groaned AEneas, and a mournful cry
+    Rose from the Trojans, as they gazed around.
+    Then, filled with tears, the Sibyl's task they ply,
+And rear a wood-built pile and altar to the sky.
+
+XXVI. Into a grove of aged trees they go,
+    The wild-beasts' lair. The holm-oak rings amain,
+    Smit with the axe, the pitchy pine falls low,
+    Sharp wedges cleave the beechen core in twain,
+    The mountain ash comes rolling to the plain.
+    Foremost himself, accoutred as the rest,
+    AEneas cheered them, toiling with his train;
+    Then, musing sadly, and with pensive breast,
+Gazed on the boundless grove, and thus his prayer addressed:
+
+XXVII. "O in this grove could I behold the tree
+    With golden bough; since true, alas, too true,
+    Misenus, hath the priestess sung of thee!"
+    He spake, when, lighting on the sward, down flew
+    Two doves. With joy his mother's birds he knew,
+    "Lead on, blest guides, along the air," he prayed,
+    "If way there be, the precious bough to view,
+    Whose golden leaves the teeming soil o'ershade;
+O mother, solve my doubts, nor stint the needed aid."
+
+XXVIII. So saying, he stays his footsteps, fain to heed
+    What signs they give, and whitherward their flight.
+    Awhile they fly, awhile they stop to feed,
+    Then, fluttering, keep within the range of sight,
+    Till, coming where Avernus, dark as night,
+    Gapes, with rank vapours from its depths uprolled,
+    Aloft they soar, and through the liquid height
+    Dart to the tree, where, wondrous to behold,
+The varying green sets forth the glitter of the gold.
+
+XXIX. As in the woods, in winter's cold, is seen,
+    Sown on an alien tree, the mistletoe
+    To bloom afresh with foliage newly green,
+    And round the tapering boles its arms to throw,
+    Laden with yellow fruitage, even so
+    The oak's dark boughs the golden leaves display,
+    So the foil rustles in the breezes low.
+    Quickly AEneas plucks the lingering spray,
+And to the Sibyl bears the welcome gift away.
+
+XXX. Nor less the dead Misenus they deplore,
+    And honours to the thankless dust assign.
+    A stately pyre they build upon the shore,
+    Rich with oak-timbers and the resinous pine,
+    And sombre foliage in the sides entwine.
+    In front, the cypress marks the fatal soil,
+    Above, they leave the warrior's arms to shine.
+    These heat the water, till the caldrons boil,
+And wash the stiffened limbs, and fill the wounds with oil.
+
+XXXI. Loud is the wailing; then with many a tear
+    They lay him on the bed, and o'er him throw
+    His purple robes. These lift the massive bier;
+    Those, as of yore--sad ministry of woe--
+    With eyes averted, hold the torch below.
+    Oil, spice and viands, in promiscuous heap,
+    They pour and pile upon the fire; and now,
+    The embers crumbling and the flames asleep,
+With draughts of ruddy wine the thirsty ash they steep.
+
+XXXII. And Cornyaeus in a brazen urn
+    Enshrined the bones, upgathered in a caul,
+    And bearing round pure water, thrice in turn
+    From olive branch the lustral dew lets fall,
+    And, sprinkling, speaks the latest words of all.
+    A lofty mound AEneas hastes to frame,
+    Crowned with his oar and trumpet, 'neath a tall
+    And airy cliff, which still Misenus' name
+Preserves, and ages keep his everlasting fame.
+
+XXXIII. This done, AEneas hastens to obey
+    The Sibyl's hest.--There was a monstrous cave,
+    Rough, shingly, yawning wide-mouthed to the day,
+    Sheltered from access by the lake's dark wave
+    And shadowing forests, gloomy as the grave.
+    O'er that dread space no flying thing could ply
+    Its wings unjeopardied (whence Grecians gave
+    The name "Aornos"), such a stench on high
+Rose from the poisonous jaws, and filled the vaulted sky.
+
+XXXIV. Here four black oxen, as the maid divine
+    Commands them, forth to sacrifice are led.
+    Over their brows she pours the sacred wine,
+    Then plucks the hairs that sprouted on the head
+    And burns them, as the first-fruits to the dead,
+    Calling aloud on Hecate, whose reign
+    In Heaven and Erebus is owned with dread.
+    These stab the victims in the throat, and drain
+In bowls the steaming blood that gushes from the slain.
+
+XXXV. A black-fleeced lamb AEneas slays, to please
+    The Furies' mother and her sister dread,
+    A barren cow to Proserpine decrees.
+    Then to the Stygian monarch of the dead
+    The midnight altars he began to spread.
+    The bulls' whole bodies on the flames he laid,
+    And fat oil on the broiling entrails shed,
+    When lo! as Morn her opening beams displayed,
+Loud rumblings shook the ground, the wooded hill-tops swayed,
+
+XXXVI. And hell-dogs baying through the gloom, proclaimed
+    The Goddess near. "Back, back, unhallowed crew,
+    And quit the grove!" the prophetess exclaimed,
+    "Thou, bare thy blade, and take the road in view.
+    Now, Trojan, for a stalwart heart and true;
+    Firmness and steadiness!" No more she cried,
+    But back into the open cave withdrew,
+    Fired with new frenzy. He, with fearless stride,
+Treads on the Sibyl's heels, rejoicing in his guide.
+
+XXXVII. O silent Shades, and ye, the powers of Hell,
+    Chaos and Phlegethon, wide realms of night,
+    What ear hath heard, permit the tongue to tell,
+    High matter, veiled in darkness, to indite.--
+    On through the gloomy shade, in darkling plight,
+    Through Pluto's solitary halls they stray,
+    As travellers, whom the Moon's unkindly light
+    Baffles in woods, when, on a lonely way,
+Jove shrouds the heavens, and night has turned the world to grey.
+
+XXXVIII. Before the threshold, in the jaws of Hell,
+    Grief spreads her pillow, with remorseful Care.
+    There sad Old Age and pale Diseases dwell,
+    And misconceiving Famine, Want and Fear,
+    Terrific shapes, and Death and Toil appear.
+    Death's kinsman, Sleep, and Joys of sinful kind,
+    And deadly War crouch opposite, and here
+    The Furies' iron chamber, Discord blind
+And Strife, her viperous locks with gory fillets twined.
+
+XXXIX. High in the midst a giant elm doth fling
+    The shadows of its aged arms. There dwell
+    False Dreams and, nestling, to the foliage cling,
+    And monstrous shapes, too numerous to tell,
+    Keep covert, stabled in the porch of Hell.
+    The beast of Lerna, hissing in his ire,
+    Huge Centaurs, two-formed Scyllas, fierce and fell,
+    Briareus hundred-handed, Gorgons dire,
+Harpies, the triple Shade, Chimaera fenced with fire.
+
+XL. At once AEneas, stirred by sudden fear,
+    Clutches his sword, and points the naked blade
+    To affront them. Then, but that the Heaven-taught seer
+    Warned him that each was but an empty shade,
+    A shapeless soul, vain onset he had made,
+    And slashed the shadows. So he checked his hand,
+    And past the gateway in the gloom they strayed
+    Through Tartarus to Acheron's dark strand,
+Where thick the whirlpool boils, and voids the seething sand
+
+XLI. Into the deep Cocytus. Charon there,
+    Grim ferryman, stands sentry. Mean his guise,
+    His chin a wilderness of hoary hair,
+    And like a flaming furnace stare his eyes.
+    Hung in a loop around his shoulders lies
+    A filthy gaberdine. He trims the sail,
+    And, pole in hand, across the water plies
+    His steel-grey shallop with the corpses pale,
+Old, but a god's old age has left him green and hale.
+
+XLII. There shoreward rushed a multitude, the shades
+    Of noble heroes, numbered with the dead,
+    Boys, husbands, mothers and unwedded maids,
+    Sons on the pile before their parents spread,
+    As leaves in number, which the trees have shed
+    When Autumn's frosts begin to chill the air,
+    Or birds, that from the wintry blasts have fled
+    And over seas to sunnier shores repair.
+So thick the foremost stand, and, stretching hands of prayer,
+
+XLIII. Plead for a passage. Now the boatman stern
+    Takes these, now those, then thrusts the rest away,
+    And vainly for the distant bank they yearn.
+    Then spake AEneas, for with strange dismay
+    He viewed the tumult, "Prithee, maiden, say
+    What means this thronging to the river-side?
+    What seek the souls? Why separate, do they
+    Turn back, while others sweep the leaden tide?
+Who parts the shades, what doom the difference can decide?"
+
+XLIV. Thereto in brief the aged priestess spake:
+    "Son of Anchises, and the god's true heir,
+    Thou see'st Cocytus and the Stygian lake,
+    By whose dread majesty no god will dare
+    His solemn oath attested to forswear.
+    These are the needy, who a burial crave;
+    The ferryman is Charon; they who fare
+    Across the flood, the buried; none that wave
+Can traverse, ere his bones have rested in the grave.
+
+XLV. "A hundred years they wander in the cold
+    Around these shores, till at the destined date
+    The wished-for pools, admitted, they behold."
+    Sad stood AEneas, pitying their estate,
+    And, thoughtful, pondered their unequal fate.
+    Leucaspis there, and Lycia's chief he viewed,
+    Orontes, joyless, tombless, whom of late,
+    Sea-tost from Troy, the blustering South pursued,
+And ship and crew at once whelmed in the rolling flood.
+
+XLVI. There paced in sorrow Palinurus' ghost,
+    Who, lately from the Libyan shore their guide,
+    Watching the stars, headforemost from his post
+    Had fallen, and perished in the wildering tide.
+    Him, known, but dimly in the gloom descried,
+    The Dardan hails, "O Palinurus! who
+    Of all the gods hath torn thee from our side?
+    Speak, for Apollo, never known untrue,
+This once hath answered false, and mocked with hopes undue.
+
+XLVII. "Safe--so he sang--should'st thou escape the sea,
+    And scatheless to Ausonia's coast attain.
+    Lo, this, his plighted promise!"--"Nay," said he,
+    "Nor answered Phoebus' oracle in vain,
+    Nor did a god o'erwhelm me in the main.
+    For while I ruled the rudder, charged to keep
+    Our course, and steered thee o'er the billowy plain,
+    Sudden, I slipped, and, falling prone and steep,
+Snapped with sheer force the helm, and dragged it to the deep.
+
+XLVIII. "Naught--let the rough seas witness--but for thee
+    I feared, lest rudderless, her pilot lost,
+    Your ship should fail in such a towering sea.
+    Three wintry nights, nipt with the chilling frost,
+    Upon the boundless waters I was tost,
+    And on the fourth dawn from a wave at last
+    Descried Italia. Slowly to her coast
+    I swam, and clutching at the rock, held fast,
+Cumbered with dripping clothes, and deemed the worst o'erpast.
+
+XLIX. "When lo! the savage folk, with sword and stave,
+    Set on me, weening to have found rich prey.
+    And now my bones lie weltering on the wave,
+    Now on strange shores winds blow them far away.
+    O! by the memory of thy sire, I pray,
+    By young Iulus, and his hope so fair,
+    By heaven's sweet breath and light of gladsome day,
+    Relieve my misery, assuage my care,
+Sail back to Velia's port, great conqueror, and there
+
+L.  "Strew earth upon me, for the task is light;
+    Or, if thy goddess-mother deign to show
+    Some path--for never in the god's despite
+    O'er these dread waters would'st thou dare to go,
+    Thine aid in pity on a wretch bestow;
+    Reach forth thy hand, and bear me to my rest,
+    Dead with the dead to ease me of my woe."
+    He spake, and him the prophetess addressed:
+"O Palinurus! whence so impious a request?
+
+LI. "Think'st thou the Stygian waters to explore
+    Unburied, and the Furies' flood to see,
+    And reach unbidden yon relentless shore?
+    Hope not by prayer to bend the Fates' decree,
+    But take this comfort to thy misery;
+    The neighbouring towns, and people far and near,
+    Compelled by prodigies, thy ghost shall free,
+    And load thy tomb with offerings year by year,
+And Palinurus' name for aye the place shall bear."
+
+LII. These words relieved his heaviness; joy came
+    Upon his saddened spirit, pleased to hear
+    The well-known land remembered by his name.
+    Thus on they journey, and the stream draw near;
+    Whom when the Stygian boatman saw appear,
+    As shoreward through the silent grove they stray,
+    With stern rebuke he challenged them: "Beware;
+    Stand off; approach not, but your purpose say;
+What brought you here, whoe'er ye come in armed array?
+
+LIII. "Here Shades inhabit,--Sleep and drowsy Night,--
+    I may not steer the living to yon shore.
+    Small joy was mine, when, in the gods' despite,
+    Alive Alcides o'er the stream I bore,
+    And Theseus and Pirithous, though more
+    Than men in prowess, nor of mortal clay.
+    One tried to seize Hell's guardian, and before
+    Our monarch's throne to chain the trembling prey;
+These from her lord's own bed to drag the queen to day."
+
+LIV. Briefly the seer Amphrysian spake again:
+    "No guile these arms intend, nor open fight;
+    Fear not; still may the monster in his den
+    With endless howl the bloodless ghosts affright,
+    And chaste Proserpine guard her uncle's right.
+    Duteous and brave, his father's shade to view,
+    Descends the famed AEneas; if the sight
+    Of love so great is powerless to subdue,
+Mark this,"--and from her vest the fateful gift she drew.
+
+LV. Down fell his wrath: the venerable bough,
+    So long unseen, with wonderment he eyed;
+    Then, shoreward turning with his cold-blue prow,
+    From bench and gangway thrusts the shades aside,
+    And takes the great AEneas and his guide.
+    The stitched bark, groaning with the load it bore,
+    Gapes at each seam, and drinks the plenteous tide,
+    Till Prince and Prophetess, borne safely o'er,
+Stand on the dank, grey ooze and grim, unsightly shore.
+
+LVI. Crouched in a fronting cave, huge Cerberus wakes
+    These kingdoms with his three-mouthed bark. His head
+    The priestess marked, all bristling now with snakes,
+    And flung a sop of honied drugs and bread.
+    He, famine-stung, with triple jaws dispread,
+    The morsel snaps, then prone along the cave
+    Lies stretched on earth, with loosened limbs, as dead.
+    The sentry lulled, AEneas, blithe and brave,
+Seizes the pass, and leaves the irremeable wave.
+
+LVII. Loud shrieks are heard, and wails of the distrest,
+    The souls of babes, that on the threshold cry,
+    Reft of sweet life, and ravished from the breast,
+    And early plunged in bitter death. Hard by
+    Are those, whom slanderous charges doomed to die.
+    Not without judgment these abodes they win.
+    Here, urn in hand, dread Minos sits to try
+    The charge anew; he summons from within
+The silent court, and learns each several life and sin.
+
+LVIII. And next are those, who, hateful of the day,
+    With guiltless hands their sorrowing lives have ta'en,
+    And miserably flung their souls away.
+    How gladly now, in upper air again,
+    Would they endure their poverty and pain!
+    It may not be. The Fates their doom decide
+    Past hope, and bind them to this sad domain.
+    Dark round them rolls the sea, unlovely tide;
+Ninefold the waves of Styx those dreary realms divide.
+
+LIX. Not far off stretch the Mourning Meads, where those
+    Whom cruel Love hath wasted with despair,
+    In myrtle groves and alleys hide their woes,
+    Nor Death itself relieves them of their care.
+    Lo, Phaedra, Procris, Eriphyle there,
+    Baring the breast by filial hands imbrued,
+    Evadne, and Pasiphae, and fair
+    Laodamia in the crowd he viewed,
+And Caeneus, maid, then man, and now a maid renewed.
+
+LX. There through the wood Phoenician Dido strayed,
+    Fresh from her wound. Whom when AEneas knew,
+    Scarce seen, though near, amid the doubtful shade,
+    As one who views, or only seems to view,
+    The clouded moon rise when the month is new,
+    Fondly he spake, while tears were in his eye:
+    "Ah, hapless Dido! then the news was true
+    That thou had'st sought the bitter end. Was I,
+Alas! the cause of death? O by the starry sky,
+
+LXI. "By Gods above, by faith, if aught, below,
+    Unwillingly, O Queen, I left thy sight.
+    The Gods, at whose compulsion now I go
+    Through these dark Shades, this realm of deepest Night,
+    These wastes of squalor, 'twas their word of might
+    That drove me forth; nor could I dream such woe
+    Was thine at my departing. Stay thy flight.
+    Whom dost thou fly? O, whither wilt thou go?
+One word--the last, sad word--one parting look bestow!"
+
+LXII. So strove AEneas, weeping, to appease
+    Her wrathful spirit. She, with down-fixt eyes
+    Turns from him, scowling, heedless of his pleas,
+    And hard as flint or marble, nor replies.
+    Then, starting, to the shadowy grove she flies,
+    Where dead Sychaeus, her old lord, renews
+    His love with hers, and sorrows with her sighs.
+    Touched by her fate, the Dardan hero views,
+And far with tearful gaze the melting shade pursues.
+
+LXIII. Thus onward to the furthest fields they strayed,
+    The haunts of heroes here doth Tydeus fare,
+    Parthenopaeus, pale Adrastus' shade.
+    And many a Dardan, wailed in upper air,
+    And fallen in war. Sighing, he sees them there,
+    Glaucus, Thersilochus and Medon slain,
+    Antenor's sons, three brethren past compare,
+    And Polyphoetes, priest of Ceres' fane,
+And brave Idaeus, still grasping the sword and rein.
+
+LXIV. All throng around, nor rest content to claim
+    One look, but linger with delight, and fain
+    Would pace beside, and question why he came.
+    But when the Greeks and Agamemnon's train
+    Beheld the hero, and his arms shone plain,
+    Huge terror shook them, and some turned to fly,
+    As erst they scattered to their ships; some strain
+    Their husky voice, and raise a feeble cry.
+The warshout mocks their throats, the gibbering accents die.
+
+LXV. There, too, he sees great Priam's son, the famed
+    Deiphobus, in evil plight forlorn;
+    A mangled shape, his visage marred and maimed.
+    His ravaged face the ruthless steel had torn,--
+    Face, nose and ears--and both his hands were shorn.
+    Him, cowering back, and striving to disown
+    The shameful tokens of his foemen's scorn,
+    Scarcely AEneas knew, then, soon as known,
+Thus, unaccosted, hailed in old, familiar tone:
+
+LXVI. "O brave Deiphobus, great Teucer's seed!
+    Whose heart had will, whose cruel hand had might
+    To wreak such punishment? Fame told, indeed,
+    That, tired with slaughter, thou had'st sunk that night
+    On heaps of mingled carnage in the fight.
+    Then on the shore I reared an empty mound,
+    And called (thy name and armour mark the site)
+    Thy shade. Thyself, dear comrade, ne'er was found.
+Vain was my parting wish to lay thee in the ground."
+
+LXVII. "Not thine the fault"; Deiphobus replied,
+    "Thy debt is rendered; thou hast dealt aright.
+    Fate, and the baseness of a Spartan bride
+    Wrought this; behold the tokens of her spite.
+    Thou know'st--too well must thou recall--that night
+    Passed in vain pleasure and delusive joy,
+    What time the fierce Steed, with a bound of might,
+    Big with armed warriors, eager to destroy,
+Leaped o'er the wall, and scaled the citadel of Troy.
+
+LXVIII. "Feigning mock orgies, round the town she led
+    Troy's dames, with shrieks that rent the midnight air,
+    And, armed with blazing cresset, at their head
+    Bright from the watch-tower made the signal flare,
+    That called the Danaan foemen from their lair.
+    I, sunk in sleep, the fatal couch had pressed,
+    Worn out with watching, and weighed down with care,
+    And, calm and deep, Death's image, gentle Rest
+Crept o'er the wearied limbs, and stilled the troubled breast.
+
+LXIX. "Meanwhile, all arms the traitress, as I slept,
+    Stole from the house, and from beneath my head
+    She took the trusty falchion, that I kept
+    To guard the chamber and the bridal bed.
+    Then, creeping to the door, with stealthy tread,
+    She lifts the latch, and beckons from within
+    To Menelaus; so, forsooth, she fled
+    In hopes a lover's gratitude to win,
+And from the past wipe out the scandal of old sin.
+
+LXX. "O noble wife! But why the tale prolong?
+    Few words were best; my chamber they invade,
+    They and Ulysses, counsellor of wrong.
+    Heaven! be these horrors on the Greeks repaid,
+    If pious lips for just revenge have prayed.
+    But thou, make answer, and in turn explain
+    What brought thee, living, to these realms of shade?
+    By heaven's command, or wandering o'er the main,
+Com'st thou to view these shores, this sunless, sad domain?"
+
+LXXI. So they in converse haply had the day
+    Consumed, when, rosy-charioted, the Morn
+    O'erpassed mid heaven on her ethereal way,
+    And thus the Sibyl doth the Dardan warn:
+    "Night lowers apace; we linger but to mourn.
+    Here part the roads; beyond the walls of Dis
+    _There_ lies for us Elysium; leftward borne
+    Thou comest to Tartarus, in whose drear abyss
+Poor sinners purge with pains the lives they lived amiss."
+
+LXXII. "Spare, priestess," cried Deiphobus, "thy wrath;
+    I will depart, and fill the tale, and hide
+    In darkness. Thou, with happier fates, go forth,
+    Our glory."--Sudden, from the Dardan's side
+    He fled. Back looked AEneas, and espied
+    Broad bastions, girt with triple wall, that frowned
+    Beneath a rock to leftward, and the tide
+    Of torrent Phlegethon, that flamed around,
+And made the beaten rocks rebellow with the sound.
+
+LXXIII. In front, a massive gateway threats the sky,
+    And posts of solid adamant upstay
+    An iron tower, firm-planted to defy
+    All force, divine or human. Night and day,
+    Sleepless Tisiphone defends the way,
+    Girt up with bloody garments. From within
+    Loud groans are heard, and wailings of dismay,
+    The whistling scourge, the fetter's clank and din,
+Shrieks, as of tortured fiends, and all the sounds of sin.
+
+LXXIV. Aghast, AEneas listens to the cries.
+    "O maid," he asks, "what crimes are theirs? What pain
+    Do they endure? what wailings rend the skies?"
+    Then she: "Famed Trojan, this accursed domain
+    None chaste may enter; so the Fates ordain.
+    Great Hecate herself, when here below
+    She made me guardian of Avernus' reign,
+    Led me through all the region, fain to show
+The tortures of the gods, the various forms of woe.
+
+LXXV. "Here Cretan Rhadamanthus, strict and stern,
+    His kingdom holds. Each trespass, now confessed,
+    He hears and punishes; each tells in turn
+    The sin, with idle triumph long suppressed,
+    Till death has bared the secrets of the breast.
+    Swift at the guilty, as he stands and quakes,
+    Leaps fierce Tisiphone, for vengeance prest,
+    And calls her sisters; o'er the wretch she shakes
+The torturing scourge aloft, and waves the twisted snakes.
+
+LXXVI. "Then, opening slow, on horrid hinges grate
+    The doors accursed. See'st thou what sentinel
+    Sits in the porch? What presence guards the gate?
+    Know, that within, still fiercer and more fell,
+    Wide-yawning with her fifty throats, doth dwell
+    A Hydra. Tartarus itself, hard by,
+    Abrupt and sheer, beneath the ghosts in Hell,
+    Gapes twice as deep, as o'er the earth on high
+Towers up the Olympian steep, the summit of the sky.
+
+LXXVII. "There roll the Titans, born of ancient Earth,
+    Hurled to the bottom by the lightning's blast.
+    There lie--twin monsters of enormous girth--
+    Aloeus' sons, who 'gainst Olympus cast
+    Their impious hands, and strove with daring vast
+    To disenthrone the Thunderer. There, again,
+    The famed Salmoneus I beheld, laid fast
+    In cruel agonies of endless pain,
+Who sought the flames of Jove with mimic art to feign,
+
+LXXVIII. "And mocked Olympian thunder. Torch in hand,
+    Drawn by four steeds, through Elis' streets he came,
+    A conqueror, borne in triumph through the land.
+    And, waving high the firebrand, dared to claim
+    The God's own homage and a godlike name.
+    Blind fool and vain! to think with brazen clash
+    And hollow tramp of horn-hoofed steeds, to frame
+    The dread Storm's counterfeit, the thunder's crash,
+The matchless bolts of Jove, the inimitable flash.
+
+LXXIX. "But lo! his bolt, no smoky torch of pine,
+    The Sire omnipotent through darkness sped,
+    And hurled him headlong with the blast divine.
+    There, too, lay Tityos, nine roods outspread,
+    Nursling of earth. Hook-beaked, a vulture dread,
+    Pecking the deathless liver, plied his quest,
+    And probed the entrails and the heart, that bred
+    Immortal pain, and burrowed in his breast.
+The torturing growth goes on, the fibres never rest.
+
+LXXX. "Why now those ancient Lapithae recall,
+    Ixion and Pirithous? There in sight
+    The black rock frowns, and ever threats to fall.
+    On golden pillars shine the couches bright,
+    And royal feasts their longing eyes invite.
+    But lo, the eldest of the Furies' band
+    Sits by, and oft uprising in her might,
+    Warns from the banquet, with uplifted hand,
+And thunders in their ears, and waves a flaming brand.
+
+LXXXI. "Those, who with hate a brother's love repaid,
+    Or drove a parent outcast from their door,
+    Or, weaving fraud, their client's trust betrayed;
+    Those, who--the most in number--brooded o'er
+    Their gold, nor gave to kinsmen of their store;
+    Those, who for foul adultery were slain,
+    Who followed treason's banner, or forswore
+    Their plighted oath to masters, here remain,
+And, pent in dungeons deep, await their doom of pain.
+
+LXXXII. "Ask not what pain; what fortune or what fate
+    O'erwhelmed them, nor their torments seek to know.
+    These roll uphill a rock's enormous weight,
+    Those, hung on wheels, are racked with endless woe.
+    There, too, for ever, as the ages flow,
+    Sad Theseus sits, and through the darkness cries
+    Unhappy Phlegyas to the shades below,
+    'Learn to be good; take warning and be wise;
+Learn to revere the gods, nor heaven's commands despise.'
+
+LXXXIII. "There stands the traitor, who his country sold,
+    A tyrant's bondage for his land prepared;
+    Made laws, unmade them, for a bribe of gold.
+    With lawless lust a daughter's shame he shared;
+    All dared huge crimes, and compassed what they dared.
+    Ne'er had a hundred mouths, if such were mine,
+    Nor hundred tongues their endless sins declared,
+    Nor iron voice their torments could define,
+Or tell what doom to each the avenging gods assign.
+
+LXXXIV. "But haste we," adds the Sibyl; "onward hold
+    The way before thee, and thy task pursue.
+    Forged in the Cyclops' furnaces, behold
+    Yon walls and fronting archway, full in view.
+    Leave there thy gift and pay the God his due."
+    She spake, and thither through the dark they paced,
+    And reached the gateway. He, with lustral dew
+    Self-sprinkled, seized the entrance, and in haste
+High o'er the fronting door the fateful offering placed.
+
+LXXXV. These dues performed, they reach the realms of rest,
+    Fortunate groves, where happy souls repair,
+    And lawns of green, the dwellings of the blest.
+    A purple light, a more abundant air
+    Invest the meadows. Sun and stars are there,
+    Known but to them. There rival athletes train
+    Their practised limbs, and feats of strength compare.
+    These run and wrestle on the sandy plain,
+Those tread the measured dance, and join the song's sweet strain.
+
+LXXXVI. In flowing robes the Thracian minstrel sings,
+    Sweetly responsive to the seven-toned lyre;
+    Fingers and quill alternate wakes the strings.
+    Here Teucer's race, and many an ancient sire,
+    Chieftains of nobler days and martial fire,
+    Ilus, high-souled Assaracus, and he
+    Who founded Troy, the rapturous strains admire,
+    And arms afar and shadowy cars they see,
+And lances fixt in earth, and coursers grazing free.
+
+LXXXVII. The love of arms and chariots, the care
+    Their glossy steeds to pasture and to train,
+    That pleased them living, still attends them there:
+    These, stretched at ease, lie feasting on the plain;
+    There, choral companies, in gladsome strain,
+    Chant the loud Paean, in a grove of bay,
+    Rich in sweet scents, whence hurrying to the main,
+    Eridanus' full torrent on its way
+Rolls from below through woods majestic to the day.
+
+LXXXVIII. There, the slain patriot, and the spotless sage,
+    And pious poets, worthy of the God;
+    There he, whose arts improved a rugged age,
+    And those who, labouring for their country's good,
+    Lived long-remembered,--all, in eager mood,
+    Crowned with white fillets, round the Sibyl pressed;
+    Chiefly Musaeus; in the midst he stood,
+    With ample shoulders towering o'er the rest,
+When thus the listening crowd the prophetess addressed:
+
+LXXXIX. "Tell, happy souls; and thou, great poet, tell
+    Where--in what place--Anchises doth abide,
+    For whom we came and crossed the streams of Hell."
+    Briefly the venerable chief replied:
+    "Fixt home hath no one; by the streamlet's side,
+    Or in dark groves, or dewy meads we stray,
+    Where living waters through the pastures glide.
+    Mount, if ye list, and I will point the way,
+Yon summit, and beneath the shining fields survey."
+
+XC. Thus on he leads them, till they leave the height,
+    Rejoicing.--In a valley far away
+    The sire Anchises scanned, with fond delight,
+    The prisoned souls, who waited for the day.
+    Their shape, their mien his studious eyes survey;
+    Their fates and fortunes he reviews with pride,
+    And counts his future offspring in array.
+    Now, when his son advancing he espied,
+Aloud, with tearful eyes and outspread hands, he cried:
+
+XCI. "Art thou, then, come at last? Has filial love,
+    Thrice welcome, braved the perils of the way?
+    O joy! do I behold thee? hear thee move
+    Sweet converse as of old? 'Tis come, the day
+    I longed and looked for, pondering the delay,
+    And counting every moment, nor in vain.
+    How tost with perils do I greet thee? yea,
+    What wanderings thine on every land and main!
+What dangers did I dread from Libya's tempting reign!"
+
+XCII. "Father, 'twas thy sad image," he replied,
+    "Oft-haunting, drove me to this distant place.
+    Our navy floats on the Tyrrhenian tide.
+    Give me thy hand, nor shun a son's embrace."
+    So spake the son, and o'er his cheeks apace
+    Rolled down soft tears, of sadness and delight.
+    Thrice he essayed the phantom to embrace;
+    Thrice, vainly clasped, it melted from his sight,
+Swift as the winged wind, or vision of the night.
+
+XCIII. Meanwhile he views, deep-bosomed in a dale,
+    A grove, and brakes that rustle in the breeze,
+    And Lethe, gliding through the peaceful vale.
+    Peoples and tribes, all hovering round, he sees,
+    Unnumbered, as in summer heat the bees
+    Hum round the flowerets of the field, to drain
+    The fair, white lilies of their sweets; so these
+    Swarm numberless, and ever and again
+The gibbering ghosts disperse, and murmur o'er the plain.
+
+XCIV. Awe-struck, AEneas would the cause enquire:
+    What streams are yonder? what the crowd so great,
+    That filled the river's margin? Then the Sire
+    Anchises answered: "They are souls, that wait
+    For other bodies, promised them by Fate.
+    Now, by the banks of Lethe here below,
+    They lose the memory of their former state,
+    And from the silent waters, as they flow,
+Drink the oblivious draught, and all their cares forego.
+
+XCV. "Long have I wished to show thee, face to face,
+    Italia's sons, that thou might'st joy with me
+    To hail the new-found country of our race."
+    "Oh father!" said AEneas, "can it be,
+    That souls sublime, so happy and so free,
+    Can yearn for fleshly tenements again?
+    So madly long they for the light?" Then he:
+    "Learn, son, and listen, nor in doubt remain."
+And thus in ordered speech the mystery made plain:
+
+XCVI. "First, Heaven and Earth and Ocean's liquid plains,
+    The Moon's bright globe and planets of the pole,
+    One mind, infused through every part, sustains;
+    One universal, animating soul
+    Quickens, unites and mingles with the whole.
+    Hence man proceeds, and beasts, and birds of air,
+    And monsters that in marble ocean roll;
+    And fiery energy divine they share,
+Save what corruption clogs, and earthly limbs impair.
+
+XCVII. "Hence Fear and Sorrow, hence Desire and Mirth;
+    Nor can the soul, in darkness and in chains,
+    Assert the skies, and claim celestial birth.
+    Nay, after death, the traces it retains
+    Of fleshly grossness, and corporeal stains,
+    Since much must needs by long concretion grow
+    Inherent. Therefore are they racked with pains,
+    And schooled in all the discipline of woe;
+Each pays for ancient sin with punishment below.
+
+XCVIII. "Some hang before the viewless winds to bleach;
+    Some purge in fire or flood the deep decay
+    And taint of wickedness. We suffer each
+    Our ghostly penance; thence, the few who may,
+    Seek the bright meadows of Elysian day,
+    Till long, long years, when our allotted time
+    Hath run its orbit, wear the stains away,
+    And leave the aetherial sense, and spark sublime,
+Cleansed from the dross of earth, and cankering rust of crime.
+
+XCIX. "These, when a thousand rolling years are o'er,
+    Called by the God, to Lethe's waves repair;
+    There, reft of memory, to yearn once more
+    For mortal bodies and the upper air."
+    So spake Anchises, and the priestess fair
+    Leads, with his son, the murmuring shades among,
+    Where thickest crowd the multitude, and there
+    They mount a hillock, and survey the throng,
+And scan the pale procession, as it winds along.
+
+C.  "Come, now, and hearken to the Dardan's fame,
+    What noble grandsons shall Italia grace,
+    Proud spirits, heirs of our illustrious name,
+    And learn the fates and future of thy race.
+    See yon fair youth, now leaning--mark his face--
+    Upon a pointless spear, by lot decreed
+    To stand the nearest to the light in place,
+    He first shall rise, of mixt Italian breed,
+Silvius, an Alban name, the youngest of thy seed.
+
+CI. "Him, latest offspring of thy days' decline,
+    Thy spouse Lavinia in the woods shall rear,
+    The kingly parent of a kingly line,
+    The lords of Alba Longa. Procas, dear
+    To Trojans, Capys, Numitor are here,
+    And he, whose surname shall revive thine own.
+    Silvius AEneas, like his great compeer
+    Alike for piety and arms well known,
+If e'er, by Fate's decree, he mount the Alban throne.
+
+CII. "What youths! what strength! what promise of renown!
+    Behold the wreaths of civic oak they wear.
+    First founders these of many a glorious town,
+    Nomentum, Gabii and Fidenae fair;
+    They on the mountain pinnacles shall rear
+    Collatia's fortress, and Pometii found,
+    The camp of Inuus, which foemen fear,
+    Bola and Cora, names to be renowned,
+Albeit inglorious now, for nameless is the ground.
+
+CIII. "See Romulus, beside his grandsire's shade,
+    Offspring of Mars and Ilia, and the line
+    Of old Assaracus. See there displayed,
+    The double crest upon his helm, the sign,
+    Stamped by his sire, to mark his birth divine.
+    Henceforth, beneath his auspices, shall rise
+    That Rome, whose glories through the world shall shine;
+    Far as wide earth's remotest boundary lies,
+Her empire shall extend her genius to the skies.
+
+CIV. "Seven hills her single rampart shall embrace,
+    Seven citadels her girdling wall contain,
+    Thrice blest, beyond all cities, in a race
+    Of heroes, destined to adorn her reign.
+    So, with a hundred grandsons in her train,
+    Thrice blest, the Mother of the Gods, whose shrine
+    Is Berecynthus, rides the Phrygian plain,
+    Tower-crowned, the queen of an immortal line,
+All habitants of heaven, and all of seed divine.
+
+CV. "See now thy Romans; thither bend thine eyes,
+    And Caesar and Iulus' race behold,
+    Waiting their destined advent to the skies.
+    This, this is he--long promised, oft foretold--
+    Augustus Caesar. He the Age of Gold,
+    God-born himself, in Latium shall restore,
+    And rule the land, that Saturn ruled of old,
+    And spread afar his empire and his power
+To Garamantian tribes, and India's distant shore.
+
+CVI. "Beyond the planets his dominions lie,
+    Beyond the solar circuit of the year,
+    Where Atlas bears the starry-spangled sky.
+    E'en now the realms of Caspia shuddering hear
+    His coming, made by oracles too clear.
+    E'en now Maeotia trembles at his tread,
+    And Nile's seven mouths are troubled, as in fear
+    She shrinks reluctant to the deep, such dread
+Hath seized the wondering world, so far his fame hath spread.
+
+CVII. "So much of earth not Hercules of yore
+    O'erpassed, though he the brass-hoofed hind laid low,
+    And forth from Erymanthus drove the boar,
+    And startled Lerna's forest with his bow;
+    Nor he, the Wine-God, who in conquering show,
+    With vine-wreathed reins, and tigers to his car,
+    Rides down from Nysa to the plains below.
+    And doubt we then to celebrate so far
+Our prowess, and shall fear Ausonian fields debar?
+
+CVIII. "But see, who, crowned with olive wreath, doth bring
+    The sacred vessels? By his long, grey hair
+    And grizzled beard I know the Roman King,
+    Whom Fate from lowly Cures calls to bear
+    The mighty burden of an empire's care,
+    In peace the fabric of our laws to frame.
+    Now, Tullus comes, new triumphs to prepare,
+    And wake the folk to arm from idlesse fame,
+And Ancus courts e'en now the popular acclaim.
+
+CIX. "Would'st thou behold the Tarquins? Yonder stands
+    Great Brutus, the Avenger, proud to tear
+    The people's fasces from the tyrant's hands.
+    First Consul, he the dreaded axe shall bear,
+    The patriot-father, who for freedom fair
+    Shall call his own rebellious sons to bleed.
+    O noble soul, but hapless! Howso'er
+    Succeeding ages shall record the deed.
+'Tis country's love prevails, and glory's quenchless greed.
+
+CX. "Lo, there the Drusi and the Decii stand,
+    And stern Torquatus with his axe, and lo!
+    Camilius brings in triumph to his land
+    The Roman standards, rescued from the foe.
+    See, too, yon pair, well-matched in equal show
+    Of radiant arms, and, while obscured in night,
+    Firm knit in friendly fellowship; but oh!
+    How dire the feud, what hosts shall arm for fight,
+What streams of carnage flow, if e'er they reach the light!
+
+CXI. "Here from Monoecus and the Alps descends
+    The father; there, with Easterns in array,
+    The daughter's husband. O my sons! be friends;
+    Cease from the strife; forbear the unnatural fray,
+    Nor turn Rome's prowess to her own decay;
+    And thou, the foremost of our blood, be first
+    To fling the arms of civic strife away,
+    And cease for lawless victories to thirst,
+Thou of Olympian birth, and sheath the sword, accurst.
+
+CXII. "See who from Corinth doth his march pursue,
+    Decked with the spoils of many a Grecian foe.
+    His car shall climb the Capitol. See, too,
+    The man who lofty Argos shall o'erthrow,
+    And lay the walls of Agamemnon low,
+    And great AEacides himself destroy,
+    Sprung from Achilles, to requite the woe
+    Wrought on old Ilion, and avenge with joy
+Minerva's outraged fane, and slaughtered sires of Troy.
+
+CXIII. "Shalt thou, great Cato, unextolled remain?
+    Cossus? the Gracchi? or the Scipios, ye
+    Twin thunderbolts of battle, and the bane
+    Of Libya? Who would fail to tell of thee,
+    Fabricius, potent in thy poverty?
+    Or thee, Serranus, scattering the seed?
+    O spare my breath, ye Fabii; thou art he
+    Called Maximus, their Greatest thou indeed,
+Sole saviour, whose delay averts the hour of need.
+
+CXIV. "Others, no doubt, from breathing bronze shall draw
+    More softness, and a living face devise
+    From marble, plead their causes at the law
+    More deftly, trace the motions of the skies
+    With learned rod, and tell the stars that rise.
+    Thou, Roman, rule, and o'er the world proclaim
+    The ways of peace. Be these thy victories,
+    To spare the vanquished and the proud to tame.
+These are imperial arts, and worthy of thy name."
+
+CXV. He paused; and while they pondered in amaze,
+    "Behold," he cried "Marcellus, see him stride,
+    Proud of the spoils that tell a nation's praise.
+    See how he towers, with all a conqueror's pride.
+    His arm shall stem the tumult and the tide
+    Of foreign hordes, and save the land from stain.
+    'Tis he shall crush the rebel Gaul, and ride
+    Through Punic ranks, and in Quirinus' fane
+Hang up the thrice-won spoils, in triumph for the slain."
+
+CXVI. Then thus AEneas spoke, for, passing by,
+    He saw a comely youth, in bright array
+    Of glittering arms; yet downcast was his eye,
+    Joyless and damp his face; "O father, say,
+    Who companies the hero on his way?
+    His son? or scion of his stock renowned?
+    What peerless excellence his looks display!
+    What stir, what whispers in the crowd around!
+But gloomy Night's sad shades his youthful brows surround."
+
+CXVII. Weeping, the Sire: "Seek not, my son, to weigh
+    Thy children's mighty sorrow. Him shall Fate
+    Just show to earth, but suffer not to stay.
+    Too potent Heaven had deemed the Roman state,
+    Were gifts like this as permanent as great.
+    Ah! what laments, what groanings of the brave
+    Shall fill the field of Mars! What funeral state
+    Shall Tiber see, as past the recent grave
+Slowly and sad he winds his melancholy wave!
+
+CXVIII. "No Trojan youth of such illustrious worth
+    Shall raise the hopes of Latin sires so high.
+    Ne'er shall the land of Romulus henceforth
+    Look on a fosterling with prouder eye.
+    O filial love! O faith of days gone by!
+    O hand unconquered! None had hoped to bide
+    Unscathed his onset, nor his arm defy,
+    When, foot to foot, the murderous sword he plied,
+Or dug with iron heel his foaming charger's side.
+
+CXIX. "Ah! child of tears! can'st thou again be free
+    And burst Fate's cruel bondage, Rome shall know
+    Her own Marcellus, reappeared in thee.
+    Go, fill your hands with lilies; let me strow
+    The purple blossoms where he lies below.
+    These gifts, at least, in sorrow will I lay,
+    To grace my kinsman's spirit, thus--but oh!
+    Alas, how vainly!--to the thankless clay
+These unavailing dues, these empty offerings pay."
+
+CXX. Twain are the gates of Sleep; one framed, 'tis said,
+    Of horn, which easy exit doth invite
+    For real shades to issue from the dead.
+    One with the gleam of polished ivory bright,
+    Whence only lying visions leave the night.
+    Through this Anchises, talking by the way,
+    Sends forth the son and Sibyl to the light.
+    Back hastes AEneas to his friends, and they
+Straight to Caieta steer, and anchor in her bay.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK SEVEN
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+Passing Caieta and Circeii, AEneas sails up the Tiber (1-45). Virgil
+pauses to enumerate the old rulers of Latium and to describe the state
+of the country at the coming of AEneas. Latinus is King. Oracles have
+foretold that by marriage with an alien his only daughter is to become
+the mother of an imperial line. Fresh signs and wonders enforce the
+prophecy (46-126). The Trojans eat their tables (127-171). An
+embassage is sent to the Latin capital, and after conference Latinus
+offers peace to the Trojans and to AEneas his daughter's hand
+(172-342). Juno, the evil genius of Troy, again intervenes and
+summons to her aid the demon Alecto (341-410), who excites first
+Amata then Turnus against the proposed peace, and finally (411-576)
+provokes a pitched battle between Trojans and Latins (577-648).
+Alecto is scornfully dismissed by Juno, who causes war to be formally
+declared (649-747). The war-fever in Italy. Catalogue of the leaders
+and nations that gather to destroy AEneas, chief among them being
+Turnus and Camilla (748-981).
+
+
+I.  Thou too, Caieta, dying, to our shore,
+    AEneas' nurse, hast given a deathless fame,
+    E'en now thine honour guards it, as of yore,
+    Still doth thy tomb in great Hesperia frame
+    Glory--if that be glory--for thy name.
+    Here good AEneas paid his dues aright,
+    And raised a mound, and now, as evening came,
+    Sails forth; the faint winds whisper to the night;
+Clear shines the Moon, and tips the trembling waves with light.
+
+II. They skirt the coast, where Circe, maiden bright,
+    The Sun's rich daughter, wakes with melodies
+    The groves that none may enter. There each night,
+    As nimbly through the slender warp she plies
+    The whistling shuttle, through her chambers rise
+    The flames of odorous cedar. Thence the roar
+    Of lions, raging at their chains, the cries
+    Of bears close-caged, and many a bristly boar,
+The yells of monstrous wolves at midnight fill the shore.
+
+III. All these with potent herbs the cruel queen
+    Had stripped of man's similitude, to wear
+    A brutal figure, and a bestial mien.
+    But kindly Neptune, with protecting care,
+    And loth to see the pious Trojans bear
+    A doom so vile, such prodigies as these,
+    Lest, borne perchance into the bay, they near
+    The baneful shore, fills out with favouring breeze
+The sails, and speeds their flight across the boiling seas.
+
+IV. Now blushed the deep beneath the dawning ray,
+    And in her rosy chariot borne on high,
+    Aurora, bright with saffron, brought the day.
+    Down drop the winds, the Zephyrs cease to sigh,
+    And not a breath is stirring in the sky,
+    And not a ripple on the marble seas,
+    As heavily the toiling oars they ply.
+    When near him from the deep AEneas sees
+A mighty grove outspread, a forest thick with trees.
+
+V.  And in the midst of that delightful grove
+    Fair-flowing Tiber, eddying swift and strong,
+    Breaks to the main. Around them and above,
+    Gay-plumaged fowl, that to the stream belong,
+    And love the channel and the banks to throng,
+    Now skim the flood, now fly from bough to bough,
+    And charm the air with their melodious song.
+    Shoreward AEneas bids them turn the prow,
+And up the shady stream with joyous hearts they row.
+
+VI. Say, Erato, how Latium fared of yore,
+    What deeds were wrought, what rulers lived and died,
+    When strangers landed on Ausonia's shore,
+    And trace the rising of the war's dark tide.
+    Fierce feuds I sing--O Goddess, be my guide,--
+    Tyrrhenian hosts, the battle's armed array,
+    Proud kings who fought and perished in their pride,
+    And all Hesperia gathered to the fray,
+A larger theme unfolds, and loftier is the lay.
+
+VII. Long had Latinus ruled the peaceful state.
+    A nymph, Marica, of Laurentian breed,
+    Bore him to Faunus, who, as tales relate,
+    Derived through Picus his Saturnian seed.
+    No son was left Latinus to succeed,
+    His boy had died ere manhood; one alone
+    Remained, a daughter, so the Fates decreed,
+    To mind his palace and to heir his throne
+Ripe now for marriage rites, to nuptial age full-grown.
+
+VIII. Full many a prince from Latium far and wide,
+    And all Ausonia had essayed in vain
+    To win the fair Lavinia for his bride.
+    Her suitor now, the comeliest of the train,
+    Was Turnus, sprung from an illustrious strain.
+    Fair seemed his suit, for kindly was the maid,
+    And dearly the queen loved him, and was fain
+    His hopes to further, but the Fates gainsayed,
+And boding signs from Heaven the purposed match delayed.
+
+IX. Deep in the inmost palace, long rever'd,
+    There stood an ancient laurel. 'Twas the same
+    That sire Latinus, when the walls he reared,
+    Found there, and vowed to Phoebus, and the name
+    "Laurentines" thence his settlers taught to claim.
+    Here suddenly--behold a wondrous thing!--
+    Borne with loud buzzing through the air, down came
+    A swarm of bees. Around the top they cling,
+And from a leafy branch in linked clusters swing.
+
+X.  "Behold, from yon same quarter," cried a seer,
+    "A stranger! see their swarming hosts conspire
+    To lord it o'er Laurentum; see them near."
+    He spake, but lo! while, standing by her sire,
+    The chaste Lavinia feeds the sacred fire,
+    The flames, O horror! on her locks lay hold:
+    Her beauteous head-dress and her rich attire,
+    Her hair, her coronal of gems and gold
+Blaze, and the crackling flames her regal robe enfold.
+
+XI. Wrapt, so it seemed, in clouds of smoke, but bright
+    With yellow flames, through all the house she fled,
+    Scattering a shower of sparkles. Sore affright
+    And wonder seized them, as the seer with dread
+    Explained the vision; 'twas a sign, he said,
+    That bright and glorious in the rolls of Fate
+    Her fame should flourish and her name be spread,
+    But dark should lour the fortunes of the state,
+Whelmed in a mighty war and sunk in evil strait.
+
+XII. Forth hastes Latinus, by these sights distressed,
+    To Faunus' oracle, his sire renowned,
+    And seeks the grove, beneath Albunea's crest,
+    And sacred spring, which, echoing from the ground,
+    Leaps up and flings its sulphurous fumes around.
+    Here, craving counsel when in doubtful plight,
+    Italians and OEnotria's tribes are found.
+    Here, when the priest, his offerings paid aright,
+On skins of slaughtered beasts, in stillness of the night,
+
+XIII. Lies down to sleep, in visions he beholds
+    Weird shapes, and many a wondrous voice doth hear,
+    And, borne in spirit to Avernus, holds
+    Deep converse there with Acheron. 'Twas here
+    Latinus sought for answer from the seer.
+    A hundred ewes, obedient to the rite,
+    He slew, then rested, with expectant ear,
+    Stretched on their fleeces, when, at noon of night,
+Straight from the grove's deep gloom forth pealed a voice of might:
+
+XIV. "Seek not, my son, a Latin lord. Beware
+    The purposed bridal. Lo! a foreign guest
+    Is coming, born to raise thee as thine heir,
+    And sons of sons shall see their power confessed
+    From sea to sea, from farthest East to West."
+    These words, in stillness of the night's noon-tide,
+    Latinus hears, nor locks them in his breast.
+    Ausonia's towns have heard them far and wide,
+Or ere by Tiber's banks the Dardan fleet doth ride.
+
+XV. Stretched on the grass beneath a tall tree lie
+    Troy's chief and captains and Iulus fair,
+    And wheaten platters for their meal supply
+    ('Twas Jove's command), the wilding fruits to bear.
+    When lack of food has forced them now to tear
+    The tiny cakes, and tooth and hand with zest
+    The fateful circles desecrate, nor spare
+    The sacred squares upon the rounds impressed,
+"What! eating boards as well?" Iulus cries in jest.
+
+XVI. 'Twas all; the sally, as we heard it, sealed
+    Our toils. AEneas caught it, as it flew,
+    And hushed them, marvelling at the sign revealed.
+    "Hail! land," he cries, "long destined for our due.
+    Hail, household deities, to Troy still true!
+    Here lies our home. Thus, thus, I mind the hour,
+    Anchises brought Fate's hidden things to view:
+    'My son, when famine on an unknown shore
+Shall make thee, failing food, the very boards devour,
+
+XVII. "'Then, worn and wearied, look to find a home,
+    And build thy walls, and bank them with a mound.'
+    This was that famine; this the last to come
+    Of all our woes, the woful term to bound.
+    Come then, at daybreak search the land around
+    (Each from the harbour separate let us fare)
+    And see what folk, and where their town, be found,
+    Now pour to Jove libations, and with prayer
+Invoke Anchises' shade, and back the wine-cups bear."
+
+XVIII. So saying, his brows he garlands, and with prayer
+    Invokes the Genius whom the place doth own,
+    And Earth, first Goddess, and the Nymphs who there
+    Inhabit, and the rivers yet unknown,
+    Night and the stars that glitter in her zone
+    He calls to aid him, and Idaean Jove,
+    And Phrygia's Mother on her heavenly throne,
+    And last, his parent deities to move,
+Invokes his sire below and mother queen above.
+
+XIX. Thrice Jove omnipotent from Heaven's blue height
+    Thunders aloud, and flashes in the skies
+    A cloud ablaze with rays of golden light.
+    'Tis come--so Rumour through the Trojans flies--
+    The day to bid their promised walls arise.
+    Cheered by the mighty omen and the sign,
+    They spread the feast, and each with other vies
+    To range the goblets and to wreath the wine,
+And gladdening hearts rejoice to greet the day divine.
+
+XX. Soon as the morrow bathed the world once more
+    In dawning light, by separate ways they fare
+    To search the town, the frontiers and the shore.
+    Here is Numicius' fountain, Tiber there,
+    Here dwell the Latins. Then Anchises' heir
+    Choice spokesmen to the monarch's city sends,
+    Five score, their peaceful errand to declare,
+    And royal presents to their charge commends,
+And bids them claim of right the welcome due to friends.
+
+XXI. At once the heralds hearken and obey,
+    And each and all, with rapid steps, and crowned
+    With Pallas' olive, hasten on their way.
+    Himself with shallow trench marks out the ground,
+    And, camp-like, girds with bastions and a mound
+    The new-formed settlement. Meanwhile the train
+    Of delegates their journey's end have found,
+    And greet with joy, uprising o'er the plain,
+The Latin towers and homes, and now the walls attain.
+
+XXII. Before the city, boys and youths contend
+    On horseback. Through the whirling dust they steer
+    Their chariots and the practised steeds, or bend
+    The tight-strung bow, or aim the limber spear,
+    Or urge fist-combat or the foot's career.
+    Now to their king a message quick has flown;
+    Tall men and strange, in foreign garb are here.
+    Latinus summons them within: anon,
+Amidmost of his court he mounts the ancestral throne.
+
+XXIII. Raised on a hundred columns, vast and tall,
+    Above the city reared its reverend head
+    A stately fabric, once the palace-hall
+    Of Picus. Dark woods shrouded, and the dread
+    Of ages filled, the precinct. Here, 'tis said,
+    Kings took the sceptre and the axe of fate,
+    Their senate house this temple; here were spread
+    The tables for the sacred feast, where sate,
+What time the ram was slain, the elders of the State.
+
+XXIV. In ancient cedar o'er the doors appear
+    The sculptured effigies of sires divine.
+    Grey Saturn, Italus, Sabinus here,
+    Curved hook in hand, the planter of the vine.
+    There two-faced Janus, and, in ordered line,
+    Old kings and patriot chieftains. Captive cars
+    Hang round, and arms upon the doorposts shine,
+    Curved axes, crests of helmets, towngates' bars,
+Spears, shields and beaks of ships, the trophies of their wars.
+
+XXV. There Picus sat, with his Quirinal wand,
+    Tamer of steeds. The augur's gown he wore,
+    Short, striped and belted; and his lifted hand
+    The sacred buckler on the left upbore.
+    Him Circe, his enamoured bride, of yore,
+    Wild with desire, so ancient legends say,
+    Smote with her golden rod, and sprinkling o'er
+    His limbs her magic poisons, made a jay,
+And sent to roam the air, with dappled plumage gay.
+
+XXVI. Such is the temple, in whose sacred dome
+    Latinus waits the Teucrians on his throne,
+    And kindly thus accosts them as they come:
+    'Speak, Dardans,--for the Dardan name ye own;
+    Nor strange your race and city, nor unknown
+    Sail ye the plains of Ocean--tell me now,
+    What seek ye? By the tempest tost, or blown
+    At random, needful of what help and how
+Came ye to Latin shores the dark-blue deep to plough?
+
+XXVII. "But, whether wandering from your course, or cast
+    By storms--such ills as oft-times on the main
+    O'ertake poor mariners--your ships at last
+    Our stream have entered, and the port attain.
+    Shun not a welcome, nor our cheer disdain.
+    For dear to Saturn, whom our sires adored,
+    Was Latium. Manners, not the laws, constrain
+    To justice. Freely, of our own accord,
+We mind the golden age, and virtues of our lord.
+
+XXVIII. "Now, I remember, old Auruncans told
+    (Age dims, but memory can the tale retrace)
+    How, born in Latium, Dardanus of old
+    Went forth to northern Samos, styled of Thrace,
+    And reached the towns at Phrygian Ida's base.
+    From Tuscan Corythus in days gone by
+    He went, and now among the stars hath place,
+    Throned in the golden palace of the sky.
+On earth his altar marks one godhead more on high."
+
+XXIX. He spake: Ilioneus this answer gave:
+    "O King, blest seed of Faunus! Star nor strand
+    Misled us, nor hath stress of storm or wave
+    Forced us to seek the shelter of your land.
+    Freewill hath brought us hither, forethought planned
+    Our flight; for we are outcasts, every one,
+    The toil-worn remnant of an exiled band,
+    Driven from a mighty empire; mightier none
+In bygone years was known beneath the wandering sun.
+
+XXX. "From Jove we spring; Jove Dardans hail with joy
+    Their parent; he who sends us is our lord
+    AEneas, Jove-born and a prince of Troy.
+    How fierce a tempest from Mycenae poured
+    O'er Ida's fields; how Fate with fire and sword
+    Made Europe clash with Asia, he hath known
+    Whoe'er to Ocean's limits hath explored
+    The utmost earth, or in the central zone
+Dwells, if a man there be, in torrid climes unknown.
+
+XXXI. "Swept by that deluge o'er the deep, we crave
+    A home for home-gods, shelter on the strand,
+    And man's free privilege of air and wave.
+    We shall not shame the lustre of your land,
+    Nor stint the gratitude kind deeds demand.
+    Grant Troy a refuge, and Ausonians ne'er
+    Shall rue the welcome proffered by your hand.
+    Yea, scorn us not, that thus unsought we bear
+The lowly suppliant's wreath, and speak the words of prayer.
+
+XXXII. "Full many a people,--let the fates attest
+    Of great AEneas, and his hand of might,
+    Ne'er pledged in vain, our bravest and our best--
+    Full many a tribe, though lowly be our plight,
+    Have sought with ours their fortunes to unite.
+    Fate bade us seek your country and her King.
+    Hither, where Dardanus first saw the light,
+    Apollo back the Dardan race would bring,
+To Tuscan Tiber's banks and pure Numicius' spring.
+
+XXXIII. "These gifts AEneas to our charge commends,
+    Poor relics saved from Ilion, but a sign
+    Of ancient greatness, and the gifts of friends.
+    See, from this golden goblet at the shrine
+    His sire Anchises poured the sacred wine;
+    Clad in these robes sat Priam, when of old
+    The laws he ministered. These robes are thine,
+    This sceptre, this embroidered vest,--behold,
+'Twas wrought by Trojan dames,--this diadem of gold."
+
+XXXIV. Mute sat and motionless, with looks bent down,
+    Latinus; but his restless eyes confessed
+    His musings. Not the sceptre nor the gown
+    Of purple moved him, but his pensive breast
+    Dwelt on his daughter's marriage, till he guessed
+    The meaning of old Faunus. This was he,
+    His destined heir, the bridegroom and the guest,
+    Whose glorious progeny, by Fate's decree,
+The Latin throne should share, and rule from sea to sea.
+
+XXXV. "Heaven prosper," joyfully he cried, "our deed,
+    And heaven's own augury. Your wish shall stand;
+    I take the gifts. Yours, Trojans, all ye need--
+    The wealth of Troy, the fatness of the land,--
+    Nought shall ye lack from King Latinus' hand.
+    Let but AEneas, if he longs so fain
+    To claim our friendship, and a home demand,
+    Come here, nor fear to greet us. Not in vain
+'Twixt monarchs stands the peace, which plighted hands ordain.
+
+XXXVI. "Let now this message to your King be given.
+    'A child, the daughter of my heart, is mine,
+    Whom neither frequent prodigies from heaven,
+    Nor voices uttered from my father's shrine,
+    Permit with one of Latin birth to join.
+    Strange sons--so Latin oracles conspire--
+    Shall come, whose offspring shall exalt our line.
+    Thy King the bridegroom whom the Fates require
+I deem, and, if in aught I read the truth, desire.'"
+
+XXXVII. So speaks Latinus, and with kindly care
+    Choice steeds selects. Three hundred of the best
+    Stand in his lofty stables, sleek and fair;
+    And forth in order for each Teucrian guest
+    His servants led them, at their King's behest.
+    Rich housings, wrought in many a purple fold,
+    And broidered rugs adorn them; o'er each breast
+    Hang golden poitrels, glorious to behold.
+Each champs with foaming mouth a chain of glittering gold.
+
+XXXVIII. A car he orders for the Dardan sire,
+    And twin-yoked coursers of ethereal seed,
+    Whose snorting nostrils breathe the flames of fire.
+    Half-mortal, half-immortal was each steed,
+    The bastard birth of that celestial breed,
+    Which cunning Circe from a mortal mare
+    Raised to her sire the Sun-god. So with speed
+    The mounted Trojans to their prince repair,
+Pleased with the gifts and words, for peaceful news they bear.
+
+XXXIX. Lo! from Inachian Argos through the skies
+    Jove's consort her avenging flight pursues,
+    And far off, from Pachynus, as she flies
+    O'er Sicily, beholds the Dardan crews
+    And great AEneas, gladdening at the news.
+    The rising settlement, the new-tilled shore,
+    The ships deserted for the land she views,
+    And shaking her imperial brows, and sore
+With anguish, from her breast these wrathful words doth pour:
+
+XL. "Ah, hateful race! Ah, Phrygian fates abhorred!
+    What, fell they not on the Sigean plain?
+    Must captives be twice captured? Have the sword
+    And flames of Troy avenged me but in vain?
+    Have foes and fire found passage for the slain?
+    Sooth, then, my godhead sleepeth, and that hand
+    Is tired of hate, which whilom o'er the main
+    Dared chase these outcasts and their paths withstand,
+Where'er the deep sea rolled, far from their native land!
+
+XLI. "Have sea and sky been wielded to destroy,
+    Nor Syrtes yet, nor Scylla's fierce embrace,
+    Nor vast Charybdis whelmed the sons of Troy,
+    Who, safe in Tiber, flout me to the face?
+    Yet Mars from earth, and for a less disgrace
+    Could sweep the Lapithae, and Heaven's great Sire
+    Doomed ancient Calydon and OEneus' race
+    To rue the vengeance of Diana's ire.
+Did ever crime of theirs the Dardans' meed require?
+
+XLII. "But I, Jove's consort, who have stooped to seek
+    All shifts, all ventures and devices, I
+    Am vanquished by AEneas! If too weak
+    Myself, some other godhead will I try,
+    And Hell shall hear, if Heaven its aid deny.
+    Grant that these Dardans must in Latium reign,
+    That fixt and changeless stands the doom, whereby
+    His bride shall be Lavinia, that in vain
+Can Juno thwart whate'er the Destinies ordain;
+
+XLIII. "Yet time delayed can make occasion lost,
+    Yet mutual strife each nation may devour,
+    And Kings plight marriage at their peoples' cost.
+    Troy's blood and Latium's, maiden, be thy dower.
+    Bellona lights thee to thy bridal bower.
+    Not only Hecuba--Ah, sweet the joy!--
+    Conceives a firebrand. Born in evil hour,
+    The child of Venus shall her hopes destroy,
+And, like another Paris, fire a new-born Troy."
+
+XLIV. She spake, and earthward darting, fierce and fell,
+    Calls sad Alecto from her dark retreat
+    Among the Furies in the shades of Hell.
+    Sweet are war's sorrows to her soul, and sweet
+    Are evil deeds, and hatred and deceit.
+    E'en Pluto, e'en her sister-fiends detest
+    The monstrous shape, so many forms complete
+    The grisly horrors of that hateful pest,
+So many a coal-black snake sprouts from her threatening crest.
+
+XLV. Her Juno finds, and thus new rage inspires:
+    "Grant, virgin daughter of eternal Night,
+    This boon, the labour that thy soul desires.
+    Lest here my fame and honour lose their might,
+    And Troy gain Italy, and craft unite
+    Troy's prince with Latium's heiress. Thou can'st turn
+    Fond hearts to feuds, and brethren arm for fight.
+    Thou know'st, for savage is thy mood and stern,
+To breed domestic strife and happy homes to burn.
+
+XLVI. "A thousand names, a thousand means hast thou
+    Of mischief. Search thy fertile breast, and break
+    The plighted peace. Breed calumnies, and sow
+    The strife. Let youth desire, demand and take
+    Thy weapons."--Wreathed with many a Gorgon snake,
+    To Latium's court Alecto flew unseen,
+    And by Amata's chamber sate, nor spake;
+    While, musing on her new-come guests, the queen,
+Wroth for her Turnus, boiled with woman's rage and spleen.
+
+XLVII. At her the goddess from her dark locks threw
+    A snake, and lodged the monster in her breast,
+    To make her fury all the house undo.
+    In glides, impalpable, the maddening pest
+    Between the dainty bosom and the vest,
+    Breathing its venom. Like a necklace thin
+    It hung, all golden, like a wreath, caressed
+    Her temples, like a ribbon, wove within
+Her hair its slippery coils, and wandered o'er her skin.
+
+XLVIII. So, while the taint, first stealing through her frame,
+    Slipped in, with slimy venom, and the pest
+    Thrilled every sense, and wrapped her bones in flame,
+    Nor yet her soul had caught it, or confessed
+    The fiery fever that consumed her breast;
+    Soft, like a mother, and with tears, she cried,
+    Grieved for her child, and pondering with unrest
+    The Phrygian match, "Ah, woe the day betide,
+If Teucrian exiles win Lavinia for a bride!
+
+XLIX. "Hast thou no pity for thy child, nor thee,
+    O father! nor her mother, left forlorn,
+    When, with the rising North-wind, o'er the sea
+    Yon faithless pirate hath the maiden borne?
+    Not so, forsooth, did Lacedaemon mourn
+    Robbed Helen, when the Phrygian shepherd planned
+    Her capture. Is thy sacred faith forsworn?
+    Where is thy old affection? Where that hand
+So oft to Turnus pledged, thy kinsman of the land?
+
+L.  "If Latins for Lavinia needs must find
+    A foreign mate; if so the Fates constrain,
+    And Faunus' words weigh heavy on thy mind,
+    All lands, that yield not to the Latin reign,
+    I count as foreign; so the Gods speak plain;
+    And foreign then is Turnus, if we trace
+    The first beginning of his princely strain.
+    Greeks were his grandsires; Argos was the place
+Where old Acrisius ruled, where dwelt th' Inachian race."
+
+LI. So pleading, and so weeping, she essayed
+    To move the king; but when her prayers were vain,
+    Nor tears Latinus from his purpose stayed,
+    And now the viper with its deadly bane
+    Crept to her inmost parts, and through each vein
+    The maddening poison to her heartstrings stole,
+    Then, scared by monstrous phantoms of the brain,
+    Poor queen! she raved, and maddening past control,
+Ran through the crowded streets in impotence of soul.
+
+LII. Like as a whip-top by the lash is sent
+    In widening orbs to spin, when lads among
+    The empty courtyards urge their merriment;
+    And, scourged in circling courses by the thong
+    It wheels and eddies, while the beardless throng
+    Bend over, lost in ignorant surprise,
+    And marvel, as the boxwood whirls along,
+    Stirred by each stroke; so fast Amata flies
+From street to street, while crowds look on with lowering eyes.
+
+LIII. Nay, simulating Bacchus, now she dares
+    To feign new orgies, and her crime complete.
+    Swift with her daughter to the woods she fares,
+    And hides her on the mountains, fain to cheat
+    The Trojans, and the purposed rites defeat.
+    "Hail, thou alone art worthy of the fair!
+    Evoe, Bacchus! for thy name is sweet.
+    For thee she grows her dedicated hair,
+For thee she leads the dance, the ivied wand doth bear."
+
+LIV. The matrons then--so fast the rumour flew,--
+    Fired like the Queen, and frenzied with despair,
+    Rush forth, and leave their ancient homes for new,
+    And to the breezes give their necks and hair.
+    These with their tremulous wailings fill the air,
+    And, girt about with fawn-skins, bear along
+    The vine-branch javelins, and Amata there,
+    Herself ablaze with fury, o'er the throng
+A blazing pine-torch waves, and chants the nuptial song
+
+LV. Of Turnus and Lavinia. Fiercely roll
+    Her blood-shot eyes, and, frowning, suddenly
+    She pours the frantic passions of her soul.
+    "Ho! Latin mothers all, where'er ye be,
+    Here, if ye love me, if a mother's plea
+    Deserve your pity, let your hair be seen
+    Loosed from the fillets, and be mad, like me."
+    So through the woods, the wild-beasts' lairs between,
+With Bacchanalian goads Alecto drives the Queen.
+
+LVI. When now thus fairly was the work begun,
+    The barbs of anger planted, pleased to view
+    Latinus' purpose and his house undone,
+    On dusky wings the Goddess soared, and through
+    The liquid air to neighbouring Ardea flew,
+    The bold Rutulian's city, built of yore
+    By Danae, thither when the South-wind blew
+    Her and her followers. Ardea's name it bore,
+And Ardea's name still lives, though fortune smiles no more.
+
+LVII. There in his palace, locked in sleep's embrace,
+    Lay Turnus. Straight Alecto, versed in snares,
+    Doffs the fiend's figure and her frowning face.
+    The likeness of a withered crone she wears,
+    With wrinkled forehead and with hoary hairs.
+    Her fillet and her olive crown proclaim
+    The priestess. Changed in semblance, she appears
+    Like Calybe, great Juno's sacred dame;
+Thus to the youth she comes, and hails him by his name.
+
+LVIII. "Fie! Turnus, fie! wilt thou behold unstirred
+    Such labours wasted, and thy hopes belied?
+    Thy sceptre to a Dardan guest transferred?
+    See, now, to thee Latinus hath denied
+    Thy blood-bought dowry, and thy promised bride,
+    And seeks a stranger for his throne. Away
+    To thankless perils, while thy friends deride!
+    Go, strew the Tuscans, scatter their array,
+Till Latins, saved once more, their plighted word betray.
+
+LIX. "This mandate great Saturnia bade me bear,
+    Thou sleeping. Up, then! greet the welcome hour;
+    Arm, arm the youth, and from the towngates fare!
+    These Phrygian vessels with the flames devour,
+    Moored yonder in fair Tiber. 'Tis the power
+    Of Heaven that bids thee. Let Latinus, too,
+    If false and faithless he withhold the dower,
+    And grudge thy marriage, learn the deed to rue,
+And taste at length and try what Turnus armed can do."
+
+LX. Then he in scorn: "Yea, Tiber's waves beset
+    With foreign ships--I know it; wherefore feign
+    For me such terrors? Juno guards me yet.
+    Good mother, dotage wears thee, and thy brain
+    Is rusty; age hath troubled thee in vain,
+    And, 'midst the feuds of monarchs, mocks with fright
+    A priestess. Go; 'tis thine to guard the fane
+    And sacred statues; these be thy delight;
+Leave peace and war to men, whose business is to fight."
+
+LXI. Therewith in fire Alecto's wrath outbroke,
+    A sudden tremor through his limbs ran fast,
+    His stony eyeballs stiffened as he spoke.
+    So hissed the Fury with her snakes, so vast
+    Her shape appeared, so fierce the look she cast,
+    As back she thrust him with her flaming eyes,
+    Fain to say more, but faltering and aghast.
+    Two serpents from her Gorgon locks uprise;
+Shrill sounds her scorpion lash, as, foaming, thus she cries:
+
+LXII. "Behold me, worn with dotage! me, whom age
+    Hath rusted, and, while monarchs fight, would scare
+    With empty fears! Behold me in my rage!
+    I come, the Furies' minister; see there,
+    War, death and havoc in these hands I bear."
+    Full at his breast a firebrand, as she spoke,
+    Black with thick smoke, but bright with lurid glare,
+    The Fiend outflung. In terror he awoke,
+And o'er his bones and limbs a clammy sweat outbroke.
+
+LXIII. "Arms, arms!" he yells, and searches for his sword
+    In couch and chamber, maddening at the core
+    With war's fierce passion, and the lust abhorred
+    Of slaughter, and with bitter wrath yet more.
+    As when a wood-fire crackles with fierce roar,
+    Heaped round a caldron, and the simmering stream
+    Foams, fumes, and bubbles, and at last boils o'er,
+    And upward shoots the mingled smoke and steam;
+So Turnus boils with wrath, so dire his rage doth seem.
+
+LXIV. Choice youths he sends, to let Latinus know
+    The peace was torn, then musters his array
+    To guard Italia and expel the foe.
+    Let Trojans league with Latins as they may,
+    Himself can match them, and he comes to slay.
+    So saying, his vows he renders. Ardour fires
+    The fierce Rutulians, and each hails the fray;
+    And one his youth, and one his grace admires,
+And one his valorous deeds, and one his kingly sires.
+
+LXV. So Turnus the Rutulians stirred to war.
+    Meanwhile the Fury to the Trojans bent
+    Her flight; with wily eye she marked afar,
+    With snares and steeds upon the chase intent,
+    Iulus. On his hounds at once she sent
+    A sudden madness, and fierce rage awoke
+    To chase the stag, as with the well-known scent
+    She lured their nostrils.--Thus the feud outbroke;
+So small a cause of strife could rustic hearts provoke.
+
+LXVI. Broad-antlered, beauteous was the stag, which erst
+    The sons of Tyrrheus (Tyrrheus kept whilere
+    The royal herd and pastures), fostering nursed,
+    Snatched from the dam. Their sister, Silvia fair,
+    Oft wreathed his horns, and oft with tender care
+    She washed him, and his shaggy coat would comb.
+    So tamed, and trained his master's board to share,
+    The gentle favourite in the woods would roam;
+Each night, how late soe'er, he sought the well-known home.
+
+LXVII. Him the fierce hounds now startle far astray,
+    As down the stream he floats, or, crouching low,
+    Rests on the green bank from the noontide ray.
+    Athirst for praise, Ascanius bends his bow;
+    Loud whirs the arrow, for Fate aims the blow,
+    And cleaves his flank and belly. Homeward flies
+    The wounded creature, moaning in his woe.
+    Blood-stained, with piteous and imploring eyes,
+Like one who sues for life, he fills the house with cries.
+
+LXVIII. Smiting the breast, poor Silvia calls for aid.
+    Forth rush the churls, scarce waiting her demand,
+    Roused by the Fury in the wood's still shade.
+    One grasps a club, another wields a brand;
+    Rage makes a weapon of what comes to hand.
+    Forth from his work ran Tyrrheus, who an oak
+    Was cleaving with the wedge, and cheered the band.
+    His hand still grasped the hatchet for the stroke,
+And bitter wrath he breathed, and fierce the words he spoke.
+
+LXIX. The Fury snatched the moment; forth she flew,
+    And, perching on the cabin-roof, looked round,
+    And from the curved horn of the shepherds blew
+    A blast of Tartarus, that shook the ground,
+    And made the forests and the groves rebound
+    The infernal echoes. Trivia's lakes afar,
+    And Velia's fountains heard the dreadful sound;
+    The white waves heard it of the sulphurous Nar,
+And mothers clasped their babes, and trembled at the war.
+
+LXX. Swift at the summons, as the trumpet brayed,
+    The sturdy shepherds arm them for the fray.
+    Swift pour the Trojans from their camp, to aid
+    Ascanius. Lo! 'tis battle's stern array,
+    No village brawl, where churls dispute the day
+    With charred oak-staves and cudgels. Broadswords clash
+    With broadswords, and War's harvest far away
+    Stands, bristling black with iron, as they dash
+Together, and drawn swords in doubtful conflict flash.
+
+LXXI. And brazen arms shoot many a blinding ray,
+    Smit by the sun, as clouds that fill the sky,
+    Disparting, show the splendours of the fray.
+    As when a light wind o'er the sea doth fly,
+    And the wave whitens as the breeze goes by,
+    And by degrees the bosom of the deep
+    Heaves up and swells, till higher and more high
+    The billows rise, and, gathering in a heap,
+From Ocean's caves mount up, and storm the ethereal steep.
+
+LXXII. First falls the son of Tyrrheus, stretched in death,
+    Young Almo. In his throat the deadly bane
+    Stuck fast, and choked the humid pass of breath,
+    And clipped the thin-spun life. There, too, is slain
+    Grey-haired Galaesus, parleying but in vain.
+    More righteous none, though many around lie killed,
+    None wealthier did Ausonia's realm contain.
+    Five herds, five bleating flocks, his pastures filled,
+And with a hundred ploughs his fruitful lands he tilled.
+
+LXXIII. Thus while the conflict wavered on the plain,
+    The Fury, pleased her triumph to survey,
+    Her pledge fulfilled,--War crimsoned with the stain
+    Of gore, and grim Death busy with his prey,--
+    Swift from Hesperia wings her airy way,
+    And proudly speaks to Juno: "See, 'tis done;
+    The discord perfect in the dolorous fray,
+    And War with all its miseries begun.
+Now bid, forsooth, the foes plight friendship and be one.
+
+LXXIV. "Steeped are thy Trojans in Ausonian gore.
+    Yet speak, and more will I perform, if so
+    Thy purpose holds. Along the neighbouring shore
+    Each town shall hear the rumour of the foe,
+    Each breast with frenzy for the strife shall glow,
+    Till all bring aid, and fruitful is the land
+    In deeds of blood."--Then Juno: "Nay, not so;
+    Enough of fraud and terror. Firmly stand
+The causes of the feud; they battle hand to hand,
+
+LXXV. "And fresh blood stains the weapons chance supplied.
+    Such joy the bridal to Latinus bear,
+    And Venus' wondrous offspring, and his bride.
+    But thou--for scarce Olympus' king would bear
+    Thy lawless roving in ethereal air,--
+    Give place; myself will guide the rest aright."
+    Saturnia spoke; Alecto then and there
+    Her wings, that hiss with serpents, spreads for flight,
+And to Cocytus dives, and leaves the realms of light.
+
+LXXVI. In mid Italia lies a vale renowned,
+    Amsanctus. Dark woods down the mountain grow
+    This side and that; a torrent with the sound
+    Of thunder roars among the rocks below.
+    There, black as night, an awful cave they show,
+    The gorge of Dis. Dread Acheron from beneath
+    Bursts in a whirlpool, with its waves of woe,
+    And jaws that gape with pestilential death.
+There plunged the hateful Fiend, and earth and air took breath.
+
+LXXVII. Nor less, meanwhile, Saturnia hastes to crown
+    The war's mad tumult. Home the shepherds bore
+    Their dead from out the battle to the town.
+    Young Almo, and Galaesus, fouled with gore.
+    All bid Latinus witness, and implore
+    The gods, and while the blood-cry calls for flame
+    And slaughter, Turnus swells the wild uproar.
+    What! he an outcast? Shall the Trojans claim
+The realm, and bastards dare the Latin race to shame?
+
+LXXVIII. Then they, whose mothers through the pathless vales
+    And forests, fired with Bacchic frenzy, ply
+    Their orgies--so Amata's name prevails--
+    Come forth, and, gathering from far and nigh,
+    Weary the War-god with their clamorous cry,
+    Till, thwarting Heaven's high purpose, each and all
+    Omens at once and oracles defy,
+    And swarm around Latinus in his hall,
+War now is all their wish, "to arms" the general call.
+
+LXXIX. Firm stands the monarch as a sea-girt rock,
+    A sea-girt rock against the roaring main,
+    Which, spite of barking billows and the shock
+    Of Ocean, doth its own huge mass sustain.
+    The foaming crags around it chafe in vain,
+    And back it flings the seaweed from its side.
+    Too weak at length their madness to restrain,
+    For things move on as Juno's whims decide,
+Oft to the gods, and oft to empty air he cried.
+
+LXXX. "Ah me! the tempest hurries us along.
+    Fate grinds us sore. Poor Latins! ye must sate,
+    Your blood must pay, the forfeit for your wrong.
+    Thee, Turnus, thee the avenging fiends await,
+    Thou, too, the gods shalt weary, but too late.
+    My rest is won, and in the port I ride;
+    Happy in all, had not an envious fate
+    Denied a happy ending." Thus he cried,
+And to his chamber fled, and flung the crown aside.
+
+LXXXI. A custom in Hesperian Latium reigned,
+    Which Alban cities kept with sacred care,
+    And Rome, the world's great mistress, hath retained.
+    Thus still they wake the War-god, whensoe'er
+    For Arabs or Hyrcanians they prepare,
+    Or Getic tribes the tearful woes of war,
+    Or push to Ind their distant arms, or dare
+    To track the footsteps of the Morning star,
+And claim their standards back from Parthia's hosts afar.
+
+LXXXII. Twain are the Gates of War, to dreadful Mars
+    With awe kept sacred and religious pride.
+    A hundred brazen bolts and iron bars
+    Shut fast the doors, and Janus stands beside.
+    Here, when the senators on war decide,
+    The Consul, decked in his Quirinal pall
+    And Gabine cincture, flings the portals wide,
+    And cries to arms; the warriors, one and all,
+With blare of brazen horns make answer to the call.
+
+LXXXIII. 'Twas thus that now Latinus they require
+    To dare AEneas' followers to the fray,
+    And ope the portals. But the good old Sire
+    Shrank from the touch, and, shuddering with dismay,
+    Shunned the foul office, and abjured the day.
+    Then, downward darting from the skies afar,
+    Heaven's empress with her right hand wrenched away
+    The lingering bars. The grating hinges jar,
+As back Saturnia thrusts the iron gates of War.
+
+LXXXIV. Then woke Ausonia from her sleep. Forth swarm
+    Footmen and horsemen, and in wild career
+    Whirl up the dust. "Arm," cry the warriors, "arm!"
+    With unctuous lard their polished shields they smear,
+    And whet the axe, and scour the rusty spear.
+    Their banners wave, their trumpets sound the fight.
+    Five towns their anvils for the war uprear,
+    Crustumium, Tibur, glorying in her might,
+Ardea, Atina strong, Antemnae's tower-girt height.
+
+LXXXV. Lithe twigs of osier in their shields they weave,
+    And shape the casque, and in the mould prepare
+    The brazen breastplate and the silver greave.
+    Scorned lie the spade, the sickle and the share,
+    Their fathers' falchions to the forge they bear.
+    Now peals the clarion; through the host hath spread
+    The watch-word. Helmets from the walls they tear,
+    And yoke the steeds. In triple gold arrayed,
+Each grasps the burnished shield, and girds the trusty blade.
+
+LXXXVI. Now open Helicon; awake the strain,
+    Ye Muses. Aid me, that the tale be told,
+    What kings were roused, what armies filled the plain,
+    What battles blazed, what men of valiant mould
+    Graced fair Italia in those days of old.
+    Aid ye, for ye are goddesses, and clear
+    Can ye remember, and the tale unfold.
+    But faint and feeble is the voice we hear,
+A slender breath of Fame, that falters on the ear.
+
+LXXXVII. First came with armed men from Etruria's coast
+    Mezentius, scorner of the Gods. Next came
+    His son, young Lausus, comeliest of the host,
+    Save Turnus--Lausus, who the steed could tame,
+    And quell wild beasts and track the woodland game.
+    A hundred warriors from Agylla's town
+    He leads--ah vainly! though he died with fame.
+    Proud had he been and worthy to have known
+A nobler sire's commands, a nobler sire to own.
+
+LXXXVIII. With conquering steeds triumphant o'er the mead,
+    His chariot, crowned with palm-leaves, proudly wheeled
+    The comely Aventinus, glorious seed
+    Of glorious Hercules; the blazoned shield
+    His father's Hydra and her snakes revealed.
+    Him, when of old, the monstrous Geryon slain,
+    The lord of Tiryns, victor of the field,
+    Reached in his wanderings the Laurentian plain,
+And bathed in Tiber's stream the captured herds of Spain,
+
+LXXXIX. The priestess Rhea, in the secret shade
+    Of wooded Aventine, brought forth to light,
+    A god commingling with a mortal maid.
+    With pikes and poles his followers join the fight,
+    Their swords are sharp, their Sabine spears are bright.
+    Himself afoot, a lion's bristling hide
+    With sharp teeth set in rows of glittering white,
+    Swings o'er his forehead, as with eager stride,
+Clad in his father's cloak, he seeks the monarch's side.
+
+XC. Twin brothers came from Tibur--such the name
+    Tiburtus gave it--one Catillus hight,
+    And one fierce Coras, each of Argive fame,
+    Each in the van, where deadliest raves the fight.
+    As when two cloud-born Centaurs in their might
+    From some tall mountain with swift strides descend,
+    Steep Homole, or Othrys' snow-capt height;
+    The thickets yield, trees crash, and branches bend,
+As with resistless force the trampled woods they rend.
+
+XCI. Nor lacked Praeneste's founder, Vulcan's child,
+    Found on the hearthstone--if the tale be true,--
+    Brave Caeculus, the Shepherds' monarch styled.
+    Forth from Praeneste swarmed the rustic crew,
+    From Juno's Gabium to the fight they flew,
+    From ice-cold Anio, swoln with wintry rain,
+    From Hernic rocks, which mountain streams bedew,
+    From fat Anagnia's pastures, from the plain
+Where Amasenus rolls majestic to the main.
+
+XCII. With diverse arms they hasten to the war;
+    Not all can boast the clashing of the shield,
+    Not all the thunder of the rattling car.
+    These sling their leaden bullets o'er the field,
+    Those in each hand the deadly javelin wield.
+    With caps of fur their rugged brows are dight,
+    The tawny covering from the dark wolf peeled;
+    Bare is the left foot, as they march to fight,
+And, rough with raw bull's-hide, a sandal guards the right.
+
+XCIII. Next came Messapus, tamer of the steed,
+    Great Neptune's son. Fire nor the steel's sharp stroke
+    Could lay him lifeless, so the Fates decreed.
+    Grasping his sword, a laggard race he woke,
+    Disused to war, and tardy to provoke.
+    Behind him throng Fescennia's ranks to fight,
+    Men from Flavinia, and Faliscum's folk,
+    And those whom fair Capena's groves delight,
+Ciminius' mount and lake, and steep Soracte's height.
+
+XCIV. With measured tramp, their monarch's praise they sing,
+    Like snowy swans, the liquid clouds among,
+    Which homeward from their feeding ply the wing,
+    When o'er Cayster's marish, loud and long,
+    The echoes float of their melodious song.
+    None, sure, such countless multitudes would deem
+    The mail-clad warriors of an armed throng:
+    Nay, rather, like a dusky cloud they seem
+Of sea-fowl, landward driven with many a hoarse-voiced scream.
+
+XCV. Lo, Clausus next; a mighty host he led,
+    Himself a host. From Sabine sires he came,
+    And Latium thence the Claudian house o'erspread,
+    When Romans first with Sabines dared to claim
+    Coequal lordship and a share of fame.
+    With Amiternus came Eretum's band;
+    From fair Velinus' dewy fields they came,
+    From olive-crowned Mutusca, from the land
+Where proud Nomentum's towers the fruitful plains command.
+
+XCVI. From the rough crags of Tetrica came down
+    Her hosts; they came from tall Severus' flank,
+    From Foruli and fam'd Casperia's town,
+    Wash'd by Himella's waves, and those who drank
+    Of Fabaris, or dwelt on Tiber's bank.
+    Those, too, whom Nursia sendeth from the snows,
+    And Horta's sons, in many an ordered rank,
+    And tribes of Latin origin, and those
+Between whose parted fields th' ill-omened Allia flows.
+
+XCVII. As roll the billows on the Libyan deep,
+    When fierce Orion in the wintry main
+    Sinks, dark with tempests, and the waves upleap;
+    As, parched with suns of summer, stands the grain
+    On Hermus' fields, or Lycia's golden plain;
+    So countless swarm the multitudes around
+    Bold Clausus, and the wide air rings again
+    With echoes, as their clashing shields resound,
+And with the tramp of feet they shake the trembling ground.
+
+XCVIII. There Agamemnon's kinsman yokes his steeds,
+    Halaesus. Trojans were his foes, his friend
+    Was Turnus. Lo, a thousand tribes he leads;
+    Those who on Massic hills the vineyards tend,
+    Those whom Auruncans from their mountains send.
+    From Sidicinum and her neighbouring plain,
+    From Cales, from Volturnus' shoals they wend.
+    From steep Saticulum the sturdy swain,
+Fierce for the fray, comes down and joins the Oscan train.
+
+XCIX. Light barbs they fling, from pliant thongs of hide,
+    A leathern target o'er the left is strung,
+    And short, curved daggers the close fight decide.
+    Nor, OEbalus, those gallant hosts among,
+    Shalt thou go nameless, and thy praise unsung,
+    Thou, from old Telon, as the tale hath feigned,
+    And beauteous Sebethis, the wood-nymph, sprung,
+    O'er Teleboan Caprea when he reigned;
+But Caprea's narrow realm proud OEbalus disdained.
+
+C.  Far stretched his rule; Sarrastians owned his sway,
+    And they, whose lands the Sarnian waters drain,
+    And they, who till Celenna's fields, and they
+    Whom Batulum and Rufrae's walls contain,
+    And where through apple-orchards o'er the plain
+    Shines fair Abella. Deftly can they wield
+    Their native arms; the Teuton's lance they strain;
+    Bark helmets guard them, from the cork-tree peeled,
+And brazen are their swords, and brazen every shield.
+
+CI. From Nersa's hills, by prosperous arms renowned,
+    Comes Ufens, with his AEquians, in array.
+    Rude huntsmen these; in arms the stubborn ground
+    They till, themselves as stubborn. Day by day
+    They snatch fresh plunder, and they live by prey.
+    There, too, brave Umbro, of Marruvian fame,
+    Sent by his king Archippus, joins the fray.
+    Around his helmet, for in arms he came,
+The auspicious olive's leaves the sacred priest proclaim.
+
+CII. The rank-breath'd Hydra and the viper's rage
+    With hand and voice he lulled asleep; his art
+    Their bite could heal, their fury could assuage.
+    Alas! no medicine can heal the smart
+    Wrought by the griding of the Dardan dart.
+    Nor Massic herbs, nor slumberous charms avail
+    To cure the wound, that rankles in his heart.
+    Ah, hapless! thee Anguitia's bowering vale,
+Thee Fucinus' clear waves and liquid lakes bewail!
+
+CIII. Next came to war Hippolytus' fair child,
+    The comely Virbius, whom Aricia bore
+    Amid Egeria's grove, where rich and mild
+    Stands Dian's altar on the meadowy shore.
+    For when (Fame tells) Hippolytus of yore
+    Was slain, the victim of a stepdame's spite,
+    And, torn by frightened horses, quenched with gore
+    His father's wrath, famed Paeon's herbs of might
+And Dian's fostering love restored him to the light.
+
+CIV. Wroth then was Jove, that one of mortal clay
+    Should rise by mortal healing from the grave,
+    And change the nether darkness for the day,
+    And him, whose leechcraft thus availed to save,
+    Hurled with his lightning to the Stygian wave.
+    But kind Diana, in her pitying love,
+    Concealed her darling in a secret cave,
+    And fair Egeria nursed him in her grove,
+Far from the view of men, and wrath of mighty Jove.
+
+CV. There, changed in name to Virbius, but to fame
+    Unknown, through life in Latin woods he strayed.
+    Thenceforth, in memory of the deed of shame,
+    No horn-hoof'd steeds are suffered to invade
+    Chaste Trivia's temple or her sacred glade,
+    Since, scared by Ocean's monsters, from his car
+    They dashed him by the deep. Yet, undismayed,
+    His son, young Virbius, o'er the plains afar
+The fleet-horsed chariot drives, and hastens to the war.
+
+CVI. High in the forefront towered with stately frame
+    Turnus himself. His three-plumed helmet bore
+    A dragon fierce, that breathed AEtnean flame.
+    The bloodier waxed the battle, so the more
+    Its fierceness blazed, the louder was its roar.
+    Behold, the heifer on his shield, the sign
+    Of Io's fate; there Argus ever o'er
+    The virgin watches, and the stream doth shine,
+Poured from the pictured urn of Inachus divine.
+
+CVII. Next come the shielded footmen in a cloud,
+    Auruncan bands, Sicanians famed of yore,
+    Argives, Rutulians, and Sacranians proud.
+    Their painted shields the brave Labicians bore;
+    From Tibur's glades, from blest Numicia's shore,
+    From Circe's mount, from where great Jove presides
+    O'er Anxur, from Feronia's grove they pour,
+    From Satura's dark pool, where Ufens glides
+Cold through the deepening vales, and mingles with the tides.
+
+CVIII. Last came Camilla, with the Volscian bands,
+    Fierce horsemen, each in glittering arms bedight,
+    A warrior-virgin; ne'er her tender hands
+    Had plied the distaff; war was her delight,
+    Her joy to race the whirlwind and to fight.
+    Swift as the breeze, she skimmed the golden grain,
+    Nor bent the tapering wheatstalks in her flight,
+    So swift, the billows of the heaving main
+Touched not her flying fleet, she scoured the watery plain.
+
+CIX. Forth from each field and homestead, hurrying, throng,
+    With wonder, men and matrons, young and old,
+    And greet the maiden as she moves along.
+    Entranced with greedy rapture, they behold
+    Her royal scarf, in many a purple fold,
+    Float o'er her shining shoulders, and her hair
+    Bound in a coronal of clasping gold,
+    Her Lycian quiver, and her pastoral spear
+Of myrtle, tipt with steel, and her, the maid, how fair!
+
+
+
+
+BOOK EIGHT
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+Mustering of Italians, and embassage to Diomedes (1-18). Tiber in
+a dream heartens AEneas and directs him to Evander for succour.
+AEneas sacrifices the white sow and her litter to Juno, and reaches
+Evander's city Pallanteum--the site of Rome (19-117). AEneas and
+Evander meet and feast together. The story of Cacus and the praises
+of Hercules are told and sung. Evander shows his city to AEneas
+(118-432). Venus asks and obtains from Vulcan divine armour for her
+son (433-531). At daybreak Evander promises AEneas further succour.
+Their colloquy is interrupted by a sign from heaven (532-630).
+Despatches are sent to Ascanius and prayers for aid to the Tuscans.
+AEneas, his men and Evander's son Pallas are sent forth by Evander
+with prayers for their success (631-720). Venus brings to AEneas the
+armour wrought by Vulcan (721-738). Virgil describes the shield, on
+which are depicted, not only the trials and triumphs of Rome's early
+kings and champions, but the final conflict also at Actium between
+East and West and the world-wide empire of Augustus (739-846).
+
+
+I.  When Turnus from Laurentum's tower afar
+    Signalled the strife, and bade the war-horns bray,
+    And stirred the mettled steeds, and woke the war,
+    Hearts leaped at once; all Latium swore that day
+    The oath of battle, burning for the fray.
+    Messapus, Ufens, and Mezentius vain,
+    Who scorned the Gods, ride foremost. Far away
+    They scour the fields; the shepherd and the swain
+Rush to the war, and bare of ploughmen lies the plain.
+
+II. To Diomed posts Venulus, to crave
+    His aid, and tell how Teucrians hold the land;
+    AEneas with his gods hath crossed the wave,
+    And claims the throne his vaunted Fates demand.
+    How many a tribe hath joined the Dardan's band,
+    How spreads his fame through Latium. What the foe
+    May purpose next, what conquest he hath planned,
+    Should friendly fortune speed the coming blow,
+Better than Latium's king AEtolia's lord must know.
+
+III. So Latium fares. AEneas, tost with tides
+    Of thought, for well he marked the growing fight,
+    This way and that his eager mind divides,
+    Reflects, revolves and ponders on his plight.
+    As waters in a brazen urn flash bright,
+    Smit by the sunbeam or the moon's pale rays,
+    And round the chamber flits the trembling light,
+    And darts aloft, and on the ceiling plays,
+So many a varying mood his anxious mind displays.
+
+IV. 'Twas night; the tired world rested. Far and nigh
+    All slept, the cattle and the fowls of air.
+    Stretched on a bank, beneath the cold, clear sky,
+    Lay good AEneas, fain at length to share
+    Late slumber, troubled by the war with care.
+    When, 'twixt the poplars, where the fair stream flows,
+    With azure mantle, and with sedge-crowned hair,
+    The aged Genius of the place uprose,
+And, standing by, thus spake, and comforted his woes:
+
+V.  "Blest seed of Heaven! who from the foemen's hand
+    Our Troy dost bring, and to an endless date
+    Preservest Pergama; whom Latium's land
+    Hath looked for, and Laurentum's fields await,
+    Here, doubt not, are thy homegods, here hath Fate
+    Thy home decreed. Let not war's terrors seem
+    To daunt thee. Heaven is weary of its hate;
+    Its storms are spent. Distrust not, nor esteem
+These words of idle worth, the coinage of a dream.
+
+VI. "Hard by, beneath yon oak-trees, thou shalt see
+    A huge, white swine, and, clustering around
+    Her teats, are thirty young ones, white as she.
+    There shall thy labour with repose be crown'd,
+    Thy city set. There Alba's walls renowned,
+    When twice ten times hath rolled the circling year,
+    Called Alba Longa, shall Ascanius found.
+    Sure stands the word; and now attend and hear,
+How best through present straits a prosperous course to steer.
+
+VII. "Arcadians here, a race of old renown,
+    From Pallas sprung, with king Evander came,
+    And on the hill-side built a chosen town,
+    Called Pallanteum, from their founder's name.
+    Year after year they ply the war's rude game
+    With Latins. Go, and win them to thy side,
+    Bid them as fellows to thy camp, and frame
+    A league. Myself along the banks will guide,
+And teach thy labouring oars to mount the opposing tide.
+
+VIII. "Rise, Goddess-born, and, when the stars decline,
+    Pray first to Juno, and on bended knee
+    Subdue her wrath with supplication. Mine
+    Shall be the victor's homage; I am he,
+    Heaven's favoured stream, whose brimming waves ye see,
+    Borne in full flood these flowery banks between,
+    Chafe the fat soil and cleave the fruitful lea,
+    Blue Tiber. Here my dwelling shall be seen,
+Fairest of lofty towns, the world's majestic queen."
+
+IX. So saying, the Stream-god dived beneath the flood,
+    And sought the deep. Slumber at once and night
+    Forsook AEneas; he arose, and stood,
+    And eastward gazing at the dawning light,
+    Scooped up the stream, obedient to the rite,
+    And prayed, "O nymphs, Laurentian nymphs, whence spring
+    All rivers; father Tiber, blest and bright,
+    Receive AEneas as your own, and bring
+Peace to his toil-worn heart, and shield the Dardan king.
+
+X.  "What pool soever holds thy source, where'er
+    The soil, from whence thou leapest to the day
+    In loveliness, these grateful hands shall bear
+    Due gifts, these lips shall hallow thee for aye,
+    Horned river, whom Hesperian streams obey,
+    Whose pity cheers; be with us, I entreat,
+    Confirm thy purpose, and thy power display."
+    He spake, and chose two biremes from the fleet,
+Equipped with oars, and rigged with crews and arms complete.
+
+XI. Lo! now a portent, wondrous to be seen.
+    Stretched at full length along the bank, they view
+    The fateful swine, conspicuous on the green,
+    White, with her litter of the self-same hue.
+    Her good AEneas, as an offering due,
+    To Juno, mightiest of all powers divine,
+    Yea, e'en to thee, dread Juno, caught and slew,
+    And lit the altars and outpoured the wine,
+And left the dam and brood together at the shrine.
+
+XII. All night the Tiber stayed his swelling flood,
+    And with hushed wave, recoiling from the main,
+    Calm as some pool or quiet lake, he stood
+    And smoothed his waters like a liquid plain,
+    That not an oar should either strive or strain.
+    Thus on they go; smooth glides the bark of pine,
+    Borne with glad shouts; and ever and again
+    The woods and waters wonder, as the line
+Of painted keels goes by, with arms of glittering shine.
+
+XIII. All night and day outwearying, they steer
+    Up the long reaches, through the groves, that lie
+    With green trees shadowing the tranquil mere.
+    Now flamed the sun in the meridian high,
+    When walls afar and citadel they spy,
+    And scattered roofs. Where now the power of Rome
+    Hath made her stately structures mate the sky,
+    Then poor and lowly stood Evander's home.
+Thither their prows are turned, and to the town they come.
+
+XIV. That day, Arcadia's monarch, in a grove
+    Before the town, a solemn feast had planned
+    To Hercules and all the gods above.
+    His son, young Pallas, and a youthful band,
+    And humble senators around him stand,
+    Each offering incense, and the warm, fresh blood
+    Still smokes upon the shrines, when, hard at hand,
+    They see the tall ships, through the shadowy wood,
+Glide up with silent oars along the sacred flood.
+
+XV. Scared by the sudden sight, all quickly rise
+    And quit the board. But Pallas, bold of cheer,
+    Bids them not break the worship. Forth he flies
+    To meet the strangers, as their ships appear,
+    His right hand brandishing a glittering spear.
+    "Gallants," he hails them from a mound afar,
+    "What drove you hither by strange ways to steer?
+    Say whither wending? who and what ye are?
+Your kin, and where your home? And bring ye peace or war?"
+
+XVI. Then sire AEneas from the stern outheld
+    A branch of olive, and bespake him fair:
+    "Troy's sons ye see, by Latin pride expelled.
+    'Gainst Latin enemies these arms we bear.
+    We seek Evander. Go, the news declare:
+    Choice Dardan chiefs his friendship come to claim.
+    His aid we ask for, and his arms would share."
+    He ceased, and wonder and amazement came
+On Pallas, struck with awe to hear the mighty name.
+
+XVII. "Whoe'er thou art, hail, stranger," he replied,
+    "Step forth, and to my father tell thy quest,
+    And take the welcome that true hearts provide."
+    Forth as he leaped, the Dardan's hand he pressed,
+    And, pressing, held it, and embraced his guest.
+    So from the river through the grove they fare,
+    And reach the place, where, feasting with the rest,
+    They find Evander. Him with speeches fair
+AEneas hails, and hastes his errand to declare.
+
+XVIII. "O best of Greeks, whom thus with olive bough
+    Hath Fortune willed me to entreat; yet so
+    I shunned thee not, albeit Arcadian thou,
+    A Danaan leader, in whose veins doth flow
+    The blood of Atreus, and my country's foe.
+    My conscious worth, our ties of ancestry,
+    Thy fame, which rumour through the world doth blow,
+    And Heaven's own oracles, by Fate's decree,
+My willing steps have led, and link my heart, to thee.
+
+XIX. "Troy's founder, Dardanus, to the Teucrians came,
+    Child of Electra, so the Greeks declare.
+    Huge Atlas was Electra's sire, the same
+    Whose shoulders still the starry skies upbear.
+    Your sire is Mercury, whom Maia fair
+    On chill Cyllene's summit bore of old;
+    And Maia's sire, if aught of truth we hear,
+    Was Atlas, he who doth the spheres uphold.
+Thus from a single stock the double stems unfold.
+
+XX. "Trusting to this, no embassy I sent,
+    No arts employed, thy purpose to explore.
+    Myself, my proper person, I present,
+    And stand a humble suppliant at thy door.
+    Thy foes are ours, the Daunian race, and sore
+    They grind us. If they drive us hence, they say,
+    Their conquering arms shall stretch from shore to shore.
+    Plight we our troth; strong arms are ours to-day,
+Stout hearts, and manhood proved in many a hard essay."
+
+XXI. He ceased. Long while Evander marked with joy
+    His face and eyes, and scanned through and through,
+    Then spake: "O bravest of the sons of Troy!
+    What joy to greet thee; thine the voice, the hue,
+    The face of great Anchises, whom I knew.
+    Well I remember, how, in days forepast,
+    Old Priam came to Salamis, to view
+    His sister's realms, Hesione's, and passed
+To far Arcadia, chilled with many a Northern blast.
+
+XXII. "Scarce o'er my cheeks the callow down had crept,
+    With wondering awe I viewed the Trojan train,
+    And gazed at Priam. But Anchises stepped
+    The tallest. Boyish ardour made me fain
+    To greet the hero, and his hand to strain.
+    I ventured, and to Pheneus brought my guest.
+    A Lycian case of arrows, bridles twain,
+    All golden--Pallas holds them,--and a vest
+And scarf of broidered gold his parting thanks expressed.
+
+XXIII. "Take then the hand thou seekest; be it thine,
+    The plighted pact; and when to-morrow's ray
+    Shall chase the shadows, and the dawn shall shine,
+    Aid will I give you, and due stores purvey,
+    And send you hence rejoicing on your way.
+    Meanwhile, since Heaven forbids us to postpone
+    These yearly rites, and we are friends, be gay
+    And share with us the banquet. Sit ye down,--
+Behold, the boards are spread,--and make the feast your own."
+
+XXIV. He spake, and back, at his command, they bring
+    The food and wine. The chiefs, in order meet,
+    Along the grass he ranges, and their king
+    Leads to his throne; of maple was the seat;
+    A lion's hide lay bristling at his feet.
+    Youths and the altar's minister bring wine,
+    And heap the bread, and serve the roasted meat.
+    On lustral entrails and the bull's whole chine,
+Couched round the Trojan king, the Trojan warriors dine.
+
+XXV. Then, when at last desire of food had ceased,
+    Thus spake Evander: "Lo, this solemn show,
+    This sacred altar, and this ordered feast,
+    No idle witchwork are they. Well we know
+    The ancient gods. Saved from a fearful foe,
+    Each year the deed we celebrate. See there
+    Yon nodding crag; behold the rocks below,
+    Tost in huge ruin, and the lonely lair,
+Scooped from the mountain's side, how wild the waste and bare!
+
+XXVI. "There yawned the cavern, in the rock's dark womb,
+    Wherein the monster Cacus dwelt of yore,
+    Half-human. Never sunlight pierced the gloom;
+    But day by day the rank earth reeked with gore,
+    And human faces, nailed above the door,
+    Hung, foul and ghastly. From the loins he came
+    Of Vulcan, and his huge mouth evermore
+    Spewed forth a torrent of Vulcanian flame;
+Proudly he stalked the earth, and shook the world's fair frame.
+
+XXVII. "But time, in answer to our prayers, one day
+    Brought aid,--a God to help us in our need.
+    Flushed with the death of Geryon, came this way
+    Alcides, glorying in the victor's meed,
+    And hither drove his mighty bulls to feed.
+    These, pasturing in the valley, from his lair
+    Fierce Cacus saw, and, scorning in his greed
+    To leave undone what crime or craft could dare,
+Four beauteous heifers stole, four oxen sleek and fair.
+
+XXVIII. "Then, lest their footprints should the track declare,
+    Back by their tails he dragged the captured kine,
+    With hoofs reversed, and shut them in his lair,
+    And whoso sought the cavern found no sign.
+    But when at last Amphitryon's son divine,
+    His feasted herds, preparing to remove,
+    Called from their pastures, and in long-drawn line,
+    With plaintive lowing, the departing drove
+Trooped from the echoing hills, and clamours filled the grove,
+
+XXIX. "One of the heifers from the cave again
+    Lowed back, in answer to the sound, and broke
+    The hopes of Cacus, and his theft was plain.
+    Black choler in Alcides' breast awoke.
+    Grasping his arms and club of knotted oak,
+    Straight to the sky-capt Aventine he hies,
+    And scales the steep. Then, not till then, our folk
+    Saw Cacus tremble. To the cave he flies,
+Wing'd like the wind with fear, and terror in his eyes.
+
+XXX. "Scarce in, the rock he loosened with a blow,
+    Slung high in iron by his father's care,
+    And with the barrier blocked the door; when lo,
+    With heart aflame, great Hercules was there,
+    And searched each way for access to his lair,
+    Grinding his teeth. Thrice round the mount he threw
+    His vengeful eyes, thrice strove from earth to tear
+    The stone, and storm the threshold, thrice withdrew,
+And in the vale sat down, and nursed his wrath anew.
+
+XXXI. "Sharp-pointed, sheer above the dungeon, stood
+    A crag, fit home for evil birds to light.
+    This, where it frowned to leftward o'er the flood,
+    Alcides shook, and, heaving from the right,
+    Tore from its roots, and headlong down the height
+    Impelled it. With the impulse and the fall
+    Heaven thunders; back the river in affright
+    Shrinks to its source. Bank leaps from bank, and all
+The mountain, yawning, shows the monster's cave and hall.
+
+XXXII. "Stript of their roof, the dark abodes far back
+    Lie open to their inmost; e'en as though
+    Earth, rent asunder with convulsive wrack,
+    And opening to the centre, gaped to show
+    Hell's regions, and the gloomy realms of woe,
+    Abhorr'd of gods, and bare to mortals lay
+    The vast abyss, while in the gulf below
+    The pallid spectres, huddling in dismay,
+Looked up with dazzled eyes, at influx of the day.
+
+XXXIII. "Caught in his den, the startled monster strove,
+    With uncouth bellowing, to elude the light.
+    With darts Alcides plies him from above,
+    Huge trunks and millstones seizing for the fight,
+    Hard pressed at length, and desperate for flight,
+    Black smoke he vomits, wondrous to be told,
+    That shrouds the cavern, and obscures the sight,
+    And, denser than the night, around his hold
+Thick darkness, mixt with fire, and smothering fumes are rolled.
+
+XXXIV. "Scorn filled Alcides, and his wrath outbroke,
+    And through the fire, indignant, with a bound
+    He dashes, where thickest rolled the cloud of smoke,
+    And in black vapours all the cave was drowned.
+    Here, vomiting his idle flames, he found
+    Huge Cacus in the darkness. Like a thread
+    He twists him--chokes him--pins him to the ground,
+    The strangled eyeballs starting from his head;
+Blood leaves the blackened throat, the giant form lies dead.
+
+XXXV. "Then suddenly, as back the doors are torn,
+    The gloomy den stands open, and the prey,
+    The stolen oxen, and the spoils forsworn,
+    Are bared to heaven, and by the heels straightway
+    He drags the grisly carcase to the day.
+    All, thronging round, with hungry gaze admire
+    The monster. Lost in wonder and dismay
+    They mark the eyes, late terrible with ire,
+The face, the bristly breast, the jaw's extinguished fire.
+
+XXXVI. "Henceforth they solemnise this day divine,
+    Their glad posterity from year to year,
+    Potitius first, and the Pinarian line,
+    Preserve the praise of Hercules; and here
+    This altar named 'the Greatest' did they rear.
+    (Greatest 'twill be for ever). Come then, all,
+    And give such worth due honour. Wreathe your hair,
+    And pass the wine-bowl merrily, and call
+Each on our common God, the guardian of us all."
+
+XXXVII. He spake; the God's own poplar, fleckt with white,
+    Hung, twining o'er his brows. His right hand bore
+    The sacred bowl. All, gladdening, hail the rite,
+    And pour libations, and the Gods adore.
+    'Twas evening, and the Western star once more
+    Sloped towards Olympus. Forth Potitius came,
+    Leading the priests, girt roughly, as of yore,
+    With skins of beasts, and bearing high the flame.
+Fresh, dainty gifts they bring, the second course to frame.
+
+XXXVIII. Next came the Salians, dancing as they sung
+    Around the blazing altars. Poplar crowned
+    Their brows; a double chorus, old and young,
+    Chant forth the glories and the deeds renowned
+    Of Hercules; how, potent to confound
+    His stepdame's hate, he crushed the serpents twain;
+    What towns in war he levelled to the ground,
+    Troy and OEchalia; how with infinite pain
+Eurystheus' tasks he sped, and Juno's fates were vain:
+
+XXXIX. "Oh thou, unconquered, whose resistless hand
+    Smote the twin giants of the cloud-born crew,
+    Pholus, Hylaeus; and the Cretan land
+    Freed from its monster; and in Nemea slew
+    The lion! Styx hath trembled at thy view,
+    And Cerberus, when, smeared with gore, he lay
+    On bones half-mumbled in his darksome mew.
+    Thee not Typhoeus, when in armed array
+He towered erect, could daunt, nor grisly shapes dismay.
+
+XL. "Prompt was thy wit, when, powerless to prevail,
+    Around thee twined, the beast of Lerna's fen
+    Hissed with the legion of its heads. O hail,
+    True son of Jove, the praise of mortal men,
+    And Heaven's new glory. Hither turn thy ken,
+    And cheer thy votaries." So with heart and will
+    They chant his praise, nor less the monster's den,
+    And Cacus, breathing flames. The loud notes fill
+The sacred grove around, and echo to the hill.
+
+XLI. The rites thus ended, to the town they fare.
+    In front, the good Evander, old and grey,
+    Moves 'twixt AEneas and his youthful heir,
+    And oft with various converse, as they stray,
+    Beguiles the lightened labour of the way.
+    Now this, now that the Trojan chief admires,
+    Filled with new pleasure, as his eyes survey
+    Each place in turn. Oft, gladly he enquires
+The tokens, one by one, and tales of ancient sires.
+
+XLII. Then he, who built the citadel of Rome,
+    Spake thus--the good Evander: "Yonder view
+    The forest; 'twas the Fauns' and Wood-nymphs' home.
+    Their birth from trunks and rugged oaks they drew;
+    No arts they had, nor settled life, nor knew
+    To yoke the ox, or lay up stores, or spare
+    What wealth they gathered; but their wants were few;
+    The branches gave them sustenance, whate'er
+In toilsome chase they won, composed their scanty fare.
+
+XLIII. "Then first came Saturn from Olympus' height,
+    Flying from Jove, his kingdom barred and banned,
+    He taught the scattered hillsmen to unite,
+    And gave them laws, and bade the name to stand
+    Of Latium, he safe latent in the land.
+    Then tranquilly the happy seasons rolled
+    Year after year, and Peace, with plenteous hand,
+    Smiled on his sceptre. 'Twas the Age of Gold,
+So well his placid sway the willing folk controlled.
+
+XLIV. "Then waxed the times degenerate, and the stain
+    With stealthy growth gave birth to deeds of shame,
+    The rage of battle, and the lust of gain.
+    Then came Ausonians, then Sicanians came,
+    And oft the land of Saturn changed its name.
+    Strange tyrants came, and ruled Italia's shore,
+    Grim-visaged Thybris, of gigantic frame;
+    His name henceforth the river Tiber bore,
+And Albula's old name was known, alas! no more.
+
+XLV. "Me, from my country driven forth to roam
+    The utmost deep, perforce the Fates' design
+    And Fortune's power drove hitherward. This home
+    My mother, Nymph Carmentis, warned was mine;
+    A god, Apollo, did these shores assign."
+    So saying, he shows the altar and the gate
+    Long called Carmental, from the Nymph divine,
+    First seer who sang, with faithful voice, how great
+AEneas' race should rise, and Pallanteum's fate.
+
+XLVI. He shows the grove of Romulus, his famed
+    Asylum; then, beneath the rock's cold crest
+    Lupercal's cave, from Pan Lycaean named;
+    Then, Argiletum's grove, whose shades attest
+    The death of Argus, once the monarch's guest;
+    Tarpeia's rock, the Capitolian height,
+    Now golden--rugged 'twas of old, a nest
+    Of tangled brakes, yet hallowed was the site
+E'en then, and wood and rock filled the rude hinds with fright.
+
+XLVII. "These wooded steeps," he said, "this sacred grove
+    What godhead haunts, we know not; legends say
+    Arcadians here have seen the form of Jove,
+    And seen his right hand, with resistless sway,
+    Shake the dread AEgis, and the clouds array.
+    See, yon two cities, once renowned by fame,
+    Now ruined walls and crumbling to decay;
+    This Janus built, those walls did Saturn frame;
+Janiculum was this, that bore Saturnia's name."
+
+XLVIII. So talking, to Evander's lowly seat
+    They journeyed. Herds were lowing on the plain,
+    Where stand the Forum and Carinae's street.
+    "These gates," said he, "did great Alcides deign
+    To pass; this palace did the god contain.
+    Dare thou to quit thee like the god, nor dread
+    To scorn mere wealth, nor humble cheer disdain."
+    So saying, AEneas through the door he led,
+And skins of Libyan bears on garnered leaves outspread.
+
+XLIX. Night, with dark wings descending, wrapt the world,
+    When Venus, harassed, nor in vain, with fear,
+    To see the menace at Laurentum hurled,
+    To Vulcan, on his golden couch, drew near,
+    Breathing immortal passion: "Husband dear,
+    When Greeks the fated citadel of Troy
+    With fire and sword were ravaging, or ere
+    Her towers had fallen, I sought not to employ
+Arms, arts or aid of thine, their purpose to destroy.
+
+L.  "Ne'er taxed I then thy labours, dearest love,
+    Large as my debt to Priam's sons, and sore
+    My grief for poor AEneas. Now, since Jove
+    Hath brought him here to the Rutulian shore,
+    Thine arms I ask, thy deity implore,
+    A mother for her son. Dread power divine,
+    Whom Thetis, whom Tithonus' spouse of yore
+    Could move with tears, behold, what hosts combine,
+What towns, with barr'd gates, arm to ruin me and mine."
+
+LI. She spake, and both her snowy arms outflung
+    Around him doubting, and embraced the Sire,
+    And, softly fondling, kissed him as she clung.
+    Through bones and veins her melting charms inspire
+    The well-known heat, and reawake desire.
+    So, riven by the thunder, through the pile
+    Of storm-clouds runs the glittering cleft of fire.
+    Proud of her beauty, with a conscious smile,
+The Goddess feels her power, and gladdens at the guile.
+
+LII. Then Vulcan, mastered by immortal love,
+    Answers his spouse, "Why, Goddess mine, invent
+    Such far-fetched pleas? Dost thou thy faith remove,
+    And cease to trust in Vulcan? Had thy bent
+    So moved thee then, arms quickly had I lent
+    To aid thy Trojans, and thy wish were gained,
+    Nor envious Fate, nor Jove omnipotent
+    Had crossed my purpose; then had Troy remained,
+And Priam ten years more the kingly line sustained.
+
+LIII. "E'en now, if war thou seekest to prepare,
+    And thither tends thy purpose, be it sped.
+    Whate'er my craft can promise, whatso'er
+    Is wrought with iron, ivory or lead,
+    Fanned with the blast, or molten in the bed,
+    Thine be it all; forbear a suppliant's quest,
+    Nor wrong thy beauty's potency." He said,
+    And gave the love she longed for; on her breast
+Outpoured at length he slept, and loosed his limbs with rest.
+
+LIV. 'Twas midnight; sleep had faded from its prime,
+    The hour, when housewives, who a scanty fare
+    Eke out with loom and distaff, rise in time
+    To wake the embers, and the night outwear;
+    Then call their handmaids, by the light to share
+    The task, that keeps the husband's bed from shame,
+    And earns a pittance for the babes. So there,
+    Nor tardier, to his toil the Lord of Flame
+Springs from his couch of down, the workmen's task to frame.
+
+LV. Hard by AEolian Lipare, before
+    Sicania, looms an island from the deep,
+    With smoking rocks. There AEtna's caverns roar,
+    Hewn by the Cyclop's forges from the steep.
+    There the steel hisses and the sparks upleap,
+    And clanging anvils, smit with dexterous aim,
+    Groan through the cavern, as their strokes they heap,
+    And restless in the furnace pants the flame.
+'Twas Vulcan's house, the land even yet bears Vulcan's name.
+
+LVI. Down to this cavern came the Lord of Flame,
+    And found Pyracmon, naked as he strove,
+    Brontes and Steropes. Their hands still frame
+    A thunderbolt unfinished, such as Jove
+    Rains thickly from his armouries above,
+    Tipt with twelve barbs and never known to fail.
+    Part still remain unwrought; three rays they wove
+    Of ruddy fire, three of the Southern gale,
+Three of the watery cloud, and three of twisted hail.
+
+LVII. They blend the frightful flashes and the peals,
+    Sound, fear, and fury with the flames behind.
+    These forge the War-Gods' chariot and swift wheels,
+    Which stir up cities, and arouse mankind.
+    Here, burnished bright for wrathful Pallas, shined,
+    With serpent scales, and golden links firm bound,
+    Her dreadful AEgis, and the snakes entwined;
+    And on her breast, with severed neck, still frowned
+Medusa's head, and rolled her dying eyes around.
+
+LVIII. "Cease now," said Vulcan, "and these toils forbear,
+    Cyclops of AEtna; hither turn your heed.
+    Arms for a hero must the forge prepare.
+    Now use your strength and nimble hands; ye need
+    A master's cunning; to your tasks with speed."
+    He spake; each quickly at the word once more
+    Falls to his labour, as the lots decreed.
+    Now flows the copper, now the golden ore;
+Now melts the deadly steel; the flames resume their roar.
+
+LIX. A mighty shield they fashion, fit to meet
+    Singly all arms of Latium. Layer on layer,
+    Seven folds in circles on its face they beat.
+    These from the windy bellows force the air,
+    These hissing copper for the forge prepare,
+    Dipt in the trough. The cavern floor below
+    Groans with the anvils and the strokes they bear,
+    As strong arms timed heap measured blow on blow,
+And, turned with griping tongs, the molten mass doth glow.
+
+LX. While on AEolia's coast the Lemnian sire
+    Wrought thus, the fair Dawn, mantling in the skies,
+    Awakes Evander, and the lowly choir
+    Of birds beneath the eaves invites to rise.
+    The Tuscan sandals to his feet he ties,
+    The kirtle dons, the Tegeaean sword
+    Links to his side. A panther's skin supplies
+    His scarf, hung leftward, and his watchful ward,
+Two dogs, the threshold leave, and 'company their lord.
+
+LXI. So to the chamber of his Dardan guest
+    The good Evander for his promise' sake
+    Full early hastens pondering in his breast
+    The tale he listened to, the words he spake.
+    Nor less AEneas, with the dawn awake,
+    Goes forth. Achates at his side attends,
+    His son, young Pallas, doth Evander take.
+    So meeting, each a willing hand extends,
+And host and guest sit down, and frankly talk as friends.
+
+LXII. First spake the King: "Great Chief of Trojan fame,
+    Who living, ne'er the Trojan state is lost.
+    Small is our strength for war, though great our name.
+    Here Tiber bounds us, there Rutulians boast
+    To rend our walls, and thunder with their host.
+    But mighty tribes and wealthy realms shall band
+    Their arms with mine. Chance, where unlooked-for most,
+    Points to this succour. By the Fate's command
+Thou comest; thee the gods have guided to our land.
+
+LXIII. "Not far from here, upon an aged rock,
+    There stands a town, Agylla is its name,
+    Where on Etruscan ridges dwells the stock
+    Of ancient Lydia, men of warlike fame.
+    Long years it flourished, till Mezentius came
+    And ruled it fiercely, with a tyrant's sway.
+    Ah me! why tell the nameless deeds of shame,
+    The savage murders wrought from day to day?
+May Heaven on him and his those cruelties repay!
+
+LXIV. "Nay more, he joined the living to the dead,
+    Hand linked to hand in torment, face to face.
+    The rank flesh mouldered, and the limbs still bled,
+    Till death, O misery, with lingering pace,
+    Loosed the foul union and the long embrace.
+    Worn out at last with all his crimes abhorred,
+    Around the horrid madman swarmed apace
+    The armed Agyllans. On his roof they poured
+The firebrands, seized his guards and slew them with the sword.
+
+LXV. "He safely through the carnage slunk away
+    To fields Rutulian, where with sheltering hand
+    Great Turnus shields the tyrant. So to-day,
+    Stirred with just fury, all Etruria's land
+    Springs to the war, prompt vengeance to demand.
+    Thine be these all, for thousands can I boast,
+    AEneas, thine to captain and command.
+    Mark now their shouts; already roars the host,
+'Arm, bring the banners forth'; their vessels crowd the coast.
+
+LXVI. "An aged seer thus warns them to refrain,
+    Expounding Fate: 'Choice youths, the flower and show
+    Of ancient warriors of Meonian strain,
+    Whom just resentment arms against the foe,
+    Whose souls with hatred of Mezentius glow,
+    No man of Italy is fit to lead
+    So vast a multitude, the Fates say "No;
+    Seek ye a foreign captain."' Awed, they heed
+The warning words divine, and camp upon the mead.
+
+LXVII. "Lo, Tarchon sends ambassadors; they bring
+    The crown, and sceptre, and the signs of state,
+    And bid me join the Tuscans as their king.
+    But frosty years have dulled me; life is late,
+    And envious Age forbids an Empire's weight.
+    Fit were my son, but half Italian he,
+    His mother born a Sabine. Thee hath Fate
+    Endowed with years and proper birth; for thee
+The Gods this throne have willed, and, what they will, decree.
+
+LXVIII. "Advance, brave Chief of Italy and Troy!
+    Advance; young Pallas at thy side shall fare,
+    My hope, my solace, and my heart's best joy.
+    With thee to teach him, he shall learn to share
+    The war's grim work, the warrior's toil to bear;
+    From earliest youth to marvel at thy deeds,
+    And try to match them. Horsemen shall be there,
+    Ten score, the choicest that Arcadia breeds;
+Two hundred more, his own, the gallant stripling leads."
+
+LXIX. He spake: AEneas and Achates stood
+    With down-fixt eyes, musing the strange event.
+    Dark thoughts were theirs, and sorrowful their mood;
+    When lo, to leftward Cytherea sent
+    A sign amid the open firmament.
+    A flash of lightning swift from ether sprang
+    With thunder. Turmoil universal blent
+    Earth, sea and sky; the empyrean rang
+With arms, and loudly pealed the Tuscan trumpet's clang.
+
+LXX. Upward they look: again and yet again
+    Comes the loud crash of thunder, and between
+    A cloud that frets the firmamental plain,
+    With bright, red flash amid the sky serene,
+    The glitter of resounding arms is seen.
+    All tremble; but AEneas hails the sign
+    Long-promised. "Ask not," he exclaims, "what mean
+    These prodigies and portents; they are mine.
+Me great Olympus calls; I hear the voice divine.
+
+LXXI. "This sign my Goddess-mother vowed to send,
+    If war should threaten; thus in armed array
+    From heaven with aid she promised to descend.
+    Ah, woe for thee, Laurentum, soon the prey
+    Of foeman! What a reckoning shalt thou pay
+    To me, ill-fated Turnus! How thy wave
+    Shall redden, Tiber, as it rolls away
+    Helmets, and shields and bodies of the brave!
+Ay, let them break the league, and bid the War-god rave."
+
+LXXII. He spake, and, rising from his seat, renews
+    The slumbering fires of Hercules, and tends
+    The hearth-god's shrine of yesterday. Choice ewes
+    They slay--Evander and his Trojan friends.
+    Then to his comrades and the shore he wends,
+    Arrays the crews, and takes the bravest there
+    To follow him in fight. The rest he sends
+    To young Ascanius down the stream, to bear
+News of his absent sire, and how the cause doth fare.
+
+LXXIII. With steeds, to aid the Tuscans, they provide
+    The Teucrians. For AEneas forth is led
+    The choicest, with a tawny lion's hide,
+    All glittering with gilded claws, bespread.
+    Now rumour through the little town hath sped,
+    Of horsemen for the Tuscan king, with spear
+    And shield for battle. Mothers, pale with dread,
+    Heap vows on vows. The War-god, drawing near,
+Looms larger, and more close to danger draws the fear.
+
+LXXIV. Then cries Evander, clinging, and with tears
+    Insatiate, loth to see his Pallas go,
+    "Ah! would but Jove bring back the bygone years,
+    As when beneath Praeneste long ago
+    I strowed the van, and laid their mightiest low,
+    And burned their shields, and with this hand to Hell
+    Hurled down King Erulus, the monstrous foe,
+    To whom Feronia, terrible to tell,
+Three lives had given, and thrice to battle ere he fell.
+
+LXXV. "Twice up he rose, but thrice I slew the slain,
+    Thrice of his life I robbed him, till he died,
+    Thrice stripped his arms. O, were I such again,
+    Danger, nor death, nor aught of ill beside,
+    Sweet son, should ever tear me from thy side.
+    Ne'er had Mezentius then, the neighbouring lord,
+    Dared thus to flout me, nor this arm defied.
+    Nor wrought such havoc and such crimes abhorred,
+Nor made a weeping town thus widowed by the sword.
+
+LXXVI. "O Gods, and thou, who rulest earth and air,
+    Great Jove, their mightiest, pity, I implore,
+    Arcadia's King, and hear a father's prayer.
+    If Fate this happiness reserve in store,
+    To gaze upon my Pallas' face once more,
+    If living means to meet my son again,
+    Then let me live; how hard soe'er and sore
+    My trials, gladly will I count them gain.
+Sweet will the suffering seem, and light the load of pain.
+
+LXXVII. "But O, if Fortune, with malignant spite,
+    Some blow past utterance for my life prepare,
+    Now, now this moment rid me of the light,
+    While fears are vague, nor hoping breeds despair,
+    While, dearest boy, my late and only care,
+    Thus--thus I fold thee in my arms to-day.
+    Nor wound with news too sorrowful to bear
+    A father's ears!" He spake, and swooned away;
+Back to his home the slaves their fainting lord convey.
+
+LXXVIII. Forth troop the horsemen from the gates. First ride
+    AEneas and Achates; in the rear
+    Troy's nobles, led by Pallas, in the pride
+    Of broidered scarf and figured arms, appear.
+    As when bright Lucifer, to Venus dear
+    Beyond all planets and each starry beam,
+    High up in heaven his sacred head doth rear,
+    Bathed in the freshness of the Ocean stream,
+And melts the dark, so fair the gallant youth doth seem.
+
+LXXIX. The matrons stand upon the walls, distraught,
+    And mark the dust-cloud and the mail-clad train.
+    These through the brushwood, where the road lies short,
+    Move on in arms. The war-shout peals again,
+    The hard hoofs clattering shake the crumbling plain.
+    And now, where, cold with crystal waves, is found
+    Fair Caere's stream, a spreading grove they gain.
+    Ages have spread its sanctity, and, crowned
+With pine-woods dark as night, the hollow hills stand round.
+
+LXXX. This grove, 'tis said, the tribes Pelasgian--they,
+    Who first in Latin marches dwelt of old--
+    Kept sacred to Silvanus, and the day
+    Vowed to the guardian of the field and fold.
+    Hard by, brave Tarchon and his Tuscans bold
+    Lay camped. His legions, stretching o'er the meads,
+    The Trojans from a rising ground behold.
+    AEneas here his toil-worn warriors leads;
+Food for themselves they bring, and forage for their steeds.
+
+LXXXI. Meanwhile fair Venus through the clouds came down,
+    Bearing her gifts. Couched in a secret glade,
+    By a cool river, she espies her son,
+    And hails him: "See the promised gifts displayed,
+    Wrought by my husband's cunning for thine aid.
+    Thy prowess now let proud Laurentum taste,
+    Nor fear with Turnus to contend." So said
+    Cythera's goddess, and her child embraced,
+And on an oak in front the radiant arms she placed.
+
+LXXXII. Joy fills AEneas; with insatiate gaze
+    He views the gifts, and marvels at the sight.
+    In turn he handles, and in turn surveys
+    The helmet tall with fiery crest bedight,
+    The fateful sword, the breastplate's brazen might,
+    Blood-red, and huge, and glorious to behold
+    As some dark cloud, far-blazing with the light
+    Of sunset; then the polished greaves of gold,
+The spear, the mystic shield, too wondrous to be told.
+
+LXXXIII. There did the Fire-king, who the future cons,
+    The tale of ancient Italy portray,
+    Rome's triumphs, and Ascanius' distant sons,
+    Their wars in order, and each hard-fought fray.
+    There, in the cave of Mars all verdurous, lay
+    The fostering she-wolf with the twins; they hung
+    About her teats, and licked in careless play
+    Their mother. She, with slim neck backward flung,
+In turn caressed them both, and shaped them with her tongue.
+
+LXXXIV. There, later Rome, and there, the Sabine dames
+    Amid the crowded theatre he viewed,
+    Raped by the Romans at the Circus games;
+    The sudden war, that from the deed ensued,
+    With aged Tatius and his Cures rude.
+    There stand the kings, still armed, but foes no more,
+    Beside Jove's altar, and abjure the feud.
+    Goblet in hand, the sacred wine they pour,
+And o'er the slaughtered swine the plighted peace restore.
+
+LXXXV. Next, Mettus, by the four-horsed chariot torn.
+    ('Twere better, perjured Alban, to be true!)
+    Fierce Tullus dragged the traitor's limbs in scorn
+    Through brambles, dripping with the crimson dew.
+    Porsenna there around the city drew
+    His 'leaguering host. But freedom fired the blood
+    Of Romans. Idle was his rage, to view
+    How Cocles on the battered bridge withstood,
+And Cloelia burst her bonds, and singly stemmed the flood.
+
+LXXXVI. Next, Manlius guards the Capitol; see here
+    The straw-thatched palace. Silvered in the gold,
+    The fluttering goose proclaims the Gauls are near.
+    They, screened by darkness, thread the woods, and hold
+    With arms the slumbering citadel. Behold
+    Their beards all golden, and their golden hair,
+    Their white necks gleaming with the twisted gold,
+    Their chequered plaids. Each hand an Alpine spear
+Waves, and an oblong shield their stalwart arms upbear.
+
+LXXXVII. There danced the Salians, the Luperci reeled
+    Half-naked. See them sculptured in array,
+    With caps wool-tufted, and the sky-dropt shield.
+    Chaste dames, in cushioned chariots, lead the way
+    Through the glad city. Elsewhere, far away,
+    Loom Dis and Tartarus, where the guilty pine,
+    And Catiline, upon a rock for aye
+    Hangs, shuddering at the Furies. Distant shine
+The just, where Cato stands, dealing the law divine.
+
+LXXXVIII. The swelling ocean in the midst is seen,
+    All golden, but the billow's hoary spray
+    Foams o'er the blue. Dolphins of silvery sheen
+    Lash the white eddies with their tails in play,
+    Cleaving the surges. In the centre lay
+    The brazen fleets, all panoplied for war,
+    'Tis Actium's fight; Leucate's headland grey
+    Boils with the tumult of the distant jar,
+And golden glow the waves, effulgent from afar.
+
+LXXXIX. Augustus his Italians leads from home,
+    High on the stern. The Senators stand round,
+    The people, and the guardian gods of Rome.
+    With double flame his joyous brows are crowned;
+    The constellation of his sire renowned
+    Beams o'er his head. There too, his ships in line,
+    With winds and gods to prosper him, is found
+    Agrippa. Radiant on his head doth shine
+The crown of golden beaks, the battle's glorious sign.
+
+XC. Here, late from Parthia and the Red-sea coast,
+    With motley legions and barbaric pride,
+    Comes Anthony. From Egypt swarms his host,
+    From India and far Bactra. At his side
+    Stands--shame to tell it--an Egyptian bride.
+    See now the fight; prows churn and oar-blades lash
+    The foam. 'Twould seem the Cyclads swim the tide,
+    Torn from his moorings, or the mountains clash,
+So huge the tower-crowned ships, so terrible the crash.
+
+XCI. Winged darts are hurled, and flaming tow; the leas
+    Of Neptune redden. There the queen stands by,
+    And sounds the timbrel for the fray, nor sees
+    The asps behind. All monsters of the sky
+    With Neptune, Venus, and Minerva vie.
+    In vain Anubis barks; Mars raves among
+    The combatants; the Furies frown on high.
+    With mantle rent, glad Discord joins the throng;
+Behind, with bloody scourge, Bellona stalks along.
+
+XCII. There Actian Phoebus, gazing on the scene,
+    Bent his dread bow. Egypt, Arabia fled,
+    And India turned in terror. There, the queen
+    Calls to the winds; behold, the sails are spread.
+    Her, pale with thoughts of dying, through the dead
+    The waves and zephyrs--so the gold expressed--
+    Bear onward. Yonder, to his sheltering bed
+    Nile, sorrowing, calls the fugitives to rest,
+Unfolds his winding robes, and bares his azure breast.
+
+XCIII. There, Caesar sacred to his gods proclaims
+    Three hundred temples, each a stately fane.
+    Behold his triple triumph. Shouts and games
+    Gladden the streets; glad matrons chant the strain
+    At every altar, and the steers are slain.
+    He takes the offerings, and reviews the throng,
+    Throned in the portal of Apollo's fane.
+    Below, the captive nations march along,
+Diverse in arms and garb, and each of different tongue.
+
+XCIV. Wild Nomads, Africans uncinctured came,
+    Carians, Gelonian bowmen, and behind
+    The Leleges, the Dahae, hard to tame,
+    The Morini, extreme of human-kind.
+    Last, proud Araxes, whom no bridge could bind,
+    Euphrates humbled, and the horned Rhine.
+    All this, by Vulcan on the shield designed,
+    He sees, and, gladdening at the gift divine,
+Upbears aloft the fame and fortunes of his line.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK NINE
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+Certified by Juno of the absence of AEneas, Turnus leads his forces
+against the Trojans. When they entrench themselves within their
+lines, he attempts to burn their ships, which are thereupon changed
+by Cybele into nymphs, and float away (1-144). Turnus undaunted
+harangues his men and beleaguers the camp (145-198). Nisus and
+Euryalus scheme, and petition, to sally forth to find AEneas and a
+rescue. Setting out with promise of rich rewards if successful, they
+surprise the Latin Camp but are themselves in turn surprised and
+slain (199-513). Their victims are buried; their heads are paraded
+on pikes before the Trojan Camp, to the agony of the mother of
+Euryalus (514-576). The allies assault the camp. Virgil invokes
+Calliope to describe the fray (577-603). The collapse of a tower and
+losses on both sides prelude Ascanius' baptism of fire. He kills his
+man (604-765). The brothers Pandarus and Bitias open the camp-gates
+in defiance. Bitias falls, and Pandarus, retreating, shuts Turnus
+within the camp, who kills him, but failing to let in his friends
+is eventually hard pressed (766-882). The Trojans rally round
+Mnestheus and Serestus. Turnus plunges into the river and with
+difficulty escapes by swimming (883-927).
+
+
+I.  While thus in distant quarter moves the scene,
+    Down to the daring Turnus from the skies
+    Comes Iris, sent by the Saturnian queen.
+    Him seated in a hallowed vale, where lies
+    His father's grove, Pilumnus', she espies.
+    There straight with rosy lips the daughter fair
+    Of Thaumas hails the hero: "Turnus, rise.
+    Behold what none of all the Gods would dare
+To promise, rolling Time hath proffered without prayer.
+
+II. "Fleet left and friends, AEneas to the court
+    Of Palatine Evander speeds his way,
+    Nay, the far towns of Corythus hath sought,
+    And arms the Lydian swains to meet the fray!
+    Now call for steel and chariot. Why delay?
+    Surprise the camp and capture it."--She said,
+    And straight on balanced pinions soared away,
+    Cleaving the bow. The warrior marked, and spread
+His hands, and thus with prayer pursued her as she fled:
+
+III. "O Iris, Heaven's fair glory, who hath sent
+    Thee hither? whence this sudden light so clear?
+    I see the firmament asunder rent,
+    And planets wandering in the polar sphere.
+    Blest omens, hail! I follow thee, whoe'er
+    Thou art, that call'st to battle." He arose
+    With joy, and stepping to the streamlet near,
+    Scoops up the water in his palms, and bows
+In suppliance to the Gods, and burdens Heaven with vows.
+
+IV. Now all the host were marching on the meads,
+    Well-horsed, and panoplied in golden gear,
+    With broidered raiment. Brave Messapus leads
+    The van, the sons of Tyrrheus close the rear,
+    And Turnus in mid column shakes his spear.
+    Slow moves the host, as when his seven-fold head
+    Great Ganges lifts in silence, calm and clear,
+    Or Nile, whose flood the fruitful soil hath fed,
+Ebbs from the fattened fields, and hides him in his bed.
+
+V.  Far off, the Teucrians from their camp descried
+    The gathering dust-cloud on the plains appear.
+    Then brave Caicus from a bastion cried,
+    "What dark mass, rolling towards us, have we here?
+    Arm, townsmen, arm! Bring quick the sword and spear,
+    And mount the battlements, and man the wall.
+    The foemen, ho!" And with a mighty cheer
+    The Teucrians, hurrying at the warning call,
+Pour in through all the gates, and muster on the wall.
+
+VI. So, parting, wise AEneas gave command,
+    Should chance surprise them, with their chief away,
+    To shun the field, nor battle hand to hand,
+    But safe behind their sheltering earthworks stay,
+    And, guarding wall and rampart, stand at bay.
+    So now, though passion and indignant hate
+    Prompt to engage, his mandate they obey,
+    And bar each inlet, and secure each gate,
+And, armed, in sheltering towers their enemies await.
+
+VII. Turnus, with twenty horsemen, left the rest
+    To lag behind, and near the town-gate drew
+    All unforeseen. A Thracian steed he pressed,
+    Dappled with white; a crest of scarlet hue
+    High o'er his golden helmet flamed in view.
+    Loudly he shrills in anger to his train,
+    "Who first with me will at the foemen--who?
+    See there!" and, rising hurls his spear amain,
+Sign of the fight begun, and pricks along the plain.
+
+VIII. With shouts his comrades welcome the attack,
+    And clamouring fiercely follow in his train.
+    They marvel at the Teucrian hearts so slack,
+    That none will dare to trust the open plain,
+    And fight like men, but in the camp remain,
+    And safe behind their sheltering rampart stay.
+    Now here, now there, fierce Turnus in disdain
+    Rides round the walls, and, searching for a way,
+Where way is none, still strives an entrance to essay.
+
+IX. As wolf, in ambush by the fold, sore beat
+    With winds, at midnight howls amid the rain.
+    The lambs beneath their mothers safely bleat.
+    He, mad with rage, and faint with famine's pain,
+    Thirsts for their blood, and ramps at them in vain;
+    So raves fierce Turnus, as his eyes survey
+    The walls and camp. Grief burns in every vein,
+    As round he looks for access and a way
+To shake the Teucrians out, and strew them forth to slay.
+
+X.  The fleet, as by the flanking camp it lies,
+    Fenced by the river and the mounded sand,
+    He marks, then loudly to the burning cries,
+    And with a flaming pinestock fills his hand,
+    Himself aflame. His presence cheers the band.
+    All set to work, and strip the watchfires bare:
+    Each warrior arms him with a murky brand:
+    The smoking torch shoots up a pitchy glare,
+And clouds of mingled soot the Fire-god flings in air.
+
+XI. Say, Muse, what god from Teucrians turned the flame,
+    Such fiery havoc. O, the tale declare;
+    Old is its faith, but deathless is its fame.
+    When first AEneas did his fleet prepare
+    'Neath Phrygian Ida, through the seas to fare,
+    To Jove the Berecynthian queen divine
+    Spake thus, 'tis said, urging a suppliant's prayer:
+    "O Lord Olympian, hearken and incline.
+Grant what thy mother asks, who made Olympus thine.
+
+XII. "A wood, beloved for many a year, was mine,
+    A grove of sacrifice, on Ida's height,
+    Darksome with maple and the swart pitch-pine.
+    This wood, these trees, my ever-dear delight,
+    Gladly I gave to speed the Dardan's flight.
+    But doubts and fears my troubled mind assail.
+    O calm them; may a parent's prayer have might,
+    And this their birth upon our hills avail
+To guide their voyage safe, and shield them from the gale."
+
+XIII. Then spake her son, who wields the starry sphere,
+    "Mother, what would'st thou of the Fates demand?
+    What art thou seeking for these Teucrians here?
+    Shall vessels, fashioned by a mortal hand,
+    The gift of immortality command?
+    And shall AEneas sail the uncertain main,
+    Himself of safety certain, and his band?
+    Did ever God such privilege attain?
+Nay, rather, when at length, Ausonian ports they gain,
+
+XIV. "Their duty done, and Ocean's dangers o'er,
+    What ships soe'er shall have escaped, to bear
+    The Dardan chief to the Laurentian shore,
+    Shall lose their perishable form, and wear
+    The sea-nymphs' shape, like Galatea fair
+    And Doto, when they breast the deep." He spake,
+    And by his brother's Stygian river sware,
+    Whose pitchy torrent swells the infernal lake,
+And with his awful nod made all Olympus shake.
+
+XV. The day was come, the fated time complete,
+    When Turnus' insults bade the Mother rise
+    And ward the firebrands from her sacred fleet.
+    A sudden light now flashed upon their eyes,
+    A cloud from eastward ran athwart the skies,
+    With choirs of Ida, and a voice through air
+    Pealed forth, and filled both armies with surprise,
+    "Trojans, be calm; your needless pains forbear,
+Nor arm to save these ships; their safety is my care.
+
+XVI. "Sooner shall Turnus make the ocean blaze,
+    Than these my pines. Go, sea-nymphs, and be free,
+    Your mother bids you." Each at once obeys,
+    Their cables snapt, like dolphins in their glee,
+    They dip their beaks, and dive beneath the sea.
+    Hence, where before along the shore had stood
+    The brazen poops--O marvellous to see!--
+    So many now, with maiden forms endued,
+Rise up, and reappear, and float upon the flood.
+
+XVII. All stand aghast; amid the startled steeds
+    Messapus quails, and Tiber checks his tide,
+    And, hoarsely murmuring, from the deep recedes.
+    Yet fails not Turnus, prompt to cheer or chide.
+    "To Teucrians point these prodigies," he cried,
+    "They bide not, they, Rutulian sword and brand.
+    E'en Jove their wonted succour hath denied.
+    Barred is the sea, and half the world is banned;
+Earth, too, is ours, such hosts Italia's chiefs command.
+
+XVIII. "I fear not Fate, nor what the Gods can do.
+    Suffice for Venus and the Fates the day
+    When Trojans touched Ausonia. I have, too,
+    My Fates, these robbers of my bride to slay.
+    Not Atreus' sons alone, and only they,
+    Have known a sorrow and a smart so keen,
+    And armed for vengeance. But enough, ye say,
+    Once to have fallen? One trespass then had been
+Enough, and made them loathe all womankind, I ween.
+
+XIX. "Lo, these who think a paltry wall can save,
+    A narrow ditch can thwart us,--these, so bold,
+    With but a span betwixt them and the grave!
+    Saw they not Troy, which Neptune reared of old,
+    Sink down in ruin, as the flames uprolled?
+    But ye, my chosen, who with me will scale
+    Yon wall, and storm their trembling camp? Behold,
+    No aid divine nor ships of thousand sail,
+Nor Vulcan's arms I need, o'er Trojans to prevail.
+
+XX. "Nay; let Etrurians join them, one and all,
+    No raid, nor robbed Palladium they shall fear,
+    Nor sentries stabbed beneath the night's dark pall.
+    No horse shall hide us; by the daylight clear
+    Our flames shall ring their ramparts. Dream they here
+    To find such Danaan striplings, weak as they
+    Whom Hector baffled till the tenth long year?
+    But now, since near its ending draws the day,
+Take rest, and bide prepared the dawning of the fray."
+
+XXI. His outposts plants Messapus, set to guard
+    The gates with watchfires, and the walls invest.
+    Twice seven captains round the camp keep ward,
+    Each with a hundred warriors of the best,
+    With golden armour and a blood-red crest.
+    These to and fro pace sentinels, and share
+    The watch in turn; those, on the sward at rest,
+    Tilt the brass wine-bowl. Bright the watch-fires flare,
+And games and festive mirth the wakeful night outwear.
+
+XXII. Forth look the Trojans from their walls, and line
+    The heights in arms, and test with hurrying fear
+    The gates, and bridges to the bulwarks join,
+    And bring up darts and javelins. Mnestheus here,
+    There bold Serestus is at hand to cheer,
+    They, whom AEneas left to rule the host,
+    Should ill betide them, or the foe draw near.
+    Thus all in turn, where peril pressed the most,
+Keep watch along the wall, dividing danger's post.
+
+XXIII. Nisus, the bold, stood warder of the gate,
+    The son of Hyrtacus, whom Ida fair,
+    The huntress, on AEneas sent to wait,
+    Quick with light arrows and the flying spear.
+    Beside him stood Euryalus, his fere;
+    Scarce on his cheeks the down of manhood grew,
+    The comeliest youth that donned the Trojan gear.
+    Love made them one; as one, to fight they flew,
+As one they guard the gates, companions tried and true.
+
+XXIV. Then Nisus: "Is it that the Gods inspire,
+    Euryalus, this fever of the breast?
+    Or make we gods of but a wild desire?
+    Battle I seek, or some adventurous quest,
+    And scorn to dally with inglorious rest,
+    See yonder the Rutulians, stretched supine,
+    What careless confidence is theirs, oppressed
+    With wine and slumber; how the watch-fires shine,
+Faint, few, and far between; what silence holds the line.
+
+XXV. "Learn now the plan and purpose of my mind,
+    'AEneas should be summoned,' one and all,--
+    Camp, council,--cry, and messengers would find
+    To take sure tidings and our chief recall.
+    If thee the meed I ask for shall befall,--
+    Bare fame be mine--methink the pathway lies
+    By yonder mound to Pallanteum's wall."
+    Then, fired with zeal and smitten with surprise,
+Thus to his ardent friend Euryalus replies:
+
+XXVI. "Me, me would Nisus from such deeds debar?
+    Am I to send thee singly to thy fate?
+    Not thus my sire Opheltes, bred to war,
+    Brought up and taught me, when in evil strait
+    Was Troy, and Argives battered at her gate.
+    Not thus to great AEneas was I known,
+    His trusty follower through the paths of Fate.
+    Here dwells a soul that dares the light disown,
+And counteth life well sold, to purchase such renown."
+
+XXVII. "For _thee_ I feared not," Nisus made reply,
+    "'Twere shame, indeed, to doubt a friend so tried.
+    So may great Jove, or whosoe'er on high
+    With equal eyes this exploit shall decide,
+    Restore me soon in triumph to thy side.
+    But if--for divers hazards underlie
+    So bold a venture--evil chance betide,
+    Or angry deity my hopes bely,
+Thee Heaven preserve, whose youth far less deserves to die.
+
+XXVIII. "Mine be a friend to lay me, if I fall,
+    Rescued or ransomed, in my native ground;
+    Or, if hard fortune grudge a boon so small,
+    To make fit honour to my shade redound,
+    And o'er the lost one rear an empty mound.
+    Ne'er let a childless mother owe to me
+    A pang so keen, and such a cureless wound.
+    She, who, alone of mothers, dared for thee
+Acestes' walls to leave, and braved the stormy sea."
+
+XXIX. "My purpose holds and shifts not," he replies,
+    "These empty pretexts cannot shake me--no.
+    Hence, let us haste." And to the guard he cries,
+    Who straight march up, and forth the two friends go
+    To find the chief. All creatures else below
+    Lay wrapt in sleep, forgetting toil and care;
+    But sleepless still, in presence of the foe,
+    Troy's chosen chiefs urge council, what to dare,
+Whom to AEneas send, the desperate news to bear.
+
+XXX. There, in the middle of the camp and plain,
+    Each shield in hand, and leaning on his spear,
+    They stand; when lo! in eager haste the twain,
+    Craving an audience instantly, appear.
+    High matter theirs, and worth a pause to hear.
+    Then first Iulus greets the breathless pair,
+    And calls to Nisus. "Dardans, lend an ear,"
+    Outspake the son of Hyrtacus, "Be fair,
+Nor rate by youthful years the proffered aid we bear.
+
+XXXI. "See, hushed with wine and slumber, lies the foe.
+    Where by the sea-gate, parts the road in twain,
+    A stealthy passage from the camp we know.
+    Black roll the smoke-clouds, and the watch-fires wane.
+    Leave us to try our fortune, soon again
+    Yourselves shall see, from Pallanteum's town,
+    AEneas, rich with trophies of the slain.
+    Plain lies the path, for oft the chase hath shown
+From darksome vales the town, and all the stream is known."
+
+XXXII. "O Gods!" exclaimed Aletes, wise and old,
+    "Not yet ye mean to raze the Trojan race,
+    Who give to Troy such gallant hearts and bold."
+    So saying, he clasped them in a fond embrace,
+    And bathed in tears his features and his face.
+    "What gifts can match such valour? Deeds so bright
+    Heaven and your hearts with fairest meed shall grace.
+    The rest our good AEneas shall requite,
+Nor young Ascanius e'er such services shall slight."
+
+XXXIII. "Yea, gallant Nisus," adds Ascanius there,
+    "I, too, who count my father's safety mine,
+    Adjure thee, by the household gods I swear
+    Of old Assaracus and Teucer's line,
+    And hoary Vesta's venerable shrine,
+    Whate'er of fortune or of hopes remain,
+    To thee and thy safe-keeping I resign.
+    Bring back my sire in safety; care nor pain
+Shall ever vex me more, if he return again.
+
+XXXIV. "Two goblets will I give thee, richly wrought
+    Of sculptured silver, beauteous to behold,
+    The spoils my sire from sacked Arisbe brought,
+    With two great talents of the purest gold,
+    Two tripods, and a bowl of antique mould,
+    The gift at Carthage of the Tyrian queen.
+    Nay, more, if e'er Italia's realm I hold,
+    And share the spoils of conquest,--thou hast seen
+The steed that Turnus rode, his arms of golden sheen,--
+
+XXXV. "That steed, that shield, that crest of crimson hue,
+    I keep for thee,--thine, Nisus, from to-day.
+    Twelve lovely matrons and male captives too,
+    Each with his armour, shall my sire convey,
+    With all the lands that own Latinus' sway.
+    But thee, whose years the most with mine agree,
+    Brave youth! my heart doth welcome. Come what may,
+    In peace or war my comrade shalt thou be.
+Thine are my thoughts, my deeds; fame tempts me but for thee."
+
+XXXVI. "No time, I ween," Euryalus replies,
+    "Shall shame the promise of this bold design,
+    Come weal, come woe. One boon alone I prize
+    Beyond all gifts. A mother dear is mine,
+    A mother, sprung from Priam's ancient line.
+    Troy nor the walls of King Acestes e'er
+    Stayed her from following, when I crossed the brine.
+    Her of this risk--whate'er the risk I dare--
+Weetless, I left behind, nor breathed a parting prayer.
+
+XXXVII. "Night bear me witness; by thy hand I swear,
+    I cannot bear a parent's tears. But O!
+    Be thou her solace, comfort her despair;
+    This hope permit, and bolder will I go,
+    To face all hazards and confront the foe."
+    Grief smote the Dardans, and the tears ran down,
+    And young Iulus, pierced with kindred woe,
+    Outweeps them all; in filial love thus shown,
+Touched to the heart, he traced the likeness of his own.
+
+XXXVIII. "All, all," he cries, "that such a deed can claim,
+    I promise for thy guerdon. Mine shall be
+    Thy mother,--mine, Creusa save in name;
+    Nor small her praise to bear a son like thee.
+    Howe'er shall Fortune the event decree,
+    I swear--so swore my father--by my head,
+    What gifts I pledge, if thou return, to thee,
+    These, if thou fall, thy mother in thy stead,
+These shall thy kinsmen keep, the heirlooms of the dead."
+
+XXXIX. Weeping, the gilded falchion he untied,
+    Lycaon's work, with sheath of ivory fair.
+    To Nisus Mnestheus gave a lion's hide,
+    His helmet changed Aletes. Forth they fare,
+    And round them to the gates, with vows and prayer,
+    The band of chiefs their parting steps attend;
+    And, manlier than his years, Iulus fair
+    Full many a message to his sire would send.
+Vain wish! his fruitless words the scattering breezes rend.
+
+XL. So past the trench, upon the shadowy plain
+    Forth issuing, to the foemen's tents they creep,
+    Fatal to many, ere the camp they gain.
+    Warriors they see, who drank the wine-bowl deep,
+    Beside their tilted chariots stretched in sleep,
+    And reins, and wheels and wine-jars tost away,
+    And arms and men in many a mingled heap.
+    Then Nisus: "Up, Euryalus, and slay!
+Haste, for the hour is ripe, and yonder lies the way.
+
+XLI. "Watch thou, lest hand be lifted in the rear.
+    There, flanked with swaths of corpses, will I reap
+    Thy pathway; broad shall be the lane and clear."
+    So saying, he checks his voice, and, aiming steep,
+    Drives at proud Rhamnes. On a piled-up heap
+    Of carpets lay the warrior, and his breast
+    Heaved with hard breathing and the sounds of sleep:
+    Augur and king, whom Turnus loved the best.
+Not all his augur's craft could now his doom arrest.
+
+XLII. Three slaves beside him, lying heedless here
+    Amidst their arms, he numbers with the slain,
+    Then Remus' page, and Remus' charioteer,
+    Caught by their steeds. The weapon, urged amain,
+    Swoops down, and cleaves their drooping necks in twain.
+    Their master's head he severs with a blow,
+    And leaves the trunk, still heaving, on the plain,
+    And o'er the cushions and the ground below,
+Wet with the warm, black gore, the spouting streams outflow.
+
+XLIII. Lamus and Lamyras he slew outright,
+    And fair Serranus, as asleep he lay,
+    Tamed by the God; for long and late that night
+    The youth had gamed. Ah! happier, had his play
+    Outlived the night, and lasted till the day.
+    Like some starved lion, that on the teeming fold
+    Springs, mad with hunger, and the feeble prey,
+    All mute with terror, in his clutch doth hold,
+And rends with bloody mouth, and riots uncontrolled,
+
+XLIV. Such havoc wrought Euryalus, so flamed
+    His fury. Fadus and Herbesus died,
+    And Abaris, and many a wight unnamed,
+    Caught unaware. But Rhoetus woke, and tried
+    In fear behind a massive bowl to hide.
+    Full in the breast, or e'er the wretch upstood,
+    The shining sword-blade to the hilt he plied,
+    Then drew it back death-laden. Wine and blood
+Gush out, the dying lips disgorge the crimson flood.
+
+XLV. Thence, burning, to Messapus' camp he speeds,
+    Where faint the watch-fires flicker far away,
+    And tethered on the herbage graze the steeds,
+    When briefly thus speaks Nisus, fain to stay
+    The lust of battle and mad thirst to slay:
+    "Cease we; the light, our enemy, is near.
+    Vengeance is glutted; we have hewn our way."
+    Bowls, solid silver armour here and there
+They leave behind untouched, and arras rich and rare.
+
+XLVI. The arms and belt of Rhamnes, bossed with gold,
+    Which Caedicus, his friendship to attest,
+    Sent to Tiburtine Remulus of old,
+    Whose grandson took it, as a last bequest
+    (Rutulians thence these spoils of war possessed)--
+    These trophies seized Euryalus, and braced
+    The useless trappings on his valorous breast,
+    And on his head Messapus' helm he placed,
+Light and with graceful plumes; and from the camp they haste.
+
+XLVII. Meanwhile from out Laurentum rides a train
+    With news of Turnus, while the main array
+    With marshalled ranks is lingering on the plain,
+    Three hundred shieldsmen Volscens' lead obey.
+    Now to the ramparts they have found their way,
+    When lo, to leftward, hurrying from their raid,
+    They mark the youths amid the twilight grey.
+    His glittering helm Euryalus betrayed,
+That flashed the moonbeams back, and pierced the glimmering shade.
+
+XLVIII. Nor passed the sight unheeded. Shrill and loud
+    "Stand, who are ye in armour dight, and why?
+    What make ye there?" cries Volscens from the crowd,
+    "And whither wend ye?" Naught the youths reply,
+    But swiftly to the bordering forest fly,
+    And trust to darkness. Then around each way
+    The horsemen ride, all outlet to deny;
+    Circling, like huntsmen, closely as they may,
+They watch the well-known turns, and wait the expected prey.
+
+XLIX. Shagg'd with rough brakes and sable ilex, spread
+    The wood, and, glimmering in the twilight grey,
+    Through broken tracks a narrow pathway led.
+    The shadowy boughs, the cumbrous spoils delay
+    Euryalus, and fear mistakes the way.
+    Nisus, unheeding, through the foemen flies,
+    And gains the place,--called Alba now--where lay
+    Latinus' pastures; then with back-turned eyes
+Stands still, and seeks in vain his absent friend, and cries:
+
+L.  "Where, in what quarter, have I left thee? Where,
+    Euryalus, shall I follow thee? What clue
+    Shall trace the mazes of this silvan snare,
+    The tangled path unravelling?" Back he flew,
+    Picking his footsteps with observant view,
+    And roamed the silent brushwood. Steeds he hears,
+    The noise, the signs of foemen who pursue.
+    A moment more, and, bursting on his ears,
+There came a shout, and lo, Euryalus appears.
+
+LI. Him, in false ways, amid the darkness, ta'en,
+    The gathering band with sudden rush o'erbear.
+    Poor Nisus sees him struggling, but in vain.
+    What should he do? By force of arms how dare
+    His friend to rescue? Shall he face them there,
+    And rush upon the foemen's swords, to die,
+    And welcome wounds that win a death so fair?
+    His spear he poises, and with upturned eye
+And stalwart arm drawn back, invokes the Moon on high:
+
+LII. "Come thou, Latonia, succour my distress!
+    Guardian of groves, bright glory of the sky,
+    If e'er with offerings for his son's success
+    My sire thine altars hath adorned, or I
+    Enriched them from the chase, and hung on high
+    Spoils in thy deep-domed temple, or arrayed
+    Thy roof with plunder; make this troop to fly,
+    And guide my weapons through the air." He prayed,
+And, winged with strength, the steel went whistling through the shade.
+
+LIII. It struck the shield of Sulmo at his side;
+    There broke the shaft and splintered. Down he rolled
+    Pierced through the midriff, and his life's warm tide
+    Poured from his bosom, and the long sobs told
+    Its heavings, ere the stiffening limbs grew cold.
+    All look around and tremble, when again
+    The youth another javelin, waxing bold,
+    Aimed from his ear-tip. Through the temples twain
+Of Tagus whizzed the steel, and warmed within the brain.
+
+LIV. Fierce Volscens raves with anger, nor espies
+    The wielder of the weapon, nor which way
+    To rush, aflame with fury. "Thou," he cries,
+    "Thy blood meanwhile the penalty shall pay
+    For both," and with his falchion bared to slay
+    Springs at Euryalus. Then, wild with fear,
+    Poor Nisus shouts, in frenzy of dismay,
+    Nor longer in the dark can hide, nor bear
+A pang of grief so keen--to lose a friend so dear,
+
+LV. "Me--me, behold the doer! mine the deed!
+    Kill me, Rutulians. By this hand they fell.
+    He could not--durst not. By the skies I plead,
+    By yon bright stars, that witnessed what befell,
+    He only loved his hapless friend too well."
+    Vain was his prayer; the weapon, urged amain,
+    Pierced through his ribs and snowy breast. Out swell
+    Dark streams of gore his lovely limbs to stain;
+The sinking neck weighs o'er the shoulders of the slain.
+
+LVI. So doth the purple floweret, dying, droop,
+    Smit by the ploughshare. So the poppy frail
+    On stricken stalk its languid head doth stoop,
+    And bows o'erladen with the drenching hail.
+    But onward now, through thickest ranks of mail,
+    Rushed Nisus. Volscens only will he slay;
+    He waits for none but Volscens. They assail
+    From right and left, and crowd his steps to stay.
+He whirls his lightning brand, and presses to his prey.
+
+LVII. Ere long he meets him clamouring, and down
+    His throat he drives the griding sword amain,
+    And takes his life, ere laying down his own.
+    Then, pierced he sinks upon his comrade slain,
+    And death's long slumber puts an end to pain.
+    O happy pair! if aught my verse ensure,
+    No length of time shall make your memory wane,
+    While, throned upon the Capitol secure,
+The AEneian house shall reign, and Roman rule endure.
+
+LVIII. Weeping, the victors took the spoils and prey,
+    And back dead Volscens to their camp they bore.
+    Nor less the wailing in the camp that day,
+    Brave Rhamnes found, and many a captive more,
+    Numa, Serranus, weltering in their gore.
+    Thick round the dead and dying, where the plain
+    Reeks freshly with the frothing blood, they pour.
+    Sadly they know Messapus' spoils again,
+The trappings saved with sweat, the helmet of the slain.
+
+LIX. Now, rising from Tithonus' saffron couch,
+    The Goddess of the dawn with orient ray
+    Sprinkled the earth, and 'neath the wakening touch
+    Of sunlight, all things stand revealed to-day.
+    Turnus himself, accoutred for the fray,
+    Wakes up his warriors with the morning light.
+    At once each captain marshals in array
+    His company, in brazen arms bedight,
+And rumours whet their rage, and prick them to the fight.
+
+LX. Nay more, aloft upon the javelin's end,
+    With shouts they bear--a miserable sight!--
+    The heads, the heads of Nisus and his friend.
+    On the walls' left--the river flanked their right--
+    The sturdy Trojans stand arrayed for fight,
+    And line the trenches and each lofty tower,
+    Sad, while the foemen, clamorous with delight,
+    March onward, with the heroes' heads before,
+Well known--alas! too well--and dropping loathly gore.
+
+LXI. Now Fame, winged herald, through the wildered town
+    Swift to Euryalus' mother speeds her way.
+    Life's heat forsakes her; from her hand drops down
+    The shuttle, and the task-work rolls away.
+    Forth with a shriek, like women in dismay,
+    Rending her hair, in frantic haste she flies,
+    And seeks the ramparts and the war's array,
+    Heedless of darts and dangers and surprise,
+Heedless of armed men, and fills the heaven with cries.
+
+LXII. "Thou--is it thou, Euryalus, my own?
+    Thou, the late solace of my age? Ah, why
+    So cruel? Could'st thou leave me here alone,
+    Nor let thy mother bid a last good-bye?
+    Now left a prey on Latin soil to lie
+    Of dogs and birds, nor I, thy mother, there
+    To wash thy wounds, and close thy lightless eye,
+    And shroud thee in the robe I wrought so fair,
+Fain with the busy loom to soothe an old wife's care!
+
+LXIII. "Where shall I follow thee? Thy corpse defiled,
+    Thy mangled limbs--where are they? Woe is me!
+    Is this then all of what was once my child?
+    Was it for this I roamed the land and sea?
+    Pierce _me_, Rutulians; hurl your darts at me,
+    Me first, if ye a mother's love can know.
+    Great Sire of Heaven, have pity! set me free.
+    Hurl with thy bolt to Tartarus below
+This hateful head, that longs to quit a world of woe!"
+
+LXIV. So wails the mother, weeping and undone,
+    And sorrow smites each warrior, as he hears,
+    Each groaning, as a father for his son.
+    Grief runs, like wildfire, through the Trojan peers,
+    And numbs their courage, and augments their fears.
+    Then, fain the spreading sorrow to allay,
+    Ilioneus and Iulus, bathed in tears
+    Call Actor and Idaeus; gently they
+The aged dame lift up, and to her home convey.
+
+LXV. Now terribly the brazen trumpet pealed
+    Its summons, and the war-shout rent the air.
+    On press the Volscians, locking shield to shield,
+    And fill the trenches, and the breastwork tear.
+    These plant their ladders for assault, where'er
+    A gap, just glimmering, shows the line less dense.
+    Vain hope! the Teucrians with their darts are there.
+    Stout poles they ply, and thrust them from the fence,
+Trained by a lingering siege, and tutored to defence.
+
+LXVI. Stones, too, they roll, to crush the serried shields:
+    Blithely the warriors bear the storm below,
+    Yet not for long; for, see, the penthouse yields.
+    Down on the midst, where thickest press the foe,
+    The Teucrians, rolling, with a crash let go
+    A ponderous mass, that opens to the light
+    The jointed shields, and lays the warriors low.
+    Nor care they longer in the dark to fight,
+But vie with distant darts to sweep the rampart's height.
+
+LXVII. Pine-stock in hand, Mezentius hurls the flame;
+    There, fierce Messapus rends the palisade,--
+    Tamer of steeds, from Neptune's loins he came,--
+    And shouts aloud for ladders to invade.
+    Aid me, Calliope; ye Muses, aid
+    To sing of Turnus and his deeds that day,
+    The deaths he wrought, the havoc that he made,
+    And whom each warrior singled for his prey;
+Roll back the war's great scroll, the mighty leaves display.
+
+LXVIII. Built high, with lofty gangways, stood a tower,
+    Fit post of vantage, which the Latins vied,
+    With utmost effort and with all their power,
+    To capture and destroy, while armed inside
+    With stones, the Trojans through the loopholes plied
+    Their missiles. Turnus, 'mid the foremost, cast
+    A blazing brand, and, fastening to the side,
+    Up went the flame; from floor to floor it passed,
+Clung to and licked the posts, and maddened with the blast.
+
+LXIX. Within 'twas hurrying and tumultuous fright,
+    As, crowding backward, they retreat before
+    The advancing flames, and vainly long for flight.
+    Lo! toppling suddenly, the tower went o'er,
+    And shook the wide air with reverberant roar.
+    Half-dead, the huge mass following amain,
+    They come to earth, stabbed by the darts they bore,
+    Or pierced by splinters through the breast. Scarce twain
+Escape--Helenor one, and Lycus--from the slain.
+
+LXX. Of these Helenor,--whom to Lydia's lord
+    By stealth his slave, the fair Licymnia, bore,
+    And sent to Ilium, where a simple sword
+    And plain, white shield, yet unrenowned, he wore,--
+    He, when he sees, around him and before,
+    The Latin hosts, as when in fierce disdain,
+    Hemmed round by huntsmen, in his rage the boar
+    O'erleaps the spears, so, where the thickest rain
+The foemen's darts, springs forth Helenor to be slain.
+
+LXXI. But fleeter far, young Lycus hastes to slip
+    Through swords, through foes, and gains the walls, and tries
+    To climb them, and a comrade's hand to grip.
+    With foot and spear behind him, as he flies,
+    Comes Turnus. Scornfully the victor cries,
+    "Mad fool! to fly, whom I have doomed to fall;
+    Think'st thou to baffle Turnus of his prize?"
+    Therewith he grasps him hanging, and withal
+Down with his victim drags huge fragments of the wall.
+
+LXXII. E'en so some snowy swan, or timorous hare
+    Jove's armour-bearer, swooping from the sky,
+    Grips in his talons, and aloft doth bear.
+    So, where apart the folded weanlings lie,
+    Swift at some lamb the warrior-wolf doth fly,
+    And leaves the mother, bleating in her woe.
+    Loud rings the noise of battle. With a cry
+    The foe press on; these fill the trench below,
+These to the topmost towers the blazing firebrands throw.
+
+LXXIII. Ilioneus with a rock's huge fragment quelled
+    Lucetius, creeping to the gate below
+    With fire. Asylas Corynaeus felled,
+    Liger Emathion, one skilled to throw
+    The flying dart, one famous with the bow.
+    Caenus--brief triumph!--made Ortygius fall,
+    With Dioxippus, Turnus lays him low,
+    Then Itys, Clonius, Promolus withal,
+Sagaris, and Idas last, the warder of the wall.
+
+LXXIV. There, slain by Capys, poor Privernus lay,
+    Grazed by Themilla's javelin; with a start
+    The madman flung his trusty shield away,
+    And clapped his left hand to the wounded part,
+    Fain, as he thought, to ease him of the smart.
+    Thereat, a light-winged arrow, unespied,
+    Whirred on the wind. It missed the warrior's heart,
+    But pierced his hand, and pinned it to his side,
+And, entering, clave the lung, and with a gasp he died.
+
+LXXV. With broidered scarf of Spanish crimson, stood
+    A comely youth, young Arcens was his name,
+    Sent by his father, from Symaethus' flood,
+    And nurtured in his mother's grove, he came,
+    Where, rich and kind, Palicus' altars flame.
+    His lance laid by, thrice whirling round his head
+    The whistling thong, Mezentius took his aim.
+    Clean through his temples hissed the molten lead,
+And prostrate in the dust, the gallant youth lay dead.
+
+LXXVI. Then first, 'tis said, in war Ascanius drew
+    His bow, wherewith in boyish days he plied
+    The flying game. His hand Numanus slew,
+    Called Remulus, to Turnus late allied,
+    For Turnus' youngest sister was his bride.
+    He, puffed with new-won royalty and proud,
+    Stalked in the forefront of the fight, and cried
+    With random clamour and big words and loud,
+Fain by his noise to show his grandeur to the crowd.
+
+LXXVII. "Think ye no shame, poor cowards, thus again
+    Behind your sheltering battlements to stand,
+    Twice-captured Phrygians! and to plant in vain
+    These walls, to shield you from the foemen's hand?
+    Lo, these the varlets who our wives demand!
+    What God, what madness blinded you, that e'er
+    Ye thought to venture to Italia's land?
+    No wily-worded Ithacan is near;
+Far other foes than he or Atreus' sons are here.
+
+LXXVIII. "Our babes are hardened in the frost and flood,
+    Strong is the stock and sturdy whence we came.
+    Our boys from morn till evening scour the wood,
+    Their joy is hunting, and the steed to tame,
+    To bend the bow, the flying shaft to aim.
+    Patient of toil, and used to scanty cheer,
+    Our youths with rakes the stubborn glebe reclaim,
+    Or storm the town. Through life we grasp the spear.
+In war it strikes the foe, in peace it goads the steer.
+
+LXXIX. "Age cannot stale, nor creeping years impair
+    Stout hearts as ours, nor make our strength decay.
+    Our hoary heads the heavy helmet bear.
+    Our joy is in the foray, day by day
+    To reap fresh plunder, and to live by prey.
+    Ye love to dance, and dally with the fair,
+    In saffron robes with purple flounces gay.
+    Your toil is ease, and indolence your care,
+And tunics hung with sleeves, and ribboned coifs ye wear.
+
+LXXX. "Go Phrygian women, for ye are not men!
+    Hence, to your Dindymus, and roam her heights
+    With Corybantian eunuchs! Get ye, then,
+    And hear the flute, harsh-grating, that invites
+    With twy-mouthed music to her lewd delights,
+    Where boxen pipe and timbrel from afar
+    Shriek forth the summons to her sacred rites.
+    Put by the sword, poor dotards as ye are,
+Leave arms to men, like us, nor meddle with the war."
+
+LXXXI. Such taunts Ascanius brooked not. Stung with pride,
+    A shaft he fitted to the horse-hair twine,
+    And, turning, stood with outstretched arms, and cried:
+    "Bless, Jove omnipotent, this bold design:
+    Aid me, and yearly offerings shall be thine.
+    A milk-white steer--I bind me to the vow--
+   Myself will lead, the choicest, to thy shrine,
+   Tall as his mother, and with gilded brow,
+And butting horns, and hoofs, that spurn the sand e'en now."
+
+LXXXII. Jove heard, and leftward, where the sky was blue,
+    Thundered aloud. At once the fateful bow
+    Twanged; with a whirr the fateful arrow flew,
+    And pierced the head of Remulus. "Now go,
+    And teach thy proud tongue to insult a foe,
+    And scoff at Trojan valour. _This_ reply
+    Twice-captured Phrygians to thy taunts bestow."
+    Ascanius spoke; the Teucrians with a cry,
+Press on, their joyous hearts uplifting to the sky.
+
+LXXXIII. Meanwhile, Apollo from his cloudy car
+    The Ausonian host, and leaguered town descries,
+    And calls the youthful conqueror from afar:
+    "Hail to thy maiden prowess; yonder lies
+    Thy path, brave boy, to glory and the skies.
+    O sons of Gods, and sire of Gods to be,
+    All wars shall cease beneath the race to rise
+    From great Assaracus. Nor thine, nor thee
+Shall narrow Troy contain; so stands the Fate's decree."
+
+LXXXIV. He spake, and through the breathing air shot down,
+    And sought Ascanius, now a god no more,
+    But shaped like aged Butes, whilom known
+    The servant of the Dardan king, who bore
+    Anchises' shield, and waited at his door,
+    Then left to guard Ascanius. Such in view
+    Apollo seemed; such clanging arms he wore;
+    Such were his hoary tresses, voice, and hue,
+And these his words, as near the fiery youth he drew:
+
+LXXXV "Enough, to live, and see Numanus bleed,
+    Child of AEneas! This, thy valour's due,
+    Great Phoebus grants, nor stints a rival's meed.
+    Now cease."--He spake, and vanished from their view.
+    His arms divine the Dardan chieftains knew,
+    And heard the quiver rattle in his flight.
+    So, warned by Phoebus' presence, back they drew
+    The fiery youth, then plunged into the fight.
+Death seems a welcome risk, and danger a delight.
+
+LXXXVI. Shouts fill the walls and outworks; casque and shield
+    Clash; bows are bent, and javelins hurled amain:
+    Fierce grows the fight, and weapons strew the field.
+    So fierce what time the Kid-star brings the rain,
+    The storm, from westward rising, beats the plain:
+    So thick with hail, the clouds, asunder riven,
+    Pour down a deluge on the darkened main,
+    When Jove, upon his dreaded south-wind driven
+Stirs up the watery storm, and rends the clouds of heaven.
+
+LXXXVII. Pandarus and Bitias, whom in Ida's grove
+    The nymph Iaera to Alcanor bare,
+    Tall as their mountains or the pines of Jove,
+    Fling back the gate committed to their care,
+    And bid the foemen enter, if they dare.
+    With waving plumes, and armed from top to toe,
+    In front, beside the gateway, stand the pair,
+    Tall as twin oaks, with nodding crests, that grow
+Where Athesis' sweet stream or Padus' waters flow.
+
+LXXXVIII. Up rush the foemen to the open gate,
+    Quercens, Aquicolus, in armour bright,
+    Brave Haemon, Tmarus, eager and elate,
+    In troops they come, in troops they turn in flight,
+    Or fall upon the threshold, slain outright.
+    Now fiercer swells the discord, louder grows
+    The noise of strife, as, hastening to unite,
+    The sons of Troy their banded ranks oppose,
+And battle hand to hand and, sallying, charge the foes.
+
+LXXXIX. Elsewhere to Turnus, as he raged, and marred
+    The ranks, came tidings of the foe, elate
+    With new-wrought carnage, and the gates unbarred.
+    Forth from his work he rushes, grim with hate,
+    To seek the brothers, and the Dardan gate.
+    Here brave Antiphates, the first in view
+    (The bastard offspring of Sarpedon great,
+    Borne by a Theban) with his dart he slew;
+Swift through the yielding air the Italian cornel flew.
+
+XC. Down through his throat into the chest it passed.
+    Out from the dark pit gushed a foaming tide;
+    The cold steel, warming in the lung, stood fast.
+    Then Merops, Erymas, Aphidnus died,
+    And Bitias, fierce with flaming eyes of pride.
+    No dart for him; no dart his life had ta'en.
+    A spear phalaric, thundering, pierced his side.
+    Nor bulls' tough hides, nor corselet's twisted chain,
+Twice linked with golden scales the monstrous blow sustain.
+
+XCI. Prone falls the giant in a heap. Earth groans,
+    His shield above him thunders. Such the roar,
+    When falls the solid pile of quarried stones,
+    Sunk in the sea off Baiae's echoing shore;
+    So vast the ruin, when the waves close o'er,
+    And the black sands mount upward, as the block,
+    Dashed headlong, settles on the deep-sea floor,
+    And Prochyta and Arime's steep rock,
+Piled o'er Typhoeus, quake and tremble with the shock.
+
+XCII. Now Mars armipotent the Latins lends
+    Fresh heart and strength, but Fear and black Dismay
+    And Flight upon the Teucrian troops he sends.
+    From right and left they hurry to the fray,
+    And o'er each spirit comes the War-God's sway.
+    But when brave Pandarus saw his brother's fate,
+    And marked the swerving fortune of the day,
+    He set his broad-built shoulders to the gate;
+The groaning hinges yield, and backward rolls the weight.
+
+XCIII. Full many a friend without the camp he leaves,
+    Sore straitened in the combat; these, the rest,
+    Saved like himself, he rescues and receives.
+    Madman! who, blind to Turnus, as he pressed
+    Among them, made the dreaded foe his guest.
+    Fierce as a tiger in the fold, he preys.
+    Loud ring his arms; his helmet's blood-red crest
+    Waves wide; strange terrors from his eyes outblaze,
+And on his dazzling shield the living lightning plays.
+
+XCIV. That hated form, those giant limbs too plain
+    The Trojans see, and stand aghast with fear.
+    Then, fired with fury for his brother slain,
+    Forth leaping, shouts huge Pandarus with a jeer,
+    "No Queen Amata's bridal halls are here;
+    No Ardea this; around the camps the foe.
+    No flight for thee." He, smiling, calm of cheer,
+    "Come, if thou durst; full soon shall Priam know
+Thou too hast found a new Achilles to thy woe."
+
+XCV. He spake. Then Pandarus a javelin threw,
+    Cased in its bark, with hardened knots and dried.
+    The breezes caught the missile as it flew;
+    Saturnian Juno turned the point aside,
+    And fixed it in the gate. "Ha! bravely tried!
+    Not so _this_ dart shalt thou escape; not so
+    Send I the weapon and the wound." He cried,
+    And, sword in hand, uprising to the blow,
+Between the temples clave the forehead of his foe.
+
+XCVI. The beardless cheeks, so fearful was the gash,
+    Gape wide. Aloud his clanging arms resound.
+    Earth groans beneath, as prone, amid the splash
+    Of blood and brains, he sprawls upon the ground,
+    And right and left hangs, severed by the wound,
+    His dying head. In terror, strewn afar,
+    The Trojans fly. Then, then had Turnus found
+    Time and the thought to burst the town-gate's bar,
+That day had seen the last of Trojans and the war.
+
+XCVII. But lust of death, and vengeance unappeased
+    Urged on the conqueror. Phalaris he slew,
+    Then hamstrung Gyges, and their javelins seized,
+    And hurled them at their comrades, as they flew,
+    For Juno nerved and strengthened him anew.
+    Here Halys fell, and hardy Phlegeus there,
+    Pierced through his shield. Alcander down he threw,
+    Prytanis, Noemon, Halius unaware,
+As on the walls they stood, and roused the battle's blare.
+
+XCVIII. Slain, too, was Lynceus, as he ran for aid,
+    Cheering his friends. Back-handed, with fierce sway,
+    His right knee bent, he swung the sweeping blade,
+    And head and helmet tumbled far away.
+    Fell Clytius, Amycus expert to slay
+    The wood-deer, and the venomed barb to wing,
+    And Creteus, too, who loved the minstrel's lay,
+    The Muses' friend, whose joy it was to sing
+Of steeds, and arms and men, and wake the lyre's sweet string.
+
+XCIX. Then meet at length, their kinsmen's slaughter known,
+    Brave Mnestheus, and Serestus fierce, and see
+    Their friends in flight, and foemen in the town.
+    Then Mnestheus cries: "Friends, whither would ye flee?
+    What other walls, what further town have we?
+    Shame on the thought, shall then a single foe,
+    One man alone, O townsmen! ay, and he
+    Cooped thus within your ramparts, work such woe,
+Such deaths--and unavenged? and lay your choicest low?
+
+C.  "Is yours no pity, sluggard souls? no shame
+    For Troy's old gods, and for your native land,
+    And for the great AEneas, and his name?"
+    Fired by his words, they gather heart, and stand,
+    Shoulder to shoulder, rallying in a band.
+    Backward, but slowly he retreats, too proud
+    To turn, and seeks the ramparts hard at hand,
+    Girt by the stream; while, clamouring aloud,
+Fiercer the foe press on, and larger grows the crowd.
+
+CI. As when an angry lion, held at bay,
+    And pressed with galling javelins, half in fright,
+    But grim and glaring, step by step gives way,
+    Too wroth to turn, too valorous for flight,
+    And fain, but impotent, to wreak his spite
+    Against his armed assailants; even so,
+    Slowly and wavering, Turnus quits the fight,
+    Boiling with rage; yet twice he charged the foe,
+Twice round the walls in rout they fled before his blow.
+
+CII. But now new hosts come swarming from the town,
+    Nor Juno dares his failing force to stay,
+    For Jove in wrath sent heavenly Iris down,
+    Stern threats to bear, should Turnus disobey,
+    And longer in the Trojan camp delay.
+    No more his shield, nor strength of hand avail
+    To ward the storm; so thick the javelins play.
+    Loud rings his helmet with the driving hail;
+Rent with the volleyed stones, the solid brass-plates fail.
+
+CIII. Reft are his plumes, and shattered by the blows
+    The shield-boss. Faster still the darts they pour,
+    And thundering Mnestheus towers amid his foes.
+    Trembling with pain, exhausted, sick, and sore,
+    He gasps for breath. Sweat streams from every pore,
+    And, black with dust, from all his limbs descends.
+    Headlong, at length, he plunges from the shore,
+    Clad all in arms. The yellow river bends,
+And bears him, cleansed from blood, triumphant to his friends.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK TEN
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+The gods meet in council. Venus pleads for the Trojans, Juno for the
+Latins. Jupiter as a compromise leaves the arbitrament to Fate
+(1-153). The siege of the Trojan camp continues. AEneas meanwhile
+is sailing with his Arcadian and Tuscan allies down the Tiber
+(154-207). Catalogue of the helpers of AEneas, who is presently
+warned by the nymphs in what peril Ascanius stands: comes in sight
+of the camp and with difficulty lands his men (208-369). A
+hard-fought battle by the river follows, of which Pallas and Lausus
+are the heroes (370-531). Pallas is killed by Turnus in single combat
+(532-603). AEneas in revenge gives no quarter, but slays and slays,
+until Juno, warned by Jupiter that if she would save Turnus even for
+a time she must act at once, goes down into the battle and fashions
+in the form of AEneas a phantom, which flees before Turnus and lures
+him into a ship, by which he is miraculously carried away to his
+father's city (604-838). Mezentius takes up the command, but after
+performing prodigies of valour is wounded by AEneas (839-954).
+Mezentius withdraws, and his son Lausus is killed while covering his
+retreat. Thereupon Mezentius gets to horse and rides back to die in
+a vain endeavour to avenge his son. AEneas exults over Mezentius
+(955-1089).
+
+
+I.  Meanwhile, at bidding of almighty Jove,
+    His palace, as Olympus' gates unfold,
+    Stands open. To his starry halls above
+    The Sire of Gods and men, whose eyes behold
+    The wide-wayed earth, the Dardans' leaguered hold,
+    And Latium's peoples, from his throne of state
+    Convokes the council. Ranged on seats of gold
+    Around the halls, in silence they await.
+Himself, in measured speech, begins the grand debate.
+
+II. "Heaven's great inhabitants, what change hath brewed
+    Rebellious thoughts, my purpose thus to mar?
+    'Twixt Troy and Italy I banned the feud;
+    My nod forbade it. Whence this impious jar?
+    What fear hath stirred them to provoke the war?
+    Fate in due course shall bring the destined hour,--
+    Foredate it not--when Carthage from afar
+    Her barbarous hordes through riven Alps shall pour,
+To storm the towers of Rome, to ravage and devour.
+
+III. "Then may ye rend, and ravage and destroy,
+    Then may ye glut your vengeance. Now forbear,
+    And plight this peaceful covenant with joy."
+    Thus Jove; but Venus of the golden hair,
+    Less brief, made answer: "Lord of earth and air!
+    O Father! Power eternal! whom beside
+    We know none other, to approach with prayer,
+    See the Rutulians, how they swell with pride;
+See Turnus, puffed with triumph, borne upon the tide.
+
+IV. "Their very walls the Teucrians shield no more.
+    Within the gates, amid the mounds the fray
+    Is raging, and the trenches float with gore,
+    While, ignorant, AEneas is away.
+    Is theirs no rest from leaguer--not a day?
+    Again a threatening enemy hangs o'er
+    A new-born Troy! New foemen in array
+    Swarm from AEtolian Arpi, and once more
+A son of Tydeus comes, as dreadful as before.
+
+V.  "Ay, wounds are waiting for thine offspring still,
+    And mortal arms must vex her. List to me:
+    If maugre thee, and careless of thy will,
+    The Trojans sought Italia, let them be,
+    Nor aid them; let their folly reap its fee.
+    But if, oft called by many a warning sign
+    From Heaven and Hell, they followed thy decree,
+    Who then shall tamper with the doom divine,
+Or dare to forge new Fates, or alter words of thine?
+
+VI. "Why tell of grievances in days forepast,
+    The vessels burnt on Eryx' distant shore,
+    The tempest's monarch, and the raging blast
+    Stirred in AEolia, and the winds' uproar,
+    And Iris, heaven-sent messenger? Nay more,
+    From Hell's dark depths she summons her allies,
+    The ghosts of Hades, overlooked before.
+    Through Latin towns, sent sudden from the skies,
+Alecto wings her flight, and riots as she flies.
+
+VII. "I reck not, I, of empire; once, indeed,
+    While fortune smiled, I hoped for it; but now
+    Theirs, whom thou choosest, be the victor's meed.
+    But if no land thy ruthless spouse allow
+    To Teucrian outcasts, hearken to me now:
+    O Father! by the latest hour of Troy,
+    By Ilion's smoking ruins, deign to show
+    Thy pity for Ascanius; spare my boy;
+Safe let him cease from arms, my darling and my joy.
+
+VIII. "Let brave AEneas follow, as he may,
+    Where future leads, and wander on the brine.
+    _Him_ shield, and let me snatch him from the fray.
+    Paphos, Cythera, Amathus are mine,
+    And on Idalium is my home and shrine:
+    There let him live, forgetful of renown,
+    And, deaf to fame, these warlike weeds resign;
+    Then let fierce Carthage press Ausonia down,
+For he and his no more shall vex the Tyrian town.
+
+IX. "Ah, what availed to 'scape the fight and flame,
+    And drain all dangers of the land and main,
+    If Teucrians seek on Latin soil to frame
+    Troy's towers anew? Far better to remain
+    There, on their country's ashes, on the plain
+    Where Troy once stood. Give, Father, I implore,
+    To wretched men their native streams again;
+    Their Xanthus and their Simois restore;
+There let them toil and faint, as Trojans toiled of yore."
+
+X.  Then, roused with rage, spake Juno: "Wherefore make
+    My lips break silence and lay bare my woe?
+    What God or man AEneas forced to take
+    The sword, and make the Latin King his foe?
+    Fate to Italia called him: be it so:
+    Driven by the frenzied prophetess of Troy.
+    Did we then bid him leave the camp, and throw
+    His life to fortune, ay, and leave a boy
+To rule the war, and Tuscan loyalty destroy,
+
+XI. "And harass peaceful nations? Who was there
+    The God, and whose the tyranny to blame
+    For fraud like that? Where then was Juno? where
+    Was cloud-sent Iris? Sooth, ye count it shame
+    That Latins hedge the new-born Troy with flame,
+    And Turnus dares his native land possess,
+    Albeit from Pilumnus' seed he came,
+    And nymph Venilia. Is the shame then less,
+That Troy with foreign yoke should Latin fields oppress,
+
+XII. "And rob their maidens of the love they vow,
+    And lift, and burn and ravage as they list,
+    Then plead for peace, with arms upon the prow?
+    Thy sheltering power AEneas can assist,
+    And cheat his foemen with an empty mist,
+    The warrior's counterfeit. At thy command
+    Ships change to sea-nymphs, and the flames desist.
+    And now, that we should stretch a friendly hand,
+And lend Rutulians aid, an infamy ye brand.
+
+XIII. "Thy chief is absent, absent let him be.
+    He knows not: let him know not. Do I care?
+    What is AEneas' ignorance to me?
+    Thou hast thy Paphos, and Idalium fair,
+    And bowers of high Cythera; get thee there.
+    Why seek for towns with battle in their womb,
+    And beard a savage foeman in his lair?
+    Wrought we the wreck, when Ilion sank in gloom,
+We, or the hands that urged poor Trojans to their doom?
+
+XIV. "Was I the robber, who the war begun,
+    Whose theft in arms two continents arrayed,
+    When Europe clashed with Asia? I the one,
+    Who led the Dardan leman on his raid,
+    To storm the chamber of the Spartan maid?
+    Did I with lust the fatal strife sustain,
+    And fan the feud, and lend the Dardans aid?
+    _Then_ had thy fears been fitting; now in vain
+Thy taunts are hurled; too late thou risest to complain."
+
+XV. So pleaded Juno: the immortals all
+    On this and that side murmured their assent,
+    As new-born gales, that tell the coming squall,
+    Caught in the woods, their mingled moanings vent.
+    Then thus began the Sire omnipotent,
+    Who rules the universe, and as he rose,
+    Hush'd was the hall; Earth shook; the firmament
+    Was silent; whist was every wind that blows,
+And o'er the calm deep spread the stillness of repose.
+
+XVI. "Now hearken all, and to my words give heed.
+    Since naught avails this discord to allay,
+    And peace is hopeless, let the war proceed.
+    Trojans, Rutulians--each alike this day
+    Must carve his hopes and fortune as he may.
+    Fate, blindness, crooked counsels--whatso'er
+    Holds Troy in leaguer, equally I weigh
+    The chance of all, nor would Rutulians spare.
+For each must toil and try, till Fate the doom declare."
+
+XVII. He spake, and straightway, to confirm his word,
+    Invoked his brother, and the Stygian flood,
+    The pitchy whirlpool, and the banks abhorr'd,
+    Then bent his brow, and with his awful nod
+    Made all Olympus tremble at the god.
+    So ceased the council. From his throne of state,
+    All golden, he arose, and slowly trod
+    The courts of Heaven. The powers celestial wait
+Around their sovereign Lord, and lead him to the gate.
+
+XVIII. Now, fire in hand, and burning to destroy,
+    The fierce Rutulians still the siege maintain.
+    Pent in their ramparts stay the sons of Troy,
+    Hopeless of flight, and line the walls in vain,
+    A little band, but all that now remain.
+    Thymoetes, son of Hicetaon bold,
+    Asius, the son of Imbrasus, the twain
+    Assaraci, Castor and Thymbris old,
+These, battling in the van, the desperate strife uphold.
+
+XIX. Next stand the brethren of Sarpedon slain,
+    Claros and Themon,--braver Lycians none.
+    There, with a rock's huge fragment toils amain
+    Lyrnessian Acmon, famous Clytius' son,
+    Menestheus' brother, nor less fame he won.
+    Hot fares the combat; from the walls these fling
+    The stones, and those the javelins. Each one
+    Toils to defend; these blazing firebrands bring,
+And fetch the flying shafts, and fit them to the string.
+
+XX. There too, bare-headed, in the midst is seen
+    Fair Venus' care, the Dardan youth divine,
+    Bright as a diamond, or the lustrous sheen
+    Of gems, that, set in yellow gold, entwine
+    The neck, or sparkling on the temples shine.
+    So gleams the ivory, inlaid with care
+    In chest of terebinth, or boxwood scrine;
+    And o'er his milk-white neck and shoulders fair,
+Twined with the pliant gold, streams down the warrior's hair.
+
+XXI. There, too, brave Ismarus, the nations see,
+    Scattering the poisoned arrows from thy hands;
+    A gallant knight, and born of high degree
+    In far Maeonia, where his golden sands
+    Pactolus rolls along the fruitful lands.
+    There he, whom yesterday the voice of fame
+    Raised to the stars, the valiant Mnestheus stands,
+    Who drove fierce Turnus from the camp with shame;
+There, Capys, he who gave the Capuan town its name.
+
+XXII. Thus all day long both armies toiled and fought.
+    And now, at midnight, o'er the deep sea fares
+    AEneas. By Evander sent, he sought
+    The Tuscan camp. To Tarchon he declares
+    His name and race, the aid he asks and bears,
+    The friends Mezentius gathers to the fray,
+    And Turnus' violence; then warns, with prayers,
+    Of Fortune's fickleness. No more delay:
+Brave Tarchon joins his power, and strikes a league straightway.
+
+XXIII. So, free of Fate, Heaven's mandate they obey,
+    And Lydians, with a foreign leader, plough
+    The deep; AEneas' vessel leads the way.
+    Sweet Ida forms the figure-head; below,
+    The Phrygian lions ramp upon the prow.
+    Here sits AEneas, thoughtful, on the stern,
+    For war's dark chances cloud the chieftain's brow.
+    There, on his left, sits Pallas, and in turn
+Now cons the stars, now seeks the wanderer's woes to learn.
+
+XXIV. Now open Helicon; unlock the springs,
+    Ye Goddesses. Strike up the noble stave,
+    And sing what hosts from Tuscan shores he brings,
+    What ships he arms, and how they cross the wave.
+    First, Massicus with brazen Tiger clave
+    The watery plain. With him from Clusium go,
+    And Cosae's town, a hundred, tried and brave;
+    Deft archers, well the deadly craft they know.
+Light from their shoulders hang the quiver and the bow.
+
+XXV. With blazoned troops came Abas, gaunt and grim.
+    Golden Apollo on the stern he bore.
+    Six hundred Populonia gave to him,
+    All trained to battle, and three hundred more
+    Sent Ilva, rich in unexhausted ore.
+    Third came Asylas, who the voice divine
+    Expounds to man, and kens, with prescient lore,
+    The starry sky, the hearts of slaughtered kine,
+The voices of the birds, the lightning's warning sign.
+
+XXVI. A thousand from Alphaeus' Tuscan town
+    Of Pisa, with him to the war proceed,
+    In bristling ranks, all spearmen of renown.
+    Next, Astur--comeliest Astur--clad in weed
+    Of divers hues, and glorying in his steed:
+    Three hundred men from ancient Pyrgos fare,
+    From Caere's home, from Minio's fruitful mead,
+    And they who breathe Gravisca's tainted air.
+One purpose fills them all, to follow and to dare.
+
+XXVII. Nor would I leave thee, Cinyras, untold,
+    Liguria's chief, nor, though a few were thine,
+    Cupavo. Emblem of his sire of old,
+    The swan's white feathers on his helmet shine,
+    Thy fault, O Love. When Cycnus, left to pine
+    For Phaethon, the poplar shades among,
+    Soothed his sad passion with the Muse divine,
+    Old age with hoary plumage round him clung;
+Starward he soared from earth and, soaring up, still sung.
+
+XXVIII. Now comes his son, with his Ligurian bands,
+    Oaring their bark. A Centaur from the prow
+    Looms o'er the waves a-tiptoe, with his hands
+    A vast rock heaving, as in act to throw;
+    The long keel ploughs the furrowed deep below.
+    Next, from his home the gallant Ocnus came,
+    The son of Manto, who the Fates doth know,
+    Brave child of Tiber. He his mother's name
+And walls to Mantua gave,--great Mantua, rich in fame,
+
+XXIX. And rich in heroes, though diversely bred.
+    Three separate stems four-fold the state compose,
+    Herself, of Tuscan origin, the head.
+    Five hundred warriors, all Mezentius' foes,
+    And armed for vengeance, from her walls arose.
+    Mincius in front, veiled in his sedges grey
+    (Fair stream, whose birth from sire Benacus flows),
+    Shines on the poop, and seaward points the way;
+Swift speeds the bark of pine, with foemen for the fray.
+
+XXX. Last, huge Aulestes, rising with his row
+    Of hundred oarsmen, beats the watery lea.
+    The lashed deeps boil; big Triton from the prow
+    Sounds his loud shell, that frights the sky-blue sea.
+    Waist-high, a man with human face is he;
+    All else, a fish; beneath his savage breast
+    The white foam roars before him.--Such to see,
+    Such, and so numerous was the host that pressed,
+Borne in their thirty ships, to succour Troy distrest.
+
+XXXI. Daylight had failed; to mid Olympus' gate
+    Bright Phoebe drove her nightly-wandering wain.
+    Tiller in hand, the good AEneas sate
+    And trimmed the sails, while trouble tossed his brain.
+    When lo! around him thronged the Sea-nymphs' train,
+    Whom kind Cybele changed from ships of wood
+    To rule, as goddesses, the watery main.
+    As many as late, with brazen beaks, had stood
+Linked to the shore, now swim in even line the flood.
+
+XXXII. Far off, their king the goddesses beheld
+    And danced around him joyously, and lo,
+    Cymodocea, who in speech excelled,
+    Clings to the stern; breast-high the nymph doth show;
+    Her left hand oars the placid deep below.
+    Then, "Watchest thou, AEneas, child divine?
+    Watch on," she cries, "and let the canvas go.
+    Behold us, sea-nymphs, once a grove of pine
+On Ida's sacred crest, the Trojans' ships and thine.
+
+XXXIII. "When on us late the false Rutulian pressed
+    With sword and flame, perforce, sweet life to save,
+    We broke our chains, and wander in thy quest.
+    Our shape the Mother, pitying, changed and gave
+    Immortal life, to spend beneath the wave.
+    Thy son, he stays in Latin leaguer pent;
+    Arcadian horsemen, with the Tuscans brave,
+    Hold tryst to aid. His troops hath Turnus sent,
+Charged, with opposing arms, their succour to prevent.
+
+XXXIV. "Now rise, and when to-morrow's dawn shall shine,
+    Bid forth thy followers to arms. Be bold,
+    And take this shield, the Fire-King's gift divine,
+    Invincible, immortal, rimm'd with gold.
+    Next morn--so truly as the word is told--
+    Huge heaps of dead Rutulian foes shall view."
+    She spake; her hand, departing, loosed its hold,
+    And pushed the vessel; well the way she knew;
+Swift as a dart it flies; the rest its flight pursue.
+
+XXXV. Wondering, AEneas pauses in amaze,
+    Yet hails the sign, and gladdens at the sight,
+    And, gazing on the vaulted skies, he prays,
+    "Mother of Heaven, whom Dindymus' famed height,
+    And tower-girt towns, and lions yoked delight,
+    Assist the Phrygians, and direct the fray.
+    Kind Goddess, prosper us, and speed aright
+    This augury." He ended, and the day
+Returning, climbed the sky, and chased the night away.
+
+XXXVI. Forthwith he calls his comrades to arise
+    And take fresh heart, and for the fight prepare.
+    Now, from the stern, the Dardans he espies,
+    Hemmed in their camp. Aloft his hands upbear
+    The burning shield. With shouts his Dardans tear
+    Heaven's concave. Hope with fury fires their veins.
+    Fast fly their darts, as when through darkened air
+    With clang and clamour the Strymonian cranes
+Stream forth, the signal given, from winter's winds and rains.
+
+XXXVII. Then lost in wonderment, the foemen stand,
+    Till, looking round, they see the watery ways
+    A sea of ships, all crowding to the land,
+    The flaming crest, the helmet all ablaze,
+    The golden shield-boss, with its lightning rays.
+    As when a comet, bright with blazing hair,
+    Its blood-red beams athwart the night displays,
+    Or Sirius, rising, with its baleful glare
+Brings pestilence and drought, and saddens all the air.
+
+XXXVIII. Yet quails not Turnus; still his hopes are high
+    To seize the shore, and keep them from the land.
+    Now cheering, and now chiding, rings his cry
+    "Lo, here--'tis here, the battle ye demand.
+    Up, crush them; war is in the warrior's hand.
+    Think of your fathers and their deeds of old,
+    Your homes, your wives. Forestall them on the strand,
+    Now, while they totter, while the foot's faint hold
+Slips on the shelving beach. Fair Fortune aids the bold."
+
+XXXIX. So saying, he ponders inly, whom to choose
+    To mind the siege, and whom the foe to meet.
+    By planks meanwhile AEneas lands his crews.
+    Some wait until the languid waves retreat,
+    Then, leaping, to the shallows trust their feet;
+    Some vault with oars. Brave Tarchon marks, quick-eyed,
+    A sheltered spot, where neither surf doth beat,
+    Nor breakers roar, but smooth the waters glide,
+And up the sloping shore unbroken swells the tide.
+
+XL. Here suddenly he bids them turn the prow,
+    And shouts aloud, "Now, now, my chosen band,
+    Lean to your oars; strive lustily and row.
+    Lift the keel onward, till it cleaves the strand,
+    And ploughs its furrow in the foeman's land.
+    Let the bark break, with such a haven here
+    What harm, if once upon the shore we stand?"
+    So Tarchon spake; his comrades, with a cheer,
+Rise on the smooth-shaved thwarts, and sweep the foaming mere.
+
+XLI. So, one by one, they gain the land, and, whole
+    And scatheless, on the Latin shore abide.
+    All safe but Tarchon. Dashed upon a shoal,
+    Long on a rock's unequal ridge astride,
+    In doubtful balance swayed from side to side,
+    His vessel hangs, and back the waves doth beat,
+    Then breaks, and leaves them tangled in the tide
+    'Twixt planks and oars, while, ebbing to retreat,
+The shrinking waves draw back, and wash them from their feet.
+
+XLII. Nor loiters Turnus; eager to attack,
+    Along the shore he marshals his array,
+    To meet the foe, and drive the Teucrians back.
+    The trumpet sounds: the Latin churls straightway
+    AEneas routs, first omen of the day,
+    Huge Theron slain, their mightiest, who in pride
+    Of strength, rushed forth and dared him to the fray.
+    Through quilted brass the Dardan sword he plied,
+Through tunic stiff with gold, and pierced th' unguarded side.
+
+XLIII. Lichas he smites, who vowed his infant life,
+    Ripped from his mother, dying in her pain,
+    To Phoebus, freed from perils of the knife.
+    Huge Gyas, brawny Cisseus press the plain,
+    As, club in hand, they strew the Tuscan train.
+    Naught now avail those stalwart arms, that plied
+    The weapons of Alcides; all in vain
+    They boast their sire Melampus, comrade tried
+Of Hercules, while earth his toilsome tasks supplied.
+
+XLIV. Lo, full at Pharus, in his bawling mouth
+    He plants a dart. Thou, Cydon, too, in quest
+    Of Clytius, blooming with the down of youth,
+    Thy latest joy, had'st laid thy loves to rest,
+    Slain by the Dardan; but around thee pressed
+    Old Phorcus' sons. Seven brethren bold are there,
+    Seven darts they throw. These helm and shield arrest,
+    Those, turned aside by Venus' gentle care
+Just graze the Dardan's frame, and, grazing, glance in air.
+
+XLV. Then cried AEneas to Achates true,
+    "Quick, hand me store of weapons; none in vain
+    This arm shall hurl at yon Rutulian crew,
+    Not one of all that whilom knew the stain
+    Of Argive blood upon the Trojan plain."
+    So saying, he snatched, and in a moment threw
+    His mighty spear, that, hurtling, rent in twain
+    The brazen plates of Maeon's shield, and through
+The breastplate pierced the breast, nor faltered as it flew.
+
+XLVI. Up ran, and raised his brother, as he lay,
+    Alcanor. Shrill another javelin sung,
+    And pierced his arm, and, reddening, held its way,
+    And from his shoulders by the sinews hung
+    The dying hand. Then straight, the dart outwrung,
+    His brother Numitor the barb let fly
+    Full at AEneas. In his face he flung,
+    But failed to smite. The weapon, turned awry,
+Missed the intended mark, and grazed Achates' thigh.
+
+XLVII. Up Clausus came, of Cures, in the pride
+    Of youth. His stark spear, urged with forceful sway,
+    Through Dryops' throat, beneath the chin, he plied,
+    And voice and life forsook him, as he lay,
+    Spewing thick gore, his forehead in the clay.
+    Three Thracians next, three sons of Idas bleed.
+    Ismarians these. Halaesus to the fray
+    Brings his Auruncan bands, and Neptune's seed,
+Messapus, too, comes up, the tamer of the steed.
+
+XLVIII. Each side strives hard the other's ground to win.
+    E'en on Ausonia's threshold raves the fray.
+    As in the broad air warring winds begin
+    The battle, matched in strength and rage, nor they,
+    The winds themselves, nor clouds nor sea give way,
+    All locked in strife, and struggling as they can,
+    And long in doubtful balance hangs the day,
+    So meet the ranks, and mingle in the van,
+And foot clings close to foot, and man is massed with man.
+
+XLIX. Where, in another quarter, stones and trees,
+    Torn from its banks, a torrent at its height
+    Had strewn with wide-wrought ravage, Pallas sees
+    His brave Arcadians break the ranks of fight,
+    And turn before their Latin foes in flight.
+    Strange to foot-combat, from his trusty horse
+    The rough ground lured each rider to alight.
+    Now with entreaties--'tis his last resource--
+And now with bitter words he fires their flagging force.
+
+L.  "Shame on ye, comrades! whither do ye run?
+    By your brave deeds, and by the name ye bear,
+    And great Evander's, by the wars ye won,
+    By these my hopes, which even now bid fair
+    E'en with my father's honours to compare.
+    Trust not your feet; the sword, the sword must hew
+    A pathway through the foemen. See, 'tis there,
+    Where foes press thickest, and our friends are few,
+Our noble country calls for Pallas and for you.
+
+LI. "No gods assail us; mortals fight to-day
+    With mortals. Lives as many as theirs have we,
+    As many hands, to match them in the fray.
+    Earth fails for flight, and yonder lies the sea.
+    Seaward or Troyward--whither shall we flee?"
+    So saying, he plunged amid the throng. First foe,
+    Fell Lagus, doomed an evil fate to dree.
+    Him, toiling hard a ponderous stone to throw,
+Between the ribs and spine a whistling dart laid low.
+
+LII. Scarce from his marrow could the victor tear
+    The steel, so tightly clung it to the bone.
+    Forth Hisbo leaped, to smite him unaware.
+    Rash hope! brave Pallas caught him, rushing on,
+    And through the lung his sword a passage won.
+    Then Sthenius he slew; beside him bled
+    Anchemolus, of Rhoetus' stock the son,
+    The lewd defiler of his stepdame's bed.
+Fate stopped his lewdness now, and stretched him with the dead.
+
+LIII. Ye, too, young Thymber and Larides fair,
+    Twin sons of Daucus, did the victor quell.
+    So like in form and features were the pair,
+    That e'en their doting parents failed to tell
+    This one from that. Alas! the sword too well
+    Divides them now. Here, tumbled on the sward,
+    At one fierce swoop, the head of Thymber fell.
+    Thy severed hand, Larides, seeks its lord;
+The fingers, half alive and quivering, clutch the sword.
+
+LIV. Fired by his words, his deeds the Arcadians view,
+    And shame and anger arm them to the fray.
+    Rhoeteus, as past his two-horsed chariot flew
+    He pierced,--'twas Ilus Pallas meant to slay,
+    And Ilus gained that moment of delay.
+    Rhoeteus, in flight from Teuthras and from thee,
+    His brother Tyres, met the spear midway.
+    Down from his chariot in the dust rolled he,
+And, dying, with his heels beat the Rutulian lea.
+
+LV. As when a shepherd, on a summer's day,
+    The wished-for winds arising, hastes to cast
+    The flames amid the stubble: far away,
+    The mid space seized, the line of fire runs fast
+    From field to field, and broadens with the blast:
+    And, sitting down, the victor from a height
+    Surveys the triumph, as the flames rush past.
+    So all Arcadia's chivalry unite,
+And round thee, Pallas, throng, and aid thee in the fight.
+
+LVI. But lo, from out the foemen's ranks, athirst
+    For battle, fierce Halesus charged, and drew
+    His covering shield before him. Ladon first,
+    Then Pheres, then Demodocus he slew.
+    Next, at his throat as bold Strymonius flew,
+    The glittering falchion severed at a blow
+    The lifted hand. At Thoas' face he threw
+    A stone, that smashed the forehead of his foe,
+And bones, and blood, and brains the spattered earth bestrow.
+
+LVII. Halesus, when a boy, in woods concealed,
+    His sire, a seer, had reared with tender care.
+    But soon as death the old man's eyes had sealed,
+    Fate marked the son for the Evandrian spear.
+    Him Pallas sought; "O Tiber!" was his prayer,
+    "True to Halesus let this javelin go.
+    His arms and spoils thy sacred oak shall bear."
+    'Twas heard: Halesus, shielding from the foe
+Imaon, leaves his breast unguarded to the blow.
+
+LVIII. Firm Lausus stands, bearing the battle's brunt,
+    Nor lets Halesus' death his friends dismay.
+    Dead falls the first who meets him front to front,
+    Brave Abas, knot and holdfast of the fray.
+    Down go Arcadia's chivalry that day,
+    Down go the Etruscans, and the Teucrians, those
+    Whom Grecian conquerors had failed to slay.
+    Man locked with man, amid the conflict's throes,
+With strength and leaders matched, the rival armies close.
+
+LIX. On press the rearmost, crowding on the van,
+    So thick, that neither hand can stir, nor spear
+    Be wielded; each one struggles as he can.
+    Here Pallas, there brave Lausus, charge and cheer,
+    Two foes, in age scarce differing by a year.
+    Both fair of form. Stern Fate to each forbade
+    His home return. But Jove allowed not here
+    A meeting; he who great Olympus swayed,
+Awhile for mightier foes their destined doom delayed.
+
+LX. Warned by his gracious sister, Turnus flies
+    To take the place of Lausus. Driving through
+    The ranks, "Stand off," he shouts to his allies,
+    "I fight with Pallas; Pallas is my due.
+    Would that his sire were here himself to view!"
+    All clear the field. Then, pondering with surprise
+    The proud command, as back the crowd withdrew,
+    The youth, amazed at Turnus, rolls his eyes
+And scans his giant foe, and thus in scorn replies:
+
+LXI. "Or kingly spoils shall make me famed to-day,
+    Or glorious death. Whatever end remain,
+    My sire can bear it. Put thy threats away."
+    Then forth he stepped; cold horror chills his train.
+    Down from his car, close combat to darrain,
+    Leapt Turnus. As a lion, who far away
+    Has marked a bull, that butts the sandy plain
+    For battle, springs to grapple with his prey;
+So dreadful Turnus looks, advancing to the fray.
+
+LXII. Him, deemed within his spear-throw, undismayed
+    The youth prevents, if chance the odds should square,
+    And aid his daring. To the skies he prayed,
+    "O thou, my father's guest-friend, wont whilere
+    A stranger's welcome at his board to share,
+    Aid me, Alcides, prosper my emprise;
+    Let Turnus fall, and, falling, see me tear
+    His blood-stained arms, and may his swooning eyes
+Meet mine, and bear the victor's image, when he dies."
+
+LXIII. Alcides heard, and, stifling in his breast
+    A deep groan, poured his unavailing grief.
+    Whom thus the Sire with kindly words addressed:
+    "Each hath his day; irreparably brief
+    Is mortal life, and fading as the leaf.
+    'Tis valour's part to bid it bloom anew
+    By deeds of fame. Dead many a godlike chief,
+    Dead lies my son Sarpedon. Turnus too
+His proper Fates demand; his destined hour is due."
+
+LXIV. So saying, he turned, and shunned the scene of death.
+    Forth Pallas hurled the spear with all his might,
+    And snatched the glittering falchion from the sheath.
+    Where the shield's top just matched the shoulders' height,
+    Clean through the rim, the javelin winged its flight,
+    And grazed the flesh. Then Turnus, poising slow
+    His oakbeam, tipt with iron sharp and bright,
+    Took aim, and, hurling, shouted to his foe,
+"See, now, if this my lance can deal a deadlier blow."
+
+LXV. He spake, and through the midmost shield, o'erlaid
+    With bull-hide, brass, and iron, welded hard,
+    Whizzed the keen javelin, nor its course delayed,
+    But pierced the broad breast through the corslet's guard.
+    He the warm weapon, in the wound embarred,
+    Wrenched, writhing in his agony; in vain;
+    Out gushed the life and life-blood. O'er him jarred
+    His clanging armour, as he rolled in pain.
+Dying, with bloody mouth he bites the hostile plain.
+
+LXVI. Then Turnus, standing o'er the dead, "Go to,
+    Arcadians, hear and let Evander know,
+    I send back Pallas, handled as was due.
+    If aught of honour can a tomb bestow,
+    If earth's cold lap yield solace to his woe,
+    I grant it. Dearly will his Dardan guest
+    Cost him, I trow." Then, trampling on the foe,
+    His left foot on the lifeless corpse he pressed,
+And tore the ponderous belt in triumph from his breast;
+
+LXVII. The belt, whereon the tale of guilt was told,--
+    The wedding night, the couches smeared with gore,
+    The bridegrooms slain--which Clonus in the gold,
+    The son of Eurytus, had grav'n of yore,
+    And Turnus now, exulting, seized and wore.
+    Vain mortals! triumphing past bounds to-day,
+    Blind to to-morrow's destiny. The hour
+    Shall come, when gold in plenty would he pay
+Ne'er Pallas to have touched, and curse the costly prey.
+
+LXVIII. With tears his comrades lifted from the ground
+    Dead Pallas; groaning, on his shield they bore
+    Him homeward, and the bitter wail went round.
+    "O grief! O glory! fall'n to rise no more!
+    Thus back we bring thee, thus the son restore!
+    One day to battle gave thee, one hath ta'en,
+    Victor and vanquished in the self-same hour!
+    Yet fall'n with honour, for behind thee slain,
+Heaps of Rutulian foes thou leavest on the plain!"
+
+LXIX. Sure tidings to AEneas came apace,--
+    'Twas no mere rumour--of his friends in flight;
+    Time pressed for help, death stared them in the face.
+    Sweeping his foes before him, left and right
+    He mows a passage through the ranks of fight.
+    Thee, haughty Turnus, thee he burns to find,
+    Hot with new blood, and glorying in thy might.
+    The sire, the son, the welcome warm and kind,
+The feast, the parting grasp--all crowd upon his mind.
+
+LXX. Eight youths alive he seizes for the pyre,
+    Four, sons of Sulmo, four, whom Ufens bred,
+    Poor victims, doomed to feed the funeral fire,
+    And pour their blood in quittance for the dead.
+    Then from afar a bitter shaft he sped
+    At Magus. Warily he stoops below
+    The quivering steel, that whistles o'er his head,
+    And, like a suppliant, crouching to his foe,
+Clings to AEneas' knees, and cries in words of woe:
+
+LXXI. "O by the promise of thy youthful heir,
+    By dead Anchises, pity, I implore,
+    My son, my father; for their sakes forbear.
+    Rich is my house, its cellars heaped with store
+    Of gold, and silver talents by the score.
+    'Tis not my doom, that shall the day decide.
+    If Trojans win, one foeman's life the more
+    Mars not the triumph, nor can turn the tide."
+Thus he, and thus in scorn the Dardan chief replied:
+
+LXXII. "The treasures that thou vauntest, let them be.
+    Thy gold, thy silver, and thy hoarded gain
+    Spare for thy children, for they bribe not me.
+    Since Pallas fell by Turnus' hand, 'twere vain
+    To think thy pelf will traffic for the slain,
+    So deems my son, so deems Anchises' shade."
+    He spake, and with his left hand grasped amain
+    His helmet. Even as the suppliant prayed,
+Hilt-deep, the neck bent back, he drove the shining blade.
+
+LXXIII. Hard by, the son of Haemon there was seen,
+    Apollo's priest and Trivia's, all aglow
+    In robe and armour of resplendent sheen,
+    The holy ribboned chaplet on his brow.
+    Him, met, afield he chases, lays him low,
+    And o'er him, like a storm-cloud, dark as night,
+    Stands, hugely shadowing the fallen foe:
+    And back Serestus bears his armour bright,
+A trophy, vowed to thee, Gradivus, lord of fight.
+
+LXXIV. Then Caeculus, to Vulcan's race allied,
+    And Marsian Umbro, rally 'gainst the foe
+    The wavering ranks. The Dardan on his side
+    Still rages. First from Anxur with a blow
+    His sword the shield-arm and the shield laid low.
+    Big things had Anxur boasted, empty jeers,
+    And deemed his valour with his vaunts would grow:
+    Perchance, with spirit lifted to the spheres,
+Hoar hairs he looked to see, and length of peaceful years.
+
+LXXV. Sheathed in bright arms, proud Tarquitus in scorn,
+    Whom Dryope the nymph, if fame be true,
+    To Faunus, ranger of the woods, had borne,
+    Leaped forth, and at the fiery Dardan flew.
+    He, drawing back his javelin, aimed and threw.
+    And through the cuirass and the ponderous shield
+    Pinned him. Then, vainly as he strove to sue,
+    Much pleading, even while the suppliant kneeled.
+Lopt off, the lifeless head went rolling on the field.
+
+LXXVI. His reeking trunk the victor in disdain
+    Spurns with his foot, and cries aloud, "Lie there,
+    Proud youth, and tell thy terrors to the slain.
+    No tender mother shall thy shroud prepare,
+    No father's sepulchre be thine to share.
+    Thy carrion corpse shall be the vultures' food,
+    And birds that batten on the dead shall tear
+    Thee piecemeal, and the fishes lick thy blood,
+Drowned in the deep sea-gulfs, or drifting on the flood."
+
+LXXVII. Lucas, Antaeus in the van were slain.
+    Here Numa, there the fair-haired Camers lay,
+    Great Volscens' son; full many a wide domain
+    Was his, and mute Amyclae owned his sway.
+    As when AEgeon, hundred-armed, they say,
+    And hundred-handed, would the Sire withstand,
+    And fifty mouths, and fifty maws each way
+    Shot flames against Jove's thunder, and each hand
+Clashed on a sounding shield, or bared a glittering brand,
+
+LXXVIII. So raves AEneas, victor of the war,
+    His sword now warmed, and many a foeman dies.
+    Now at Niphaeus, in his four-horse car
+    Breasting the battle, in hot haste he flies.
+    Scared stand the steeds, in terror and surprise,
+    So dire his gestures, as he strides amain,
+    So fierce his looks, so terrible his cries;
+    Then, turning, from his chariot on the plain
+Fling their ill-fated lord, and gallop to the main.
+
+LXXIX. With two white steeds into the midmost dashed
+    Bold Lucagus and Liger, brethren twain.
+    Around him Lucagus his broad sword flashed
+    His brother wheeled the horses with the rein.
+    Fired at the sight, AEneas in disdain
+    Rushed on them, towering with uplifted spear.
+    "No steeds of Diomede, nor Phrygian plain,"
+    Cries Liger, "nor Achilles' car are here.
+This field shall end the war, thy fatal hour is near."
+
+LXXX. So fly his words, but not in words the foe
+    Makes answer, but his javelin hurls with might.
+    As o'er the lash proud Lucagus bends low
+    To prick the steeds, and planting for the fight
+    His left foot forward, stands in act to smite,
+    Clean through the nether margin of his shield
+    The Dardan shaft goes whistling in its flight,
+    And thrills his groin upon the left. He reeled,
+And from the chariot fell half-lifeless on the field.
+
+LXXXI. Then bitterly AEneas mocked him: "Lo,
+    Proud Lucagus! no lagging steeds have played
+    Thy chariot false, nor shadows of the foe
+    Deceived thy horses, and their hearts dismayed.
+    'Tis thou--thy leap has lost the car!" He said
+    And snatched the reins. The brother in despair
+    Slipped down, and spread his hapless hands, and prayed:
+    "O by thyself, great son of Troy, forbear;
+By those who bore thee such, have pity on my prayer."
+
+LXXXII. More would he, but AEneas: "Nay, not so
+    Thou spak'st erewhile. Die now, and take thy way,
+    And join thy brother, brotherlike, below."
+    Deep in the breast he stabbed him as he lay,
+    And bared the life's recesses to the day.
+    Such deaths the Dardan dealt upon the plain,
+    Like storm or torrent, full of rage to slay.
+    And now at length Ascanius and his train
+Burst forth, and leave their camp, long leaguered, but in vain.
+
+LXXXIII. Great Jove meanwhile to Juno spake and said,
+    "Sweet spouse and sister, thou hast deemed aright,
+    'Tis Venus, sure, who doth the Trojans aid,
+    Not courage, strength and patience in the fight."
+    Then Juno meekly: "Dearest, why delight
+    With cruel words to vex me, sad with fear
+    And sick at heart? Had still my love the might
+    It had and should have; were I still so dear,
+Not thou, with all thy power, should'st then refuse to hear,
+
+LXXXIV. "But safe should Turnus from the fight once more
+    Return to greet old Daunus. Be it so,
+    And let him die, and shed his righteous gore
+    To glut the vengeance of his Teucrian foe,
+    Albeit his name celestial birth doth show,
+    Fourth in succession from Pilumnus, yea,
+    Though oft his hand thy sacred shrines below
+    Hath heaped his gifts." She ended, and straightway
+Brief answer made the Sire, who doth Olympus sway:
+
+LXXXV. "If but a respite for the youth be sought,
+    A little time of tarrying, ere he die,
+    And thus thou read'st the purport of my thought,
+    Take then awhile thy Turnus; let him fly
+    And 'scape his present fates; thus far may I
+    Indulge thee. But if aught beneath thy prayer
+    Lie veiled of purpose or of hopes more high,
+    To change the war's whole aspect, then beware,
+For idle hopes thou feed'st, as empty as the air."
+
+LXXXVI. Then She with tears: "What if thy heart should give
+    The pledge and promise, that thy lips disdain,
+    And Turnus by thy warrant still should live?
+    Now death awaits him guiltless, or in vain
+    I read the Fates. Ah! may I merely feign
+    An empty fear, and better thoughts advise
+    Thee--for thou can'st--to spare him and refrain!"
+    So saying, arrayed in storm-clouds, through the skies
+Down to Laurentum's camp and Ilian lines she flies.
+
+LXXXVII. Then straight the Goddess from a hollow cloud--
+    Strange sight to see!--a thin and strengthless shade
+    Shaped like the great AEneas, and endowed
+    With Dardan arms, and fixed the shield, and spread
+    The plume and crest as on his godlike head.
+    And empty words, a soulless sound, she gave,
+    And feigned the fashion of the warrior's tread.
+    Thus ghosts are said to glide above the grave;
+Thus oft delusive dreams the slumbering sense enslave.
+
+LXXXVIII. Proud stalks the phantom, gladdening in the van,
+    With darts provokes him, and with words defies.
+    Forth rushed fierce Turnus, hurling as he ran
+    His whistling spear. The shadow turns and flies.
+    Then Turnus, glorying in his fancied prize,
+    "Where now, AEneas, from thy plighted bride?
+    The land thou soughtest o'er the deep, it lies
+    Here, and this hand shall give it thee." He cried,
+And waved his glittering sword, and chased him, nor espied
+
+LXXXIX. The winds bear off his triumph.--Hard at hand,
+    With steps let down and gangway ready laid,
+    Moored by the rocks, a vessel chanced to stand,
+    Which brave Osinius, Clusium's king, conveyed.
+    Here, as in haste, for shelter plunged the shade.
+    On Turnus pressed, and with a bound ascends
+    The lofty gangways, dauntless nor delayed.
+    The bows scarce reached, the rope Saturnia rends,
+And down the refluent tide the loosened ship descends.
+
+XC. Loud calls AEneas for his absent foe,
+    And many a hero-body--all who dare
+    To meet him--hurries to the shades below.
+    No more the phantom lingers in his lair,
+    But, soaring, melts into the misty air.
+    Turnus a storm-wind o'er the deep sea blows.
+    Backward he looks, and of events unware,
+    And all unthankful to escape his foes.
+Up to the stars of heaven his hand and voice he throws.
+
+XCI. "Great Sire, was I so guilty in thy sight,
+    To make thee deem such punishment my due?
+    Whence came I? Whither am I borne? What flight
+    Is this? and how do I return, and who?
+    Again Laurentum's city shall I view?
+    What of that band, who followed me, whom I--
+    Shame on me--left a shameful death to rue?
+    E'en now I see them scattered,--see them fly,--
+And see them fall; and hear the groans of those that die.
+
+XCII. "What am I doing? Where can Earth for me
+    Gape deep enough? Ye winds that round me roar,
+    Pity I crave, on rocks amid the sea--
+    'Tis Turnus, I, a willing prayer who pour--
+    Dash me this ship, or drive it on the shore,
+    'Mid ruthless shoals, where no Rutulian eyes
+    May see my shame, nor prying Fame explore."
+    Thus he, and, tost in spirit, as he cries,
+This plan and that in turn his wavering thoughts devise:
+
+XCIII. Madly to grasp the dagger in his hand,
+    And through his ribs drive home the naked blade,
+    Or plunge into the deep, and swim to land,
+    And, armed, once more the Teucrian foes invade.
+    Thrice, but in vain, each venture he essayed.
+    Thrice Heaven's high queen, in pity fain to save,
+    Held back the youth, and from his purpose stayed.
+    And borne along by favouring tide and wave,
+On to his father's town the level deep he clave.
+
+XCIV. Jove prompting, fierce Mezentius now the fight
+    Takes up, and charges at the Teucrian foes.
+    And, hurrying up, the Tuscan troops unite.
+    All against one--one only--these and those
+    Their gathered hate and crowding darts oppose.
+    Unmoved he stands, as when a rocky steep
+    In ocean, bare to every blast that blows,
+    Around whose base the savage waves upleap,
+Braves all the threats of heaven, and buffets of the deep.
+
+XCV. Hebrus he slew, from Dolichaon sprung,
+    Then Latagus, then Palmus, as he fled.
+    Full in the face of Latagus he flung
+    A monstrous stone, that stretched him with the dead.
+    Palmus, with severed hamstring, next he sped,
+    And rolled him helpless. Lausus takes his gear;
+    The shining crest he fits upon his head,
+    And dons the breastplate. 'Neath the conqueror's spear
+Phrygian Evanthes falls, and Paris' friend and peer,
+
+XCVI. Young Mimas, whom to Amycus that night
+    Theano bore, when, big with Ilion's bane,
+    Queen Hecuba brought Paris forth to light.
+    Now Paris sleeps upon his native plain,
+    But Mimas on a foreign shore is slain.
+    As when a wild-boar, hounded from the hill,
+    Who long on pine-clad Venulus hath lain,
+    Or in Laurentum's marish fed his fill,
+Now in the toils caught fast, before his foes stands still,
+
+XCVII. And snorts with rage, and rears his bristling back;
+    None dares approach him, but aloof they wait,
+    Safe-shouting, and with distant darts attack;
+    E'en so, of those who burn with righteous hate,
+    None dares against Mezentius try his fate.
+    But cries are hurled, and distant missiles plied,
+    While he, undaunted, but in desperate strait,
+    Gnashes his teeth, and from his shield's tough hide
+Shakes off the darts in showers, and shifts from side to side.
+
+XCVIII. From ancient Corythus came Acron there,
+    A Greek, in exile from his half-won bride.
+    Him, dealing havoc in the ranks, elsewhere
+    Mezentius marked; the purple plumes he eyed,
+    The robe his loved one for her lord had dyed.
+    As when a lion, prowling to and fro,
+    Sore pinched with hunger, round the fold, hath spied
+    A stag tall-antlered, or a timorous roe,
+Ghastly he grins, erect his horrid mane doth show;
+
+XCIX. Prone o'er his victim, to the flesh he clings,
+    And laps the gore; so, burning in his zeal,
+    The fierce Mezentius at his foemen springs.
+    Poor Acron falls, and earth with dying heel
+    Spurns, and the red blood stains the splintered steel.
+    Orodes fled; Mezentius marks his flight,
+    And scorns with lance a covert wound to deal,
+    But face to face confronts him in the fight,
+Courage, not craft, prevails, and might o'ermatches might.
+
+C.  With foot and spear upon him, "See," he cries,
+    "Their champion; see the great Orodes slain!"
+    All shout applause, but, dying, he replies,
+    "Strange foe, not long thy triumph shall remain;
+    Like fate awaits thee, on the self-same plain."
+    "Die!" said Mezentius, with a smile of spite,
+    "Jove cares for me," and plucked the shaft again.
+    Grim rest and iron slumber seal his sight;
+The drooping eyelids close on everlasting night.
+
+CI. Now Caedicus made great Alcathous fall,
+    Sacrator killed Hydaspes; Rapo too
+    Parthenius and Orses, strong and tall;
+    Messapus Clonius, whom his steed o'erthrew,
+    And, foot to foot, Lycaon's son he slew,
+    Brave Ericetes. Valerus with a blow
+    Felled Agis, Lycia' s warrior. Salius flew
+    At Thronius, but Nealces lays him low,
+Skilled with the flying dart and far-deceiving bow.
+
+CII. Stern Mars, impartial, weighs in equal scale
+    The mutual slaughter, and the ghastly fight
+    Raves, as in turn they perish or prevail,
+    Vanquished or victor, for none dreams of flight.
+    From Heaven the gods look pitying on the sight,
+    Such fruitless hate, such scenes of mortal woe.
+    Here Venus, there great Juno, filled with spite,
+    Sits watching. Pale Tisiphone below
+Fierce amid thousands raves, and bids the discord grow.
+
+CIII. His massive spear Mezentius, flown with pride,
+    Shakes in his fury, as he towers amain,
+    Like huge Orion, when with ample stride
+    He cleaves the deep-sea, where the Nereids reign,
+    And lifts his lofty shoulders o'er the main,
+    Or when, uprooting from the mountain head
+    An aged ash, he stalks along the plain,
+    And hides his forehead in the clouds; so dread
+Mezentius clangs his arms, so terrible his tread.
+
+CIV. AEneas marks him in the files of fight
+    Far off, and hastes to meet him in advance.
+    Dauntless he waits, collected in his might,
+    The noble foe, then, measuring at a glance
+    The space his arm can cover with the lance;
+    "May this right hand, my deity," cried he,
+    "And this poised javelin aid the doubtful chance.
+    The spoils, from this false pirate stript, to thee
+My Lausus, I devote; his trophy shalt thou be."
+
+CV. So saying, from far his whistling shaft he threw.
+    Wide glanced the missile, by the tough shield bent,
+    And finding famed Antores, as it flew,
+    'Twixt flank and bowels pierced a deadly rent.
+    He, friend of Hercules, from Argos sent,
+    With king Evander, 'neath Italian skies,
+    Had fixed his home. Alas! a wound unmeant
+    Hath laid him low. To heaven he lifts his eyes,
+And of sweet Argos dreams, his native land, and dies.
+
+CVI. His javelin then the good AEneas cast;
+    Flying it pierced the hollow disk, and through
+    The plates of brass, thrice welded firm and fast,
+    And linen folds, and triple bull-hides flew,
+    And in the groin, with failing force but true,
+    Lodged deep. At once AEneas, for his eye
+    Glistens with joy, the Tuscan's blood to view,
+    His trusty sword unfastening from his thigh,
+Springs at the faltering foe, and bids Mezentius die.
+
+CVII. Love for his sire stirred Lausus, and the tears
+    Rolled down, and heavily he groaned. Thy fate,
+    Brave youth! thy prowess, if the far-off years
+    Shall give due credence to a deed so great,
+    My verse at least shall spare not to relate.
+    While backward limped Mezentius, spent and slow,
+    His shield still cumbered with the javelin's weight,
+    Forth sprang the youth, and grappled with the foe,
+And 'neath AEneas' sword, uplifted for the blow,
+
+CVIII. Slipped in, and checked him. Onward press the train
+    With shouts, to shelter the retreating sire,
+    And distant arrows on the foeman rain.
+    Safe-covered stands AEneas, thrilled with ire.
+    As when the storm-clouds in a deluge dire
+    Pour down the hail, and all the ploughmen fly,
+    And scattered hinds from off the fields retire,
+    And rock or stream-side shields the passer-by,
+Till sunshine calls to toil, and reawakes the sky;
+
+CIX. So, whelmed with darts, the Trojan chief defies
+    The cloud of war, till all its storms abate,
+    And chides and threatens Lausus. "Fool," he cries,
+    "Why rush to death, and dare a deed too great?
+    Rash youth! thy love betrays thee." 'Twas too late;
+    Rage blinds poor Lausus, and he scorns to stay.
+    Then fiercer waxed the Dardan's wrath, and Fate
+    The threads had gathered, for their forceful sway
+Hilt-deep within his breast the falchion urged its way.
+
+CX. It pierced the shield, light armour and the vest,
+    Wrought by his mother with fine golden thread,
+    And drenched with gore the tunic and the breast.
+    Sweet life, departing, left the limbs outspread,
+    And the sad spirit to the ghost-world fled.
+    But when the son of great Anchises scanned
+    The face, the pallid features of the dead,
+    Deeply he groaned, and stretched a pitying hand.
+Grief for his own dear sire his noble soul unmanned.
+
+CXI. "Alas! what meed, to match such worth divine,
+    Can good AEneas give thee? Take to-day
+    The arms wherein thou joyed'st; they are thine.
+    Thy corpse--if aught can please the senseless clay--
+    Back to thy parents' ashes I repay.
+    Poor youth! thy solace be it to be slain
+    By great AEneas." Then his friends' delay
+    He chides, and lifts young Lausus from the plain,
+Dead, and with dainty locks fouled by the crimson stain.
+
+CXII. Meanwhile the sire Mezentius, faint with pain,
+    In Tiber's waters bathes the bleeding wound.
+    Against a trunk he leans; the boughs sustain
+    His brazen helm; his arms upon the ground
+    Rest idly, and his comrades stand around.
+    Sick, gasping, spent, his weary neck he tends;
+    Loose o'er his bosom floats the beard unbound.
+    Oft of his son he questions, oft he sends
+To bid him quit the field, and seek his sire and friends.
+
+CXIII. But, sad and sorrowful, the Tuscan train
+    Bear back the lifeless Lausus from the field,
+    Weeping--the mighty by a mightier slain,
+    And laid in death upon the warrior's shield.
+    Far off, their wailing to the sire revealed
+    The grief, that made his boding heart mistrust.
+    In agony of vanquish, down he kneeled,
+    His hoary hairs disfiguring with the dust,
+And, grovelling, clasped the corpse, and both his hands outthrust.
+
+CXIV. "Dear son, was life so tempting to the sire,
+    To let thee face the foemen in my room,
+    Whom I begot? Shalt thou, my son, expire,
+    And I live on, my darling in the tomb,
+    Saved by thy wounds, and living by thy doom?
+    Ah! woe is me; too well at length I own
+    The pangs of exile, and the wound strikes home.
+    'Twas I, thy name who tarnished, I alone,
+Whom just resentment thrust from sceptre and from throne.
+
+CXV. "Due to my country was the forfeit; yea,
+    All deaths Mezentius had deserved to die.
+    Yet still I leave, and leave not man and day,
+    But leave I will,--the fatal hour is nigh."
+    Then, slowly leaning on his crippled thigh
+    (Deep was the wound, but dauntless was his breast),
+    He rose, and calling for his steed hard by,
+    The steed, that oft in victory's hour he pressed,
+His solace and his pride, the sorrowing beast addressed:
+
+CXVI. "Rhaebus, full long, if aught of earth be long,
+    We two have lived. AEneas' head to-day,
+    And spoils, blood-crimsoned to avenge this wrong,
+    Back shalt thou bring, or, failing in the fray,
+    Bite earth with me, and be the Dardan's prey.
+    Not thou would'st brook a foreign lord, I weet,
+    Brave heart, or deign a Teucrian to obey."
+    He spoke, and, mounting to his well-known seat,
+Swift at the ranks spurred forth, his dreaded foe to meet.
+
+CXVII. Each hand a keen dart brandished; o'er his head
+    Gleamed the brass helmet with its horse-hair crest.
+    Shame for himself, and sorrow for the dead,
+    The parent's anguish, and the warrior's zest,
+    Thrilled through his veins, and kindled in his breast,
+    And thrice he called AEneas. With delight
+    AEneas heard him, and his vows addressed:
+    "So help me Jove, so Phoebus lend his might,
+Come on," and couched his spear, advancing to the fight.
+
+CXVIII. "Wretch," cries Mezentius, "having robbed my son,
+    Why scare me now? Thy terrors I defy.
+    Only through Lausus were his sire undone.
+    I heed not death nor deities, not I;
+    Forbear thy taunting; I am here to die,
+    But send this gift to greet thee, ere I go."
+    He spake, and quickly let a javelin fly,
+    Another--and another, as round the foe
+In widening orbs he wheels; the good shield bides the blow.
+
+CXIX. Thrice round AEneas leftward he careers,
+    Raining his darts. Thrice, shifting round, each way
+    The Trojan bears the forest of his spears.
+    At length, impatient of the long delay,
+    And tired with plucking all the shafts away,
+    Pondering awhile, and by the ceaseless blows
+    Hard pressed, and chafing at the unequal fray,
+    Forth springs AEneas, and betwixt the brows
+Full at the warrior-steed a fatal javelin throws.
+
+CXX. Up rears the steed, and paws the air in pain,
+    Then, following on his falling rider, lies
+    And pins him with his shoulder to the plain.
+    Shouts from each host run kindling through the skies.
+    Forth springs AEneas, glorying in his prize,
+    And plucks the glittering falchion from his thigh,
+    "Where now is fierce Mezentius? where," he cries,
+    "That fiery spirit?" Then, with upturned eye,
+Gasping, with gathered sense, the Tuscan made reply:
+
+CXXI. "Stern foe! why taunt and threaten? 'twere no shame
+    To slay me. No such covenant to save
+    His sire made Lausus; nor for this I came.
+    One boon I ask--if vanquished men may crave
+    The victor's grace--a burial for the brave.
+    My people hate me; I have lived abhorred;
+    Shield me from them with Lausus in the grave."
+    This said, his throat he offered to the sword,
+And o'er his shining arms life's purple stream was poured.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK ELEVEN
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+AEneas erects a trophy of Mezentius' arms, and sends the body of
+Pallas with tears and lamentations to Evander (1-108). A truce for
+the burial of the dead is asked by the Latins, and sympathy with the
+Trojan cause finds a spokesman in Drances (109-144). The sorrow of
+Evander and the funeral rites of Trojans and Latins (145-262). The
+ambassadors return from the city of Diomedes and report that he
+praises AEneas and counsels submission (263-336). An anxious debate
+follows: Latinus suggests terms of peace: Drances inveighs against
+Turnus, who replies, protesting his readiness to meet AEneas in
+single combat, and presently seizes the opportunity afforded by a
+false alarm of impending attack to break up the council. The Latin
+mothers and maidens offer gifts and litanies to Pallas. Turnus arms
+for battle (337-576). Camilla and Messapus command the Latin horse;
+Turnus prepares an ambuscade (577-612). Diana tells the story of
+Camilla and charges Opis, one of her nymphs, to avenge her should
+she fall (613-684). Opis watches the battle before the city of
+Latinus (685-738). The deeds and death of Camilla are recounted:
+Aruns, her slayer, is slain by Opis (739-972). The Latins are routed,
+and Turnus, learning the news, abandons the ambush and hurries to
+the city, closely followed by AEneas (973-1026).
+
+
+I.  Meanwhile from Ocean peeps the dawning day.
+    The Dardan chief, though fain his friends to mourn,
+    And pressed with thoughts of burial, hastes to pay
+    His vows, as victor, with the rising morn.
+    A towering oak-tree, of its branches shorn,
+    He plants upon a mound. Aloft, in sight,
+    The glittering armour from Mezentius torn,
+    His spoils, he hangs,--a trophy to thy might,
+Great Mars, the Lord of war, the Ruler of the fight.
+
+II. Thereon he sets the helmet and the crest,
+    Bedewed with gore, the javelins snapt in twain,
+    And fits the corslet on the warrior's breast,
+    Pierced in twelve places through the twisted chain.
+    The left arm, as for battle, bears again
+    The brazen shield, and from the neck depends
+    The ivory-hilted falchion of the slain.
+    Around, with shouts of triumph, crowd his friends,
+Whom thus the Dardan chief with gladdening words commends:
+
+III. "Comrades, great deeds have been achieved to-day;
+    Let not the morrow trouble you. See there
+    The tyrant's spoils, the first-fruits of the fray.
+    And this my work, Mezentius. Now prepare
+    To king Latinus and his walls to fare.
+    Let hope forestall, and courage hail the fray,
+    So, when the gods shall summon us to bear
+    The standards forth, and muster our array,
+No fears shall breed dull sloth, nor ignorance delay.
+
+IV. "Our co-mates now commit we to the ground,
+    Sole honour that in Acheron below
+    Awaits them. Go ye, on these souls renowned,
+    Who poured their blood, to purchase from the foe
+    This country for our fatherland, bestow
+    The last, sad gift, the tribute of a tomb.
+    First to Evander's city, whelmed in woe,
+    Send Pallas back, whom Death's relentless doom
+Hath reft ere manhood's prime, and plunged in early gloom."
+
+V.  He spake, and sought the threshold, weeping sore,
+    Where by dead Pallas watched with pious care
+    Acoetes; once Evander's arms he bore,
+    His squire; since then, with auspices less fair,
+    The trusted guardian of his dear-loved heir.
+    A crowd of sorrowing menials stand around,
+    And Troy's sad matrons, with their streaming hair.
+    These, when AEneas at the door is found,
+Shriek out, and beat their breasts, and bitter wails resound.
+
+VI. He marked the pillowed head, the snow-white face,
+    The smooth breast, gaping with the wound, and cried
+    In anguish, while the tears burst forth apace,
+    "Poor boy; hath Fortune, in her hour of pride,
+    To me thy triumph and return denied?
+    Not such my promise to thy sire; not so
+    My pledge to him, who, ere I left his side
+    In quest of empire, clasped me, boding woe,
+And warned the race was fierce, and terrible the foe.
+
+VII. "He haply now, by empty hope betrayed,
+    With prayer and presents doth the gods constrain.
+    We to the dead, whose debt to Heaven is paid,
+    The rites of mourners render, but in vain.
+    Unhappy! doomed to see thy darling slain.
+    Is this the triumph? this the promise sworn?
+    This the return? Yet never thine the pain
+    A coward's flight, a coward's scars to mourn;
+Not thine to long for death, thy loved one saved with scorn.
+
+VIII. "Ah, weep, Ausonia! thou hast lost to-day
+    Thy champion. Weep, Iulus; he is ta'en,
+    Thy heart's delight, the bulwark of the fray!"
+    Thus he with tears, and bids them lift the slain.
+    A thousand men, the choicest of his train,
+    He sends as mourners, with the corpse to go,
+    And stand between the parent and his pain,
+    A scanty solace for so huge a woe,
+But such as pity claims, and piety doth owe.
+
+IX. Of oaken twigs and arbutus they wove
+    A wattled bier. Soft leaves beneath him made
+    His pillow, and with leafy boughs above
+    They twined a verdurous canopy of shade.
+    There, on his rustic couch the youth is laid,
+    Fair as the hyacinth, with drooping head,
+    Cropped by the careless fingers of a maid,
+    Or tender violet, when life has fled,
+That, torn from earth, still blooms, unfaded but unfed.
+
+X.  Two purple mantles, stiff with golden braid,
+    AEneas brings, which erst, in loving care,
+    Sidonian Dido with her hands had made,
+    And pranked with golden tissue, for his wear.
+    One, wound in sorrow round the corpse so fair,
+    The last, sad honour, shrouds the senseless clay;
+    One, ere the burning, veils the warrior's hair.
+    Rich spoils, the trophies of Laurentum's fray,
+Stript arms and steeds he brings, and bids them pile the prey.
+
+XI. Here march the captives, doomed to feed the flames;
+    There, staff in hand, each Dardan chief uprears
+    The spoil-decked ensigns, marked with foemen's names.
+    There, too, they lead Acoetes, bowed with years,
+    He smites his breast, his haggard cheeks he tears,
+    Then flings his full length prostrate. There, again,
+    The blood-stained chariot, and with big, round tears,
+    Stript of his trappings, in the mournful train,
+AEthon, the warrior's steed, comes sorrowing for the slain.
+
+XII. These bear the dead man's helmet and his spear;
+    All else the victor for his spoils hath ta'en.
+    A melancholy phalanx close the rear,
+    Teucrians, and Tuscans, and Arcadia's train,
+    With arms reversed, and mourning for the slain.
+    So passed the pomp, and, while the tear-drops fell,
+    AEneas stopped, and, groaning, cried again,
+    "Hail, mighty Pallas! us the fates compel
+Yet other tears to shed. Farewell! a long farewell!"
+
+XIII. He spake, then, turning, to the camp doth fare.
+    Thither Laurentum's envoys found their way.
+    Branches of olive in their hands they bear,
+    And beg a truce,--a respite from the fray,
+    Their slaughtered comrades in the ground to lay,
+    And glean the war's sad harvest. Brave men ne'er
+    Warred with the dead and vanquished. Once were they
+    His hosts and kinsmen; he would surely spare.
+Their plea AEneas owns, and thus accosts them fair:
+
+XIV. "What mischief, Latins, hath your minds misled,
+    To shun our friendship in the hour of need,
+    And rush to arms? Peace ask ye for the dead,
+    The War-God's prey, whom folly doomed to bleed?
+    Peace to the living would I fain concede.
+    I came not hither, but with Heaven to guide.
+    Fate chose this country, and this home decreed;
+    Nor war I with the race. Your king denied
+Our proffered league; 'twas he on Turnus' arms relied.
+
+XV. "'Twere juster then that Turnus hand to hand
+    His life had ventured. Dreams he in his pride
+    To end the war, and drive us from the land?
+    _He_ should have met me; he or I had died,
+    As Fate or prowess might the day decide.
+    Go, take your dead, and let the bale-fires blaze:
+    Ye have your answer." Thus the prince replied,
+    And each on each the wondering heralds gaze,
+Mute with admiring awe, and wildered with amaze.
+
+XVI. Then Drances, ever fain with gibes and hate
+    To vex young Turnus, takes the word and cries,
+    "O Trojan, great in fame, in arms more great,
+    What praise of mine shall match thee with the skies?
+    What most--thy deeds or justice--shall I prize?
+    Grateful, this answer to our friends we bear,
+    And thee (let Turnus seek his own allies),
+    Thee King Latinus shall his friend declare,
+And Latium's sons with joy Troy's destined walls prepare."
+
+XVII. He spake; as one, all murmur their assent.
+    For twice six days a solemn truce they plight,
+    And Teucrians, now, with Latins, freely blent
+    In peaceful fellowship, as friends unite,
+    And roam the wooded hills. Sharp axes smite
+    The sounding ash; these with keen wedges cleave
+    Tall oak and scented cedar; those with might
+    The pine-tree, soaring to the stars, upheave,
+And wains, with groaning wheels, the giant elms receive.
+
+XVIII. Now Rumour, harbinger of woe so great,
+    That told of Pallas victor, fills again
+    Evander's town. All hurry to the gate,
+    With torches snatched, as ancient rites ordain.
+    A line of fire, that parts the dusky plain,
+    The long road gleams before them, as they go
+    To meet the mourners. Soon the wailing train
+    The Phrygians join. With shrieks the matrons know
+Far off the funeral throng, and fill the town with woe.
+
+XIX. Naught stays Evander; through the midst he springs,
+    And falling on the bier, as down they lay
+    Dead Pallas, groaning to his child he clings,
+    And hangs with tears upon the senseless clay,
+    Till speech, half-choked with sorrow, finds a way.
+    "Pallas, not such thy promise to thy sire,
+    Warely to trust the War-God in the fray.
+    I knew what ardour would thy soul inspire,
+The charms of new-won fame, and battle's fierce desire.
+
+XX. "O bitter first-fruits of a youth so fair!
+    O war's stern prelude! promise dashed to scorn!
+    Unheeded vows, and unavailing prayer!
+    O happy spouse! not left, like me, to mourn
+    A son thus slaughtered, and a life outworn.
+    I have o'erlived my destiny; life fled
+    When Pallas left me childless and forlorn.
+    O, had I fall'n with Trojans in his stead,
+And me this pomp brought home, and not my Pallas, dead!
+
+XXI. "Yet, Trojans, you I blame not, nor the hands
+    We joined in friendship, nor the league we swore.
+    Old age--too old--this cruel lot demands.
+    Ah, sweet to think, though falling in his flower,
+    He fell, where thousand Volscians fell before,
+    Leading Troy's sons to Latium. Thou shalt have
+    A Trojan's funeral--can I wish thee more?--
+    What rites AEneas offers to the brave,
+And all Etruria's hosts shall bear thee to the grave.
+
+XXII. "Proud trophies those who perish by thy hand
+    Bear thee, and slaughtered foemen speak thy fame.
+    Thou, Turnus, too, an effigy should'st stand,
+    Hung round with arms, and Pallas' praise proclaim,
+    Had but thine age and Pallas' been the same,
+    Like thine the vigour of his years. But O!
+    Why, Teucrians, do I keep you? wherefore claim
+    An old man's privilege of empty woe?
+This message bear your king, and con it as ye go.
+
+XXIII. "If yet I linger on, with Pallas slain,
+    Loathing the light, and longing to expire,
+    'Tis thy right hand that tempts me to remain,
+    That hand from which--thou see'st it--son and sire
+    The penalty of Turnus' blood require.
+    This niche of fame,--'tis all the Fates bestow--
+    Awaits thee still. For me, all life's desire--
+    'Twere vain--hath fled; but gladly would I go,
+And bear the welcome news to Pallas' shade below."
+
+XXIV. Meanwhile to weary mortals fresh and fair
+    Upsprings the Dawn, and reawakes the land
+    To toil and labour. Reared with pious care
+    By Tarchon and the good AEneas, stand
+    The funeral pyres along the winding strand.
+    Here brings each warrior, as in days gone by,
+    His comrade's corpse, and holds the lighted brand.
+    The dusk flames burn beneath them, and on high
+The clouds of smoke roll up, and shroud the lofty sky.
+
+XXV. Three times the Trojans, sheathed in shining mail,
+    Pace round the piles; three times they ride around
+    The funeral fire, and raise the warrior's wail.
+    Tears bathe their arms, and tears bedew the ground,
+    And, mixt with clamour, comes the clarion's sound.
+    Spoils of dead Latins on the flames are thrown,
+    Bits, bridles, glowing wheels and helmets crown'd
+    With glittering plumes, and, last, the gifts well-known,
+The luckless spear and shield, the weapons of their own.
+
+XXVI. Oxen in numbers round the pyres are slain
+    To Death's dread power, and herds of bristly swine;
+    And cattle, snatched from all the neighbouring plain,
+    And sheep they slaughter for the flames divine.
+    Far down the sea-coast, where the bale-fires shine,
+    They guard and gaze upon the pyres, where lie
+    Their burning comrades, nor their watch resign,
+    Nor leave the spot, till dewy night on high
+Rolls round the circling heavens, and starlight gilds the sky.
+
+XXVII. Nor less the sorrowing Latins build elsewhere
+    Their countless piles. These burying they bemoan;
+    Those to the town or neighbouring fields they bear.
+    The rest, untold, unhonoured and unknown,
+    A mass of carnage, on the flames are thrown.
+    Thick blaze the fires, and light the plains around,
+    And on the third dawn, when the mists have flown,
+    The bones and dust, still smouldering on the ground,
+Mourning, they rake in heaps, and cover with a mound.
+
+XXVIII. But loudest in Laurentum rose the noise
+    Of woe and wailing for their friends who died.
+    Here, mothers, wives, sad sisters, orphaned boys
+    Curse the dire war, and Turnus and his bride.
+    "Let him, let Turnus fight it out," they cried;
+    "Who claims chief honours and Italia's throne,
+    And caused the quarrel, let his sword decide";
+    And spiteful Drances: "Ay, 'tis he alone
+Whom Latium's foes demand; the challenge is his own."
+
+XXIX. And voices, too, with various reasons, plead
+    For Turnus, sheltered by the queen's great name,
+    And spoils that speak for many a glorious deed.
+    Lo, in the midst, the tumult still aflame,
+    With doleful news from Diomede, back came
+    The envoys. All was useless,--gifts, and prayer,
+    And proffered gold; his answer was the same:
+    Let Latins look for other arms elsewhere,
+Or beg the Trojan king in clemency to spare.
+
+XXX. Grief bowed Latinus, and his heart sank low.
+    The wrath of Heaven, the recent funerals,
+    The graves before them--all AEneas show
+    The god's true choice. A council straight he calls,
+    And Latium's chiefs convenes within his walls.
+    All meet; along the crowded ways the peers
+    Stream at the summons. In his palace-halls
+    Amidst them sits Latinus, first in years,
+And first in sceptred state, but filled with anxious fears.
+
+XXXI. Forthwith the envoys he invites, each man
+    To tell his message, and the terms expound,
+    Then, silence made, thus Venulus began:
+    "Friends, we have seen great Diomede, and found
+    The Argive camp, and, safe from peril, crowned
+    Our journey's end, and pressed the mighty hand
+    That razed old Troy. On Iapygian ground
+    By Garganus the conqueror hath planned
+Argyripa's new town, named from his native land.
+
+XXXII. "There, audience gained and liberty to speak,
+    The gifts we tender, and our names declare
+    And country, who our foemen, what we seek,
+    And why to Arpi and his court we fare.
+    He hears, and gently thus bespeaks us fair:
+    'O happy nations, once by Saturn blest,
+    Time-old Ausonians, what sad misfare,
+    What evil fortune mars your ancient rest
+And tempts to wage strange wars, and dare the doubtful test?
+
+XXXIII. "'All we, whoever with the steel profaned
+    Troy's fields (I leave the wasting siege alone,
+    The dead, who lie in Simois), all have drained
+    Evils past utterance, o'er the wide world blown,
+    And, suffering, learned our trespass to atone,
+    A hapless band! E'en Priam's self might weep
+    For woes like ours, as Pallas well hath known,
+    Whose baleful star once wrecked us on the deep,
+And grim Euboea's rocks, Caphareus' vengeful steep.
+
+XXXIV. "'Freed from that war, to distant shores we stray.
+    To Proteus' Pillars, far remote from men
+    An exile, Menelaus wends his way;
+    Ulysses shudders at the Cyclops' den;
+    Why speak of Pyrrhus, by Orestes slain?
+    Or poor Idomeneus, expelled his state?
+    Of Locrians, cast upon the Libyan plain?
+    Of Agamemnon, greatest of the great,
+Mycenae's valiant lord, slain by his faithless mate,
+
+XXXV. "'E'en on his threshold, when the adulterer lay
+    In wait for Asia's conqueror? Me, too,
+    Hath envious Heaven in exile doomed to stay,
+    Nor home, nor wife, nor Calydon to view.
+    Nay, ghastly prodigies my flight pursue.
+    Transformed to birds, my comrades wing the skies,--
+    Ah! cruel punishment for friends so true!--
+    Or skim the streams; from all the shores arise
+Their piteous shrieks, the cliffs re-echo with their cries.
+
+XXXVI. "'Such woes had I to look for, from the day
+    I dared a goddess, and my javelin tore
+    The hand of Venus. To such fights, I pray,
+    Persuade me not. Troy fall'n, I fight no more
+    With Trojans, nor those evil days of yore
+    Now care to dwell on. To AEneas go,
+    And take these gifts. Once, hand to hand, we bore
+    The shock of battle; to my cost I know
+How to his shield he towers, the whirlwind of his throw.
+
+XXXVII. "'Had Ida's land two others borne as great,
+    To Argos Dardanus had found his way,
+    And Greece were mourning now a different fate.
+    The stubborn siege, the conquerors kept at bay,
+    For ten whole years, the triumph's long delay
+    Were his and Hector's doing, each in might
+    Renowned, and each the foremost in the fray,
+    AEneas first in piety. Go, plight
+What peace ye may, but shun to meet him in the fight.'
+
+XXXVIII. "Thou hast, great king, the answer of the king,
+    And this, his sentence on the war." So they,
+    And diverse murmurs in the crowd upspring;
+    As when big rocks a rushing torrent stay,
+    The prisoned waters, chafing with delay,
+    Boil, and the banks in many a foaming crest
+    Fling back with echoes the tumultuous spray.
+    Now from his throne, their murmurs laid to rest,
+The King, first offering prayer, his listening folk addressed:
+
+XXXIX. "I would, ye peers, and better it had been
+    An earlier hour had called us to debate,
+    Than thus in haste a council to convene,
+    And meet, while foemen battle at the gate.
+    A war ill-omened, with disastrous fate,
+    We wage with men unconquered in the field,
+    A race of gods, whose force nor toils abate,
+    Nor wounds can tire; who, driven back, still wield
+The sword and shake the spear, and, beaten, scorn to yield.
+
+XL. "What hope ye had in Diomede, give o'er;
+    Each for himself must be his hope and stay.
+    This hope how slender, and our straits how sore,
+    Ye see; the general ruin and decay
+    Is open, palpable and clear as day.
+    Yet blame I none; what valour could, was done.
+    Our country's strength, our souls were in the fray.
+    Hear then in brief, and ponder every one,
+What wavering thoughts have shaped, our present fate to shun.
+
+XLI. "Far-stretching westward, past Sicania's bound,
+    By Tiber's stream, an ancient tract is mine.
+    Auruncans and Rutulians till the ground;
+    Their ploughshares cleave the stubborn slopes, their kine
+    Graze on the rocks. This tract, these hills of pine
+    Let Latins yield the Trojans for their own,
+    And both, as friends, in equal league combine
+    And share the realm. Here let them settle down,
+If so they love the land, and build the wished-for town.
+
+XLII. "But if new frontiers, and another folk,
+    They fain would look for, and can leave our shore,
+    Then twice ten ships of tough Italian oak
+    Build we, nor only let us build a score
+    Can they but man them (by the stream good store
+    Of timber is at hand); let them decide
+    The form, the number, and the size. What more
+    Is wanting, we will grudge not to provide,
+Gold, labour, brass, and docks, and naval gear beside.
+
+XLIII. "Nay more, to strike the proffered league, 'twere good
+    That chosen envoys to their camp should fare,
+    A hundred Latins of the noblest blood,
+    The peaceful olive in their hands to bear,
+    With gifts, the choicest that the realm can spare,
+    Talents of gold and ivory, just in weight,
+    The royal mantle, and the curule chair,
+    The marks of rule. With freedom now debate,
+Consult the common weal, and help the sickly state."
+
+XLIV. Up rose then Drances, with indignant mien,
+    Whom, spiteful still, the fame of Turnus stung
+    With carping envy, and malignant spleen;
+    Lavish of wealth, and fluent with his tongue,
+    No mean adviser in debate, and strong
+    In faction, but in battle cold and tame.
+    From royal seed his mother's race was sprung,
+    His sire's unknown. He thus with words of blame
+Piles up the general wrath, and fans resentment's flame.
+
+XLV. "Good king, the matter--it is plain, for each
+    Knows well our needs, but hesitates to say.
+    Let _him_ cease blustering, and allow free speech,
+    Him, for whose pride and sullen temper, yea,
+    I say it, let him threaten as he may--
+    Quenched is the light of many a chief, that lies
+    In earth's cold lap, and mourning and dismay
+    Have filled the town, while, sure of flight, he tries
+To storm the Trojan camp, and idly flouts the skies.
+
+XLVI. "One gift, O best of monarchs, add, to crown
+    Thy bounty to the Dardans,--one, beside
+    These many, nor let bluster bear thee down.
+    A worthy husband for thy child provide,
+    And peace shall with the lasting pact abide.
+    Else, if such terror doth our souls enslave,
+    Him now, in hope to turn away his pride,
+    Him let us pray his proper right to waive,
+And, pitying, deign to yield what king and country crave.
+
+XLVII. "O Turnus, cause of all our ills to-day,
+    Why make the land these miseries endure?
+    The war is desperate; for peace we pray,
+    And that one pledge, inviolably sure,
+    Naught else but which can make the peace secure.
+    Thy foeman, I--nor be the fact concealed,
+    For so thou deem'st--entreat thee and adjure.
+    Blood flows enough on many a wasted field.
+Relent, and spare thine own, and, beaten, learn to yield.
+
+XLVIII. "Or, if fame tempt, and in thy bosom glow
+    Such fire, and so thou hankerest to gain
+    A kingdom's dower, take heart and face the foe.
+    Must we, poor souls, that Turnus may obtain
+    A royal bride, like carrion strew the plain,
+    Unwept, unburied? If thine arm hath might,
+    If but a spark of native worth remain,
+    Go forth this hour; in arms assert thy right,
+And meet him, face to face, who calls thee to the fight."
+
+XLIX. Fierce blazed the wrath of Turnus, and he wrung
+    Speech from his breast, deep groaning in his gall.
+    "Glib art thou, Drances, voluble of tongue,
+    When hands are needed, and the trumpets call.
+    The council summoned, thou art first of all.
+    Not this the hour thy vapouring to outpour,
+    Though big thy talk, and brave the words, that fall
+    From craven lips, while ramparts stand before,
+To guard thee safe from foes, nor trenches swim with gore.
+
+L.  "Rave on, and thunder in thy wonted strain,
+    And brand me coward, thou whose hands can slay
+    Such Trojan hosts, whose trophies grace the plain.
+    What worth can do, and manhood can essay,
+    We twain may venture. Sooth, not far away
+    Need foes be sought; around the walls they throng.
+    March we to meet them! Dotard, why delay?
+    Still dwells thy War-God in a windy tongue,
+And flying feet, and knees all feeble and unstrung?
+
+LI. "I beaten? Who, foul spawn of earth, shall call
+    Me beaten? who, that saw swoln Tiber flow
+    Red with the blood of Trojans, ay, and all
+    Evander's house and progeny laid low,
+    And fierce Arcadians vanquished at a blow?
+    Not such dead Pandarus and Bitias found
+    This right hand, nor those thousands hurled below
+    In one short day, when battlement and mound
+Hemmed me in hostile walls, and foemen swarmed around.
+
+LII. "No hope from war?--Go, fool, to Dardan ears
+    These bodings whisper, to thy new ally.
+    Go, swell the panic, spread the coward's fears.
+    Puff up the foemen's prowess to the sky,--
+    Twice-conquered churls,--and Latin arms decry.
+    See now, forsooth, the Myrmidons afraid
+    Of Phrygian arms, Tydides fain to fly,
+    Achilles trembling, Aufidus in dread
+Shrunk from the Hadrian deep, and cowering in his bed.
+
+LIII. "Or mark the trickster's cunning when he feigns
+    To fear my vengeance, whom his taunts revile!
+    Nay, Drances, be at ease; this hand disdains
+    To take the forfeit of a soul so vile.
+    Keep it, fit inmate of that breast of guile,
+    And now, good Sire, if, beaten, we despair,
+    If never Fate on Latin arms shall smile,
+    And naught our ruined fortunes can repair,
+Stretch we our craven hands, and beg the foe to spare.
+
+LIV. "Yet oh! if aught of ancient worth remain,
+    Him deem I noblest, and his end renowned,
+    Brave soul! who sooner than behold such stain,
+    Fell once for all, and, dying, bit the ground.
+    But, if fit men and martial means abound,
+    And towns and tribes, to muster at our call,
+    Hath Italy; if Trojans, too, have found
+    Fame dearly bought with many a brave man's fall
+(For they have, too, their deaths; the storm hath swept o'er all),
+
+LV. "Why fail we on the threshold, faint with fears,
+    And sick knees tremble ere the trumpets bray?
+    Time--healing Time--and long, laborious years
+    Oft raise the humble; Fortune in her play
+    Lifts those to-morrow, whom she lowers to-day.
+    What though no aid AEtolian Arpi lends,
+    Ours is Messapus, ours Tolumnius, yea,
+    And all whom Latium or Laurentum sends,
+Nor scanty fame, nor slow Italia's hosts attends.
+
+LVI. "Ours, too, is brave Camilla, noble maid,
+    The pride of Volscians, and she leads a band
+    Of horsemen fierce, in brazen arms arrayed.
+    If me the foe to single fight demand,
+    And so ye will, and I alone withstand
+    The common good, come danger as it may,
+    Not so hath victory fled this hated hand,
+    Not yet so weak is Turnus, as to stay
+With such a prize unsnatched, and falter from the fray.
+
+LVII. "Though greater than the great Achilles he,
+    Though, like Achilles, Vulcan's arms he wear,
+    Fain will I meet him. Lo, to you, to thee,
+    Latinus, father of the bride so fair,
+    I, Turnus, I, in prowess past compare,
+    Devote this life. AEneas calls but me,
+    So let him, rather than that Drances bear
+    The smart, if death the wrathful gods decree,
+Or, if 'tis glory's field, usurp the victor's fee."
+
+LVIII. While thus, with wrangling and contentious doubt,
+    They urged debate, AEneas his array
+    Moved from the camp. Behold, a trusty scout
+    Back, through Latinus' palace, speeds his way,
+    And fills the town with tumult and dismay.
+    The Trojans--see!--the Trojans,--down they swarm
+    From Tiber. See the meadows far away
+    Alive with foes! Rage, turmoil and alarm
+In turns distract the town. "Arm," cry the young men, "arm!"
+
+LIX. The old men weep and mutter. Clamours rend
+    The startled skies, and discord reigns supreme,
+    E'en as when birds on lofty woods descend
+    In flocks, or in Padusa's fishful stream
+    The swans sing hoarsely, and the wild-fowl scream
+    Along the babbling waters. Turnus straight
+    The moment snatched. "Ah! townsmen, sooth, ye deem
+    This hour an hour to chatter and debate;
+Sit on, and praise sweet peace, while foemen storm the gate."
+
+LX. He spake, and from the council dashed with speed.
+    "Go, Volusus," he cries, "and arm amain
+    The Volscians; hither the Rutulians lead.
+    Messapus, go, with horsemen in thy train,
+    And Coras, with thy brother scour the plain.
+    Let these all entrance at the gate forestall,
+    And man the turrets; let the rest remain
+    In arms, and wait my bidding." One and all,
+The townsmen throng the streets, and hurry to the wall.
+
+LXI. Then, sore distrest, the aged king proclaims
+    The council closed, and for a happier tide
+    Puts off debate; and oft himself he blames,
+    Who welcomed not AEneas to his side,
+    Nor graced his city with a Dardan's bride.
+    But hark! to battle peals the clarion's call.
+    These by the gate dig trenches, those provide
+    Sharp stakes and stones. Along the girdling wall
+Pale boys and matrons stand: the last hour cries for all.
+
+LXII. To Pallas' rock-built temple rides the queen,
+    Bearing her gifts. The matrons march in line,
+    And by her side is fair Lavinia seen,
+    The war's sad authoress, with down-dropt eyne.
+    They, entering in, with incense fume the shrine,
+    And from the threshold pour the mournful strain:
+    "O strong in arms, Tritonian maid divine!
+    Break thou the Phrygian robber's spear in twain,
+And 'neath the gates strike down and stretch him on the plain."
+
+LXIII. Now in hot haste fierce Turnus dons the mail,
+    Eager for battle. On his breast he laced
+    The corselet, rough with many a brazen scale.
+    Around his legs the golden greaves he placed,
+    His brow yet bare, and at his side he braced,
+    The trusty sword. All golden is the glow
+    Of burnished arms, as down the height in haste
+    He flies exulting to the field below.
+High leaps his heart, and hope anticipates the foe.
+
+LXIV. So, free at length, his tether snapt in twain,
+    Swift from his stall, in eager joy, the steed
+    Bounds forth and, master of the open plain,
+    Now seeks the mares that in the pastures feed,
+    Now towards the well-known river scours the mead,
+    Wont there to cool his glowing sides, and neighs
+    With head erect and glories in his speed,
+    While o'er his collar and his shoulders plays
+The waving mane, flung loose in many a wandering maze.
+
+LXV. Him meets Camilla, with her Volscian train,
+    And by the gate dismounting then and there
+    (Down likewise leap her followers to the plain),
+    "Turnus," she cries, "if confidence can e'er
+    Befit the brave, I venture and I swear
+    Singly to face yon Trojans in the fray,
+    And stem the Tuscan cavalry. My care
+    Shall be the war's first hazards to essay;
+Thou guard the walls afoot, and by the ramparts stay."
+
+LXVI. Then he, with eyes fixt on the wondrous maid,
+    "O glory of Italia, virgin bright!
+    What praise can match thee? how shall thanks be paid?
+    But now, since naught can daunt thee nor affright,
+    Share thou my labour, and divide the fight.
+    Yonder AEneas, so the news hath flown,
+    So spies report, hath sent his horsemen light
+    To scour the fields, while o'er the mountains' crown
+Himself through devious ways is marching to the town.
+
+LXVII. "Deep in a hollow, where the wood's dark shade
+    Two cross-ways hides, an ambush I prepare,
+    And armed men shall the double pass blockade.
+    Thou take the shock of battle, and o'erbear
+    The Tuscan horse. Messapus shall be there,
+    Tiburtus' band, and Latins in array
+    To aid, and thine shall be the leader's care."
+    He spake, and cheered Messapus to the fray,
+And Latium's federate chiefs, and spurred upon his way.
+
+LXVIII. There lies a winding valley, fit for snares
+    And stratagems, shut in on either hand
+    By wooded slopes. A narrow pathway fares
+    Along the gorge, and on the hill-tops, planned
+    For safety, flat but hidden spreads the land.
+    Rightward or leftward there is room to bear
+    The shock of arms, or on the ridge to stand,
+    And roll down rocks upon the foe. 'Twas there
+Young Turnus, screened by woods, lies crouching in his lair.
+
+LXIX. Meanwhile Latonia in the realms of air
+    Fleet Opis, sister of her sacred train,
+    Addressed in sorrowing accents, "Maiden fair,
+    See how Camilla to the fatal plain
+    Goes forth, in quest of battle. See, in vain
+    Our arms she wears, the quiver and the bow.
+    Dearest is she of all that own my reign,
+    Nor new-born is Diana's love, I trow;
+No fit of fondness this, or fancy known but now
+
+LXX. "When tyrant Metabus his people's hate
+    Drove from Privernum, for his deeds of shame.
+    His babe he bore, the partner of his fate,
+    Through war and battle, and, her mother's name
+    Casmilla changed, Camilla she became.
+    To lonely woods and hill-tops fain to fly,
+    Fierce swords and Volscians all around, he came
+    Where Amasenus, with its waves bank-high,
+Athwart him foamed; so vast a deluge rent the sky.
+
+LXXI. "Prepared to plunge, he pauses, sore assailed
+    By love, and terror for a charge so dear.
+    All means revolving, this at last prevailed.
+    Fire-dried and knotted, an enormous spear
+    Of seasoned oak the warrior chanced to bear.
+    To the mid shaft the tender babe he ties,
+    Swathed in the covering of a cork-tree near,
+    Then lifts the load, and, poising, ere it flies,
+The ponderous lance, looks up, and thus invokes the skies:
+
+LXXII. "'O Queen of woods, Latonia, virgin fair!
+    To thee my daughter I devote this day,
+    Thy handmaid. See, thus early through the air
+    She bears thy weapons. Make her thine, I pray,
+    And safely through the doubtful air convey.'
+    So prayed the sire, and nerved him for the throw,
+    Then aimed, and launched the missile on its way.
+    The babe forlorn, while roars the stream below,
+Link'd to the shaft, is borne across the current's flow.
+
+LXXIII. "In plunges Metabus, the foemen near,
+    And Trivia's gift, safe landing from the wave,
+    Plucks from the grass,--the maiden and the spear.
+    No town is his, to shelter and to save,
+    His savage mood no shelter deigns to crave.
+    A shepherd's life on lonely hills he leads,
+    In tangled covert, or in woodland cave.
+    The milk of beasts supplies his daughter's needs,
+And from the wild-mare's teats her tender lips he feeds.
+
+LXXIV. "And when the tottering infant first essayed
+    To plant her footsteps, to her hands he strung
+    A lance, and o'er the shoulders of the maid
+    The light-wing'd arrows and the bow he slung.
+    For golden coif and trailing mantle, hung
+    A tiger's spoils. Her tiny hand e'en then
+    Hurled childish darts; e'en then the tough hide, swung
+    Around her temples, as she roamed the plain,
+Brought down the snowy swan, or swift Strymonian crane.
+
+LXXV. "Full many a Tuscan mother far and near
+    Has wooed Camilla for her son in vain.
+    Contented with Diana year by year,
+    She loves her silvan weapon, free and fain
+    To live a maiden-huntress, pure of stain.
+    And O! had battle, and the toils of fight
+    Not lured her thus to combat on the plain,
+    And match her prowess with the Teucrians' might,
+Mine were the maiden still, my darling and delight.
+
+LXXVI. "Now, since well-nigh the fatal threads are spun,
+    Go, Nymph, to Latin frontiers wing thy way,
+    Where evil omens mark the fight begun.
+    Take, too, this quiver; who the maid shall slay,--
+    Trojan or Latin--with his blood shall pay
+    Myself the armour and the corpse will bear,
+    Wrapt in a cloud, and in her country lay."
+    She spake, and, girt with whirlwind, and the blare
+Of sounding arms, the Nymph glides down the yielding air.
+
+LXXVII. Meanwhile, the Trojans and the Tuscan train,
+    In marshalled squadrons, to the walls draw near,
+    Steeds neigh, and chafe, and prance upon the plain,
+    And lances bristling o'er the field appear.
+    Messapus, too, and Latium's hosts are here,
+    Coras, Catillus, and Camilla leads
+    Her troops to aid. All couch the levelled spear,
+    And whirl the dart. Hot waxes on the meads
+The tramp of hurrying hosts, the snorting of the steeds.
+
+LXXVIII. Each halts within a spear-cast of the foe,
+    Then, spurring, forward with a shout they dash,
+    And, darkening heaven, shower the darts like snow.
+    In front, Tyrrhenus and Aconteus rash
+    Cross spears, the first to grapple. With a crash,
+    Steed against steed, went ruining. Breast and head
+    Shocked and were shattered. Like the lightning's flash,
+    And loud as missile from an engine sped,
+Hurled far, Aconteus falls, and with a gasp lies dead.
+
+LXXIX. This breaks the line; the Latins turn and fly,
+    Their shields behind them. On the Trojans go,
+    Asilas first. And now the gates are nigh;
+    Once more, with shouts, the Latins face the foe;
+    These, scared in turn, the slackened reins forego.
+    So shifts the fight, as on the winding strand
+    The swelling ocean, with alternate flow,
+    Foams on the rocks, and curls along the sand,
+Now sucks the shingle back, and, ebbing, leaves the land.
+
+LXXX. Twice the fierce Tuscans, spurring o'er the fields,
+    Drive the Rutulians to their walls in flight.
+    Twice, driven backward, from behind their shields
+    The victors see the rallying foes unite.
+    But when the third time, in the fangs of fight,
+    Man singling man, both armies met to close,
+    Loud were the groans, and fearful was the sight,
+    Arms splashed with gore, steeds, riders, friends and foes,
+Blent in the deadly broil, and fierce the din uprose.
+
+LXXXI. Lo, here, Orsilochus, too faint with fear
+    To meet fierce Remulus, a distant dart
+    Hurls at his steed. Beneath the charger's ear
+    The shaft stands fixt; the beast, with sudden start,
+    His breast erect, and maddened by the smart,
+    Rears up, and flings his rider to the ground.
+    Here brave Iolas, from his friends apart,
+    Catillus slew; Herminius next he found,
+Large-hearted, large of limb, and eke in arms renowned.
+
+LXXXII. Bare is his head, with auburn locks aglow,
+    And bare his shoulders. Wounds to him are vain;
+    Tower-like he stands, defenceless to the foe.
+    Through his broad chest the javelin, urged amain,
+    Pierced him, and quivered, and he writhed with pain,
+    His giant form bent double. Far and nigh
+    The dark blood pours in torrents on the plain,
+    As, dealing havoc with the sword, they vie,
+And, courting wounds, rush on, a warrior's death to die.
+
+LXXXIII. There, quiver-girt, the Amazonian maid,
+    One bosom bare, amidst the carnage wheeled,
+    Camilla, glorying in the war's grim trade.
+    Her limber darts she scatters o'er the field,
+    Her arms untired the ponderous axe can wield.
+    Diana's arrows and the golden bow
+    Sound at her back. She too, if forced to yield,
+    Fights as she flies, and well the maid doth know
+With flying shafts hurled back to stay the following foe.
+
+LXXXIV. Around her, Tulla and Larinia stand,
+    Tarpeia too, with brazen axe bedight,
+    Italians all, the choicest of her band,
+    In peace or war her glory and delight.
+    So, battling round Hippolyte, unite
+    Her Thracians, when Thermodon's banks afar
+    Ring with their arms. So rides the maid of might,
+    Penthesilea, in her conquering car,
+And hosts, with moon-shaped shields, exulting hail the war.
+
+LXXXV. Whom first, dread maiden, did thy javelin quell?
+    Whom last? how many in the dust lay low?
+    Eunaeus first, the son of Clytius, fell.
+    Sheer through his breast, left naked to the blow,
+    Ploughed the long fir-shaft, as he faced his foe.
+    Prone falls the warrior, and in deadly stound
+    Gasps out his life-blood, and the crimson flow
+    Spouts forth in torrents, as he bites the ground,
+And, dying, grasps the spear, and writhes upon the wound.
+
+LXXXVI. Liris anon and Pagasus she slew,
+    One, flung to earth, and gathering up the rein,
+    His charger stabbed, the other, as he flew
+    To aid, and reached his helpless hands in vain,
+    Amastrus, son of Hippotas, was slain;
+    Harpalycus, Demophoon, as they fled,
+    The dread spear caught, and stretched upon the plain,
+    Tereus and Chromis. For each shaft that sped,
+Launched from her maiden hand, a Phrygian foe lay dead.
+
+LXXXVII. On Iapygian steed, in arms unknown,
+    Rode Ornytus, the huntsman. A rough hide,
+    Stript from a bullock, o'er his back was thrown.
+    A wolf's huge jaws, with glittering teeth, supplied
+    His helmet, and a rustic pike he plied.
+    Him, as he towered, the tallest in the fray,
+    Wheeling his steed, Camilla unespied
+    Caught--in the rout 'twas easy--and her prey
+Pinned, with unpitying spear, and jeered him as he lay.
+
+LXXXVIII. "Ha, Tuscan! thought'st thou 'twas the chase? Thy day
+    Hath come; a woman shall thy vaunts belie.
+    Yet take this glory to the grave, and say
+    'Twas I, the great Camilla, made thee die."
+    She spake, and smote Orsilochus close by,
+    And Butes, hugest of the Trojan crew.
+    First Butes falls; just where the neck doth lie,
+    'Twixt casque and corslet, naked to the view,
+And leftward droops the shield, the fatal barb goes through.
+
+LXXXIX. Chased by Orsilochus, afar she wheels
+    Her seeming flight, wide-circling to and fro,
+    Till, doubling in a narrower ring, she steals
+    Inside, and follows on the following foe.
+    Then, rising steep, while vainly in his woe
+    He pleads for pity, and entreats her grace,
+    She swings the battle-axe, and blow on blow
+    On head and riven helmet heaps apace,
+And the hot brains and blood are spattered o'er his face.
+
+XC. Next crossed her path, but stood aghast to see,
+    The son of Aunus, from the mountain-seat
+    Of Apennine. No mean Ligurian he,
+    While Fate was kind, and prospered his deceit.
+    Fearful of death, and hopeless to retreat,
+    He tries if cunning can avail his need,
+    And cries aloud, "Good sooth, a wondrous feat!
+    A woman trusts for glory to her steed.
+Come down; fight fair afoot, and take the braggart's meed!"
+
+XCI. Down leaps the maid in fury, and her steed
+    Hands to a comrade, and with arms matched fair,
+    And dauntless heart, confronts him on the mead,
+    Her shield unblazoned, and her falchion bare.
+    He, vainly glorying in his fancied snare,
+    Reins round in haste, and, spurring, strives to flee.
+    "Fool," cries Camilla, "let thy pride beware.
+    Think not to palm thy father's tricks on me,
+Nor hope with craft like this thy lying sire to see."
+
+XCII. So spake she, and on flying feet afire
+    Outruns his steed, and stands athwart the way,
+    Then grasps the reins, and deals the wretch his hire,
+    Doomed with his life-blood for his craft to pay.
+    So on a dove, amid the clouds astray,
+    Down swoops the sacred falcon through the sky
+    From some tall cliff, and fastens on his prey,
+    And grips, and rends, and sucks the life-blood dry;
+The feathers, foul with blood, come, fluttering down from high.
+
+XCIII. Nor Jove meanwhile with unregarding ken,
+    Throned on Olympus, doth the scene survey.
+    Watchful of all, the Sire of gods and men
+    Stirs up the Tuscan Tarchon to the fray,
+    And plies the war-goad with no gentle sway.
+    He through the squadrons on his steed aflame
+    Rides 'mid the carnage, where the ranks give way;
+    Now chides, now cheers, and calling each by name,
+Re-forms the broken lines, and reinspires the tame.
+
+XCIV. "Cowards, why faint ye, Tuscans but in name?
+    Fie! shall a woman scatter you in flight?
+    O, slack! O, never to be stung to shame!
+    What use of weapons, if ye fear to fight?
+    No laggards ye for amorous jousts at night,
+    Or Bacchic revels, when the fife ye hear.
+    The feast and wine-cup--these are your delight;
+    For these ye linger, till the approving seer
+Calls to the grove's deep shade, where bleeds the fattened steer."
+
+XCV. Then, spurring forth, himself prepared to die,
+    He dashed at Venulus, unhorsed his prize,
+    And bore him on his saddle-bow. A cry
+    Goes up, and all the Latins turn their eyes.
+    Swift with his prey the fiery Tarchon flies,
+    And, while the steel-head from his spear he rends,
+    Each chink and crevice in his armour tries,
+    To deal the death-blow. He, as fierce, contends,
+And, countering force with force, his naked throat defends.
+
+XCVI. As when a golden eagle, high in air,
+    Wreathed with a serpent, fastens, as she flies,
+    With feet that clutch, and taloned claws that tear.
+    Coil writhed in coil, the roughening scales uprise,
+    The crest points up, the hissing tongue defies.
+    She with sharp beak still rends the struggling prey,
+    And beats the air. So Tarchon with his prize
+    Through Tibur's host exulting speeds away.
+With cheers the Tuscans charge, and hail their chief's essay.
+
+XCVII. Now, due to fate, aloof with lifted lance,
+    The crafty Aruns round Camilla wheels,
+    And tries where fortune lends the readiest chance.
+    Oft as she charges, where the war-shout peals,
+    He slips unseen, and follows on her heels.
+    When back she runs, triumphant from the foe,
+    He shifts the rein, and from the conflict steals.
+    Now here, now there, he doubles to and fro,
+And shakes his felon spear, but hesitates to throw.
+
+XCVIII. Lo, Chloreus, priest of Cybele, aglow
+    In Phrygian armour, gorgeous to behold,
+    Urges his foaming charger at the foe,
+    All decked in feathered chain-work, linked with gold.
+    Cretan his shafts, his bow of Lycian mould.
+    Dark blue and foreign purple clothed his breast,
+    Golden his casque and bow; his mantle's fold
+    Of yellow saffron knots of gold compressed,
+And buskins bound his knees, and broidered was his vest.
+
+XCIX. Him the fierce huntress, whether fain the shrine
+    To deck with trophies, or with envious eyes
+    Wishful herself in Trojan arms to shine,
+    Marks in the strife; at him alone she flies,
+    Proud, like a woman, of her fancied prize.
+    Blindly she runs, uncautious of the snare,
+    When, darting from the ambush, where he lies,
+    The moment snatched, false Aruns shakes his spear,
+And thus, with measured aim, invokes the Gods with prayer.
+
+C.  "O Phoebus, guardian of Soracte's steep,
+    Whom first we honour, to whose sacred name,
+    Thy votaries, we, the blazing pine-wood heap,
+    And, firm in faith, pass through the smouldering flame,
+    Grant that our arms may wipe away this shame.
+    Trophies, nor spoils, nor plunder from the prey
+    Be mine; I look to other deeds for fame.
+    If wound of mine this hateful pest shall slay,
+Home will I gladly go, and fameless quit the fray."
+
+CI. Apollo heard, and granted half his prayer,
+    And half he scattered to the winds. To slay
+    With sudden stroke Camilla unaware
+    He gave, but gave not his returning day;
+    The breezes puffed the bootless wish away.
+    Shrill sang the lance; each Volscian eye and heart
+    Turned to the queen. The weapon on its way,--
+    The rush of air she heeds not, till the dart
+Strikes home, and, staying, draws the life-blood from her heart.
+
+CII. Up run her friends, the fainting queen to aid,
+    More scared than all, in fear and joy amain,
+    False Aruns flies, nor dares to face the maid,
+    Or trust the venture of his spear again.
+    As guilty wolf, some steer or shepherd slain,
+    Slinks to the hills, ere hostile darts pursue,
+    And clasps his tail between his thighs, full fain
+    To seek the woods, so Aruns shrank from view,
+Sore scared and glad to fly, and in the crowd withdrew.
+
+CIII. With dying hand she strives to pluck the spear:
+    Deep 'twixt the rib-bones in the wound it lies.
+    Bloodless she faints; her features, late so fair,
+    Fade, as the crimson from the pale cheeks flies,
+    And cold and misty wax the drooping eyes.
+    Then, with quick gasps, and groaning from her breast,
+    She calls to faithful Acca, ere she dies,--
+    Acca, her truest comrade and her best,
+The partner of her cares,--and breathes a last request.
+
+CIV. "Sister, 'tis past; the bitter shaft apace
+    Consumes me; all is growing dark. Go, tell
+    This news to Turnus; bid him take my place,
+    And keep these Trojans from the town. Farewell."
+    So saying, she dropped the bridle, as she fell.
+    Death's creeping chills the loosened limbs o'erspread.
+    Down dropped the weapons she had borne so well,
+    The neck drooped, slackened; and she bowed her head,
+And the disdainful soul went groaning to the dead.
+
+CV. Up rose a shout, Camilla fall'n, that beat
+    The golden stars, and fiercer waxed the fray.
+    On press the host, in serried ranks complete,
+    Trojans, Arcadians, Tuscans in array.
+    High on a hill, fair Opis watched the day,
+    Set there by Trivia, undisturbed till now,
+    When, lo, amid the tumult far away
+    She sees Camilla, in the dust laid low,
+Deep from her breast she sighs, and thus in words of woe:
+
+CVI. "Cruel, too cruel, is thy forfeit paid,
+    Poor maiden, who the Trojan arms would'st dare;
+    Nor aught availed thee, in the woodland glade
+    To serve Diana, and her arms to wear.
+    Yet not unhonoured in thy death, nor bare
+    Of fame she leaves thee; nor in after day
+    Shall vengeance fail thy prowess to declare.
+    Whoso hath dared thy sacred form to slay,
+His blood shall rue the deed, and fit atonement pay."
+
+CVII. Beneath the hill a barrow chanced to stand,
+    Heaped there of old, and holm-oaks frowned beside
+    Dercennus' tomb, who ruled Laurentum's land.
+    Here, lightning swift, the lovely Nymph espied,
+    In shining arms, and puffed with empty pride,
+    False Aruns. "Caitiff! dost thou think to flee?
+    Why keep aloof? Turn hitherward!" she cried,
+    "Come here, and die! Camilla claims her fee.
+Must Cynthia waste her shafts on worthless knaves like thee?"
+
+CVIII. Plucking the arrow from her case, she drew
+    The bow, full-stretched, till both the horns unite.
+    Both arms raised level, ere the missile flew,
+    Her left hand touched the iron point, the right,
+    Pressed to her nipple, strained the bow-string tight.
+    He hears the arrow whistle as it flies,
+    And feels the wound. Sweeping on amain, [word missing]
+    Forsakes him. Groaning, with a gasp, he dies.
+Upsoars the gladdening Nymph, and seeks the Olympian skies.
+
+CIX. First flies Camilla's troop, their mistress slain,
+    Then, routed, the Rutulian ranks give way,
+    And fierce Atinas gallops from the plain,
+    And scattered chiefs and squadrons in dismay
+    Spur towards the town for shelter from the fray.
+    None dares that murderous onset of the foe
+    To stem with javelins, nor their charge to stay.
+    Slack from their fainting shoulders hangs the bow,
+The clattering horse-hoofs shake the crumbling ground below.
+
+CX. Dark rolls the dust-cloud, to the town-walls driven,
+    And mothers on the watch-towers, pale with fear,
+    Smite on their breasts, and shriek aloud to heaven.
+    These, bursting in, their foemen in the rear
+    Crush in the crowd, and slaughter with the spear,
+    Slain in the gateway--miserably slain!--
+    Their walls in sight, their happy homes so near.
+    Those bar the gates, while comrades on the plain
+Stretch their imploring hands, and call to them in vain.
+
+CXI. Then piteous waxed the carnage by the gate,
+    Some storming, some defending. These without,
+    In sight of parents, weeping at their fate,
+    Roll down the moat, swept headlong by the rout,
+    Or charge the battered doorposts with a shout.
+    The very matrons, at their country's call,
+    Their javelins hurl. Charr'd stakes and oak-staves stout
+    Serve them for swords. Forth rush they, one and all,
+Fir'd by Camilla's deeds, to save the town or fall.
+
+CXII. Meanwhile to Turnus, in the woods afar,
+    Came Acca, and the bitter news made plain,
+    And told the chief the tumult of the war,--
+    The panic and the rout--the Volscian train
+    Swept from the battle, and Camilla slain.
+    The foemen, flushed with conquest, far and near
+    In hot pursuit, and sweeping on amain,
+    And all the city now aghast with fear:--
+Such was the dolorous tale that filled the warrior's ear.
+
+CXIII. Then, mad with fury, in revengeful mood
+    (For Jove is stern, and so the Fates ordain),
+    He quits his mountain-ambush and the wood.
+    Scarce, out of sight, had Turnus reached the plain,
+    When, issuing forth, AEneas hastes to gain
+    The pass, left open, climbs the neighbouring height,
+    And leaves the tangled forest. Thus the twain,
+    Each near to each,--the middle space is slight,--
+Townward their troops lead on, and hail the proffered fight.
+
+CXIV. At once AEneas on the dusty plain
+    Marks the Laurentine columns far away.
+    At once, in arms, fierce Turnus knows again
+    The dread AEneas, and he hears the neigh
+    Of steeds, and tramp of footmen in array.
+    Then each the fight had ventured, as they stood,
+    But rosy Phoebus, with declining day,
+    His steeds was bathing in the Iberian flood;
+So by the walls they camp, and make the ramparts good.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK TWELVE
+
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+Turnus realises that he must now redeem his promise to meet AEneas
+in single combat, and refuses to be dissuaded either by Latinus or
+by Amata (1-90). The challenge is sent, and the two make ready. Lists
+are prepared and spectators gather (91-153). Juno warns the Nymph
+Juturna to aid her brother Turnus (154-180). After the terms of
+combat have been ratified by oath and sacrifice, Juturna, in disguise,
+by an opportune omen induces one of the assembled Latins to break
+the truce and kill a Trojan (181-310). AEneas is wounded while
+endeavouring to restrain his men from reprisals, and the fray becomes
+general. Turnus deals death among the Trojans (311-441). AEneas is
+miraculously healed, and at first pursues only Turnus--who is
+carried off by Juturna (442-561), but presently gives rein to his
+anger and slays indiscriminately, until by Venus' advice he attacks
+the city. Amata kills herself, believing Turnus dead (562-702).
+Turnus' eyes are opened. Seeing the city outworks in flames, he
+returns and proclaims himself ready to meet AEneas, who, welcoming
+the challenge, rushes forward. All eyes are riveted on the two, when
+Turnus' sword breaks, and once more he flees, pursued by AEneas.
+Juturna gives Turnus another sword, and Venus restores to AEneas his
+spear (703-918). Follows a colloquy between Jupiter and
+Juno.--Turnus must die. AEneas shall marry Lavinia and be king. But
+the new nation must keep the ancient rites and names of Latium, and
+be called not Trojans but Latins. Juno yields, and Jupiter warns
+Juturna to leave the battle (919-1026). Turnus, being beside himself,
+after a last superhuman effort, is struck down. AEneas is about to
+spare his life, when he sees upon his shoulder the spoils of Pallas,
+and kills him (1027-1107).
+
+
+I.  When Turnus saw the Latins faint and fly,
+    Crushed by the War-God, and his pledge reclaimed,
+    Himself the mark of every scornful eye,
+    Rage unappeasable his pride inflamed.
+    As when a lion, in the breast sore maimed
+    In Punic fields, uprousing, shakes his mane,
+    And snaps the shaft that felon hands had aimed,
+    His mouth all bloody, as he roars with pain,
+So Turnus blazed with wrath, as thus in scornful strain
+
+II. He hailed the king: "Not Turnus stops the way;
+    No cause have these their challenge to forego,
+    Poor Trojan cowards; I accept the fray,
+    Sire, be the compact hallowed; be it so.
+    Or I, while Latins sit and see the show,
+    Will hurl to Hell this Dardan thief abhorred,
+    This Asian runaway, and on the foe
+    Refute the common slander with the sword,
+Or he, as victor, reign and be Lavinia's lord."
+
+III. Then, calm of soul, Latinus made reply,
+    "O gallant youth, the more thy heart is fain
+    In fierceness to excel, the more should I
+    Weigh well the risks and measure loss with gain.
+    To thee belong thy father Daunus' reign
+    And captured towns. Good will have I and gold,
+    And other maids our Latin homes contain,
+    Of noble birth and lovely to behold.
+Hear now, and let plain speech the thankless truth unfold.
+
+IV. "To none of former suitors was I free
+    To wed my daughter, so the voice ordained
+    Of gods and men consenting. Love for thee,
+    And sympathy for kindred blood hath gained
+    The mastery, and a weeping wife constrained.
+    I robbed the husband of the bride he wooed,
+    Took impious arms, and plighted faith disdained.
+    Ah me! what wars, what bitter fates ensued,
+Thou, Turnus, know'st too well, who first hast felt the feud.
+
+V.  "Scarce now, twice worsted in the desperate fray,
+    Our walls can guard what Latin hopes remain,
+    And, choked with Latin corpses, day by day,
+    Old Tiber's stream runs purple to the main,
+    And Latin bones are whitening all the plain.
+    Why shifts my frenzied purpose to and fro?
+    Why change and change? If, maugre Turnus slain,
+    I deign to welcome as a friend his foe,
+Why not, while Turnus lives, the needless strife forego?
+
+VI. "What will Rutulian kinsmen, what will all
+    Italia say, if (Chance the deed forefend!)
+    I leave thee, cheated of my care, to fall,
+    The daughter's lover, and the father's friend?
+    O, weigh the risks that on the war attend;
+    Pity the parent in his sad, old age,
+    Left at far Ardea to lament thine end."
+    Thus he; but naught fierce Turnus can assuage;
+The healing hand but chafes, and words augment his rage.
+
+VII. Then he, scarce gathering utterance, spake again,
+    "Good Sire, thy trouble for my sake forego;
+    Leave me the price of glory--to be slain.
+    I too can hurl, nor feeble is my blow,
+    The whistling shaft, that lays the foeman low,
+    And drinks his life-blood. Vain shall be his prayer.
+    No goddess mother shall be there, to throw
+    Her mist around him, with a woman's care,
+And screen her darling son with empty shades of air."
+
+VIII. The Queen, with death before her, filled with fears,
+    Wept sore and checked the fiery suitor's way.
+    "O Turnus! if thou heed'st me, by these tears;--
+    Hope of my age, Latinus' strength and stay,
+    Prop of our falling house! one boon I pray;
+    Forbear the fight. What fate awaiteth thee,
+    Awaits me too. If Trojans win the day,
+    With thee I'll leave the loathed light, nor see
+AEneas wed my child, a captive slave, as she."
+
+IX. With tears Lavinia heard her mother speak.
+    A crimson blush her glowing face o'erspread,
+    And hot fires kindled on her burning cheek.
+    As Indian ivory, when stained with red,
+    Or lilies, mixt with roses in a bed,
+    So flushed the maid, with varying thoughts distrest.
+    He, wild with love, upon Lavinia fed
+    His constant gaze, but maddening with unrest,
+Burned for the fight still more, and thus the Queen addressed:
+
+X.  "Vex me not, mother, marching to the fray,
+    With these thy tears and bodings of despair.
+    'Tis not in me the fatal hour to stay.
+    Thou, Idmon, to the Phrygian tyrant bear
+    The unwelcome word: to-morrow let him spare
+    To lead his Teucrians to the fight. Each side
+    Shall rest awhile; when morning shines in air,
+    His blood or mine the quarrel shall decide,
+And he or I shall win, whose prowess earns, the bride."
+
+XI. Thus speaking, to his home the chieftain hies
+    And bids his steeds be harnessed for the fight:
+    Soon for the pleasure of their master's eyes
+    They stand before him, neighing in their might.
+    In days of old from Orithyia bright
+    To King Pilumnus came those coursers twain,
+    Swifter than breezes and than snow more white;
+    His ready grooms attend, a nimble train,
+And clap the sounding breast and comb the abundant mane.
+
+XII. Himself the shining corselet, stiff with gold
+    And orichalcum, on his shoulders laid.
+    His sword and shield he fitted to his hold,
+    And donned the helm, with crimson plumes arrayed,
+    The sword the Fire-King for his sire had made,
+    And dipped still glowing in the Stygian flood,
+    Last, the strong spear-beam in his hand he swayed
+    (Against a pillar in the house it stood),
+Auruncan Actor's spoils, and shook the quivering wood,
+
+XIII. And shouted, "Now, O never known to fail
+    Thy master's call, my trusty spear, I trow
+    The hour is come. Once, mightiest under mail,
+    Did Actor wield thee; Turnus wields thee now.
+    Grant this strong hand to lay the foeman low,
+    This Phrygian eunuch of his arms to spoil,
+    And rend his shattered breastplate with a blow;
+    Dragged in the dust, his dainty curls to soil,
+Hot from the crisping tongs, and wet with myrrh and oil."
+
+XIV. Such furies urge him, and, ablaze with ire,
+    His hot face sparkles, and his eyes burn bright,
+    And from his eye-balls leaps the living fire;
+    As when a bull, in prelude for the fight,
+    Roars terribly, and fills the hinds with fright,
+    And, butting at a chance-met tree, would try
+    To vent his fury on his horns of might,
+    And with his fierce hoofs flings the sand on high,
+And gores the empty air, and challenges the sky.
+
+XV. Nor less, meanwhile, and terrible in arms,--
+    The arms that Venus to her son doth lend,--
+    AEneas rages, and the War-God warms.
+    Pleased with the challenge, singly to contend,
+    And bring the weary warfare to an end,
+    His friends he cheers, and calms Iulus' care,
+    Unfolding Fate, then heralds hastes to send,
+    His answer to the Latin King to bear:
+The challenge he accepts, the terms of peace are fair.
+
+XVI. Scarce Morning glimmered on the mountains grey,
+    And Phoebus' steeds, uprising from the main,
+    With lifted nostrils breathed approaching day.
+    Mixt with the Trojans, the Rutulian train,
+    Beneath the lofty town-walls on the plain
+    Mark out the lists, and mid-way in the ring,
+    Their braziers set, as common rites ordain.
+    These, apron-girt and crowned with vervain, bring
+Fire for the turf-piled hearths, and water from the spring.
+
+XVII. Forth, as to war, Ausonia's spear-armed host,
+    Trojans and Tuscans, to the field proceed,
+    And to and fro, in gold and purple, post
+    Asilas brave, Assaracus's seed,
+    Mnestheus, Messapus, tamer of the steed.
+    Back step both armies at the trumpet's call,
+    Their spears in earth, their shields upon the mead.
+    An unarmed crowd, old men and matrons, all
+Stand by the lofty gates, and throng the towers and wall.
+
+XVIII. But Juno, seated on a neighbouring height,
+    Now Alban called, then nameless and unknown,
+    Gazed from its summit on the field of fight,
+    And, musing, on the marshalled hosts looked down
+    Of Troy and Latium, and Latinus' town,
+    Then straight--a goddess to a goddess--spake
+    To Turnus' sister, who the sway doth own
+    Of sounding river and of stagnant lake,
+Raised by the King of air, as yielding for his sake.
+
+XIX. "Nymph, pride of rivers, darling of my love,
+    Thou know'st, Juturna, how to all whoe'er
+    Of Latin maidens climbed the couch of Jove,
+    I thee preferred, and gave his courts to share.
+    Learn now thy woe, lest I the blame should bear.
+    While Fate and Fortune smiled on Latium's sway,
+    Thy walls I saved, and Turnus was my care.
+    Now in ill hour I see him tempt the fray;
+Fate and the foe speed on the inevitable day.
+
+XX. "Not I this fight, this wager can behold.
+    Thou, if thou durst, thy brother's doom arrest.
+    Go; luck perchance may follow thee." Fast rolled
+    Juturna's tears, and thrice she smote her breast.
+    "No time to weep," said Juno, "speed thy quest,
+    And save thy brother, if thou canst, ere dead,
+    Or wake the war, and rend the league unblest;
+    'Tis I who bid thee to be bold." She said,
+And left her, tost with doubt, and full of wildering dread.
+
+XXI. Forth come the Kings; Latinus, proudly borne
+    High in his four-horse chariot, shines afar.
+    Twelve gilded rays the monarch's brows adorn,
+    His Sire's, the Sun-God's. Wielding as for war
+    Two spears, comes Turnus in his two-horse car.
+    There, Rome's great founder, doth AEneas ride,
+    With dazzling shield, bright-shining as a star,
+    And arms divine, and at his father's side
+Ascanius takes his place, Rome's second hope and pride.
+
+XXII. And clad in robes of purest white, the priest
+    Leads forth the youngling of a bristly swine,
+    And two-year sheep, by shearer's hands unfleec'd.
+    And they, with eyes turned to the dawn divine,
+    Bared the bright steel, the victim's brow to sign,
+    And strewed the cakes of salted meal, and poured
+    On blazing altars bowls of sacred wine;
+    And good AEneas drew his glittering sword,
+And thus, with pious prayer, the immortal gods adored:
+
+XXIII. "Witness, O Sun, thou Earth attest my prayer,
+    For whom I toil. Thou, Jove, supreme in sway,
+    And thou, great Juno, pleased at length to spare.
+    O mighty Mars, whose nod directs the fray;
+    Springs, Streams, and Powers whom Air and Sea obey.
+    If Turnus win--O let the vow remain--
+    Humbly to King Evander, as they may,
+    Troy's sons shall fly, Iulus quit the reign,
+Nor seed of mine e'er vex the Latin field again.
+
+XXIV. "But else, if victory smile upon my sword
+    (As rather deem I, and may Heaven decree),
+    I wish not Troy to be Italia's lord,
+    Nor claim the crown; let each, unquelled and free,
+    In deathless league on equal terms agree.
+    Arms, empire let Latinus keep; I claim
+    To bring our rites and deities. For me
+    My Teucrian friends another town shall frame,
+And bless the rising towers with fair Lavinia's name."
+
+XXV. Thus first AEneas; then with uplift eyes,
+    His right hand stretching to the stars in prayer,
+    "Hear me, AEneas," old Latinus cries,
+    "By the same Earth, and Sea and Stars I swear,
+    By the twin offering of Latona fair,
+    And two-faced Janus, and Hell's powers malign,
+    And Dis unpitying; let Jove give ear,
+    The Sire whose bolt the solemn league doth sign,
+Witness these fires and gods,--my hand is on the shrine,--
+
+XXVI. "No time with Latins shall this league unbind,
+    Whate'er the issue, or the peace confound,
+    No force shall shake the purpose of my mind.
+    Nay--though the circling Ocean burst its bound,
+    And all the Earth were in a deluge drowned,
+    And Heaven with Hell should mingle. Sure as now
+    This sceptre" (haply in his hand was found
+    The Royal sceptre) "nevermore, I trow,
+Shall bourgeon with fresh leaves, or spread a shadowing bough,
+
+XXVII. "Since once in forests, from its parent tree
+    Lopped clean away, the woodman stripped it bare
+    Of boughs and leaves, now fashioned, as ye see,
+    And cased in brass by cunning craftsman's care,
+    For fathers of the Latin realm to bear."
+    So they, amid their chiefest, Sire with Sire,
+    Confirm the league. These o'er the flames prepare
+    To slay the victims, and, as rites require,
+The living entrails tear, and feed the sacred fire.
+
+XXVIII. Long while unequal to Rutulian eyes
+    The combat seemed, and trouble tossed them sore,
+    Now more, beholding nearer, how in size
+    And strength the champions differed, yea, and more,
+    Beholding Turnus, as he moved before
+    The altars, sad and silently, and seeks
+    With downcast eyes Heaven's favour to implore,
+    The wanness of his youthful frame, that speaks
+Of health and hope now fled, the pallor of his cheeks.
+
+XXIX. Soon as Juturna saw the whispers grow
+    From tongue to tongue, and marked the changing tone,
+    The hearts of people wavering to and fro,
+    Amidst them,--now in form of Camers known,
+    Great Camers, sprung from grandsires of renown,
+    His father famed for many a brave emprise,
+    Himself as famed for exploits of his own,--
+    Amidst them, mistress of her part, she flies,
+And scatters words of doubt, and many a dark surmise.
+
+XXX. "Shame, will ye risk, Rutulians, for his host
+    The life of one? In number, strength and show
+    Do we not match them? _Those_ are all they boast,
+    Trojans, Arcadians and Etruscans. Lo,
+    Fight we by turns, each scarce can find a foe.
+    He to his gods, whose shrines he dies to shield,
+    Will rise, and praised will be his name below.
+    We, reft of home, to tyrant lords shall yield,
+And toil as slaves, who sit so slackly on the field."
+
+XXXI. So saying, Juturna to the youths imparts
+    Fresh rage, and murmurs through the concourse run,
+    And changed are Latin and Laurentian hearts,
+    And they, who lately sought the strife to shun,
+    And longed for rest, now wish the league undone,
+    And, pitying Turnus, wrongly doomed to die,
+    Call out for arms. And now, her work begun,
+    Juturna shows a lying sign on high,
+That shakes Italian hearts, and cheats the wondering eye.
+
+XXXII. Jove's golden eagle through the crimson skies
+    In chase of clanging marsh-fowl, swooped in flight
+    Down on a swan, and trussed the noble prize.
+    The Latins gaze, when lo, a wondrous sight!
+    Back wheels the flock, and all with screams unite,
+    And darkening, as a cloud, in dense array
+    Press on the foe, till, overborne by might,
+    And yielding to sheer weight, he drops the prey
+Into the stream below, and cloudward soars away.
+
+XXXIII. With shouts the glad Rutulians hail the sign,
+    And lift their hands. Then spake the seer straightway,
+    Tolumnius: "Welcome, welcome, powers divine!
+    'Twas this--'twas this I longed for, day by day.
+    To arms! 'Tis I, Tolumnius, lead the way.
+    Poor souls! whom yon strange pirate would enslave,
+    Like feeble birds, and make your coast a prey.
+    He too shall fly, and vanish o'er the wave.
+Stand close and fight as one, your captive king to save."
+
+XXXIV. He spake and hurled his javelin at the foes,
+    Advancing. Shrill the cornel hissed, and flew
+    True to its quarry. Then a shout uprose,
+    And the ranks wavered, and hearts throbbed anew
+    With ardour, as the gathering tumult grew.
+    On went the missile to where, side by side,
+    Nine brethren stood, of comely form, whom, true
+    To her Gylippus, bare a Tuscan bride,
+Nine tall Arcadian sons, in bloom of youthful pride.
+
+XXXV. One, where the belt chafes, and the strong clasp bites
+    The broidered edges,--comeliest of the band,
+    And sheathed in shining mail--the steel-head smites,
+    And rives the ribs, and rolls him on the sand.
+    Blind with hot rage, his brethren, sword in hand,
+    Or snatching missiles, to avenge the slain,
+    Rush to the charge. Laurentum's ranks withstand
+    Their onset, and a deluge sweeps the plain,
+Trojans, Agylla's bands, Arcadia's glittering train.
+
+XXXVI. One passion burns,--to let the sword decide.
+    Stript stand the altars, and the shrines are bare;
+    Dark drives the storm of javelins far and wide,
+    The iron tempest hurtles in the air,
+    And bowls and censers from the hearths they tear.
+    Himself Latinus, flying, bears afar
+    His home-gods, outraged by the league's misfare.
+    Some leap to horse, and others yoke the car,
+Or bare the glittering sword, and hurry to the war.
+
+XXXVII. Aulestes first, a king with kingly crown,
+    Messapus scares, and, spurring forward, fain
+    To break the treaty, rides the Tuscan down.
+    He, bating ground, falls back, and hurled amain
+    Against the altars, pitches on the plain.
+    Up comes Messapus, with his beam-like spear,
+    And smites him, pleading sorely but in vain,
+    Steep-rising heavily smites him, with a jeer,
+"He hath it; Heaven hath gained a better victim here."
+
+XXXVIII. Up Latins rush, and strip the limbs yet warm,
+    A brand half-burnt fierce Corynoeus there
+    Flings full at Ebusus, as with lifted arm
+    He nears him, and the long beard, all aflare,
+    Shines crackling, with a smell of burning hair.
+    He with his left hand, following up the throw,
+    Grasps the long locks, and, planting firm and fair
+    His knee, beneath him pins the prostrate foe,
+And drives the stark sword home, so deadly is the blow.
+
+XXXIX. Then, fired with fury, Podalirius flew
+    At shepherd Alsus, as he rushed among
+    The foremost. With his naked sword he drew
+    Behind him close, and o'er his foeman hung.
+    He turning round his broad axe backward swung,
+    And clave the chin and forehead. Left and right
+    The dark blood o'er the spattered arms outsprung.
+    Hard rest and iron slumber seal his sight,
+The drooping eyelids close on everlasting night.
+
+XL. Unarmed, AEneas, with uncovered brow,
+    Stretched out his hands, and shouted to his train:
+    "Where rush ye, men? what sudden discord now
+    Is this? Be calm; your idle wrath refrain.
+    The truce is struck; the treaty's terms are plain.
+    To me belongs the battle, not to you.
+    Give way to me, nor fret and fume in vain.
+    This hand shall make the treaty firm and true.
+These rites, this solemn pact give Turnus for my due."
+
+XLI. So spake he, fain the tumult to allay,
+    And scarce had ceased, when, whistling as it flew,
+    A feathered shaft came hurtling on its way,
+    And smote the good AEneas; whose, and who
+    That shaft had sped, what wind had borne it true,
+    What chance with fame Ausonia's host had crowned,
+    What God, perhaps, had aided them--none knew.
+    The glory of that noble deed was drowned,
+And none was found to boast of great AEneas' wound.
+
+XLII. When Turnus saw the Trojan prince retire,
+    The chiefs bewildered, and their hearts unstrung,
+    Hope unexpected set his soul on fire,
+    And, calling for his steeds and arms, he sprung
+    Upon his chariot, and the reins outflung.
+    On drives he; many a hero of renown
+    Sinks, crushed to death; the dying roll among
+    The dead; whole ranks beneath his wheels go down,
+And fast at flying hosts the fliers' spears are thrown.
+
+XLIII. As when grim Mars, by Hebrus' icy flood,
+    Clashing his brazen buckler, drives apace
+    His fierce steeds, maddening with the lust of blood;
+    They o'er the plain the flying winds outrace,
+    And with their trampling groan the fields of Thrace;
+    And round the War-God his attendants throng,
+    Hatred, and Treachery and Fear's dark face;
+    So Turnus drove the battling ranks among,
+And lashed his smoking steeds, and waved the whistling thong.
+
+XLIV. In piteous sort he tramples on the slain;
+    The flying horse-hoofs spirt the crimson dew,
+    And tread the gore down in the sandy plain.
+    Now, man to man, at Thamyris he flew,
+    And Pholus. Sthenelus aloof he slew;
+    Aloof the two Imbracidae lay dead,
+    Glaucus and Lades, of the Lycian crew,
+    Both armed alike, whom Imbracus had bred
+To fight, or on swift steeds the flying winds to head.
+
+XLV. Elsewhere afield, amid the foremost, fought
+    The brave Eumedes. (From the loins he came
+    Of noble Dolon, and to war he brought
+    The borrowed lustre of his grandsire's name,
+    The strength and spirit of his sire of fame,
+    Who for his meed, when offering to explore
+    The Danaan camp, Pelides' car would claim.
+    Poor fool! Tydides paid the boaster's score,
+And for Achilles' steeds he hankers now no more.)
+
+XLVI. Him Turnus sees, and through the void afar
+    Speeds a light lance, then bids the coursers stand,
+    And, lightly leaping from his two-horsed car,
+    Stamps on his neck, fall'n breathless on the sand,
+    And wrests the shining dagger from his hand.
+    Deep in his throat he deals a deadly wound,
+    And cries, "Now, Trojan, take the wished-for land.
+    Lie there, and measure the Hesperian ground;
+Their meed, who tempt my sword; thus city-walls they found."
+
+XLVII. Asbutes, Sybaris and Chloreus bleed,
+    Dares the bold, Orsilochus the brave,
+    Thymoetes, pitched from off his plunging steed.
+    As on the AEgean when the North-winds rave,
+    And the fierce gale rolls shoreward wave on wave,
+    And drives the cloud-rack through the sky; so these
+    Shrank back from Turnus, as his path he clave,
+    Urged by his impulse, and each turns and flees;
+Loose streams his horsehair crest, blown backward by the breeze.
+
+XLVIII. His fiery onset, and his shouts of pride
+    Bold Phlegeus brooked not, but himself he flung
+    Before the car, and caught and turned aside
+    The foaming steeds. But while, thus dragged along,
+    Grasping the bridle, on the yoke he hung,
+    His shieldless side the broad-tipt javelin found,
+    And pierced, and, staying, to the corslet clung,
+    With linen folds and brazen links twice bound.
+And lightly scored the skin, and grazed him with the wound.
+
+XLIX. His shield before him, at the foe he made,
+    And drew his short sword, turning sharply round,
+    And trusted to the naked steel for aid,
+    When wheel and axle, urged with onward bound,
+    Struck down and dashed him headlong to the ground,
+    And Turnus, reaching forward, sword in hand,
+    Room 'twixt the hauberk and the helmet found
+    And lopped the head with his avenging brand,
+And left the bleeding trunk to welter on the sand.
+
+L.  While Turnus thus dealt havoc as he flew,
+    Back with AEneas from the combat went
+    Ascanius, Mnestheus, and Achates true,
+    And helped the bleeding hero to his tent.
+    Faltering and pale, as on the spear he leant,
+    Fretting, and tugging at the shaft in vain,
+    Quick help he summons,--with the broadsword's rent
+    The wound to widen, and the lurking bane
+Cut out, and send him back to battle on the plain.
+
+LI. Iapis, son of Iasus, was there,
+    The best-beloved of Phoebus. Long ago
+    Apollo, fired to see a youth so fair,
+    His arts and gifts had offered to bestow,
+    His augury, his lyre, his sounding bow.
+    But he, in hope a bed-rid parent's days
+    To lengthen, sought the leech's craft to know,
+    The power of simples, and the silent praise
+Of healing arts, and scorned the great Apollo's bays.
+
+LII. Dark-frowning stands, still propt upon his spear,
+    AEneas, heedless of his friends around
+    And young Iulus, weeping in his fear.
+    Tight-girt like Paeon, with the robes upbound,
+    Beside him kneels the aged leech renowned.
+    With busy haste Apollo's salves he tries,
+    In vain, in vain he coaxes in the wound
+    The stubborn steel, the pincer's teeth he plies:
+Fate bides averse, his help the healing god denies;
+
+LIII. And more and more, along the echoing wold,
+    The war's wild horror thickens on the ear,
+    And storm-like, in the darkened skies uprolled,
+    The driving dust-clouds show the danger near.
+    Now horsemen, galloping in haste, appear,
+    And darts and arrows, as the foe draw nigh,
+    Fall in the tents, and fill the camp with fear,
+    And a grim clamour mounts the vaulted sky,
+The shouts of those that fight, the groans of those that die.
+
+LIV. Then, Venus, for her darling filled with grief,
+    A stalk of dittany on Ida's crown
+    Seeks out, and gathers, for his wound's relief,
+    The flower of purple and the leaves of down.
+    (To wounded wild-goats 'twas a plant well-known)
+    This brings the Goddess, veiled in mist, and brews
+    In a bright bowl a mixture of her own,
+    And, steeped in water from the stream, she strews
+Soft balm of fragrant scent, and sweet ambrosial dews.
+
+LV. Therewith the leech, unwitting, rinsed the wound,
+    And the pain fled, and all the blood was stayed.
+    Out came the dart, and he again was sound.
+    "Arms! bring his arms! Why stand ye thus afraid?"
+    Iapis cries, and, foremost to upbraid,
+    Inflames them to the fight. "No hand of mine,
+    No power of leech-craft, nor a mortal's aid
+    This healing wrought; a greater power divine,
+AEneas, sends thee back, by greater deeds to shine."
+
+LVI. He, hot for fight, the golden cuishes bound,
+    And shook the spear, then put his corslet on,
+    And strung the shield, and in his arms enwound,
+    And gently through the helmet kissed his son.
+    "Learn, boy, of me, how gallant deeds are done,
+    Fortune of others. I will guard thee now,
+    And lead to fame. Let riper manhood con
+    Thy kinsmen's deeds. Remember, and be thou
+What uncle Hector was, and what thy sire is now."
+
+LVII. He spake, and swinging his tremendous spear,
+    Swept through the gate; then Antheus, with his train,
+    Rushed forth, and Mnestheus. With a general cheer
+    Forth pours the host; a dust-cloud hides the plain;
+    Earth, startled by their trampling, throbs in pain.
+    Pale Turnus saw them from a distant height,
+    The Ausonians saw, and terror chilled each vein.
+    Juturna heard, and knew the noise of fight,
+And from the van drew back, and shuddered with affright.
+
+LVIII. On swept he, and the blackening host behind.
+    As when from sea a storm-cloud sweeps to shore,
+    The weather breaking, and the trembling hind
+    Foresees afar the ruin and the roar,
+    The shattered orchards, and the crops no more,
+    While, landward borne, the muttering winds betray
+    The coming storm; so down the Trojan bore
+    Against the foemen, and in firm array
+All knit their serried ranks, and gladden at the fray.
+
+LIX. Thymbraeus smites Osiris, Mnestheus fells
+    Archetius; by Achates smitten sheer,
+    Falls Epulo, and Gyas Ufens quells.
+    Falls, too, Tolumnius, the sacred seer,
+    Who first against the foemen hurled his spear.
+    Uprose a shout, and the Rutulians reeled
+    And fled. AEneas, on the dusty rear
+    Close-trampling, scorns to follow them afield,
+Or fight with those that stand, or slaughter those that yield.
+
+LX. Turnus alone, amid the blinding gloom,
+    He tracks and traces, searching far and near,
+    Turnus alone he summons to his doom.
+    Juturna sees, and smit with sudden fear,
+    Unseats Metiscus, Turnus' charioteer,
+    And flings him down, and leaves him on the plain,
+    Then takes his place, and, urging their career,
+    Loose o'er the coursers shakes the waving rein;
+Metiscus' voice and form, Metiscus' arms remain.
+
+LXI. Like a black swallow, as she flies among
+    A rich man's halls, or in the courts is found
+    In quest of dainties for her twittering young.
+    And now in empty cloisters, now around
+    The fishpools circles, while the shrill notes sound.
+    So now Juturna, through the midmost foes,
+    Whirled in the rapid chariot, scours the ground;
+    Now here, now there triumphant Turnus shows,
+Now, flying, wheels aloof, nor suffers him to close.
+
+LXII. So wheels in turn AEneas to and fro,
+    And tracks his man, and through the war's wild tide
+    Calls him aloud. Oft as he marks his foe,
+    And, running, tries to match the coursers' stride,
+    So oft Juturna wheels the team aside.
+    What shall he do? While wavering thus in vain,
+    As diverse thoughts his doubtful mind divide,
+    A steel-tipt dart Messapus--one of twain--
+Aims true, and hurls it forth, uprunning on the plain.
+
+LXIII. AEneas paused, behind his buckler bent.
+    On came the javelin, and the cone was shorn
+    From off his helmet, and the plume was rent.
+    Foiled by this treachery, as he marked with scorn
+    The steeds and chariot from the combat borne,
+    He blazed with ire, and, calling on again
+    Jove and the altars of the truce forsworn,
+    Rushed on, thrice terrible, and o'er the plain
+Dealt indiscriminate death, and gave his wrath the rein.
+
+LXIV. What heavenly muse can sing, what god can say
+    The scenes of horror wrought on either side,
+    The varied slaughter of that fatal day,
+    What chiefs were chased along the field, and died,
+    As Turnus now, and now the Trojan plied
+    His murderous sword? Jove, could'st thou deem it right
+    So dire a broil such peoples should divide,
+    Two jarring nations met in deadly fight,
+Whom leagues of lasting love were destined to unite?
+
+LXV. AEneas first (that fight 'twas first that stayed
+    The Teucrian rout) caught Suero on the side.
+    Where death is quickest, 'twixt the ribs his blade,
+    Deep in the framework of the breast, he plied.
+    Then Turnus slew Diores; close beside,
+    His brother Amycus from his steed he tore;
+    One by the spear, one by the sword-cut died.
+    Their severed heads the ruthless victor bore,
+Fixt to his flying car, and dripping with the gore.
+
+LXVI. Talus, and Tanais, and Cethegus there
+    AEneas smote, and poor Onytes slew,
+    Whom Peridia to Echion bare.
+    Turnus two Lycian brethren next o'erthrew
+    From Phoebus' fields, and young Menoetes too
+    From Arcady, who loathed the war in vain.
+    Poor was his home, nor rich men's doors he knew.
+    By fishful Lerna he had earned his gain,
+Hired was the scanty glebe his father sowed with grain.
+
+LXVII. Lo, as fierce flames drive in from left and right
+    Through woodlands parched and groves of crackling bay,
+    As sweep impetuous from a mountain height
+    Loud, foaming torrents, that withouten stay
+    Cleave to the sea their devastating way:
+    So, while in each full tides of anger flow,
+    Rush Turnus and AEneas to the fray:
+    Their tameless breasts with bursting valour glow,
+On, on they speed amain, nor fear the opposing blow.
+
+LXVIII. There stands Murranus, vaunting in vain joy
+    His sires, and grandsires, he the princely son
+    Of Latin monarchs. Him the chief of Troy
+    Smites with the whirlwind of a monstrous stone,
+    Huge as a rock. Down from his chariot thrown,
+    'Twixt reins and yoke, he tumbles on the sward.
+    The fierce wheels, thundering onward, beat him down;
+    His starting steeds, to shun the victor's sword,
+Tread on his trampled limbs, unmindful of their lord.
+
+LXIX. Here, fronting Hyllus, as he rushed amain,
+    Fierce Turnus stood; his levelled spear-head clave
+    The golden casque, and quivered in his brain.
+    Nor thee, poor Creteus, though of Greeks most brave,
+    From Turnus had thy prowess power to save.
+    Nor aught availed Cupencus' gods to aid
+    Against the dread AEneas, as he drave.
+    Squaring his breast, he met the glittering blade,
+Nor long his brazen shield the mortal stroke delayed.
+
+LXX. Thee, too, great AEolus, Laurentum's plain
+    Saw trampled down by Turnus, as he flew,
+    And stretched at length among the Trojan slain.
+    Thou diest, whom ne'er could Argive bands subdue,
+    Nor Peleus' son, who Priam's realm o'erthrew.
+    Thy goal is here; beyond the distant wave,
+    Beneath the mount where Ida's fir-trees grew,
+    High house was thine; high house Lyrnessus gave,
+Thy home; Laurentum's soil hath given thee a grave.
+
+LXXI. So met the ranks, and mingled, man with man,
+    Latins and Dardans in promiscuous throng,
+    Mnestheus and fierce Serestus in the van,
+    Messapus, tamer of the steed, and strong
+    Asylas. There in tumult swept along
+    Arcadian horsemen, and the Tuscan train.
+    No rest is theirs, no respite; loud and long
+    The conflict rages, as with might and main,
+Each for his own dear life, the warriors strive and strain.
+
+LXXII. Now lovely Venus doth her son persuade
+    To seek the walls, and townward turn his train,
+    And deal swift havoc on the foe dismayed.
+    While here and there AEneas scans the plain,
+    Still tracking Turnus through the ranks in vain,
+    Far off the peaceful city he espies,
+    Unscathed, unstirred, and in his restless brain
+    The vision of a greater war doth rise;
+Larger the War-God looms, and to his chiefs he cries.
+
+LXXIII. Mnestheus, Sergestus and Serestus strong
+    He calls, and on a hillock takes his stand.
+    There, mustering round him, all the Teucrians throng,
+    Each armed with buckler, and his spear in hand,
+    And from the mound he thus exhorts the band:
+    "Hear, sons of Teucer, and let none be slack.
+    Jove fights for us, so hearken my command.
+    Though strange the venture, sudden the attack,
+Let none for that cause faint, none loiter and hang back.
+
+LXXIV. "This town--unless they yield them and obey--
+    This town, the centre of Latinus' reign,
+    The cause of war, will I uproot this day,
+    And raze her smoking roof-tops to the plain.
+    What! shall I wait, and wait, till Turnus deign
+    To take fresh heart, and tempt the war's rough game,
+    And, conquered, face his conqueror again?
+    See there the fount of all this blood! For shame;
+Bring quick the torch; let fire the perjured pact reclaim!"
+
+LXXV. So spake he, and one purpose nerves them all.
+    They form a wedge, and forward with a cheer
+    The close-knit column charges at the wall.
+    Here scaling ladders in a trice they rear,
+    And firebrands suddenly and flames appear.
+    These seek the gates, and lay the foremost dead;
+    Those flash the sword, or shake the shining spear.
+    Darts cloud the skies. AEneas, at their head,
+Stands by the lofty walls, and with his hands outspread,
+
+LXXVI. Upbraids aloud Latinus, twice untrue,
+    And bids heaven witness and his wrongs regard,
+    Thus forced reluctant to the fight anew;
+    How loth again with Latin foes he warred,
+    How twice the truce the Latin crimes had marred.
+    Upsprings wild discord in the town; some call
+    To cede the city, and have the gates unbarred,
+    And drag the aged monarch to the wall;
+Some rush to arms, and strive their entrance to forestall.
+
+LXXVII. As when within a crannied rock some hind,
+    Returning home, a swarm of bees hath found,
+    And all the nest with bitter smoke doth blind:
+    They, in their waxen citadel fast bound,
+    Post to and fro, the narrow cells around,
+    And whet their stings in fury and despair:
+    With stifled hum the caverned crags resound,
+    The black fumes search the windings of their lair,
+And the dark smoke rolls up, and mingles with the air.
+
+LXXVIII. A new mischance now smote with further woe
+    The Latin town, and fainting hearts dismayed.
+    As queen Amata sees the coming foe,
+    The ramparts stormed, their flames the roofs invade,
+    And nowhere Turnus nor his troops to aid,
+    Him dead she deems, herself the cause declares,
+    Herself alone she spares not to upbraid.
+    She wails,--she raves,--her purple robe she tears,
+And from a lofty beam the hideous noose prepares.
+
+LXXIX. The women heard; Lavinia first of all,
+    Her golden locks, her rosy cheeks doth tear.
+    All rave around, and wailings fill the hall.
+    Fast flies the news, and shakes the town with fear.
+    Then rends his robes Latinus in despair,
+    His town in ruins and his consort dead,
+    And, scattering dust upon his hoary hair,
+    Himself he blames, that ne'er in Turnus' stead
+The Dardan prince he chose, his dear-lov'd child to wed.
+
+LXXX. Meanwhile, in chase of distant stragglers, speeds
+    Fierce Turnus. Slacker is his car's career,
+    And less he glories in his conquering steeds,
+    When lo, the breezes from Laurentum bear
+    The sound of shouting, and the shrieks of fear,
+    And a dull murmur, as of men that groan,--
+    The city's roar--strikes on his listening ear.
+    "Ah me! what clamour on the winds is blown?
+What noise of grief," he cries, "comes rolling from the town?"
+
+LXXXI. He spake, and madly pulled the rein. Then she,
+    His sister, like Metiscus changed in view,
+    Who ruled the chariot, "Forward, Turnus! See
+    The path that victory points thee to pursue.
+    This way--this way to chase the Trojan crew!
+    Others there are, who can the walls defend,
+    See here AEneas, how he storms. We, too,
+    Our foes, Troy's varlets, to their graves can send,
+Nor thee less tale of slain, nor scantier praise attend."
+
+LXXXII. Then quickly answered Turnus, glancing round,
+    "Sister, long since I knew thee--knew thee plain,
+    When first thy cunning did the league confound,
+    And sent thee forth, fierce battle to darrain;
+    And now thou think'st to cheat me, but in vain,
+    Albeit a goddess. But what power on high
+    Hath willed thee, sent from the Olympian reign,
+    Such toils to suffer, and such tasks to try?
+Cam'st thou, forsooth, to see thy wretched brother die?
+
+LXXXIII. "What can I do? What pledge of safety more
+    Doth Fortune give? what better hopes remain?
+    Myself beheld, these very eyes before,
+    Murranus die, the dearest of our train,
+    Stretched by a huge wound hugely on the plain.
+    I saw, how, backward as his comrades reeled,
+    Poor Ufens, sooner than behold such stain,
+    Sank low in death; himself, his sword and shield
+The Teucrian victors hold, their trophies of the field.
+
+LXXXIV. "What, shall I see our houses wrapt in flame,--
+    Last wrong of all--and coward-like, stand by,
+    Nor make this arm put Drances' taunts to shame?
+    Shall Turnus run, and Latins see him fly?
+    And is it then so terrible to die?
+    Be kind, dread spirits of the world below!
+    To you, since envious are the powers on high,
+    Worthy my ancestors of long ago,
+Free from the coward's blame, a sacred shade I go."
+
+LXXXV. Scarce spake he; through the midmost foes apace
+    Comes Saces, borne upon his foaming steed,
+    A flying shaft had scored him in the face.
+    "Turnus," he cries, "sole champion in our need,
+    Help us, have pity on thy friends who bleed.
+    See there, AEneas threatens in his ire
+    To raze our towers, and with a storm-cloud's speed
+    Thunders in arms, and roofward flies the fire,
+To thee the Latins turn, thee Latin hopes require.
+
+LXXXVI. "Himself, the king, is wavering, whom to call
+    His new allies, and whom his kingdom's heir.
+    Dead is the queen, thy faithfullest of all,
+    Self-plunged from light, in terror and despair.
+    Scarce fierce Atinas and Messapus there,
+    Beside the town-gates standing, hold their own.
+    Dense hosts surround them, and with falchions bare,
+    War's harvest bristles, by the walls upgrown;
+Thou on the empty sward art charioting alone."
+
+LXXXVII. Stunned and bewildered by the changeful scene
+    Stood Turnus, gazing speechless and oppressed.
+    Shame, rage, and sorrow, and revengeful spleen,
+    And frenzied love, and conscious worth confessed
+    Boil from the depths of his tumultuous breast.
+    Now, when the shadows from his mind withdrew,
+    And light, returning, to his thoughts gave rest,
+    Back from his chariot towards the walls he threw
+His eyes, aflame with wrath, and grasped the town in view.
+
+LXXXVIII. From floor to floor, behold, a tower upblazed,--
+    The tower, with bridge above and wheels below,
+    Himself with beams and mortised planks had raised.
+    "Sister," he cries, "Fate conquers; let us go
+    The way which Heaven and cruel fortune show.
+    I stand to meet AEneas in the fray,
+    And die; if death be bitter, be it so.
+    No more dishonoured shalt thou see me, nay,
+O sister, let me vent this fury, while I may."
+
+LXXXIX. He spake, and quickly vaulting from his car,
+    Through foes, through darts, his sister left to mourn,
+    Rushed headlong forth, and broke the ranks of war.
+    As when a boulder, from a hill-top borne,
+    Which rains have washed, or blustering winds have torn,
+    Or creeping years have loosened, down the steep,
+    From crag to crag, leaps headlong, and in scorn
+    Goes bounding on, and with resistless sweep
+Lays waste the woods, and whelms the shepherd and his sheep;
+
+XC. So Turnus through the broken ranks doth fly
+    On to the town-walls, where the crimson plain
+    Is soaked, and shrill with javelins shrieks the sky,
+    Then shouts, with hand uplifted, to his train,
+    "Rutulians, hold! Ye Latin men refrain!
+    Mine are the risks of Fortune, mine of right,
+    The truce thus torn, to expiate the stain,
+    And let the sword give judgment." At the sight
+The hostile ranks divide, and clear the lists of fight.
+
+XCI. But when the Sire AEneas heard the name
+    Of Turnus, and his foeman's form espied,
+    Down from the ramparts and the towers he came,
+    And scorned delay, and put all else aside,
+    Thundering in arms, and glorying in his pride.
+    As Athos huge, as Eryx huge he shows,
+    Or huge as Father Apennine, whose side
+    Roars with his nodding oaks, when drifted snows
+Shine on his joyous crest, and lighten on his brows.
+
+XCII. Rutulians, Trojans, Latins,--each and all
+    Look wondering on, both they who man the height,
+    And they who batter at the base. Down fall
+    Their arms. Amazed Latinus views the sight,
+    Two chiefs from distant countries, matched in might.
+    The lists set wide, they dash into the fray.
+    Each hurls a spear, then, hand to hand, they fight.
+    Loud ring the shields, and quick the broadswords play.
+Earth groans, and chance contends with courage for the day.
+
+XCIII. As on Taburnus, or in Sila's shade
+    Two bulls, with butting foreheads, mix in fray:
+    Pale fly the hinds, mute stands the herd dismayed:
+    The heifers low, unknowing who shall sway
+    The grove, what lord and leader to obey;
+    They, with horns locked, their mutual rage outpour,
+    And thrust for thrust, and wound for wound repay,
+    Fast from their necks and dewlaps streams the gore,
+And all the neighbouring wood rebellows to the roar;
+
+XCIV. So, when both champions on the listed field,
+    The Trojan and the Daunian, eye to eye,
+    Met in the deadly conflict, shield to shield
+    Clanged, and a loud crash shattered through the sky.
+    And now great Jove, the Sire of gods on high,
+    Holds up the scales, and sets the long beam straight,
+    And in the balance lays their fates, to try
+    Each champion's fortune in the stern debate,
+Whom battle's toil shall doom, where sinks the deathful weight.
+
+XCV. Forth springs, in fancied safety, at his foe
+    Fierce Turnus, rising to his utmost height,
+    And planting all his body in the blow,
+    Strikes. A loud shout, of terror and delight
+    Goes up from Troy and Latium at the sight.
+    When lo, the falchion, as the stroke he plies,
+    Snaps short, and leaves him helpless. Naught but flight
+    Can aid him; swifter than the wind he flies,
+As in his hand disarmed an unknown hilt he spies.
+
+XCVI. When first his steeds were harnessed for the war,
+    In haste he snatched Metiscus' sword, 'tis said,
+    His sire's forgotten, as he climbed the car,
+    And well enough that weapon served his stead,
+    To smite the stragglers, while the Trojans fled;
+    But when it met, and countered in the fray
+    The arms of Vulcan, then the mortal blade,
+    Found faithless, like the brittle ice, gave way,
+And in the yellow sand the sparkling fragments lay.
+
+XCVII. So Turnus flies, and, doubling, but in vain,
+    Now here, now there, weaves many an aimless round;
+    For all about him, as he scours the plain,
+    The swarming legions of the foe are found,
+    And here the marsh, and there the bulwarks bound.
+    Nor less AEneas, though his stiff knee feels
+    The rankling arrow, and the hampering wound
+    Retards his pace, pursues him, as he wheels,
+And dogs the flying foe, and presses on his heels.
+
+XCVIII. As when some stag, a river in his face,
+    Or toils with scarlet feathers, set to scare,
+    A huntsman with his braying hounds doth chase.
+    Awed by the steep bank and the threatening snare,
+    A thousand ways he doubles here and there;
+    But the keen Umbrian, all agape, is by,
+    Now grasps,--now holds him,--and now thinks to tear,
+    And snaps his teeth on nothing; and a cry
+Rings back from shore and stream, and rolls along the sky.
+
+XCIX. Chiding by name his comrades, as he flies,
+    Fierce Turnus for his trusty sword doth cry.
+    Nor less AEneas with his threat defies,
+    "Stand off," he shouts, "who ventures to draw nigh,
+    His town shall perish, and himself shall die."
+    Onward, though maimed, he presses to his prey.
+    Twice five times circling round the field they fly;
+    For no mean stake or sportive prize they play,
+Lo, Turnus' life and blood are wagered in the fray.
+
+C.  A wilding olive on the sward had stood,
+    Sacred to Faunus. Mariners of yore
+    In worship held the venerable bough,
+    When to Laurentum's guardian, safe on shore
+    Their votive raiment and their gifts they bore.
+    That sacred tree, the lists of fight to clear,
+    Troy's sons had lopped. There, in the trunk's deep core,
+    The Dardan javelin, urged with impulse sheer,
+Stuck fast; the stubborn root, retentive, grasped the spear.
+
+CI. Stooping, AEneas with his hands essayed
+    To pluck the steel, and follow with the spear
+    The foe his feet o'ertook not. Sore dismayed
+    Then Turnus cried, "O Faunus, heed and hear,
+    And thou, kind Earth, hold fast the steel, if dear
+    I held the plant, which Trojan hands profaned."
+    He prayed, nor Heaven refused a kindly ear.
+    Long while AEneas at the tough root strained;
+Vain was his utmost strength; the biting shaft remained.
+
+CII. While thus he stooped and struggled, prompt to aid,
+    Juturna, to Metiscus changed anew,
+    Ran forth, and to her brother reached his blade.
+    Then Venus, wroth the daring Nymph to view,
+    Came, and the javelin from the stem withdrew,
+    Thus, armed afresh, each eager for his chance,
+    The Daunian trusting to his falchion true,
+    The Dardan towering with uplifted lance,
+High-hearted, face to face, the breathless chiefs advance.
+
+CIII. Then Jove, as from a saffron cloud above
+    Looked Juno, pleased the doubtful strife to view,
+    "When shall this end, sweet partner of my love?
+    What more? Thou know'st it, and hast owned it too,
+    Divine AEneas to the skies is due.
+    What wilt thou, chill in cloudland? Was it right
+    A god with mortal weapons to pursue?
+    Or give--for thine was all Juturna's might--
+Lost Turnus back his sword, and renovate the fight?
+
+CIV. "Desist at length, and hearken to my prayer.
+    Feed not in silence on a grief so sore,
+    Nor spoil those sweet lips with unlovely care.
+    The end is come; 'twas thine on sea and shore
+    Troy's sons to vex, to wake the war's uproar,
+    To cloud a home, a marriage-league untie,
+    And mar with grief a bridal. Cease, and more
+    Attempt not." Thus the ruler of the sky,
+And thus, with down-cast look, Saturnia made reply.
+
+CV. "E'en so, great Jove, because thy will was known,
+    I left, reluctant, Turnus and his land.
+    Else ne'er should'st thou behold me here alone,
+    Thus shamed and suffering, but, torch in hand,
+    To smite these hateful Teucrians would I stand.
+    I made Juturna rescue from the foe
+    Her hapless brother,--mine was the command,--
+    Approved her daring for his sake, yet so
+As not to wield the spear, or meddle with the bow.
+
+CVI. "Nay, that I swear, and a dread oath will take
+    (The only oath that doth the high gods bind),
+    By that grim fount that feeds the Stygian lake.
+    And now, great Jove, reluctant, but resigned,
+    I yield, and leave the loathed fight behind.
+    One boon I ask, nor that in Fate's despite,
+    For Latium, for the honour of thy kind.
+    When--be it so--blest Hymen's pact they plight,
+And laws and lasting league the warring folks unite,
+
+CVII. "Ne'er let the children of the soil disown
+    The name of Latins; turn them not, I pray,
+    To Trojan folk, to be as Teucrians known.
+    Ne'er let Italia's children put away
+    The garb they wear, the language of to-day
+    Let Latium flourish, and abide the same,
+    And Alban kings through distant ages sway.
+    Let Rome through Latin prowess wax in fame;
+But fall'n is Troy, and fall'n for ever be her name."
+
+CVIII. Smiling, the founder of the world replied:
+    "Thou, second child of Saturn, born to reign
+    In heaven Jove's sister, and his spouse beside.
+    Such floods of passion can thy breast contain?
+    But come, and from thy fruitless rage refrain.
+    I yield, and gladly; be thy will obeyed.
+    Speech, customs, name Ausonia shall retain
+    Unchanged for ever, as thy lips have prayed.
+And in the Latin race Troy's mingled blood shall fade.
+
+CIX. "All Latins will I make them, of one tongue,
+    And sacred rites, as common good, assign.
+    Hence shalt thou see, from blood Ausonian sprung,
+    A blended race, whose piety shall shine
+    Excelling man's, and equalling divine;
+    And ne'er shall other nation tell so loud
+    Thy praise, or pay such homage to thy shrine."
+    Well-pleased was Juno, and assenting bowed,
+And straight with altered mind ascended from the cloud.
+
+CX. New schemes the Sire, from Turnus to repel
+    Juturna's aid, now ponders in his mind.
+    Two fiends there are, called Furies. Night with fell
+    Megaera bore them at one birth, and twined
+    Their serpent spires, and winged them like the wind.
+    These at Jove's threshold, and beside his throne
+    Await his summons, to afflict mankind,
+    When death or pestilence the Sire sends down,
+Or shakes the world with war, and scares the guilty town.
+
+CXI. One, for an omen, from the skies he sends,
+    To front Juturna. Down, with sudden spring,
+    To earth, as in a whirlwind, she descends.
+    As when a poisoned arrow from the string
+    Through clouds a Parthian launches on the wing,--
+    Parthian or Cretan--and in darkling flight
+    The shaft, with cureless venom in its sting,
+    Screams through the shadows; so, arrayed in might,
+Swift to the earth came down the daughter of the Night.
+
+CXII. But when Troy's host and Turnus' ranks were known,
+    Shrunk to the semblance of a bird in size,
+    Which oft on tombs or ruined roofs alone
+    Sits late at night, and with ill-omened cries
+    Vexes the darkness; so in dwarfed disguise
+    The foul fiend, shrieking around Turnus' head,
+    Flaps on his shield, and flutters o'er his eyes.
+    Strange torpor numbs the Daunian's limbs with dread;
+The stiffening hair stands up, and all his voice is dead.
+
+CXIII. The rustling wings Juturna knew, and tore
+    Her comely face, and rent her scattered hair,
+    And smote her breast: "O cruel me! what more
+    For Turnus can a sister now? What care
+    Or craft thy days can lengthen? Can I dare
+    To face this fiend? At last, at last I go,
+    And quit the field. Foul birds, avaunt, nor scare
+    My fluttering soul. Too well the sounds of woe,
+Those beating wings,--too well great Jove's behest I know.
+
+CXIV. "_This_ for my robbed virginity? Ah, why
+    Did immortality the Sire bestow,
+    And grudge a mortal's privilege--to die?
+    Else, sure this moment could I end my woe,
+    And with my hapless brother pass below.
+    Immortal I? What joy hath aught beside,
+    Thou, Turnus, dead? Gape, Earth, and let me go,
+    A Goddess, to the shades!" She spake, and sighed,
+And, veiled in azure mantle, plunged beneath the tide.
+
+CXV. But fierce AEneas on his foeman pressed.
+    His tree-like spear he poises for the fray,
+    And pours the pent-up fury of his breast.
+    "Why stay'st thou, Turnus? Wherefore this delay?
+    Fierce arms, not swiftness, must decide the day.
+    Shift as thou wilt, and every shape assume;
+    Exhaust thy courage and thy craft, and pray
+    For wings to soar with, or in earth's dark womb
+Sink low thy recreant head, and hide thee from thy doom."
+
+CXVI. Thus he; but Turnus shook his head, and said,
+    "Ruffian! thy threats are but as empty sound;
+    They daunt not Turnus; 'tis the gods I dread,
+    And Jove my enemy." Then, glancing round,
+    He marked a chance-met boulder on the ground,
+    Huge, grey with age, set there in ancient days
+    To clear disputes,--a barrier and a bound.
+    Scarce twelve picked men the ponderous mass could raise,
+Such men as Earth brings forth in these degenerate days.
+
+CXVII. That stone the Daunian lifted, straining hard
+    With hurrying hand, and all his height updrew,
+    And at AEneas hurled the monstrous shard;
+    So heaving, and so running, scarce he knew
+    His running, or how huge a weight he threw.
+    Cold froze his blood; beneath his trembling frame
+    The weak knees tottered. Through the void air flew
+    The stone, nor all the middle space o'ercame,
+Short of its mark it fell, nor answered to its aim.
+
+CXVIII. As oft in dreams, when drowsy night doth load
+    The slumbering eyes, still eager, but in vain,
+    We strive to race along a lengthening road,
+    And faint and fall, amidmost of the strain;
+    The feeble limbs their wonted aid disdain,
+    Mute is the tongue, nor doth the voice obey,
+    Nor words find utterance; so with fruitless pain
+    Poor Turnus strives; but, struggle as he may,
+The baffling fiend is there, and mocks the vain essay.
+
+CXIX. Then, tost with diverse passions, dazed with fear,
+    Towards friends and town he throws an anxious glance.
+    No car he sees, no sister-charioteer.
+    Desperate of flight, nor daring to advance,
+    Aghast, and shuddering at the lifted lance,
+    He falters. Then AEneas poised at last
+    His spear, and hurled it, as he marked his chance.
+    Less loud the stone from battering engine cast,
+Less loud through ether bursts the levin-bolt's dread blast.
+
+CXX. Like a black whirlwind flew the deadly spear,
+    Right thro' the rim the sevenfold shield it rent
+    And breastplate's edge, nor stayed its onset ere
+    Deep in the thigh its hissing course was spent.
+    Down on the earth, his knees beneath him bent,
+    Great Turnus sank: Rutulia's host around
+    Sprang up with wailing and with wild lament:
+    From neighbouring hills their piercing cries rebound,
+And every wooded steep re-echoes to the sound.
+
+CXXI. Then, looking up, his pleading hands he rears:
+    "Death I deserve, nor death would I delay.
+    Use, then, thy fortune. If a father's tears
+    Move thee, for old Anchises' sake, I pray,
+    Pity old Daunus. Me, or else my clay,
+    If so thou wilt, to home and kin restore.
+    Thine is the victory. Latium's land to-day
+    Hath seen her prince the victor's grace implore.
+Lavinia now is thine; the bitter feud give o'er."
+
+CXXII. Wrathful in arms, with rolling eyeballs, stood
+    AEneas, and his lifted arm withdrew;
+    And more and more now melts his wavering mood,
+    When lo, on Turnus' shoulder--known too true--
+    The luckless sword-belt flashed upon his view;
+    And bright with gold studs shone the glittering prey,
+    Which ruthless Turnus, when the youth he slew,
+    Stripped from the lifeless Pallas, as he lay,
+And on his shoulders wore, in token of the day.
+
+CXXIII. Then terribly AEneas' wrath upboils,
+    His fierce eyes fixt upon the sign of woe.
+    "Shalt _thou_ go hence, and with the loved one's spoils?
+    'Tis Pallas--Pallas deals the deadly blow.
+    And claims this victim for his ghost below."
+    He spake, and mad with fury, as he said,
+    Drove the keen falchion through his prostrate foe.
+    The stalwart limbs grew stiff with cold and dead,
+And, groaning, to the shades the scornful spirit fled.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK ONE
+
+
+I. 'The Lavinian shore,' the coast of Italy near Lavinium, an old
+town in Latium. See also stanzas xxxv. and xxxvi.
+
+III. Carthage was a Phoenician colony, and Tyre was the leading
+Phoenician city.
+
+Samos was an island in the Archipelago near the coast of Asia Minor.
+There was a famous temple on it, dedicated to Juno, who was supposed
+to take a special interest in the island.
+
+V. 'The choice of Paris' refers to the Greek story that once when
+the gods were feasting, 'Discord' threw a golden apple on the table
+as a prize for the fairest. Juno, Minerva and Venus each claimed it,
+but the Trojan prince Paris, who was made judge, gave it to Venus.
+_Ganymede_ was a beautiful Trojan boy who was carried off to Olympus
+to be Jove's cup-bearer.
+
+VI. Ajax, son of Oileus, desecrated Minerva's temple at Troy. (Cf.
+Book II. stanza liv.)
+
+XIV. The 'son of Tydeus' is Diomedes, one of the foremost Greek
+warriors in the war with Troy. Aeneas narrowly escaped being slain
+by him.
+
+For _Sarpedon_ see Book IX. stanza lxxxix. and for _Simois_ note on
+Book VI. stanza xiv.
+
+XXVI. Acestes was king of Eryx in Sicily, which was called
+'Trinacria' from its three promontories. See Book V. stanzas iv. and
+following.
+
+XXVII. See note on Book III. stanzas lxxi. and following.
+
+XXXII. The legend was that Antenor escaped from Troy and established
+a colony of Trojans at the northern end of the Adriatic. The _Timavus_
+was a small river near where Trieste now is.
+
+XXXIII. _Patavium_. The modern Padua.
+
+XXXV. Ascanius or Iulus is the son of Aeneas.
+
+XXXVI. The legend was that Rhea Silvia, a priestess of Mars, bore
+the twins Romulus and Remus. The two children were exposed and left
+to die, but were found and nursed by a she-wolf.
+
+XXXVIII. This prophecy refers not to C. Julius Caesar but to his
+nephew Augustus, as is shown by the references to the east (the battle
+of Actium) and to the closing of the 'gates of Janus.' For an account
+of the latter, see Book VII. stanza xxiv.
+
+XL. The 'son of Maia' is Mercury.
+
+XLII. Harpalyce was the daughter of a Thracian king and a famous
+huntress.
+
+XLIX. _Byrsa_. This word, originally the Semitic word for 'citadel,'
+was thought by the Greeks to be their own word _Byrsa_ meaning 'a
+bull's hide.' This mistake was probably the cause of the legend given
+by Virgil.
+
+LV. _Paphos_ in Cyprus was one of the chief centres of the worship
+of Venus.
+
+LX. Priam was the king of Troy, and the Atridae were Agamemnon and
+Menelaus. Achilles is described as fierce to both, because he
+quarrelled with Agamemnon about a captive. It is with this quarrel
+that the _Iliad_ opens.
+
+LXII. _Rhesus_, king of Thrace, had come to help the Trojans. It had
+been prophesied that if his horses ate Trojan grass or drank the water
+of the river, Troy could never be taken. Diomedes (Tydides) prevented
+this by capturing the horses.
+
+LXIII. _Troilus:_ a son of Priam slain by Achilles.
+
+LXIV. Memnon, son of Aurora, the dawn-goddess, and Penthesilea,
+queen of the Amazons, came to Troy as allies. They were both slain
+by Achilles.
+
+LXV. The _Eurotas_ was a river in Laconia, and Cynthus was a mountain
+of Delos. Both places were supposed to be favourite haunts of the
+goddess Diana. _Oreads:_ mountain-nymphs. _Latona_ was the mother
+of Diana and Apollo.
+
+LXX. _Hesperia_, 'the western land,' means Italy.
+
+The Oenotrian folk were an old Italian race settled in the south of
+the peninsula, in Lucania. _Italus_ is an eponymous hero and was
+probably invented to account for the name _Italia_. Probably
+_Italia_ means 'the cattle land.'
+
+LXXXII. This Teucer, who was a Greek, must be carefully distinguished
+from the founder of the Trojans. He was a son of the king of Salamis,
+and on his return from the Trojan war was exiled by his father. He
+fled to Dido's father Belus, and with the help of the latter founded
+a new kingdom in Cyprus.
+
+XCVII. Bacchus was the god of wine and feasting.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK TWO
+
+
+XXII. An oracle said that the citadel of Troy would never be taken
+as long as the _Palladium_, or image of Pallas, remained in it. So
+Diomedes and Ulysses stole the image.
+
+XXXII. Apollo had conferred on Cassandra the gift of prophecy. But
+she deceived him, and as he could not take away his former gift, he
+added as a curse that no one should ever believe her.
+
+XXXV. _Neoptolemus_ was the son of Achilles and grandson of Peleus.
+
+XLII. _Sigeum_ is the name of the promontory which juts out into the
+Hellespont from the Troad.
+
+LV. The 'Atridan pair' were Agamemnon, king of Argos, and Menelaus,
+king of Sparta, the sons of Atreus.
+
+LVI. _Nereus_ was one of the chief sea-gods.
+
+LXI. Andromache was the wife of Hector.
+
+LXIII. Pyrrhus is the same as Neoptolemus in stanza xxxv.
+
+LXXVI. Creusa and Iulus were the wife and son of Aeneas.
+
+LXXVII. Helen is called 'Tyndarean' because she was the daughter of
+Tyndarus. Paris, son of Priam, had carried her off from her husband
+Menelaus, and so caused the Trojan war.
+
+LXXXIII. The goddess Pallas (Athena) wore on her shield the head of
+the snaky-haired monster Medusa, one of the Gorgons.
+
+LXXXIV. The walls of Troy were said to have been built by Apollo and
+Neptune.
+
+CV. _Hesperia_, 'the western land,' here means Italy. The Tiber is
+called Lydian from a tradition that the Lydians had colonised
+Etruria.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK THREE
+
+
+X. The _Nereids_ were sea-nymphs, the daughters of Nereus. The island
+mentioned is Delos, and the story referred to is that Jupiter hid
+Latona, the mother of Apollo and Diana, on the floating island of
+Delos, in order to shelter her from the jealousy of Juno. By means
+of chains Apollo fixed Delos between the two small neighbouring
+islands Myconos and Gyarus.
+
+XII. 'Thymbrean lord.' Apollo, so called from the town of Thymbra
+in the Troad, where he was worshipped.
+
+XVI. Crete is called 'Gnosian' from 'Gnossos,' the chief town of the
+island.
+
+XVII. _Ortygia_ was the ancient name of Delos.
+
+XXIII. The 'Ausonian shores' means Italy. For the Ausonians, see Book
+VII. stanza vi.
+
+XXIX. The Strophades were a small group of islands off the south-west
+coast of Greece. The story alluded to is that Phineus, king of Thrace,
+unjustly put out the eyes of his sons. As a punishment the gods
+blinded him, and sent the Harpies--loathsome monsters with the
+bodies of birds and the faces of women--to defile and seize all the
+food that was set before him. Phineus was at last freed from them
+by Zetes and Calais, the sons of the North Wind, who drove the Harpies
+from Thrace to the Strophades.
+
+For Celaeno's prophecy, see note on Book VII. stanza xvi.
+
+XXXVI. Ulysses, the most cunning of the Greek leaders before Troy,
+was king of Ithaca, and son of Laertes.
+
+XXXIX. _Phaeacia_ means _Corcyra_, and _Chaonia_ is a district of
+Epirus. Its chief harbour was Buthrotum.
+
+XLIII. _Hermione_ was the daughter of Menelaus and Helen. Orestes
+was the son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. He slew his mother on
+account of her treacherous murder of Agamemnon when the latter
+returned home from Troy, and killed Pyrrhus for having deprived him
+of his promised bride, Hermione.
+
+XLVI. _Xanthus_ was a river that flowed near Troy. The 'Scaean Gate'
+was the western gate of Troy and looked towards the sea. It was the
+best known of the gates because most of the fighting took place before
+it.
+
+XLVII. Apollo was called 'Clarian' from Claros (near Ephesus), where
+there was a shrine and oracle of the god.
+
+LII. _Narycos_, or more properly _Naryx_, was a town of the Opuntian
+Locri in Greece. Virgil follows the tradition that they went and
+settled in the south of Italy at the close of the Trojan war.
+
+The 'Sallentinian plain' was the land bordering on the Tarentine Gulf,
+and 'Petelia' was on the east coast of Bruttium, and had been founded
+by Philoctetes, after he had been expelled from Thessaly.
+
+LV. _Scylla_ and _Charybdis_ are taken from Homer. The former was
+a terrible sea-monster with six heads, and the latter a whirlpool.
+Tradition fixed their abode as the Straits of Messina. Scylla dwelt
+in a cave on the Italian side, Charybdis on the Sicilian.
+
+LX. Dodona, in Epirus, was one of the famous oracles in Greece.
+
+LXVIII. The place was called 'Castrum Minervae,' and lay a few miles
+to the north of the southern extremity of Calabria.
+
+LXXII. The Cyclops were placed by Virgil on the slopes of Aetna.
+
+LXXIV. _Enceladus_ was one of the giants who had fought against the
+gods, but Jupiter struck him down with a thunderbolt and buried him
+under Mount Aetna.
+
+LXXXVII. _Pelorus_ was the most northerly headland of the Straits
+of Messina.
+
+LXXXVIII. _Plemmyrium_ ('the place of the tides') is the headland
+near the harbour of Syracuse, which was built on the island of Ortygia.
+The legend which Virgil refers to relates that Alpheus, the god of
+a river in Elis, fell in love with the nymph Arethusa while she was
+bathing in his waters. Diana changed her into a stream, and in that
+guise she fled from Alpheus under land and sea, finally issuing forth
+in Ortygia. Alpheus pursued her, and mingled his waters with hers.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK FOUR
+
+
+VIII. '_Sire Lyaeus:_' Bacchus. These gods are mentioned in this
+place as having to do with marriage--possibly they are invoked as
+being specially the gods of Carthage.
+
+XV. The name 'Titan' as applied to the sun is curious. Perhaps it
+is a reference to the Greek tale that Hyperion, one of the Titans,
+was the father of the sun.
+
+XIX. The _Agathyrsians_ were a Scythian tribe, and the _Dryopes_ were
+a Thessalian people who dwelt on Mount Parnassus, the especial home
+of Apollo; Cynthus is a mountain in Delos.
+
+XXVI. 'Ammon' was the African Jupiter.
+
+XXIX. The 'Zephyrs' were the south-west winds, and so the right ones
+to take the fleet of Aeneas to Italy from Carthage.
+
+XXXII. Atlas was the giant who held apart heaven and earth. Virgil
+identifies him with the mountains which lie in North Africa between
+the sea and the desert of Sahara. Atlas was the father of Maia, the
+mother of Mercury. The latter is called 'Cyllenius' from his
+birth-place, Mount Cyllene in Arcadia.
+
+XXXVIII. Mount Cithaeron, near Thebes, was famous for the revels
+which took place there in honour of Bacchus.
+
+XLIV. Phoebus (Apollo) is called 'Grynoeus' from Grynium, a city of
+Aeolis in Asia Minor. He was much worshipped in Lycia, hence his
+oracles are often called 'Lycian lots.'
+
+LV. It was at Aulis in Boeotia that the Greek expedition against Troy
+mustered.
+
+LX. In this passage Virgil has in mind the _Bacchae_ of Euripides,
+in which Pentheus goes mad, and perhaps the _Eumenides_ of Aeschylus,
+but it is more probable that in the latter case he is merely thinking
+of Orestes as he is represented in tragedy.
+
+LXVI. _Hecate_, the goddess of the lower world, sometimes identified
+with Proserpina, and sometimes with Diana. She was worshipped at
+cross-roads by night.
+
+For _Avernus_, see note on Book VI. stanza xviii.
+
+The ancients believed that foals were born with a lump on their
+foreheads. The name given to this was _hippomanes_, and it was
+supposed to act as a powerful love-philtre.
+
+LXXXII. By the 'unknown Avenger' Virgil clearly points to Hannibal.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK FIVE
+
+
+IV. Eryx was the son of Venus and Butes, Aeneas son of Venus and
+Anchises, hence they are called brothers here. Eryx is the legendary
+founder of the town of that name on the west coast of Sicily, near
+Mount Eryx.
+
+VI. The story was that Acestes was the son of the Sicilian river-god
+Crimisus and Egesta, a Trojan maiden.
+
+XI. The myrtle was sacred to Venus. Helymus was the supposed founder
+of the Elymi, a Sicilian tribe. He was a Trojan who had migrated to
+Sicily from Troy.
+
+XVI.-XVII. The _gens Memmia_ and the _gens Sergia_ were two
+distinguished Roman families who traced their descent from Trojans.
+The only member of the family of Cluentius we know much about is the
+disreputable person on whose behalf Cicero made a well-known speech.
+
+XXVI. Cape Malea is the most southerly point of Laconia in the
+Peloponnesus, renowned for its storms.
+
+XXXII. _Panopea_ was one of the Nereids or sea-nymphs. Portunus was
+an ancient Roman sea-god. Originally he was, as his name implies,
+a god of harbourage.
+
+XXXIII. Meliboea was a town at the foot of Mount Ossa in Thessaly.
+
+LVI. _Alcides_, a common name for Hercules, who was descended from
+Alcaeus. Hercules slew Eryx in the boxing-match referred to.
+
+LXVIII. This refers to an incident mentioned in the _Iliad_. A truce
+had been concluded by the Greek and Trojans but it was broken by
+Pandarus, who shot an arrow at Menelaus.
+
+LXXII. The meaning of this passage is very obscure. For we are not
+told what the portent signified either in this or the succeeding
+books. The old interpretation was that it referred to the burning
+of the ships (lxxxii. and following), but it is more probable that
+Virgil was thinking of the wars between Rome and Sicily.
+
+LXXVII. The mother of Augustus was a member of the Atian family, and
+this passage was evidently inserted by Virgil with the special idea
+of pleasing Augustus.
+
+LXXX. For Crete and the Labyrinth, see note on Book VI. stanza iv.
+
+CIII. The temple of Venus on Mount Eryx was very celebrated in
+antiquity. Venus is called 'Idalian' from Idalium in Cyprus.
+
+CXII. All the names that occur in this stanza are those of sea-gods
+or sea-nymphs.
+
+CXVIII. The Roman poets placed the Sirens on some rocks in the
+southern part of the bay of Naples.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK SIX
+
+
+I. _Cumae_ was the most ancient Greek colony in Campania. The
+tradition was that it had been founded by immigrants from Cyme and
+Aeolis and from Chaleis in Euboea. Hence its name, and the epithet
+Virgil applies to it.
+
+II. The 'Sibyl' here mentioned was the most famous of the
+prophetesses of antiquity. She was directly inspired by Apollo (the
+Delian seer), and dwelt in a cavern near his temple. _Trivia_ is an
+epithet of Hecate. See note on Book IV. stanza lxvi.
+
+III. Daedalus, who built the labyrinth for Minos, incurred the wrath
+of the latter and escaped from Crete with his son Icarus, by making
+wings. He fastened them on with wax, and Icarus flying too near the
+sun, his wings melted and he fell into the Aegean. Daedalus, however,
+reached Cumae in safety.
+
+IV. On the gate were carvings representing various Cretan stories.
+Androgeos was the son of Minos, king of Crete. He won all the contests
+at the Panathenaic festival at Athens, whose king, Aegeus, slew him
+out of jealousy. In revenge, Minos made war on the Athenians, and
+forced them to pay a yearly tribute of seven youths and seven maidens,
+who were devoured by the Minotaur. This monster was the offspring
+of Pasiphae, wife of Minos, and a bull sent by Neptune, and it lived
+in the labyrinth built by Daedalus. The tribute continued to be paid
+until Theseus, son of Aegeus, went to Crete as one of the seven.
+Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, fell in love with him, and helped
+him to slay the monster.
+
+XIV. _Xanthus_ and _Simois_ were two rivers which flowed through the
+plain before Troy. The new Achilles is of course Turnus, king of the
+Rutuli.
+
+XV. The Grecian town is Pallanteum, the chief city of Evander's
+kingdom. See Book VIII. stanza vii.
+
+XVI. Acheron was the fabled river of the lower world. Virgil probably
+had in his mind the real _Acherusia palus_, a gloomy marsh near
+Naples.
+
+XVIII. There was a volcanic lake near Cumae called _Avernus_, whose
+waters gave out sulphureous vapours. It was connected by tradition
+with the lower world. Orpheus, the mythical poet, so charmed the gods
+of the nether world by his harp-playing, that he was allowed to take
+back to the upper world his dead wife Eurydice. Castor was mortal,
+but his brother Pollux was immortal; so when the former was slain
+in fight Pollux obtained from Jupiter permission that each should
+spend half their time in heaven, half in Hades. Theseus descended
+into Hades in order to carry off Proserpine. He was kept a prisoner
+there until he was rescued by Hercules (Alcides), who came down to
+carry off Cerberus, the three-headed dog who guarded the entrance
+(see stanza lvi.).
+
+XXXII. Virgil alludes to the promontory of Misenum on the north side
+of the bay of Naples. The legend is a purely local one. There is no
+mention of Misenus in Homer.
+
+XXXIII. 'Aornos' is a Greek word--'where no bird can come.'
+
+XXXV. 'The Furies' mother and her sister' were Night and Earth.
+
+XXXVII. 'Phlegethon' was the 'burning' river of the lower world.
+
+XXXIX. The beast of Lerna is the Lernean Hydra, slain by Hercules;
+the others are terrible monsters slain by various heroes.
+
+XLI. Charon was the ferryman of the dead.
+
+LIV. Apollo was called Amphrysian because he tended the herds of
+Admetus near the river Amphrysus in Thessaly. Here the epithet is
+strangely transferred to Apollo's servant.
+
+LVII. Minos, king of Crete, became one of the judges of the dead,
+in the under-world. His brother Rhadamanthus was the other. See
+stanza lxxv.
+
+LIX. For Phaedra, see note on Book VII. stanza ciii. Procris was
+accidentally slain by her husband, Eriphyle was killed by her son
+Alcmaeon, Evadne threw herself on her husband's funeral pyre, and
+Laodamia also died with her husband. For Pasiphae, see note on stanza
+iv.
+
+LXIII. Tydeus, Parthenopaeus, and Adrastus were three of the seven
+heroes who fought against Thebes. The other names are taken from the
+_Iliad_.
+
+LXXVII. The two sons of Aloeus were Otus and Ephialtes, who
+threatened to assail the Immortals by piling Pelion on Ossa and Ossa
+on Olympus. Salmoneus of Elis was punished for having presumptuously
+claimed divine honours.
+
+LXXX. Ixion was king of the Lapithae, and being taken to heaven by
+Jupiter, made love to Juno, for which he was eternally punished.
+Pirithous was his son, and was guilty of having, with Theseus,
+attempted to carry off Proserpine.
+
+XCIII. _Lethe_ was the river of forgetfulness, and those who drank
+of it forgot their former life and were ready for a new one.
+
+C.-CI. The kings mentioned in these two stanzas are the earliest
+mythical rulers of Alba Longa. Numitor was the father of Rhea Silvia
+(Ilia), the mother of Romulus and Remus.
+
+CV. The Emperor Augustus was the nephew and adopted son of C. Julius
+Caesar, who claimed to trace his descent back to Iulus, and so through
+Aeneas to Venus herself.
+
+CVIII. The first king referred to is Numa Pompilius, who was a Sabine
+born at Cures. Tullus and Ancus were the third and fourth kings of
+Rome. They can none of them be considered historical figures.
+
+CIX. This Brutus expelled Tarquinius Superbus, the last king of Rome.
+His sons tried to restore the monarchy and he ordered them to be
+executed.
+
+CX. The Decii, father and son, both died in battle, and the family
+of the Drusi had many distinguished members. Manlius Torquatus was
+celebrated for killing his son for disobeying orders. Camillus was
+the great Roman hero of the fourth century B.C. He was five times
+dictator and saved Rome from the Gauls.
+
+CXI. Virgil is referring to Caesar and Pompey.
+
+CXII. L. Mummius captured Corinth, and so ended the war with Greece,
+in 146 B.C., and is clearly referred to here. By 'the man who lofty
+Argos shall o'erthrow,' Virgil probably means Aemilius Paullus, who
+won the battle of Pydna in 168 B.C. against a king of Macedonia who
+called himself a descendant of Achilles.
+
+CXIII. Cato was the famous censor of 184 B.C. who vainly tried to
+check the growth of luxury at Rome. Cossus killed the king of Veii
+in 426 B.C. The two Gracchi were great political reformers. The elder
+Scipio defeated Hannibal at Zama in 202 B.C., and his son took
+Carthage in 146 B.C. Fabricius was the general who fought against
+Pyrrhus, when the latter invaded Italy in 281-75 B.C. Serranus was
+a general in the first Punic war. The Fabii of renown are so many
+that Anchises only mentions the most famous of them, Q. Fabius
+Maximus Cunctator, the general against Hannibal.
+
+CXV. Marcus Marcellus was a Roman general in the first Punic war.
+
+CXVI. Marcellus was the son of the Emperor's sister Octavia, and at
+the age of 18 he married Augustus' daughter Julia. He was a youth
+of great promise, and was destined to succeed his father-in-law, but
+he died of fever at the age of 20 in 23 B.C., amidst universal grief.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK SEVEN
+
+
+I. 'Thou too, Caieta,' that is to say, as well as Misenus and
+Palinurus, mentioned in the last book. Caieta gave her name to the
+town and promontory which were on the confines of Latium and
+Campania.
+
+II. 'The coast, where Circe'--Virgil identifies 'the island of
+Aeaea,' the dwelling-place of Circe in Homer, with the promontory
+of Circeii in Italy.
+
+VI. 'Say, Erato:' Erato was the Muse of Love, and the invocation is
+not specially appropriate in this place. But the line is an imitation
+of Apollonius Rhodius iii, 1.
+
+'Ausonia,' a poetical name for Italy. The _Ausones_ were early
+inhabitants of Campania.
+
+VII. _Latinus_ was king of the Latins, a small tribe whose chief town
+was Laurentum. _Faunus_ a god of the fields and cattle-keepers, was
+afterwards identified with the Greek Pan. _Picus_ was a prophetic
+god. We are told by Ovid that he was changed into a woodpecker
+(_picus_) by Circe, whose love he had slighted. _Saturnus_ was the
+old Latin god of sowing, and was later identified with the Greek
+Kronos, father of Zeus.
+
+XII. 'Albunea': apparently refers to a wooded hill with a sulphur
+spring. Probably it refers to a shrine near some sulphur springs at
+Altieri, near Laurentum.
+
+'Oenotria': originally the southern part of Lucania and Bruttium,
+but Virgil uses it poetically for the whole of Italy.
+
+XIII. See note on Book VI. stanzas xvi. and xviii.
+
+XVI. It was not Anchises, but a Harpy who delivered this prophecy.
+See Book VIII. stanza xxix. This, and other slight inconsistencies
+in the _Aeneid_ are undoubtedly due to the fact that Virgil died
+before he had revised the poem.
+
+XVIII. 'Phrygia's Mother' was Cybele, the Phrygian goddess.
+
+XXIV. 'Two-faced Janus.' Janus was an old Latin deity, god of the
+morning and of gateways. He was represented as 'two-faced,' looking
+before and behind. There was a double archway in the forum, called
+_Janus_, which was closed in times of peace, but opened in time of
+war. See stanzas lxxxi., lxxxii.
+
+XXVIII. The Auruncans were a tribe living in Campania.
+
+XLI. The _Syrtes_ were two great gulfs on the north coast of Africa.
+For Scylla and Charybdis, see note on Book III stanza lv. The Lapithae
+were a Thessalian tribe, ruled by Perithous. The Centaurs came to
+his marriage feast, and at the instigation of Mars, fought with the
+Lapithae until the latter were defeated. 'Diana's ire' was caused
+by neglect on the part of king Oeneus of Calydon to sacrifice to her.
+She sent a wild boar to ravage the country.
+
+LXIX. 'Trivia's lake' refers to the little lake of Nemi. A famous
+temple of Diana stood here, tended by a priest who was a runaway slave.
+He gained his office by slaying his predecessor and held it only so
+long as he could escape a similar fate. Cf. stanza ciii.
+
+'Velia's fountains,' a lake in the Umbrian hills beyond Reate.
+
+LXXXVII. Agylla was the original name of Caere.
+
+XC. Homole and Othrys were mountains in Thessaly.
+
+XCI. The Anio flows through the hills near Tibur, and joins the Tiber
+close to 'Antemnae's tower-girt height.' Cf. stanza lxxxiv.
+
+Anagnia was the largest town of the Hernici, and Amasenus was a river
+of Latium.
+
+XCIII. All these places were close to each other in Etruria, a few
+miles north of Rome.
+
+XCIV. It is probable that this passage was left unfinished by Virgil.
+The simile is taken from Homer, and used here in two different ways,
+the poet evidently postponing his final decision as to which he would
+adopt, until he revised the poem.
+
+XCV. Clausus, according to a legend preserved by Livy, was a Sabine
+who left his own countrymen and joined the Romans. For this he was
+rewarded by a gift of land on the Anio. He was regarded as the ancestor
+of the Claudian family.
+
+XCVI. The name of the Allia was ill-omened because it was on the banks
+of this stream that the Gauls under Brennus inflicted a crushing
+defeat on the Romans in 390 B.C.
+
+XCVIII. The Oscans were one of the old non-Latin tribes of Italy.
+Some fragments of their language still remain.
+
+CIII. The legend was that Hippolytus, the son of Theseus, king of
+Athens, was loved by his step-mother Phaedra. Hippolytus rejected
+her love, and she killed herself, leaving a writing accusing him of
+having tempted her. Theseus in his wrath besought Poseidon to slay
+his son, and the latter sent a monster from the sea, which terrified
+the horses of Hippolytus so that they ran away and killed their master.
+Aesculapius raised him to life, however, and Diana concealed him in
+the grove of Aricia under the name of Virbius. The Virbius in the
+text is the son of this Hippolytus, also called Virbius.
+
+CVI. Io, the daughter of Inachus, king of Argos, was loved by Jupiter,
+and turned by him into a white cow in order to escape the jealousy
+of Juno. The latter, however, set Argus with the hundred eyes to watch
+her.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK EIGHT
+
+
+I. Both here and in Book VII. stanza lxxxvii. Mezentius is called
+the 'scorner of the gods.' The meaning of this allusion is not known.
+Perhaps it refers to his claiming for himself the first-fruits due
+to the gods, a legend mentioned by Macrobius. See stanzas lxiii. and
+lxiv.
+
+II. 'Diomed' dwelt at Argyripa or Arpi, a city in Apulia, where he
+settled with his Argine followers after the Trojan war.
+
+VII. Pallas is the name of an old Arcadian hero. His grandson Evander
+is said to have settled with his followers on the site of Rome, and
+called it Pallanteum, after the Arcadian city of that name.
+
+XIV. Hercules was the son of Alcmena and Jupiter. His worship at Rome
+dated from very early times, as is shown by the legend--mentioned
+by Livy--that it was established by Romulus according to Greek usage
+as it had been instituted by Evander.
+
+XVI. The olive branch was the sign--universally recognised in
+antiquity--of a desire for peace.
+
+XX. The Daunian race means the Rutulians. Daunus was the father of
+Turnus. Cf. Book XII. stanza iii.
+
+XXVII. Alcides is one of the names given to Hercules. The killing
+of Geryon, the three-bodied monster who was king in Spain, and the
+driving off of his cattle, was one of the famous 'twelve labours'
+of Hercules.
+
+XXXVI. The gens Potitia and the gens Pinaria were the two tribes to
+which the care of the worship of Hercules was entrusted.
+
+XXXVIII.-IX. In historic times, the Salians were the twelve priests
+of Mars who kept the twelve sacred shields in the temple of that god
+on the Palatine hill. Their priesthood was one of the oldest Roman
+institutions, and their festival was held on March 1, the first day
+of the old Roman year.
+
+'_His stepdame's hate_' refers to the story that Juno, being jealous
+of Alcmena, the mother of Hercules, sent two snakes to destroy the
+latter as he lay in his cradle, but the infant hero strangled them.
+_Eurystheus_ was the king of Tiryns, whom Hercules had to serve for
+twelve years, and at whose command he performed his famous twelve
+labours. _Pholus_ and _Hylaeus_ were two Centaurs; they were called
+'cloud-born' because they were the offspring of Ixion and a Cloud.
+The Cretan monster is the mad bull sent by Neptune to destroy the
+land; Hercules came to the rescue and carried it away on his shoulders.
+There is no other mention in ancient literature of the fight between
+Hercules and Typhoeus. The latter was a hundred-headed
+fire-breathing monster, who fought against the gods, and was buried
+beneath Mount Aetna.
+
+XLII.-XLVIII. Evander shows the town to Aeneas, tells him of the
+former state of Latium, and points out to him the chief places of
+interest. _Asylum_--Livy tells us that in order to increase the
+population, Romulus offered a refuge at Rome to all comers from the
+neighbouring towns. The _Lupercal_ was the sanctuary of Lupercus
+('wolf-repeller'), an old Roman shepherd god. The _Capitol_ is
+referred to as 'now golden,' because in Virgil's time the roof of
+the temple of Jupiter Capitotinus was gilded.
+
+L. Thetis, the mother of Achilles, persuaded Vulcan to make arms for
+her son, and so had Aurora, the goddess of dawn, 'Tithonus' spouse,'
+when her son Memnon went to Troy to fight against the Greeks.
+
+LV. The island here referred to is Hiera, one of the Aeolian isles,
+north-east of Sicily. It is now called Volcano. The _Cyclops_ were
+originally gigantic one-eyed cannibals who lived a pastoral life
+near Mount Aetna. In later legends they are described as the
+assistants of Vulcan.
+
+LVI. These three names are Greek and mean 'Fire-anvil,' 'Thunder,'
+and 'Lightning,' respectively.
+
+LXXIV. _Erulus_ is not mentioned by any other ancient writer, so we
+cannot explain the allusion. _Feronia_ was a Campanian goddess.
+
+LXXVIII. _Lucifer_, 'the light bringer,' was the name of the morning
+star, which, rising just before the sun, seemed to bring the
+daylight.
+
+LXXX. The Pelasgians were a very ancient race, of whom only traces
+existed in Greece in historic times. They were said to be very
+wide-spread, but the tales connecting them with Italy are all
+unhistoric. _Silvanus_ was an ancient Latin woodland deity.
+
+LXXXIV. The story, as related by Livy, is that the Romans being in
+want of wives, Romulus instituted games in honour of Neptune. At a
+given signal, the Romans seized and carried off the Sabine maidens
+who had come to see the games.
+
+LXXXV. _Mettus_, dictator of Alba, had been called in to assist the
+Romans under Tullus Hostilius. He came, but withdrew his troops in
+the middle of the battle. For this treachery he was punished in the
+way Virgil describes. _Horatius Cocles_ was the hero who guarded the
+Tiber bridge against Porsenna of Clusium. _Cloelia_ was a Roman maiden
+who had been sent as a hostage to Porsenna. She escaped by swimming
+across the Tiber.
+
+LXXXVI. The event here referred to is the invasion of Rome by the
+Gauls in 390 B.C. They captured the whole of the city, except the
+Capitol, which was successfully defended by Manlius, who had been
+put on the alert by the cackling of a flock of geese.
+
+LXXXVII. See note on stanza xxxviii. The _Luperci_ were the priests
+of Lupercus. _Catiline_ was the author of the conspiracy of B.C. 63.
+Cicero, the famous orator, was consul for that year and frustrated
+the plot. _Cato_ the younger died at Utica in 49 B.C. In the Roman
+writers Catiline is always the proverbial scoundrel and Cato is
+always taken as the model of rigid and exalted virtue.
+
+LXXXVIII. At the battle of Actium, in B.C. 31, the fleet of Augustus
+met those of Antony and Cleopatra, and owing to the desertion of the
+Egyptians at the crisis of the fight, gained a complete victory over
+them.
+
+XC. The Cyclads were the western islands of the Greek archipelago.
+
+XCIV. The Carians lived in the south of Asia Minor, the Gelonians
+beyond the Danube, and the Morini on the North Sea, near where Ostend
+now is. The Dahae were a tribe of Scythians, and the Leleges were
+an ancient people spread over Asia Minor.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK NINE
+
+
+I. Iris, the rainbow-goddess, daughter of Thaumas, was the messenger
+of the gods. Pilumnus was an ancient Latin god, and an ancestor of
+Turnus.
+
+XI. _Ida_ was the mountain in the Troad whence the wood for the fleet
+was taken. _Berecyntia_. Cybele, the mother of the gods. Originally
+a Phrygian goddess, the centre of whose worship was Mount Berecyntus.
+
+XIV. The 'brother' is Pluto, god of the lower world. To swear by the
+Styx was the most dread and binding oath; it was inviolable even by
+the gods.
+
+XVIII. The reference here is to the story of how Paris, son of Priam,
+king of Troy, seized Helen, the wife of Menelaus, king of Sparta,
+and so caused the Trojan war. Menelaus and Agamemnon were the sons
+of Atreus.
+
+XXVIII. For Acestes see note on Book V. stanza vi.
+
+XXXIII. Assaracus was an ancestor of the Trojan race, and his
+household gods would of course be the tutelary spirits of the Trojan
+royal family.
+
+LII. _Latonia_. The daughter of Leto, and sister of Apollo, Diana,
+who was identified with the Greek Artemis, the goddess of the woods
+and of hunting.
+
+LXXII. 'Jove's armour-bearer' is the eagle.
+
+LXXV. The Symaethus was a river in Sicily.
+
+LXXVII. The 'wily-worded Ithacan' is Ulysses, the hero of the
+_Odyssey_.
+
+LXXX. _Dindymus_ was a mountain in Phrygia, the seat of the worship
+of Cybele.
+
+LXXXVI. 'The Kid-star.' The 'kids' are two little stars which first
+rise in the evening towards the end of September, during the
+equinoctial gales.
+
+LXXXVII. The _Athesis_ is the modern Adige. The _Padus_ is the Po.
+
+LXXXIX. Sarpedon was a Lycian prince who had fought for the Trojans
+at Troy and been slain by Patroclus. 'Theban' here refers to the town
+of Thebe in Cilicia, mentioned by Homer.
+
+XCI. _Baiae_ was a favourite seaside resort of the rich Romans on
+the bay of Naples.
+
+_Prochyta_ and _Arime_ were two rocky islands dose to the bay of
+Naples.
+
+Typhoeus was a hundred-headed monster slain by Jupiter and buried
+under Prochyta and Arime.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK TEN
+
+
+I. Olympus was a mountain in Thessaly, and was believed by the Greeks
+to be the home of the gods. Hence it came to be used for 'heaven';
+as in the present passage.
+
+II. Jupiter is referring to the invasion of Italy by Hannibal in 218
+B.C.
+
+IV. Diomedes, the son of Tydeus from Aetolia, is said to have settled,
+after the Trojan war, in Apulia, where he founded the city of Arpi.
+The Latins, it will be remembered, had asked him to help them against
+the Trojans. See Book VIII. stanza ii. And for the result of the
+embassy, Book XI. stanza xxxi. and following.
+
+VI. For the burning of the vessels at Eryx, see Book V. stanzas lxxxii.
+and following. For _Aeolia_ Book I. stanzas viii. to xx. For _Alecto_
+Book VII. stanzas xliv. and following.
+
+VIII. Paphos, Amathus, and Idalium were towns in Cyprus. Cythera is
+an island off the southern coast of Greece. All four were celebrated
+in antiquity as centres of the worship of Venus.
+
+XIV. The robber was Paris, who carried off Helen.
+
+XXI. _Ismarus_ was a prince from Lydia, a district in Asia Minor,
+called Maeonia in ancient times. The Pactolus was a river in Maeonia,
+famous on account of the quantity of gold it washed down. The 'Capuan
+town' is Capua.
+
+XXIII. The lions are there because Cybele the Phrygian goddess,
+worshipped by the Trojans on Mount Ida, was drawn in her chariot by
+two lions. The figure-head of Aeneas' ship was probably an image of
+a goddess, personifying the mountain.
+
+XXIV. Mount Helicon is in Boeotia, and was sacred to Apollo and the
+Muses. _Clusium_ and _Cosae_ were Etruscan cities.
+
+XXV. _Populonia:_ a town on the coast of Etruria. _Ilva_ (the modern
+Elba): an island off the coast of Etruria near Populonia.
+
+XXVII. Cinyras and Cupavo were sons of Cycnus. The legend tells us
+that Phaethon rashly attempted to drive the chariot of the sun, and
+was killed by a thunderbolt from Jupiter, while so doing. Cycnus,
+who was devotedly attached to him, was changed into a swan while
+lamenting his death.
+
+XXVIII. Mantua was Virgil's birthplace. Hence probably the insertion
+of this tradition as to its origin. Mincius, mentioned in the next
+stanza, is a Lombard river, the Mincio, and flows out from Lake
+Benacus (Lago di Garda).
+
+XXXVII. Sirius, the dog-star, whose rising was supposed to coincide
+with the hot weather, is always spoken of as bringing pestilence and
+trouble. The connection between Sirius and the hot weather was one
+of the conventions of poetry which the Augustan writers had borrowed
+from the Greeks.
+
+LXVII. The story referred to is that of the fifty daughters of Danaus,
+who were married to the fifty sons of Aegyptus, their cousins. Danaus
+ordered his daughters to murder their husbands on their wedding night,
+and they all obeyed except Hypermnestra, who loved her husband
+Lynceus, and so saved his life.
+
+LXXIII. Trivia here refers to Diana. Gradivus is an archaic Latin
+name for Mars.
+
+LXXVII. 'Mute Amyclae' was probably so called because the
+inhabitants had been forbidden, owing to false alarms, to speak of
+the approach of an enemy. But if Virgil is referring, not to the
+Amyclae near Naples, but to the original Amyclae in Laconia, then
+the proverbial taciturnity of those inhabiting the latter country
+offers sufficient explanation. _Aegeon_ was a monster with 100 arms
+and 50 heads. He is more often called Briareus.
+
+LXXIX. In the _Iliad_ Aeneas had been rescued from Diomedes and
+Achilles. Liger is taunting him with this.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK ELEVEN
+
+
+XXXI. _Iapygia_, a Greek name for the southern part of Apulia.
+
+_Garganus:_ name of a mountain in Apulia.
+
+See also note on Book X. stanza iv.
+
+XXXIII. The references in this stanza are (1) to the storm which
+Minerva (Pallas) raised when the Greeks set sail from Troy. (2) To
+the story of Nauplius, king of Euboea, who hung false lights over
+the headland of Caphareus, and so caused the wreck of the Greek fleet.
+
+XXXIV. 'Proteus' Pillars' means Egypt, and the stories of Menelaus,
+as also the adventures of Ulysses with the Cyclops, will be found
+in the _Odyssey_. For _Pyrrhus_ see note on Book III. stanza xliii.
+For _Idomeneus_, that on Book III. stanza xvii. Agamemnon was killed
+by his wife and her lover, when he returned home at the end of the
+Trojan war.
+
+XXXV. Calydon was the ancient home of Diomedes in Aetolia.
+
+LII. The Myrmidons were the followers of Achilles--Tydides is
+Diomedes. The _Aufidus_ is a river of Apulia.
+
+LXIX. Opis was a nymph of Diana (Latonia).
+
+LXXXIV. Virgil is comparing Camilla to the two famous Amazons,
+Hippolyte who was married to Theseus, and Penthesilea who fought for
+Troy and was slain by Achilles.
+
+CVIII. [Transcriber's note: The rhyme, the meter, and the sense of the
+phrase require a word here that is missing from the published text.
+Possibly "flight" or "sight" was intended by the translator.]
+
+
+
+
+NOTES TO BOOK TWELVE
+
+
+XI. Orithyia was the wife of Boreas the North Wind, who according
+to legend was the father of the royal horses of Troy.
+
+XXV. The two children of Latona were Apollo and Diana.
+
+XXIX. Camers was king of Amyclae. See note on Book X. stanza lxxvii.
+
+XLV. The story of Dolon is taken from the _Iliad_. He offered to spy
+upon the movements of the Greeks if Hector would give him the chariot
+and horses of Achilles. He was however captured and slain by Diomedes
+(Tydides).
+
+LII. 'Paeon': a name used of Apollo as the Healer.
+
+LXIX. 'Cupencus' was the name given by the Sabines to the priests
+of Hercules.
+
+XCI. _Athos:_ the mountain at the extreme end of the peninsula
+between Thrace and Thessaly. Mount Eryx is in the north-west of
+Sicily.
+
+XCIII. _Taburnus:_ a mountain in Samnium.
+
+_Sila:_ a range of mountains in the extreme south of Italy.
+
+
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