The Works of Virgil :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Works of Virgil

Translated into English Blank Verse. With large Explanatory Notes, and Critical Observations. By Joseph Trapp

Trapp, Joseph (1679-1747)

VOL. I.

II, III.

[VOLS. II & III.]

VIRGIL's ÆNEIS.

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II, III. [VOLS. II & III.]

------ Parnassia Laurus
Parva sub ingenti Matris se subjicit umbrâ.
Virg.

VIRGIL's ÆNEIS.

BOOK the First.

Arms, and the Man I sing, who first from Troy
Came to th'Italian, and Lavinian Shores,
Exil'd by Fate; Much toss'd on Land, and Sea,
By Pow'r Divine, and cruel Juno's Rage.
Much too in War he suffer'd; 'till he rear'd
A City, and to Latium brought his Gods:
Whence sprung the Latin Progeny, the Kings
Of Alba, and the Walls of Tow'ring Rome.

Say, Muse, the Cause; What God had he provok'd?
Or wherefore did the angry Queen of Heav'n
Involve a Hero fam'd for Piety
In such a Round of Toils, such various Woe?

Dwells so much Passion in Celestial Minds?

Fronting th'Italian Coast, and Tyber's Mouth,
But far remote, an ancient City stood,
Carthage its Name, a Colony of Tyre,
Mighty in Wealth, and rough in study'd War.
This, above all, was Juno's darling Seat,
Ev'n more than Samos lov'd; Here lay her Arms,
And Chariot: This ev'n Then, would Fate permit,
For Universal Empire she design'd.
But she had heard a Race from Trojan Blood
Descended, should o'erturn her Tyrian Tow'rs;
A People ruling wide, and proud in War,
Should ravage Libya: So the Fates decreed.
This fear'd Saturnia, bearing still in Mind

The late, long War, which first she wag'd at Troy,
For her own Argos, and her Fav'rite Greeks.
Nor were as yet the Causes of her Rage,
And keen Resentments, by her restless Soul
Forgotten; Deep within her Bosom lay
The Judgment giv'n by Paris, and th'Affront
Of her scorn'd Beauty; The detested Race,
And ravish'd Ganymede, so high advanc'd.
By These Incentives fir'd, from Latium far
She drove the Trojans, Relicks of the Greeks,

And merciless Achilles, o'er the Sea
Dispers'd; And urg'd by Fate, for many Years,
They wander'd all th'extended Ocean round:
So vast the Work to raise the Roman State!

Scarce losing Sight of Sicily, with Joy
They spred their Canvass; and with brazen Beaks

Plough'd the salt Foam: When Juno, in her Breast
Vindictive feeding an eternal Wound,
Thus with herself. And must I then desist

Baffled? Nor can I back from Latium turn
This Trojan Prince? Belike, the Fates forbid.
Could Pallas drown the Greeks, and burn their Fleet,
For Ajax' Frenzy? For the Guilt of One?
She, darting from the Clouds Jove's rapid Fire,
Scatter'd their Ships, and rous'd the Sea with Winds:
Him from his Breast expiring sulph'rous Flames
She hurry'd in a Whirlwind, and transfix'd
Upon a pointed Rock. But I, the Queen
Of Gods, the Sister, and the Wife of Jove,
With This one Race so many Years make War:
And who will Juno's Deity adore
Henceforth? Or Honour on my Altars lay?

Such Thoughts revolving in her fiery Breast
Alone, the Goddess to Æolia comes,

The Land of Storms; where struggling Gusts of Air
Engender: Here, in his capacious Cave,
Great Æolus with absolute Command
Controuls, imprisons, and confines in Chains
The noisy Tempests, and reluctant Winds.
They roar, and murmur round the Mountain's sides,
Indignant: Æolus his Scepter shakes,
Majestick on his lofty Throne, o'er-rules
Their wild Desires, and moderates their Rage.
Which did he not, with rapid Force they'd hurl
Heav'n, Earth, and Seas, and sweep them thro' the Air.

But fearing This, the Sov'reign of the Gods
Pent them in gloomy Caves, and o'er them threw
Vast Piles of massy Rocks; impos'd a King,
Who should by certain Measures know to curb,
Or, when commanded, to indulge their Rage.

To whom then Juno Thus in suppliant Words
Her Suit address'd. O Æolus, (for Thee
The Sire of Gods and King of Men impow'rs
To smooth the Waves, or raise them with the Wind;)
A Race my Foe steers o'er the Tuscan Sea,
Transporting Ilium, and their vanquish'd Gods
To Italy: Add Fury to thy Winds;
O'erwhelm in Ocean, or disperse their Fleet;
And scatter all their Bodies o'er the Main.
Twice sev'n bright Nymphs I have; of whom to Thee

The fairest Deiopeia I will bind
In Wedlock firm, and consecrate her Thine:
Who, all her Days, such Merit shall reward;
And make thee Parent of a beauteous Race.

To whom the Monarch of the Winds reply'd.
Be it your Care, illustrious Queen, to think
What to command; my Task is to obey.
You This my Kingdom, and Jove's Favour give;
You raise me to the Banquets of the Gods;
And o'er These Storms and Tempests make me Lord.

Thus having spoke, He turn'd his Spear; and push'd
The hollow Mountain's side: Out rush the Winds,

Thronging, where way they find; with giddy Whirls
Scour o'er the Lands, and then with Fury fall
Upon the Sea: East, South, and stormy West,
Together, from its lowest Caverns rouse
The Deep; and roll vast Billows to the Shore.
Cracking of Cordage, and the Cries of Men

Succeed: By sudden Clouds the Heav'ns and Day
Are ravish'd from the Trojans' Eyes; Dun Night
Lies hov'ring o'er the Sea: Loud Thunder rocks
The Poles; The Sky with nimble Lightning glares;
And ev'ry Object threatens present Death.

Æneas shudders, seiz'd with chilling Fear;
Deeply he groans, lifts both his Hands to Heav'n,
And Thus expostulates. Thrice happy They,
Who chanc'd to die beneath Troy's lofty Walls,
Before their Parents' Eyes! O Diomede,
Thou bravest Chief of all the Grecian Race;
Why could not I, in Trojan Fields, by Thee
Breath out This Soul? Where by Achilles' Spear
Stern Hector, where the great Sarpedon fell:
Where Simois in his rapid Torrent rolls
So many warriour Bodies, Helms, and Shields.

Thus while he spoke; the Tempest from the North,
Loud roaring, struck across his Sails, and toss'd

The Billows to the Stars: The Oars are stav'd;
The Prow inclines, and on the Surges lays
Its side; a Mountain-Heap of Waves succeeds.
On a high Surge These hang; to Those the Deep
Yawning discloses Earth between the Waves:
The boiling Tide ferments among the Sands.
Three Notus, whirling, drives on hidden Rocks,
Rocks in mid Sea, which Latins Altars call,
A mighty Ridge of Stone above the Waves;
Three Eurus from the Ocean (dreadful Sight!)
Urges on Shelves, and Syrtes; There they stick
Upon the Flats, inclos'd with Banks of Sand.
One, which the Lycians, and Orontes bore,
From Prow to Stern a mighty Billow strikes,
Before his Eyes: The Master, swept from Deck,
Rolls headlong; Her the circling Eddy thrice

Works round, and swallows in the rapid Gulf.
Scatter'd, and floating on the vast Abyss,
Men, Arms, and Planks, and Trojan Wealth appear.
Now Those strong Ships, in which Ilioneus,
And Abas, and the brave Achates sail'd,
And old Alethes, by the Storm subdu'd,
Shatter'd, and leaking with disjointed Ribs,
At gaping Chinks admit the hostile Flood.

Mean-while the Noise and Tumult of the Main
Neptune perceives; the Bottom of the Deep
Turn'd upwards; and the Storm's licentious Rage.
Highly provok'd, and careful for his Realms,
Above the Waves, serene, he rears his Head;
He sees the Trojan Fleet o'er all the Sea
Dispers'd; Æneas, and his Ships o'erpow'r'd
With Surges, and the Ruin of the Sky.
Nor were his Sister's Wiles, and Hate unknown:

East, and West Winds he hails; and then proceeds.
From your high Birth does This Presumption rise?
And dare you thus, without my Sov'reign Leave,
Mix Earth, and Heav'n, and such vast Billows raise?
Whom I—But first 'tis fit we should compose
The troubled Ocean: For your next Offence
A more severe Correction you shall find.
Hence, fly; and bear this Message to your King:
To Me, not Him, the Empire of the Main,
And awful Trident fell: Huge rocky Caves
Are his Dominions; Eurus, your Abodes:
Proud in That Palace Æolus may reign;
But bid him bar the Prison of his Winds.

So spoke the God; and sooner than He spoke,
Appeas'd the Tossing of the Waves, dispell'd
The Clouds collected, and restor'd the Sun.
Cymothoe too, and Triton join their Strength

To clear the Vessels from the pointed Rock:
Himself his Trident plys, to heave them off,
Levels the Banks of Sand, and calms the Sea,
And with light Wheels o'er the smooth Surface rides.
As when Sedition oft in populous Towns
Is rais'd, and fierce th'ignoble Vulgar storm;
Now Stones, and Firebrands fly; Rage Arms supplies:
If chance they then espy a Sage, rever'd
For Piety, and Worth; All silent stand,
List'ning with Ears attentive: With his Words
He rules their Passion, and their Heat allays.
So all the Hurry of the Ocean ceas'd,
Soon as its God appear'd above the Waves;
Who, managing his Steeds in Air serene,
Flys swift with slacken'd Reins, and loose Carrier.

The weary Trojans strive with speed to gain
The nearest Shore, and stand for Libya's Coast.
There lies an Harbour in a long Recess:
An Island forms it with opposing Sides;

'Gainst which the Water from the Ocean breaks,
And cuts itself into a winding Bay.
On each side, mighty Rocks; Above the rest
Two threaten Heav'n; beneath whose Brows the Sea
In safety sleeps: A trembling silvan Scene
Hangs from the Top, imbrown'd with gloomy Shade.
Full opposite, a Cave with pendant Rocks;
Within, fresh Springs, and Seats of living Stone,
The Naiads' Grot: The weary Vessels here
No Cable holds, nor biting Anchor moors.
Hither Æneas turns, from all his Fleet
Sev'n Ships collecting; and with Love of Land
Eager, the Trojans gain the welcome Shore,
And rest their brine-drench'd Limbs upon the Beach.

Here first from Flints Achates struck a Spark;
Inclos'd the Fire in Leaves, and round it pil'd
Dry Fuel; and blew up the sudden Flame.

Then, tir'd with Toil, Provision marr'd and dank,
And Instruments of Ceres they produce;
Corn rescu'd from the Wreck they then prepare
To grind with Stones, and bake upon the Fire.

Mean-while Æneas climbs a Rock, and all
The Prospect o'er the spacious Main commands;
If Antheus, or the Phrygian Gallies there,
Toss'd by the Wind, or Capys he might spy,
Or on the lofty Deck Caicus' Arms.
No Sail in view; Three Stags upon the Shore
Wand'ring he sees: Them follow'd all the Herd
Behind, and browzing stray'd along the Vales.
Stopping, he snatch'd his Arrows swift of flight,
And Bow, the Weapons which Achates bore;
And first the Leaders, bearing high their Heads
With branching Horns, upon the Ground extends.
The Vulgar next with undistinguish'd Shafts
He wounds, among the leafy Woods; nor ceas'd,
'Till on the Turf sev'n lofty Deer he laid,
The number of his Vessels. To the Port
He then returns, and with his gen'ral Crew
The Booty shares: Wine laid on Board in Casks,
Which, at their Parting, on Sicilia's Shore,
The good Acestes gave, he then divides;
And with These Words revives their drooping Cheer.

O Friends, (for long experienc'd in Distress
We suffer) greater Ills you have sustain'd;
To These a Period will be fix'd by Heav'n.

You Scylla's Rage, and dreadful sounding Rocks
Have safe approach'd, and seen the Cyclops' Caves:
Recall your Courage, banish anxious Fear;
These Dangers too perhaps in future Times
With Joy we shall revolve. Thro' various Toils,
Thro' all These Hazards we to Latium steer;
There Destiny will peaceful Mansions give,
And there Troy's Kingdom is allow'd to rise.
Endure; reserve yourselves for better Fate.

Thus He, tho' lab'ring with prodigious Woe,
Yet smooths his Looks; and with dissembled Hope

Deep burys huge Affliction in his Breast.
They to their future Feast themselves address,
Flea off the Skins, and lay the Entrails bare;
Some cut them into Joints, and spit the Limbs
Yet quiv'ring; Some place Cauldrons on the Shore,
And kindled Fires apply: With plenteous Meal
They then resume their Strength; and on the Grass,
Fill'd with old Wine, and well-fed Ven'son, lie.
Their Hunger now appeas'd, with long Discourse
Next for their lost Companions they enquire;
Doubtful 'twixt Hope, and Fear, if yet they liv'd,
Or bore the last Extremes, nor heard the Call
Of Friends invoking their departed Ghosts.
Above the rest, the pious Trojan Prince
Now brave Orontes with himself bewails;
Now Amycus, and Lycus' cruel Fate,
And Gyas, and Cloanthus, valiant Chiefs.

Now all was ended; when Imperial Jove
Surveying, from the Summit of the Sky,

The navigable Seas, and low laid Earth,
And Shores, and Nations wide, on Heav'n's high Tow'r,
Stood, and on Libya's Kingdoms fix'd his Eyes.
To Him, such Cares revolving in his Breast,
Sad Venus, her bright Eyes all drown'd in Tears,

Suppliant applies. O Thou, whose Sov'reign Pow'r
Controuls th'Affairs of Men, and Gods, with Rule
Eternal; and with Thunder awes; 'Gainst You
What Crime so great could my Æneas act,
Or what the Trojans? By so many Deaths
Destroy'd, for Latium's sake must they be barr'd
From all the World beside? You promis'd sure,
That, in the Course of rolling Years, from Them
The Romans should descend, and Leaders sprung
From Teucer's Blood restor'd; who Land and Sea
With universal Empire should possess:
Why, Sov'reign Father, is your Purpose chang'd?
Sooth'd by That Hope, I soften'd the harsh Doom
Of ruin'd Troy, and ballanc'd Fates with Fates.
Now the same Fortune persecutes them still,
Long toss'd by such variety of Storms:

What End, great Monarch, shall their Labours find?
Antenor, from amidst the Greeks escap'd,
Could penetrate th'Illyrian Bay, and reach
Liburnia's inmost Realms, and safe o'er-pass
Timavus' Head; whence thro' Nine Mouths he rolls,
(The Mountain murm'ring loud) himself a Sea,
And with a roaring Deluge drowns the Fields.
Yet Padua here He built, a Seat of Troy,
New nam'd the Nation, fix'd his Trojan Arms;
Now rests secure, compos'd in pleasing Peace.
We your own Race, by you advanc'd to Heav'n,
Losing our Vessels, for the Spight of One,
(Unworthy Treatment!) are betray'd, and driv'n
Far from th'Italian Coasts. Is Virtue Thus
Rewarded? Are our Sceptres Thus restor'd?

Smiling on Her, the Sire of Men and Gods,

With That smooth Look which clears the stormy Sky,
His Daughter gently kiss'd, and Thus reply'd.

Fear not my Cytherea; Still remain
Your Trojans Fates unmov'd: You shall behold
That City, and Lavinium's promis'd Walls;
And brave Æneas to the Stars of Heav'n
Shall raise aloft: Nor is my Purpose chang'd.
He (for, because This Care disturbs your Breast,
The Scheme of Fate's dark Volumes I'll unfold)
In Italy shall wage a mighty War,
Make stubborn Nations bend beneath his Arms,
And Walls, and Manners to the Vanquish'd give.

Three Years entire in Latium he shall reign;
The curb'd Rutulians yielding to his Sway.
But young Ascanius, now Iülus call'd,
(Ilus he was, when Ilium's Empire stood)
Twice fifteen Suns, shall govern; and transfer
The Kingdom from Lavinium's Seat, and found
Long Alba with prodigious Strength secur'd.
Here full three hundred Years th'Hectorean Race
Sov'reign shall wield the Sceptre; 'till at last
Ilia the Royal Priestess, big by Mars,
A twin Birth shall disclose: Hence Romulus,
Nurs'd by a Wolf, and in her tawny Hide
Exulting, shall succeed to rule the State,
Form a new Nation, build Mavortian Walls;
And, from Himself, the Name of Romans give.
To These I fix no Bounds of Place, or Time,
But endless Empire grant: Ev'n She, who now
Embroils with anxious Fear Heav'n, Earth, and Seas,
Ev'n sullen Juno then shall bend her Thoughts
To better Counsels, and with me promote
Rome's lordly Sons, the Nation of the Gown.
So 'tis decreed: An Age in circling Months
Shall come, when old Assaracus's Race
Phthia, and fam'd Mycenæ shall enslave,
And absolute o'er conquer'd Argos reign.

Cæsar from Troy's illustrious Blood shall rise;
The Sea shall bound his Empire, Heav'n his Fame:
Julius! a Name from great Iülus sprung!
Him laden with his Eastern Spoils in Heav'n
Secure you shall receive: Religious Vows
To Him shall be directed. Ages mild
Shall next succeed, and War no more be heard;
Then Faith, and Vesta, and Quirinus, join'd
With Remus, shall give Laws: Strong massy Bars,
And Bolts of solid Iron, fast shall close
War's dreadful Portals; Impious Rage within

Sitting on horrid Armour, and behind
Bound with an hundred brazen Knots, shall roar
With bloody Mouth, and foaming bite his Chains.

He said; and from the Sky sent Maia's Son,
That Libya's Harbour, and new Carthage Gates
Might open to the Trojans; left in Fate
Dido unskill'd, should drive them from her Coasts.
He by the airy Steerage of his Wings
Shoots thro' the vast Expanse; and soon alighting
On Libya, executes great Jove's Commands.
The Tyrians, chang'd by Influence of the God,
Forget their native Fierceness: More than all,
Their Queen, to aid the Trojans well dispos'd,
Forms hospitable Thoughts, and kind Designs.

But good Æneas, various Cares all Night
Revolving, soon as cheerful Morn appears,
Resolves to walk abroad; and view the Coasts
Unknown; to seek what Natives it contain'd,
If Men, or Beasts; (for Desart all he sees)
And to his Friends relate the Facts explor'd.
His Navy in the Covert of the Woods
He hides retir'd, beneath a hollow Rock,
Fenc'd round with Trees, and gloomy Shade. Himself
Attended only by Achates goes,
Shaking two Jav'lins of broad-pointed Steel.

Whom in a Wood's Recess his Mother meets;
A Spartan Virgin's Mien, and Dress, and Arms
Dissembling, or Harpalyce of Thrace,
When Steeds she tires, and outstrips Hebrus' Stream.

For (Huntress like) she had on her Shoulders hung
A light, commodious Bow; and giv'n the Winds
To wanton in her Tresses: Bare her Knee;
And in a Knot her flowing Folds confin'd.
And first; Ho! Youths, inform me, if you saw
One of my Sisters wand'ring here, she cry'd,
Girt with a Quiver, and a Lynx's Skin,
And urging in loud Chace a foaming Boar.

Thus Venus spoke; and thus her Son reply'd.
None of your Sisters has been seen, or heard
By me: To you what Name shall I apply,
Celestial Maid? For heav'nly is your Face;
Nor speaks your Voice a Mortal: Sure some Goddess;
Diana? or a Nymph? Whoe'er you are,
To us be kind, and ease us of our Toils;
Instruct us on what Climate we are thrown:

Unknowing of th'Inhabitants, and Coasts,
We wander; hither driv'n by Winds and Waves:
Our Victims shall before your Altars fall.

Then Venus: I such Honour must refuse:
The Tyrian Virgins (Such This Country's Mode)
A Quiver wear; and high inclose their Legs
In purple Buskins. Punick Realms you see,
A Tyrian Colony, Agenor's Walls;
But Libyan Territories, and a Race
Rigid, and stern in War. Here Dido reigns,
Flying her Brother, and escap'd from Tyre.
Long is her Story; intricate her Wrongs:
But Thus in brief. Sichæus was her Lord;
Most wealthy in Phœnician Land, and lov'd
With mighty Passion by his hapless Bride.
Her Father, with the first connubial Rites
Espousing, gave her spotless to his Bed:
But on the Tyrian Throne her Brother sate,
Pygmalion, monstrous, and renown'd in Vice
Beyond all others whom fell Rage transports.

He with the Sword in secresy surpriz'd
Sichæus, and before his Altars slew,
Impious, and blinded with the Love of Gold,
Regardless of his Sister's Love; and long
Conceal'd the Fact; and, with Pretences vain
Dissembling, mock'd the pining Lover's Hopes.
But in a Dream, with Visage wond'rous pale,
The Ghost of her unbury'd Husband came;
The cruel Altars, and his wounded Breast,
And all the hidden Villany disclos'd:
Warn'd her to fly her Country; and, to aid
Her Flight, reveal'd a Treasure hid in Earth,
An unknown Mass of Silver, and of Gold.
Dido, o'ersway'd by This, provides for Flight;
Prepares her Friends: Some Malecontents combine,
All who abhor'd, or fear'd the Tyrant's Rage.
Ships, which by Chance lay ready, strait they seize,
And load with Gold; The greedy Monarch's Wealth
Is o'er the Sea convey'd: A Woman guides
The whole Affair. At last they hither came,

Where now Those strong and stately Walls you'll see,
And the high Turrets of new Carthage rise.
There so much Land they bought, as one Bull's Hide
Would compass; and the Name of Byrsa gave
In Mem'ry of the Deed. But in your Turn
At length inform me, Who, and Whence you are,
And Whither bound. To Her the Trojan Prince,
Deep groaning from the bottom of his Breast,
Reply'd: O Goddess, should I from the first
Original trace my Story, and had you
Leisure to hear the Annals of our Woes;
Ev'ning would close the Day, e'er all were told.
We from old Troy, if haply such a Name
Has reach'd your Ears, thro' various Seas are toss'd,
And now by Tempest thrown on Libya's Shore.
I am the good Æneas, known by Fame
Above the Heav'ns; who rescu'd from the Foe,
And carry in my Fleet, our Country Gods.
The Land I seek, is Italy; and Jove
The Author of my Birth. With twenty Ships
I stem'd the Phrygian Sea; My promis'd Fates,

And Goddess Mother were my Guides: Scarce sev'n
Escap'd from Storms remain; My self unknown,
And indigent, o'er Libya's Desarts rove,
At once from Europe, and from Asia bar'd.

Venus, no longer bearing his Complaint,
Thus interrupts his Grief. Whoe'er you are,
The Pow'rs Divine, I think, are not your Foes;
Since at the Tyrian City you're arriv'd.
But go, and to the Queen your self present.
For that your Fleet, and Friends, by changing Winds,
Are safe, with Knowledge I pronounce; unless
My Parents taught me Augury in vain.
See These twelve Swans, how they with joyful Clang

Now flock Triumphant; whom the Bird of Jove,
Stooping from his ethereal Seat, dispers'd
In open Air: Now in long Row they seem
To chuse their Ground, or having chos'n it, view
The Place with surer Ken: As These return'd
On sounding Pinions play, and in a Throng
Surround the Pole, and sing along the Sky;
So all your Vessels, and your absent Friends,
Now ride in Harbour; or with swelling Sails
Steer full into the Channel: But proceed,
And, as That Path directs, pursue your Way.

She said; And, as she turn'd, her rosy Neck
Shone bright; Her Hair a Fragrancy divine
Ambrosial breath'd; Down flows her waving Robe,
And by her Walk the Goddess moves confess'd.
He, when he knew his Mother, with such Sounds
Pursu'd her, as she fled: And why so oft
With borrow'd Shapes do You too mock your Son,
Ah! cruel? Why is it deny'd to join
Our Hands, and real Accents hear, and speak?

Complaining Thus, he to the Town proceeds.
But Venus, as they went, around them threw
A cloudy Mantle, made of Air condens'd;
That unmolested they might pass, unseen,
And none with Questions interrupt their Haste.

Her self to Paphos goes sublime, and pleas'd
Visits her Seat; where sacred to her stands
A Temple; with Sabæan Incense smoke
An hundred Altars, and fresh Garlands breath.

They by the Path's direction urge their Way;
And now ascend the Hill, whose jutting Front
Hangs o'er the Town, and from above surveys,
It's adverse Tow'rs. Amaz'd Æneas stands
To see an ample City, where before
Low Cottages appear'd; and wond'ring views
The Gates, the Streets, and Hurry of the Place.
The Tyrians urge their Work; some raise the Walls,
Roll pond'rous Stones, and form the Cittadel:
Some mark out Ground for Houses with the Plough;
Laws, Judges, and an awful Senate chuse.
Others dig Ports; Some deep Foundations lay
For Theatres, and Pillars hew from Rocks,
The stately Ornaments of future Scenes.
Such Toil employs the Bees in Summer's Prime,

Amidst the flow'ry Fields, and sunny Air;
When they disburthen their o'erpeopled Realms,
Or work the liquid Sweets, and stretch their Cells
With luscious Nectar; or unlade their Friends
Returning; or in Troops beat off the Drones,
A lazy Cattle: Hot the Work proceeds,
And sweet with Thyme the fragrant Honey smells.
O happy These, whose Walls already rise!
Said the brave Prince, and looking up survey'd
The lofty Turrets: In a Cloud conceal'd
(Wond'rous to tell) he passes thro' the Midst,
And mingling with the Croud is seen by None.

Full in the Centre stood a shady Grove;
Where first the Tyrians, toss'd by Waves and Winds,
Digging, an Omen found, which Juno shew'd,
A sprightly Horse's Head: 'Twas hence foretold,
The Nation should thro' Ages be renown'd
For War, and Conquest. Here the Tyrian Queen

To Juno built a stately Temple, rich
With Gifts, and by the present Goddess bless'd.
To which on Steps the brazen Thresholds rose;
The Beams were bound with Brass; the brazen Doors
Jarr'd on their Hinges. First within This Grove
An unexpected Sight abates their Fear;
Here first Æneas Confidence resumes,
And better Hopes for his distress'd Affairs.
For while the spacious Temple he surveys
Curious, and waits the Coming of the Queen;
While he admires the Fortune of the Place,
The busy Lab'rers, and their mutual Toil:
The Trojan Battles he in order sees,

Wars spred by Fame already o'er the World:
Atrides, Priam, and severe to Both
Achilles. Fix'd he stood, and weeping cry'd,
What Place, Achates, in the Universe,
What Region now abounds not with our Woes?
See Priam; Virtue here has it's Reward;
Ev'n here Compassion reigns, and human Minds
Are touch'd with human Mis'ry: Banish Fear,
This Fame will give thee some Relief. He said;
And with an empty Picture fed his Soul,

Deep groaning, and o'erwhelm'd his Face with Tears.
For there he saw, how fighting round the Walls
Here fled the Greeks, the Trojan Youth pursu'd;
The Trojans there gave way; Achilles high
Plum'd in his Chariot rode, and urg'd their Flight.
Not far from hence, by snow-white Banners known,
The Tents of Rhesus weeping he beholds;
Which, in the first Repose by Night betray'd,
Tydides plunder'd, and with Slaughter fill'd,
And drove away the fiery Steeds, before
They tasted Trojan Grass, or Xanthus' Stream.
Here Troïlus in flight, depriv'd of Arms,
(Ill-fated Youth!) was by the Horses drawn,

Unequally with great Achilles match'd:
He to the empty Chariot clings supine,
Yet holds the Reins; His Head along the Ground
Is dragg'd: The Spear inverted scrawls the Dust.
Mean-while to unappeas'd Minerva's Fane
The Trojan Dames in sad Procession went,
Beating their Breasts, and with dishevel'd Hair;
And bore a Veil: She fix'd her Eyes on Earth,
Averse. Achilles round the Trojan Walls
Thrice Hector whirl'd, and sold his breathless Trunk.
Deeply He sigh'd; when he the Chariot saw,
The Spoils, and ev'n the Body of his Friend,
And Priam stretching out his suppliant Hands.
Himself he knew mix'd with the Grecian Chiefs;
The Eastern Troops; and swarthy Memmon's Arms.
Her Amazonian Files with lunar Shields
Penthesilea leads, and in the Midst
Of Thousands storms; Beneath her naked Pap
Her golden Belt she buckles, warlike Maid,
And, tho' a Virgin, dares engage with Men.

This while the Trojan Prince with wonder sees
Amaz'd, and in one Posture musing stands;
Up to the Temple moves the beauteous Queen,
Dido, surrounded with a Troop of Guards:

As on Eurotus' Banks, or Cynthus' Top,
Diana leads her Train; A thousand Nymphs
Enclose her round; Her self her Quiver bears
High on her Shoulder, and with stately-Walk
O'erlooks them all: A secret Pleasure slides
Along Latona's Breast. Such Dido was,

So smiling thro' the Croud she pass'd, intent
Upon their Labours, and her future Realms.
Then in the Entrance of the Dome, beneath
The Middle of the Temple's Arch, she sate,
Fenc'd round with Arms; and, on her Throne aloft
Leaning Majestick, to her Subjects gave
Commands, and Laws; and measur'd out their Tasks
In equal Portions; or by Lot assign'd.
When suddenly Æneas in the Croud

Antheus, Sergestus, and Cloanthus saw;
With other Trojans, whom the boist'rous Storm
Had toss'd at Sea, and driv'n on other Coasts.
Amaz'd himself, amaz'd Achates stood,
Eager, 'twixt Joy and Fear, to join their Hands;
But the unknown Event confounds their Thoughts.
They wait, and muffled in their Cloud, observe
The Fortune of their Friends; upon what Coast
They left the Fleet; and what should be the Cause
Of their Arrival: For from all the Ships
Some chosen came, imploring to be heard,
And with a Clamour to the Temple press'd.

Admission being gain'd, and Leave to speak;
Ilioneus, their Chief, with pleasing Grace
Began. O Queen, whom Jove impow'rs to build
This recent City, and with Laws to curb
Proud Nations; We, the poor Remains of Troy,
Driv'n thro' all Seas by Winds, implore you: Save

Our Vessels from inhospitable Fires:
Pity a pious Race; with nearer View
Consider our Affairs. We came not here,
To ravage with the Sword your Libyan Stores,
Or lade our Ships with Pillage from the Town;
Such hostile Force, such Insolence of Thought,
Ill suits, alas! the State of vanquish'd Men.
There is a Place by Greeks Hesperia call'd,
An ancient Land, renown'd in Arms, and rich
In fertil Glebe; th'Oenotrians once possess'd,
And till'd the Soil; the Moderns now, 'tis said,
Have from their Chief the Land Italia nam'd.
Hither we steer'd our Course:
When on a sudden, rising with a Storm,
Boistrous Orion drove us on the Flats,
And hidden Shelves; and with capricious Winds
Scatter'd us o'er the Waves, the foamy Deep,
And Rocks unpassable: We few escap'd
From Shipwreck to your Coasts. What Race of Men
Is This? What barb'rous Country, that permits
Such Customs? From the Refuge of the Strand
They drive us, offer War, and beat us back
From the first Shore. If Human Kind you scorn,
And mortal Arms; Expect, at least, the Gods

Will have a due Regard to Right, and Wrong.
Æneas was our Prince; than whom more just
Was none, nor more renown'd in War and Arms.
Whom if the Fates preserve; if vital Air
He breaths, nor mingles with the ruthless Shades;
No more of Fear: Nor shall you e'er repent
Of having first oblig'd: Sicilia too
Has Arms for Us, and Cities, and the King
Acestes, sprung from Troy's illustrious Blood.
Let us have Leave to draw our Fleet ashore,
Shatter'd by Winds; and from the Woods refit
Our Planks, and Oars: That joyful we may steer
To Latium; if 'tis giv'n us e'er to find
Our Prince, and Friends, and thither bend our Course.
But if, all Safety lost, the Libyan Waves
Thee, Father of the Trojans, have devour'd,
And no more Hope of young Iülus left;
We to Sicanian Seas, at least, and Seats
Prepar'd, from whence we're hither driv'n by Winds,
And to the King Acestes may repair.

So spake Ilioneus; the Trojans all
Murmur'd unanimous.
Dido with down-cast Looks in brief replies.
Trojans, dismiss your Doubts, seclude your Cares:
My difficult Affairs, and infant State

Force me to take such Measures, and secure
My Frontiers with a Guard: Th'Æneian Race
Who knows not, and the valiant Sons of Troy,
And wasteful Rage of so renown'd a War?
Not so obtuse are our Phœnician Breasts;
Nor rises Phœbus so averse from Tyre.
Whether for wide Hesperia, and the Fields
Of Saturn, you design; or Eryx' Coasts,
And King Acestes: I'll dismiss you safe
With my Assistance, and supply'd with Wealth.
Or would you settle in These Realms with Me?
Yours is my City; draw your Ships ashore:
Trojan, and Tyrian shall from me receive
Treatment alike. And I could wish your Prince,
Æneas too, were here himself arriv'd,
By the same Tempest driv'n: Nay, I will send
To search the Coasts of Libya, and explore

It's utmost Bounds; if haply, thrown on Land,
He in some Wood, or unknown City, strays.

Exalted by These Words, the Trojan Prince,
And brave Achates, eager long'd to burst
The Cloud; Achates first bespeaks the Prince.
What, Goddess-born, are now your Thoughts? And what
Do you resolve? All safe you see; our Fleet,
And Friends restor'd: One missing, whom ourselves
Saw drown'd: The rest confirms your Mother's Words.

He scarce had spoke; When strait the ambient Cloud
Dissolves itself, and rarifies to Air.
Confess'd Æneas stood; and shone in Light
Serene, in Shape and Features, like a God:
For Venus with the rosy Bloom of Youth
Had flush'd her Son, with graceful Locks adorn'd,
And breath'd a sparkling Lustre on his Eyes.
Such is the Beauty, which the Artist's Hand
To polish'd Iv'ry lends: So Silver shines,
Or Parian Stone, enchas'd in yellow Gold.
Then sudden, and surprizing All, he Thus
Bespeaks the Queen. Behold the Man you seek,

Trojan Æneas, sav'd from Libyan Waves.
O You, who only with Compassion see

Troy's endless Toils, receive us for Allies,
And in This City yield a safe Retreat
To Us, the Relicks of the Greeks fatigu'd
With all the Hazards of the Land, and Sea,
Of all things indigent: Due Thanks to pay
Is not in Us, nor whatsoe'er remains
Of Trojan Race dispers'd thro' all the World.
The Gods to you (if Virtue be their Care,
And any Justice yet remain) the Gods,
And your own Mind self-conscious of the Right,
Equal Rewards shall give. What Age so bless'd
Gave Birth to such a Princess? and from what
Illustrious, happy Parents are you sprung?
While Rivers seek the Sea, while Shades surround
The Mountains' Sides, while Ether feeds the Stars;

Your Honour, Name, and Praise shall ever live;
Me whate'er Soil invites. This said, he greets
With his Right hand Ilioneus his Friend,
Serestus with the Left; then all the rest;
Brave Gyas, and Cloanthus, valiant Chief.

Dido at first astonish'd at the Sight,
Then at th'Adventures of the wond'rous Man,
Thus speaks: What Fate pursues you, Goddess-born,
Thro' such Variety of Toils? What Pow'r
Drives you on barb'rous Coasts? Are You That fam'd
Æneas, whom on Phrygian Simois' Banks
Indulgent Venus to Anchises bore?
Nay I remember Teucer came to Sidon,
Driv'n from his Country, and new Kingdoms sought
By Belus' Aid: My Father Belus then
Wasted rich Cyprus, and, as Conqu'ror, rul'd,
Already from That Time I know the Fate
Of Troy, your Name, and all the Grecian Kings.
He, tho' a Foe, with lavish Praise extol'd
The Trojans, and would prove himself deriv'd
From Trojan Blood. Come on then, gallant Guests,
Enter my Palace: Toss'd thro' various Toils
Me the like Destiny at length decreed
To rest, and fix my Mansion in This Realm:
Acquainted with Misfortune, I have learn'd
To pity and to succour the Distress'd.

This said; She leads Æneas to her Court,
And to the Gods a Festival proclaims.

Meanwhile to all the Crew, on board his Ships
Which lay in Harbour, twenty Bulls she sends;
An hundred bristly Boars with spacious Chines;
An hundred fatted Lambs, with Ewes; and Wine,
Gift of the jolly God.
But with proud Pomp the inner Rooms of State
Are splendidly adorn'd; and Feasts prepar'd
In the mid Court: The purple Carpets wrought
With Art; The Tables groan with massy Plate,
And brave Exploits of warlike Ancestors
Emboss'd in Gold; a long successive Train
Of Actions, thro' so many Heroes drawn
From the first Founder of the Royal Race.

Æneas (for a Father's anxious Love
Permits him not to rest) Achates sends
Swift to the Ships, Ascanius to inform,
And bring him to the City: On his Son

All the fond Parent's Care is still employ'd.
Some Presents too, from Ilion's Ruins sav'd,
He bids him bring: a Robe all stiff with Gold,
And Figures: and a Mantle woven round
With saffron Foliage, Grecian Helen's Dress;
Which, from Mycenæ, when she came to Troy,
And unpermitted Hymenéal Rites,
She brought, her Mother Leda's wond'rous Gift:
A Sceptre too, which once Ilione,
The eldest Daughter of King Priam, bore:
A Necklace strung with Chains of orient Pearl:
And a Crown, doubly set with Gems, and Gold.
This to dispatch, away Achates flies.

But Venus in her Breast new Plots revolves,
Forms new Designs; that Cupid chang'd in Shape
Should go for sweet Ascanius, and with Gifts
Inflame the Queen; and with her Vitals blend
His Fires: For much she dreads th'ambiguous Race,
And double-talking Tyrians; Juno's Rage

Torments her; and with Night her Care returns.
To winged Love she therefore Thus applies.

My Son, my Strength, my mighty Pow'r alone;
My Son, who dost Typhæan Bolts defy
Of Jove Supreme; Thee suppliant I address,
Thy Deity implore. How round the Seas
Your Brother is by Juno's Malice toss'd,
You know; and oft have join'd your Tears with mine.
Him now Phœnician Dido entertains,
And sooths with Speeches bland; and much I fear
What Juno's Hospitality designs:
She in so great a Juncture will not rest.
Wherefore I have contriv'd to countermine
Their Projects, and involve the Queen in Flames;
That by no Pow'r she may be chang'd, but love
Æneas with a Fondness like my own.
This how thou may'st effect, receive my Thoughts.
The Royal Boy, my chief Concern, prepares
To go to Carthage at his Father's Call,
Bearing the Presents rescu'd from the Sea,
And Flames of Troy: Him lull'd to Sleep I'll hide
On high Cythera, or th'Idalian Hill,
In sacred Privacy; lest he should know
Our Fraud, or intervening marr the Plot.
Thou for one Night, no more, assume his Looks,

And take, thyself a Boy, his boyish Form.
That, when amidst the Royal Feasts, and Wine,
Dido shall hug thee on her Lap, and print
Sweet Kisses; unperceiv'd thou may'st inspire
Thy Flame, and slide thy Poison to her Heart.

The God, complying with his Mother's Will,
Throws off his Wings; and, joyful, trips along
In young Iülus' Step. Him Venus lulls
With dewy Sleep, and on her Bosom hush'd
Carries him to Idalia's lofty Groves;
Where blooming Jessamine around him breaths
With Flow'rs, in fragrant Shade. Now Cupid goes

Obsequious, with his Guide Achates pleas'd,
And bears the Royal Presents to the Court.

There when he came; upon the golden Couch,
Sumptuous with Tapestry, the Queen had plac'd
Herself, and in the Middle chose her Seat.
Now Prince Æneas, and the Trojan Youth
Advance; and feast, on crimson Beds repos'd.
Th'Attendants wait with Water for the Hands,
Distribute Bread from Canisters, and hold
Soft Towels. Fifty Handmaids wait within,
Dispose the Banquet in long order rang'd,
And burn rich Incense to the Houshold-Gods.
An hundred Maids besides, as many Youths,
Of equal Age, attend; who pile the Boards
With Dishes, and the Cups and Goblets place.
Nor less the Tyrians croud the joyful Court,
Invited on embroider'd Beds to feast.
The Presents of Æneas all admire;
Admire Iülus in the God disguis'd,
His glowing Looks, and well dissembled Words,
The Robe, and Veil with saffron Foliage wrought.
Chiefly th'unhappy Queen, to future Rage

Devoted, with insatiate Fondness burns,
And passionately gazes; with the Boy,
And with his Presents, equally inflam'd.
He, having hung upon Æneas' Neck,
And satisfy'd his fancy'd Father's Love,
Goes to the Queen: She fixes all her Sight,
And Soul upon him; sometimes on her Lap
Fonds him; nor thinks how great a God she bears.
He, mindful of his Mother, by degrees
Begins t'expunge Sichæus from her Breast;
And with a living Flame to prepossess
Her Heart, long liftless, and unus'd to Love.

The Banquet pausing, and the Meat remov'd;
Large massy Bowls they place, and crown the Wine.
Loud Noise succeeds; and thro' the ample Courts
They roll the Sound: In Sconces Tapers hang
Lighted from gilded Roofs; and Night retires,
O'erpower'd with blazing Flambeaus. Here the Queen
Calls for a Goblet, rough with Gems, and Gold,
(Which Belus us'd, and all the Kings from Him,)
And fills it up with Wine; then through the Court
Silence commands. O Jove, (for Thou art said
To fix the Laws of Hospitality)

Grant that This Day auspicious may be prov'd
To both the Colonies of Tyre, and Troy;
And by our late Posterity be known.
May Bacchus, God of Mirth, and Juno kind,
Be present here: And you my Tyrians join,
Well pleas'd, to celebrate the solemn Feast.

This said, she for Libation spills the Wine
Upon the Board: and first with gentle Touch
Salutes the Cup; which, hast'ning him, she gives
To Bitias: He with speed the frothy Bowl
Drinks off, and swills himself with the full Gold.
Then all the Lords: When curl'd Iöpas tun'd
His golden Lyre, and sung what Atlas taught;
The wand'ring Moon, the Labours of the Sun;
Whence Men, and Beasts, whence Rain, and Light'nings come,
The Constellations of the Northern Cars,
Arcturus, and the show'ry Hyades:
Why Suns, in Winter, haste so swift to tinge
Themselves in Ocean; and what Cause retards
The sluggish Nights. The Tyrians loud Acclaim

Redouble; and the Trojan Guests concur.
Mean-while th'unhappy Queen with various Talk
Protracts the Night; and, deeply drinking Love,
Of Priam much, of Hector much enquires:

Now with what Arms Aurora's Offspring came;
Now of Achilles, now of Diomede's Steeds.

Nay come, she said, and tell us, Princely Guest;
Ev'n from the first Original relate

The Grecian Wiles; the Fortunes of your Friends;
And your own Travels: For sev'n Summers now
Have seen you wand'ring o'er all Lands, and Seas.

The End of the First Book.

BOOK the Second.

All silent, list'ning sate; When Thus the Prince
Æneas from the lofty Couch began.
What you command, Great Queen, is to renew
Unutterable Woes; How Greece o'erturn'd
The Pow'r, and Realm deplorable of Troy:
Woes, which myself beheld; of which myself
Was one great Part. In op'ning such a Scene,
What Myrmidon, what Soldier in the Camp
Of dire Ulysses, could refrain from Tears?
And now the dewy Night is hast'ning swift
From Heav'n; and setting Stars persuade to Sleep.
But if you have such strong Desire to learn
Our great Misfortunes, and in brief to hear
Of Troy's last Pangs in Ruin: Tho' my Mind
Dreads the Remembrance, and shrinks back with Grief;
I will begin. The Leaders of the Greeks

Harrass'd with War, and by the Fates repuls'd,
So many rolling Years, an Horse erect
Of Mountain-Bulk, by Pallas' Art divine,
And joint the Ribs with Fir: This they pretend
A Vow for their Return; That Fame they spread.
Here in the hollow Sides some chosen Troops
They secretly inclose; and all the Womb,

And roomy Caverns with arm'd Soldiers fill.
In Sight lies Tenedos, an Isle renown'd
By Fame, and rich, while Priam's Kingdom stood;
Now but a Bay, and faithless Port for Ships.
Here, in the unregarded Shore, retir'd
They hide themselves; We strait suppose them gone,
And for Mycenæ fail'd before the Wind.
Therefore all Troy from long Restraint is freed;
Open are flung the Gates; and pleasant 'twas
To walk abroad, and view the Doric Camps,
The Posts abandon'd, and forsaken Shore.
Here lay the Dolopes, Achilles there;

Here rode the Fleet, and there the Troops engag'd.
Part, at Minerva's fatal Gift amaz'd,
Admire the Steed's prodigious Size; And first
(Whether by Fraud, or so the Fate of Troy
Requir'd) Thymætes moves to have it drawn
Within the Walls, and plac'd upon the Tow'r.
But Capys, and the more experienc'd Heads,
Persuade to plunge into the Sea, or burn,
The Grecian Treach'ry, and suspected Gifts;
At least to pierce the Timber, and explore
It's hollow Womb. The fickle Multitude
Vote Contradictions, and in Parts divide.
First, before all, surrounded with a Croud,
Laocoon, chafing, from the lofty Fort
Runs down, and Thus from far; What Frenzy blinds
My wretched Countrymen? Think you the Foes
Are gone? And Grecian Gifts can be sincere?

Thus is Ulysses known? Or in This Wood
Greeks are inclos'd; Or this Machine is form'd
Against our Ramparts, to inspect the Town,
And from above invade; Or some Design
There lies conceal'd: Ye Trojans, credit not
This Pile; Whate'er it be, I dread the Greeks,
Ev'n when They come with Presents in their Hands.

Thus having spoke, against the crooked Sides,
And jointed Belly, with prodigious Strength,
He whirl'd his mighty Spear: That quiv'ring stood;
A grumbling Sound came from within, and all
The hollow Caverns rattled at the Stroke.

And had not Fate, and our misguided Minds
Conspir'd; by his Advice our Steel had hewn
The Grecian Lurking-Dens: Thou, Troy, hadst Now
Been standing; and great Priam's Tow'rs entire.

Mean-while the Trojan Shepherds, shouting, drag'd
A Youth, with pinion'd Arms, before the King:
Who with Design had fall'n into their Hands,
Unknown; to manage the concerted Plot,
And open to the Greeks the Gates of Troy;
Bold to attempt, and on both sides prepar'd,

Either to meet Success, or certain Death.
Eager of such a Sight, the Trojan Youth
Flock round; and strive to make the Wretch their Sport.
Now hear the Grecian Wiles; and from the Guilt
Of One, learn All.
For in the Middle as he stood to View,
Confounded, and disarm'd; and all around
Survey'd the Trojan Troops; What Land, he cry'd,
Or Seas can now receive me? And what now
To wretched me remains? Who have no Place
Among the Greeks; The Trojans too incens'd
Demand to slake their Vengeance with my Blood.

By such pathetick Groans our Minds were chang'd;
All Fury ceas'd: We urge him to declare

His Birth, and Country; what Intelligence
He brought; what Hope in Bonds he entertain'd.

Reliev'd from Fear, at length he Thus proceeds,
All Things, O King, with Truth I will confess;
Nor will deny my self to be a Greek;
This first: For cruel Fortune, tho' she makes
Sinon a Wretch, shall never make him False.
If e'er the Name and Glory most renown'd
Of Palamede by Fame has reach'd your Ears;
Whom guiltless, and by forgery accus'd,
Because he spoke against the War, the Greeks
Condemn'd to Death, and now lament him dead:
Me, a close Friend to Him, and near in Blood,
My wealthless Father hither sent in Arms,
From my first Youth. While He in safety stood,
And prudent Counsels flourish'd in the State;
I too some share of Name and Credit bore.
But when by false Ulysses' envious Spight

(Things not unknown I speak) he left the World;
Afflicted, I consum'd my Days in Grief,
And sullen Privacy; and inly mourn'd
With Indignation for my guiltless Friend.
Nor could refrain (Fool that I was) from Talk;
And if a fit Occasion e'er was found,
If e'er with Conquest I return'd to Greece,
I vow'd Revenge; and with provoking Words
Exasp'rated his Malice. Hence my first
Of Ills: Ulysses scares me with new Crimes,
Scatters ambiguous Rumours thro' the Croud,
And conscious seeks fit Engines for my Fall.

Nor rested; 'till by Calchas' Ministry—
But why do I This nauseous Tale in vain
Revolve? Or why delay? Since all the Greeks
You equally regard; Enough is said:
Now take my Life; 'Tis what Ulysses wants,

And both th'Atridæ would rejoice to hear.

Eager we burn t'enquire, and know the Cause,
Unskill'd in Villany, and Grecian Arts:
He trembling, and with guileful Heart proceeds.
Oft have the Greeks desir'd t'abandon Troy,
To raise their Siege, and quit the tedious War,
Fatigu'd: And would They had: But oft the Sea
Tempestuous kept them back; and Southern Winds
Deter'd them. Chiefly, when this Timber-Steed
Was built; loud Storms roll'd rattling thro' the Sky.
In deep Suspense Eurypylus we send,
Instructed to consult the Delian God:
He from the Shrines This dreadful Answer brings.
With Blood, Ye Greeks, and with a Virgin slain
You sooth'd the Winds, when first you came to Troy;
With Blood you must procure a safe Return,

And by the Off'ring of a Grecian Life.
Soon as This Message reach'd the vulgar Ears,
Amazement seis'd on all; and chilling Dread
Ran thro' their Veins; whom Phœbus should demand,
Who should be doom'd to Death. Ulysses here
With Noise and Tumult to th'Assembly brings
The Prophet Calchas, urges him to tell
The Meaning of the Gods: And Many now
Fatal to me presag'd the Villain's Plot,
And silent saw th'Event. Ten days reserv'd,
And mute he stands; refusing with his Voice
To sentence any, or expose to Death.
'Till by Ulysses' Clamours scarce o'erpow'r'd,
At last by Compact he the silence breaks,
And Me declares the Victim: All assent;
And what Each fear'd would light upon himself,
All on the Ruin of one Wretch devolve.
And now the fatal Day was come; for me
The holy Ceremonies are prepar'd,
The season'd Cakes, and Fillets round my Head:
Death, I confess, I 'scap'd, and broke my Bonds;

And in a muddy Lake among the Reeds
Obscurely lurk'd by Night; 'till they should hoise
Their Sails, if haply such were their Design.
And now to me, forlorn, no Hope is left
Of e'er beholding my sweet Native Soil,
Or my dear Children, or my long'd-for Sire;
Whose forfeit Lives, perhaps, for my Escape,
They will demand; and expiate This Offence

By Their untimely Death. For which, by Heav'n,
By all the Gods, who witness to the Truth,
By all That Faith (if any such there be)
Which yet remains untainted in the World,
You suppliant I implore; commiserate
Such mighty Woes, commiserate a Wretch
Not meriting th'Afflictions he endures.

Mov'd by These Tears, we grant him Life; and first
Priam himself commands him to be freed
From his close Manacles, and cramping Chains.
Then Thus in friendly Words; Whoe'er Thou art,
Forget th'abandon'd Greeks; Thou shalt be Ours;
And answer true to what I now demand.
Why built they This prodigious Steed? What Aim?

Who is th'Inventer? What religious Vow
Is This they make? Or what Machine of War?

He said; The other furnish'd well with Fraud,
And Grecian Arts, upraises to the Stars
His Hands unmanacled; and Thus replies.
You, Ye eternal Fires, I here attest,
And your inviolable Deity;
Ye Swords, and Altars, which I 'scap'd; Ye Wreaths,
Which I, as Victim, wore: I now am free
To cancel all Engagements to the Greeks,
To hate them, and disclose whate'er they hide,
Oblig'd no longer by my Country's Laws.
Thou only keep thy Promise, and preserve,
O Troy, thy plighted Faith, Thy self preserv'd;
As I speak Truth, and make thee large Amends.

The only Hopes of Greece, since first the War
Commenc'd, depended on Minerva's Aid.
But since the Time, when Tydeus' impious Son,
And Ithacus, Artificer of Frauds,
Killing the Guards that watch'd the lofty Tow'r,
Dar'd from your hallow'd Temple to purloin
Minerva's fatal Image, and presum'd
With bloody Hands to touch her virgin Wreaths;
Our ebbing Hopes ran back, our Strength decay'd;
The Goddess in her Mind averse: Of which
Signs by undoubted Prodigies she gave.
Scarce was her Statue lodg'd within the Camp;
Her glaring Eye-balls flash'd with darted Flames,
Salt Sweat bedew'd her Limbs; and (strange to tell!)
Thrice, leaping from the Ground, she clash'd her Shield,
And shook her Lance. Immediately the Seer
Declares the Sea must be explor'd by Flight,
And Troy would never fall by Grecian Pow'rs;
Unless they bore fresh Auguries from Greece,

And brought the Goddess back, who o'er the Main
Was thither in their winding Ships convey'd.
Now that they sail for Greece, they furnish Arms,
And reconcile the Gods; Then, o'er the Sea
Returning, unexpected they will here
Arrive: So Calchas has dispos'd the Scheme.
In lieu of the Palladium, to appease
Th'offended Goddess, and That Crime attone;
This Figure, warn'd by Oracles, they rear'd.
Yet Calchas gave Command to build it huge
With jointed Oak, and raise it to the Sky;
Lest it should find admittance thro' the Gates,
And, drawn within the Walls of Troy, protect
The People by their old religious Rites.

For should you violate Minerva's Gift;
Then wide Destruction (rather may the Gods
Turn the dire Omen on Himself) would fall
On Priam's Empire, and the State of Troy.
But should it by your Hands be drawn within
Your City; Asia, of it self, would come
With pow'rful War to Pelopeian Walls,
And our Posterity Those Fates attend.

To such false Tales, and perjur'd Sinon's Art
We yield full Credit; by commanded Tears,
And Frauds, ensnar'd: Whom neither Diomede,
Nor fam'd Larissa's Hero could subdue,
Nor ten Years Conflict, nor a thousand Ships.

Here a Portent more dismal strikes our Sight,
And terrifies our unprovided Breasts.

Laocoon, Neptune's Priest by Lot assign'd,
With all the Pomp of solemn Sacrifice
A stately Bull before his Altars slew.
When lo! from Tenedos thro' the calm Deep
(With Horrour I relate) two dreadful Snakes,
With Orbs immense, incumbent on the Main
Together make to Shore: Whose Breasts erect
Among the Floods, and bloody-colour'd Crests
Stand high above the Waves: Their other Part,
Prone on the Billows, sweeps behind; and twists

Their spacious Backs in Spires: The frothy Sea
Roars, as they swim. And now they gain'd the Land,
(Their glaring Eyes distain'd with Blood, and Fire)
And lick'd their hissing Mouths with quiv'ring Tongues.
Pale at the sight we fly: Their sinuous Trains
They to Laocoon roll direct; and first
With dire Embrace about the little Limbs
Of his two Sons both Serpents curling round,
With cruel Fangs their tender Flesh devour.
Himself, with Arms advancing to their Help,
They next invade; and with prodigious Folds
Inclose him; now twice wreath'd about his Waist;
Their scaly Backs twice round his Neck convolv'd:
Their Heads and lofty Crests stand high in Air.
He labours with his Hands to tear the Knots,
(His Fillets with black Gore, and Poison smear'd)
And bellows hideously to Heav'n; as when
A Bull just wounded from the Altar flies,

And with his Neck eludes th'uncertain Axe.
But both the Serpents, sliding off, repair
To the high Fane, and stern Tritonia's Tow'r;
There lurk secure, beneath the Goddess' Feet,
And the round Concave of her bossy Shield.

A new Surprize, and Fear, 'till now unknown,
Runs thro' the trembling Breasts of All: And now
They say Laocoon's Crime had well deserv'd
His Fate; who durst profane the sacred Wood,
And hurl against it's Side his impious Spear.
All cry to draw the Steed within the Town,
And reconcile the Goddess.
We break the Ramparts, and a Gap disclose;
All to the Work addressing: Twisted Cords
About his Neck, and Wheels beneath his Feet
They fix: The dire Machine ascends our Walls,
Teeming with Arms; Boys, and unmarry'd Girls
Sing holy Metre round him, and rejoice
To touch the Cords: He still with threat'ning Nod
Slides on, and gains the Middle of the Town.

O Ilion! O my Country! Seat of Gods!
And You, Dardanian Walls, renown'd in War!
Four times ev'n in the Entrance fix'd he stood;
And four times Armour clatter'd in his Womb.
Yet thoughtless We push on; and blindly place
The fatal Monster on the sacred Tow'r.
Then too, obsequious to the God's Command,
Cassandra open'd her prophetick Mouth,
In vain, and fated ne'er to be believ'd.
We miserable, doom'd to see That Day
Our last, the sacred Turrets of the Gods
With festal Boughs, o'er all the City, crown.

Mean-while the Hemisphere rolls round, and Night
Swift rushes from the Sea; in dusky Shade

Involving Earth, and Heav'n, and Grecian Frauds.
The Trojans, scatter'd o'er the Walls, lie hush'd
In Silence; Sleep relieves their weary Limbs.
And now from Tenedos the Grecian Fleet
To the known Shores, with well-appointed Ships,

Sails, by the friendly Silence of the Moon;
The Royal Deck distinguish'd by it's Lights.
And now, protected by the partial Fates,
Sinon by stealth unlocks the Greeks inclos'd
In Timber-Caverns: Them to open Air
The Horse restores; and from his hollow Wood
The joyful Chiefs slide by a Rope let down;
Tisandrus, Sthenelus, and dire Ulysses,
Athamas, Thoas, Neoptolemus
Son of Achilles, and Machaon first,
And Menelaüs, and the Architect
Epëus, who the treach'rous Engine form'd.
They seize the Town, immers'd in Sleep, and Wine;
Kill all the Sentries; at the open'd Gates
Receive their conscious Troops, and join their Friends.

'Twas now the Season, when the first Repose,
Sweet Gift of Gods, on weary Mortals creeps:
Lo! in a Dream, before my slumb'ring Eyes
The much afflicted Hector seem'd to stand,
Profuse of Tears; drag'd with the Chariot's Wheels,
As heretofore; besmear'd with bloody Dust;
And thro' his swelling Feet transfix'd with Thongs.
Ah me! How was he from That Hector chang'd,
Who once return'd Triumphant in the Spoils
Of great Achilles; or who flung his Fire
Amidst the Grecian Vessels! Foul his Beard;
His Hair all clung, and clotted with his Blood:
And in his Body all the Wounds receiv'd
Before his Native Walls. I first began,
And weeping in These mournful Accents spoke.

O Thou, the Light, and certain Hope of Troy;
How, Hector, hast thou been detain'd? From whence
Com'st thou so long expected? How fatigu'd,
After such various Labours of the State,
And so much Slaughter of thy Countrymen,

Do we behold thee? What unworthy Hand
Has soil'd thy Face serene? Or why Those Wounds?

He no Reply to my vain Questions gave:
But with a dismal Groan, Ah! fly, he cry'd,
Fly, Goddess-born, and save thee from These Flames.
The Enemy has gain'd our Walls; and Troy
Is tumbling from it's Height. Enough is done
For Priam, and our Country: If any Hand
Could have sav'd Troy, by This she had been sav'd.
Her Gods, and her Religion she commends
To Thee; take These as Partners of thy Fates:
For These a City seek, which thou at last,
The Ocean having wander'd o'er, shalt build.

He said; And brought the Garlands from their Shrines,
Great Vesta's Image, and th'eternal Fire.

Mean-while, with Cries confus'd the Walls resound:
And tho' my Father's Palace fenc'd with Trees,

Stood from the Hurry of the Town retir'd;
The Noise grows loud, and th'undistinguish'd Din
Of clashing Arms rolls nearer. Rous'd from Sleep,
I gain the Summit of the high-built House;
And stand with list'ning Ears. As when a Flame
Invades a Field of Corn by driving Winds;
Or, rushing from the Hills, a rapid Flood
Lays flat the Product of the Plains, lays flat
The rising Crop, and Labours of the Plough,
And with a sweeping Torrent whirls the Woods;
On a high Rock the doubtful Peasant stands
Amaz'd, and in his Ear receives the Sound.
Now all the Truth appear'd, and Grecian Faith

Lay plain to View: Now vanquish'd by the Fire
Deiophobus' wide stately Palace falls
With noisy Ruin: Next Ucalegon
Blazes aloft; The broad Sigéan Sea
Glares with the Conflagration: Loudly sound
The Trumpets Clangor, and the Cries of Men.
Arms with mad Haste I snatch; tho' little Hope
There was from Arms: Yet eager glow'd my Mind
To form a Body for the Fight, and rush
Into the Cittadel among my Friends:
Anger and Rage precipitate my Soul,
And glorious 'twas, I thought, to die in Arms.

Lo! Pantheus, from the Grecian Darts escap'd,
Pantheus Otriades, Apollo's Priest,

Bears in his Hands the holy Utensils,
His little Grandson, and his vanquish'd Gods,
And runs, with pace distracted, to the Shore.
What Posture, Pantheus, has the main Affair?
What Castle do we seize? I scarce had spoke;
When groaning he reply'd. Our last of Days,
And Troy's inevitable Hour is come;
We Trojans have been, Ilium once has been,
And the long Glory of the Dardan Race:
To Argos cruel Jove has all transferr'd,
And Greece now domineers in flaming Troy.
The lofty Steed amidst the City pours
Arm'd Troops; and Sinon Conqu'ror scatters Fire,
Insulting: Others thro' the open'd Gates
Arrive by Thousands; a more num'rous Force
Than ever yet from great Mycenæ came.
Others with Arms the Passes of the Streets
Have seiz'd; Their Swords with glitt'ring Blades stand drawn,

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Thirsting for Blood: The first Guards of the Gates
Scarce try the Fight, and blind Resistance make.

By Pantheus' Words, and by the Gods inflam'd,
I hurry swift into the Fires, and Arms;
Where dire Erinnys, where the Tumult calls,
And the loud Noise ascending to the Sky.
Ripheus, and Iphitus renown'd in Arms,
And Hypanis, and Dymas, by the Moon,
Join me, and thick'ning gather to my Side.
And young Chorœbus, Mygdon's Son; who came
By chance in Those unhappy Days to Troy,
With Love unbounded for Cassandra fir'd;
And, as a Son-in-Law, Assistance brought
To Priam, and the Trojans: hapless Youth,
Who the Advice of his prophetick Spouse
Had not regarded.
Whom when I saw compacted, and resolv'd
For Fight; I thus begin. Brave Youths, but brave
In vain, if you are fix'd to follow me
Daring the worst; the Posture of Affairs
You see; The Gods, by whom This Kingdom stood,
Have all withdrawn from their abandon'd Shrines,
And left their Altars: You would yet assist

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The flaming City; let us die, and rush
Into the thickest Arms: To vanquish'd Men
The only Safety is to hope for None.

These Words add Rage to Courage: Thence like Wolves
Prouling in gloomy Shade, which Hunger blind
Urges along, while their forsaken Whelps
Expect them with dry Jaws; thro' Darts, thro' Foes
We march to certain Death, and take our way
Thro' the mid City: Night with dusky Shade
Involves us. Who the Horrour of That Night,
The Ruins and Confusion can express?
Or equal such prodigious Woes with Tears?
Down falls the ancient City, which so long

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Had proudly reign'd: Thro' Houses, thro' the Streets,
And Temples, sluggish Carcasses, around,
Lie, roll'd in Heaps: Nor do the Trojans bleed
Alone; The Vanquish'd in their Turn resume
Their Courage; and the conqu'ring Grecians fall.
A Scene of Slaughter ev'ry where appears,
And Terrour, and a thousand Shapes of Death.

First of the Greeks, surrounded with a Croud,
Androgeos meets us, thinking us his own
Associate Troops; and Thus familiar speaks.
Haste, Soldiers; What Delay retards your Arms?
Others divide, and ravage burning Troy:
Come you This Moment from your lofty Ships?
He said; And strait (for Answer was not giv'n

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So friendly as he thought) he found himself
Amidst his Foes: Surpriz'd with Fear he back
Recoil'd, and with his Speech repress'd his Steps.
Like One, who unawares in prickly Thorns
Has trod upon a Snake; and starting fled
Him rousing all his Venom, and with Rage
Heaving his speckled Neck. Androgeos so
Shudd'ring withdrew. We forwards rushing press,
And them, around inclos'd with clatt'ring Arms,
Unknowing of the place, and struck with Fear
We vanquish: Fortune crowns our first Attempt.

Flush'd with new Fire, and proud of his Success,
Chorœbus Thus advis'd. O Friends, the Way
To Conquest, which our first kind Fortune shews,
Let us pursue; and follow where she leads.
Our Habit let us change; and wear disguis'd
The Grecian Shields and Helmets: Who would ask
Whether 'twere Art, or Valour in a Foe?

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Themselves shall give us Arms. Thus having said,
Himself puts on the bossy burnish'd Shield,
And crested Helmet which Androgeos wore,
And buckles to his Side the Grecian Sword.
The same does Ripheus, Dymas next, then all
The Youth, exulting: With the recent Spoils
Each arms himself: Among the Greeks we march,
Mingled, with Gods not Ours: In gloomy Shades,
Obscure, by various Skirmishes we fight;
And many of the Greeks we send to Hell.
Some to their Ships retire, and flying seek
The faithful Shores: While, seiz'd with Coward Fear,
Others again ascend the monstrous Horse,
And in the well-known Belly lurk conceal'd.

All human Confidence, alas! is vain,
When Heav'n opposes. From Minerva's Shrines,
And Temple, lo! the Priameian Maid,
Cassandra, with dishevel'd Hair is drag'd,

105

Throwing in vain her glaring Eyes to Heav'n;
Her Eyes; for Bonds confin'd her tender Hands.
Enrag'd by Love to Madness, such a Sight
Chorœbus could not bear; but desp'rate flings
Himself into the Middle of the Foes:
We follow all, into the thickest Arms
Rushing. Here first from the high Temple's Top
Our Friends with Darts o'erwhelm us; Thence ensues
A dreadful Slaughter, by our Armour's Form,
And by the Error of our Grecian Plumes.
Then at the Rescue of the Royal Maid
The Greeks enrag'd, invade us; Ajax fierce,
Both the Atridæ, all the Dolopes,
Gath'ring from ev'ry Part. As when the Winds
Adverse in Hurricane abrupt engage,
Notus, and Zephyrus, and Eurus swift
Exulting with his Eastern Steeds: The Woods

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Roar loud; And Nereus with his Trident storms
Foamy, and from the Bottom stirs the Deep.
Those too, whom we by Stratagem dispers'd
In Night obscure, and drove thro' all the Town,
Appear; They first discern our borrow'd Arms,
And in our Speech the disagreeing Sounds.
Strait Multitudes o'erpow'r us: And before
Minerva's Altar, first Chorœbus falls,
Kill'd by Peneleus; Ripheus next, than whom
No Trojan was more just and good; tho' Heav'n
Decreed not so: Dymas, and Hypanis,
Stab'd by their Friends: Nor could thy Piety,
O Pantheus, nor the consecrated Wreaths
Of Phœbus, save thee from as hard a Fate.
You, Ye dear Ruins, and last Flames of Troy,
I call to witness; that I ne'er declin'd
The Greeks, nor shrink'd from Dangers in your Fall:
And had I been by Destiny decreed
To die; my Actions merited my Death.
Thence Iphitus, and Pelias, with Myself,
Were hurry'd: Iphitus infirm with Age,
And Pelias by a Wound Ulysses gave.

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Hence the loud Noise to Priam's Royal Seat
Calls us away: Here fierce the Battle burns;
So fierce, as if in other Parts no War
Were heard, no other Slaughter thro' the Town.
A Fight so obstinate we see; and Crouds
Of Greeks, beneath a Canopy of Shields,

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Thick rushing to the Palace; and the Gates
By Siege assaulted. Scaling-Ladders hang
Against the Walls: And by the Steps they strive
To gain the Doors; With their left Hands oppose
Their Shields to Storms of Arrows, with their right
Grasp at the Battlements. To Them adverse
The Trojans tumble Roofs, and Turrets down;
Seeing the worst, and in the last Extremes
Of Death, such Arms they use for their Defence;
Rolling down gilded Beams, the stately Pomp
Of Royal Ancestors: With Swords unsheath'd
Others stand thick below, and guard the Doors.
Fresh with recruited Rage, we fly to save
The Court, and re-inforce our fainting Friends.
There was an unregarded Postern Door,
'Twixt Priam's Palaces contiguous plac'd,
An Entry of a private Use; through which
Hapless Andromache, while Troy remain'd,
(Such was her Custom) unattended went,
To see the aged Royal Pair, and bring
Her young Astyanax to his Grandsire's Arms.

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Up to the highest Battlements I go;
From whence the miserable Trojans flung
Their unavailing Darts. There stood a Tow'r
Tall, and conspicuous; from the lofty Roof
Rais'd to the Stars: From whence all Troy we view'd,
The Grecian Navy, and the Grecian Camp.
This we encompass round; and with our Steel,
Just where th'extremest Planks disjointed gave

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Easiest Access, we rend it from on high
Push'd forward: Swift with Ruin, loud with Noise,
It thunders down, and on the Grecian Troops
With wide Destruction falls: But Others still
Succeed them; Nor do Stones, or any Kind
Of Weapons cease to fly.
In the first Portal, storming at the Door,
Pyrrhus exults; with Arms, and brazen Light
Refulgent. Like a Snake, in open Air;
Who all the Winter, fed with noxious Herbs,
And swoln with Poison, lurk'd in Earth, and there
Cast his old Skin; now glitt'ring, new with Scales,
And sleek in Youth, he rolls his slipp'ry Spires;
Erect against the Sun his burnish'd Breast
Uprears, and darts his quiv'ring forky Tongue.
With Him his Squire Automedon, who drove
Achilles' Steeds, great Periphas, and all
The Scyrian Youth advance; and to the Top
Hurl flaming Brands: Himself, before the rest,
Grasping a Battle-Axe, the stubborn Doors

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Bursts thro', and from their massy Hinges rends
The brazen Posts; Now, having hewn the Beams,
He splits their solid Timber, and a Gap
Discloses wide. Th'interior Court appears;
Long Gali'ries, Priam's Rooms of State, and all
Th'Imperial Pomp of ancient Kings they see,
And Sentries standing at the Doors in Arms.

But with confus'd Laments, the inner Rooms,
With Tumult, Noise, and wild Distraction, sound;
The echoing Palace rings with female Shrieks,
And the shrill Clamour beats the golden Stars.
From place to place the trembling Matrons run,
Thro' the vast Court; and cling, and hug, and kiss
The Pillars: Pyrrhus with his Father's Fire
Still pushes on; Nor can the Bars, or Guards
Sustain his Fury: To the batt'ring Rams
The Gate gives way; And from their Hinges torn
The solid Posts lie flat. A spacious Breach
Is made; The thronging Greeks break in; then kill
The first they meet; and with arm'd Soldiers croud
The rich Apartments. With less rapid Force
A foamy River, when th'opposing Dams
Are broken down, rolls rushing o'er the Plain,
And sweeping whirls the Cattle with their Folds.

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These Eyes saw Pyrrhus raging, smear'd with Gore,
And both th'Atridæ in the Entrance storm;
Amidst an hundred Daughters saw the Queen;
And Priam, on the Altars, with his Blood
Pollute Those hallow'd Fires, which he himself
Had consecrated. Fifty Bridal-Rooms,
(So great their Hopes of num'rous future Heirs)
The Posts with Trophies, and Barbarick Gold
Magnificent, lay smoking on the Ground;
Where the Flames fail, the Greeks supply their place.

Perhaps for Priam's Fate you will enquire.
He, when he saw the captive City's Fall,
His Gates torn off their Hinges, and the Foe
Within his Palace, Armour long disus'd,
With vain Attempt, upon his Shoulders hangs,

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Trembling with feeble Age; and to his Side
Girds an unprofitable Sword: then flings
Himself, resolv'd to die, among the Foes.
Just in the Centre of the Court, beneath
The open Sky, a spacious Altar stood;
Near it an ancient Laurel, hanging o'er
The sacred Hearth, and cov'ring with it's Shade
The Houshold-Gods. Here Hecuba, and all
Her Daughters, like a Flock of trembling Doves
Driv'n by a Tempest, vainly round the Shrines,
Clinging, embrac'd the Statues of the Gods.
But when in youthful Arms she saw the King;
What desp'rate Rage, she cry'd, what Frenzy moves
My wretched Husband to be harness'd Thus?
Or whither wouldst thou? Not such Aid as Thine,
Nor such Defenders does the Time require;
Not, tho' my Hector's self were here in Arms.
But come; This Altar shall protect us All:

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At least we will be join'd in Death. This said,
She to her self receiv'd the aged King,
And plac'd him trembling in the sacred Seat.

When lo! Polites, one of Priam's Sons,
By slaught'ring Pyrrhus press'd, thro' Darts, thro' Foes,
Gazing about, runs round the spacious Court,
And wounded thro' the winding Cloysters flies.
Him, ardent, threat'ning with a mortal Dart,
Pyrrhus pursues; just ready with his Hand
To seize him, and discharge the deadly Blow.
At length, arriv'd before his Parents' Eyes,
He fell; and, welt'ring in a Flood of Gore,
Pour'd out his Soul. Here Priam, tho' beset
With Death on ev'ry side, could not refrain;
But Thus indulg'd his Rage. For Crimes like These,
So bold, and monstrous, may the righteous Gods
(If Heav'n has any Justice, that regards
Such Outrages) reward thee, as thy Deeds
Deserve; who thus hast forc'd me to behold
The Murder of my Son, and with his Blood,
Barbarian! couldst pollute a Father's Sight.
Not so Achilles, whom with lying Vaunt
Thou call'st Thy Father; he not so behav'd
To Priam his Foe: But rev'rencing the Rights,

115

And Faith of Suppliants, Hector's Corps restor'd
To Burial; and dismiss'd me to my Realms.

So spake the aged Sire; And feebly flung,
Without a Wound, an unperforming Dart:
Which, by the Target's sounding Brass repuls'd,
Hung on the Surface of it's bossy Orb.
To whom Thus Pyrrhus. Thou shalt then relate
Such Crimes; and bear This Message to my Sire
Achilles; Him remember to inform
Of my foul Deeds, and his degen'rate Boy:
Now die. Then drags him to the sacred Hearth,
Trembling, and sliding, on the slipp'ry Ground,
In his Son's Blood; and, twisting in his Hair
His Left hand, with the Right his glitt'ring Sword
Deep to the Hilt he plunges in his Side.
Such was the End of Priam's Fates; the last
Concluding Scene, which Destiny decreed
To Asia's Lord; once o'er so many Realms,
And Nations, Sov'reign Monarch; having seen
His Troy in Flames, and tumbling to the Ground:
Upon the Shore the Royal Body lies
Expos'd; the Head from off the Shoulders torn;
A Trunk dishonour'd, and without a Name.

Here Horrour first surrounded me. Amaz'd

116

I stood; My Father's Image to my Mind
It self presented; when I saw the King,
In Age his Equal, by a barb'rous Wound
Expiring: To my Thoughts at once recurr'd
My dear Creüsa left at home, my House
Expos'd to Plunder, and th'impending Fate
Of young Iülus. Round I look'd, to see
What Force was near: All harrass'd out were gone;
Some leaping to the Ground; Some, spent and sick
With Toil, had flung themselves into the Flames.

Now I alone remain'd; When in the Porch

117

Of Vesta's Temple, Helen I behold
Silent, and lurking in the sacred Seat.
The glaring Conflagration, as I rove,

118

And throw my Eyes around, affords me Light.
There She, the common Pest of Greece, and Troy,
Fearing the Trojans for their City's Fall
Incens'd, the just Resentments of the Greeks,
And her abandon'd Husband's Rage, conceal'd
Her self, and skulking on the Altars sate

119

The curst Incendiary. Within my Breast
Glow'd furious Fires, inflam'd me to revenge
My ruin'd Country, and due Punishment
Inflict on Crimes. Shall then This Sorc'ress safe
Visit Mycenæ, and her Native Soil?
Shall she, a Queen, in pompous Triumph ride,

120

Her Consort, Parents, House, and Children see,
Surrounded with our Captive Trojan Dames:
While Priam by the Sword expires, Troy burns,
The Dardan Shore so often sweats with Blood?
Not so: For tho' a Woman's Death affords
No Glory, nor does Fame the Conquest crown;
At least the Praise of having eas'd the World
Of such a Trait'ress shall be Mine; I'll take
Due Vengeance: 'Twill be some Relief, to glut
My Rage, and with a Sacrifice so just
The Manes of my Country to appease.

Such Passions tossing in my stormy Breast,
I hurry forward: When to Sight reveal'd
My heav'nly Parent, never seen before
So clearly, to my Eyes her self presents,

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Confess'd a Goddess: Thro' the dusky Shades
She shone in Light serene; Such, and as great
As she appears in Heav'n. My Arm she grasp'd;
And, as she held me, from her rosy Mouth
These Accents fell. What fierce Resentment boils
Thy untam'd Rage, my Son, to such a height?
Why do'st thou storm? Or whither is thy Care
For Us withdrawn? Will you not rather think,
Where 'twas you left your aged Father, where
Your Wife Creüsa; whether yet She lives,
And young Ascanius? Whom the Grecian Troops
All hover round; And, did not my Concern
Prevent, the fiery Tempest had e'er this
Consum'd them, or the hostile Sword devour'd.
'Tis not Tyndarian Helen's hated Form,
Nor much blam'd Paris; Heav'n, inclement Heav'n
O'erturns This Realm, and levels Tow'ring Troy.
Behold, (for I'll remove That dewy Mist,

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Which dulls thy Sight, and dims thy mortal Eyes;
Suspect not thou my Precepts, nor refuse,
Diffiding, to obey thy Mother's Words:)
Here, where you see That Rubbish, Heaps confus'd,
Stones wrench'd from Stones, and thick redounding Smoke
Blended with Clouds of Dust; great Neptune shakes
The Walls, and with his massy Trident heaves
The City from it's deep Foundations. There
Relentless Juno, girt with Steel, has seiz'd
The Scæan Gates; and, raging, from their Ships
Calls her confed'rate Forces.
Next, (That way bend thy Eyes) the lofty Tow'rs
Tritonian Pallas has possess'd; There sits,
With her dire Gorgon, in a beamy Cloud,
Effulgent. Jove himself the Grecian Troops

123

With Courage, and new Strength supplies; Himself
Excites the Gods against the Dardan Arms.
Escape by Flight, my Son, and end thy Toil;
I always will be present to thy Aid,
And place thee safe within thy Father's Walls.
She said; and in th'involving Shades retir'd:
The direful Shapes appear, and Foes to Troy
Forms of the awful Gods.
All Ilium now I saw among the Fires
Sinking lie flat; and from it's Bottom turn'd
Down falls Neptunian Troy. As when an Ashe
Aged, and tall, is on the Mountains hewn
By Rusticks; who in emulation strive
With Strokes of Axes, and repeated Steel
To overturn it: Oft it nods, and shakes
It's leafy Top; still tott'ring, 'till at length
Subdu'd by Wounds, it groans it's last, and torn
From the high Ridge with cumb'rous Ruin falls.
Conducted by the Godhead I descend;

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Dispatch'd, by her Protection, thro' the Flames,
And Foes: The Darts give way, the Flames retire.

But when I came within my Father's Walls;
He, whom I first propos'd, and first desir'd
Up the high Mountains to convey, refus'd,
After the Sack of Troy, to save his Life,
And suffer Exile. You, he cry'd, whose Blood
Runs vigorous in youthful Veins, do You

125

Secure yourselves by Flight.
Me did the Gods permit to live, This Seat
They would have left me: 'Tis enough, and more,
That I have seen one Ruin, and surviv'd
The captive City. Thus, O! Thus of Me
Take your Farewel; and leave This lifeless Corps.
With my own Hand myself may find a Death:
The Foe will pity me, and hither come
For Spoils: The Ceremony of a Grave
Is easily dispens'd with: Long abhorr'd

126

By Heav'n, and useless to the World, I drag
A wretched Being; since with Light'ning's Flash
Jove blasted me, and sing'd me with his Fire.

He said; and in his Purpose persever'd:
We, on the other side, dissolv'd in Tears,
My Wife Creüsa, young Ascanius, all
The Family, intreat him not to urge
The Ruin of Himself, and Us; nor sink
Beneath the Load of Fate. He still denies,
And obstinately resolute persists.
Again I rush to Arms, and desp'rate wish
My Death: For now what Fortune could I try?
What Measures take? Could you, my Father, think
I would remove from hence, and leave You here?
Thus could you wrong my Filial Piety?

127

If Heav'n decrees that nothing shall remain
Of so renown'd a City; and your Will
Stands fix'd to add yourself, and all your Friends
To falling Troy: The Means of such a Death
Are obvious. Reeking fresh with Priam's Blood,
Pyrrhus will soon be here; who slew the Son
Before his Father's Eyes, the Father's self
Before his Altars. Was it then for This,
Celestial Parent, that you brought me safe
Thro' Flames, and Jav'lins; that I might behold
Th'insulting Foe within our Palace-Walls,
Ascanius, and my Father, and my dear
Creüsa, butcher'd in each other's Blood?
Arms, Arms, my Friends; Tho' vanquish'd, This last Day
Calls us to Arms: Give me the Greeks again;
Off; let me go: I'll see the Fight renew'd;
This Day we will not All die unreveng'd.

Once more I gird on Arms, refit my Shield
To my left Hand, and rushing seek the Door.
When lo! Creüsa in the Entrance clasp'd
My Feet, there clinging close; and to his Sire
Held out my young Iülus: If you go
To die, take Us with you in all Extremes:
Or if you yet have any Hope conceiv'd
In taking Arms; defend This Mansion first;
In which your Father, and your little Son
Are left, and I who once was call'd your Wife.

Shrieking she spoke; and with her shrill Laments
Fill'd all the Palace: When a Prodigy
Sudden, and wond'rous to relate, appear'd.
For as before his weeping Parents Eyes

128

He stood, between our Hands; lo! from the Head
Of young Iülus, rose a glimm'ring Flame;
Harmless with gentle Touch it glided o'er
His Hair, and lambent round his Temples fed.
Trembling with Fear, we brush the burning Locks;
And Water bring, to quench the sacred Fire.
But old Anchises joyful lifts his Eyes
To Heav'n, and stretches out his suppliant Hands.
Almighty Jove, if Thou by any Prayers
Art mov'd, this once behold us; and if aught
Our Piety deserves, afford us now
Thy Succour, and This Prodigy confirm.

He scarce had ended; With a sudden Crash
It thunder'd to the Left; and thro' the Shades
A falling Star from Heav'n with glaring Light
Glided along, and drew a Trail of Flame.
O'er the high Palace-Top we saw it run,
And hide itself within th'Idæan Grove,
Marking our Way; th'indented Path shines bright,
In a long Track; and Sulphur smokes around.

129

At This o'erpow'r'd, Anchises rose, the Gods
Invoking; and ador'd the sacred Star.
Now, now there's no Delay; where-e'er you lead,
I follow: You, our Country-Gods, preserve
This House, preserve my Grandson: These Portents
Are yours; and Troy subsists involv'd in You.
I yield, my Son; no longer I refuse
T'accompany your flight. He said; and now
The Fire more loudly roars; and from the Walls
The blazing Torrent nearer rolls the Flames.
Haste then, my Father; on my Shoulders lay
Your aged Body; I the Load will bear,
Nor think That Labour hard: Whatever Chance
Betides us; Both shall share one common Fate,
Escape together, or together fall.
Iülus close by me shall go; my Wife
Behind observe our Steps: You, Servants, mark
My Words with Care. Without the City stands,
On rising Ground, an old forsaken Fane

130

Of Ceres; and an ancient Cypress near,
By the Religion of our Ancestors
Preserv'd for Ages: There from diff'rent Parts
We all will meet in One. The holy Things
Take you, my Father, and our Country-Gods:
In me 'twere Guilt to touch them, just return'd
Recent from so much Slaughter, and besmear'd
With War; 'till in the living Stream I wash
The Blood away.
Thus having said, a Lion's tawny Hide
I o'er my Neck, and ample Shoulders throw,
And take my Burthen: Young Iülus links
His Hand in mine, and with unequal Steps
Runs by his Father's Side: My Wife behind
Follows: Thro' gloomy Shades we search our Way.
And me, whom just before no missile Darts,
Nor adverse Files of charging Greeks could move,
Now ev'ry Breath of Air, each ruffling Sound
Alarms, sollicitous for Him I led,

131

And Him I bore. Now near the Gates I came;
And thought all Dangers of the Way o'erpass'd;
When suddenly the Sound of trampling Feet
Approach'd our Ears: And, looking thro' the Shades,
My Father cry'd, Fly, fly, my Son; They come;
I see their burnish'd Brass, and glaring Shields.
Here some unfriendly Pow'r (I know not who)
Bereft me of my Reason, and disturb'd
My Mind: For as I shun'd the noted Streets,
And sought By-ways, and Passages unknown;
I lost my dear Creüsa: Whether snatch'd
By Fate, she stay'd, or straggled from the Way,
Or quite fatigu'd sate down to ease her Toil,
Is doubtful; But she never was restor'd,
Since that, to her unhappy Husband's Sight.
Nor did I once look back, or recollect
My Thoughts; 'till to the antiquated Dome
Of Ceres, and the sacred Seat we came:
There when we view'd our Number, she alone
Of all was wanting; and deceiv'd her Friends,
Her Son, and Husband. Raving with Distress,
Whom did I not accuse, of Gods, and Men?
Or what more cruel did I ever see
In sack'd, and burning Troy? My Father, Son,
And Country-Gods, committed to my Friends
I leave, and hide them in a winding Vale.
Back to the City I repair, and shine
In Steel; resolv'd all Dangers to renew,
Explore all Troy, and once more stake my Life.
First to the Walls, and Gates, thro' which I came,
In Darkness I return; with Care observe

132

My former Steps, and round me throw my Eyes
Horrour, and ev'n the dismal Silence, frights
My gloomy Thoughts. Thence Home I go, to see
If haply she had thither back repair'd:
Instead of Her, the thronging Greeks had seiz'd,
And fill'd the Palace: Strait devouring Flames
To the high Roof are hurl'd; a Storm of Fire
Rages aloft, and thunders in the Sky.
Next I revisit Priam's Royal Seat;
There, in the empty Iles of Juno's Fane,
Phœnix, and dire Ulysses, chosen Guards,
Watch o'er the Prey. There Trojan Treasure snatch'd
From burning Shrines, the Tables of the Gods,
Goblets of massy Gold, and captive Robes
Lie pil'd in Heaps; Children, and trembling Dames,
Rank'd in long Rows, stand round.
Advent'rous thro' the Shades to send my Voice,
I call aloud, and vainly fill the Streets
With Repetition of Creüsa's Name.
Thus as I search'd impatient o'er the Town,
With endless Labour; to my Eyes appear'd

133

Her pensive Ghost, my dear Creüsa's Shade,
A Form enlarg'd, and bigger than the Life.
Aghast I stood; uprose my Hair erect;
And to my Mouth my Speech with Horrour cleav'd.
At length she spoke, and Thus reliev'd my Cares.
Why, my dear Lord, do you so far indulge
Your restless Toil? Without the Pow'rs Divine
These Things are not dispos'd; nor is it giv'n
To you to carry your Creüsa's hence
Companion of your Voyage; 'Tis deny'd
By Him, the Sov'reign Monarch of the Skies.
You a long Exile shall explore, and plough
A wide Extent of Ocean; 'till at last
At rich Hesperia's Shore you shall arrive,
Where Lydian Tyber's gentle Train divides
The fertil Glebe: There wish'd Success, for you,
A Kingdom, and a Royal Consort wait.
Lament no more your lov'd Creüsa's Loss:
I never shall behold the proud Abodes
Of Myrmidons, or Dolopes; nor go
A Captive Servant to the Grecian Dames;
A Trojan Princess born, and, as your Wife,
Daughter to Venus,
But the Majestick Mother of the Gods
Detains me in these Coasts: Farewel; and love

134

Your Son, our common Care. Thus having spoke,
Me weeping, and a thousand Things to say
Desiring, she forsook, and vanish'd swift
Into the yielding Air. I thrice assay'd
About her Neck to throw my folding Arms:
Thrice, vainly grasp'd at, from their Circle flew
Th'unbody'd Fantom, light as fleeting Winds,
And like a slipp'ry Dream. The Night now spent,
To my Associates I at last return,
And find a Conflux of new Followers there,
Admiring at their Number; Matrons, Men,
With Youth assembled, and prepar'd for Flight,
(A wretched Vulgar!) From all Parts they came
Furnish'd with Arms, and Courage, and prepar'd
To share my Fortune; to whatever Coasts
My Conduct should transport them o'er the Seas.
Now Lucifer on Ida's Top arose,
And usher'd in the Day; the conqu'ring Greeks
Possess'd the Passes of the Gates; And now
No Hope of Aid was left us: I retire,
Bearing my Father, and ascend the Hill.

The End of the Second Book.

135

BOOK the Third.

141

When Asia's State, by Heav'n's severe Decree,
And Priam's guiltless Realm was laid in Dust;
Proud Ilion fall'n, and all Neptunian Troy
Smoking in Ruins: Warn'd by Oracles
To seek long Exile, and deserted Coasts,
Beneath Antandros' Walls, and Ida's Rocks

142

We build our Fleet, and muster all our Force;
Uncertain which way Fate would call, and where
Fix'd Mansions would be given us. Scarce begun
Was the first Summer; When Anchises gave
Command to hoise our Sails, and yield to Fate.
Weeping I leave my Country-Shores, the Ports,
And Fields where Troy had stood; and exil'd launch
Into the Deep; with all our Crew, my Son,
Our Country-Deities, and mightier Gods.

Sacred to Mars there lies a spacious Realm,
Till'd by the Thracians, and in former Times
Govern'd by stern Lycurgus; once to Troy
(While Fortune was) an hospitable Coast,
And Their protecting Gods ally'd to Ours.
Here I arrive; and on the winding Shore
Found my first Walls, by inauspicious Fates
Attempting; and the new Inhabitants

143

From my own Name Æneadæ I call.
To my Celestial Parent, and the Gods,
Conducters of my Enterprize, I paid
Religious Rites, and offer'd on the Shore
A shining Bull to Heav'n's Almighty King.
Near me, by chance, there stood a rising Ground,
And on it's Top a Grove of Cornel-Shrubs,
And Myrtle, horrid with thick pointed Spears.
Thither I went; and striving from the Mold
To pluck the branching Greens, with Boughs to shade
The new-built Altars, a portentous Sight
Dreadful and wond'rous to relate I saw.
For from That Plant, which first uprooted came,
Torn from the Soil, black Drops of Blood distill'd,
And stain'd the Ground with Gore; Me Horror chills
Shudd'ring, and Fear congeals my curdling Blood.
Again another Shrub I strive to rend
From Earth, t'explore the secret Cause: Again
Blood follows from the Bark. Much in my Thoughts
Revolving, I implore the Rural Nymphs,
And Mars, who o'er the Getic Fields presides,
The Omen to avert, and grant Success.
But when a third time more intent I strove,
Tugging, with Knees close press'd against the Sand;
(Shall I proceed, or stop?) a dismal Groan,
Resounding from the bottom of the Tomb,
Was heard; and to my Ears with Horrour came

144

These Accents. Why, Æneas, dost thou tear
My wretched Corps? Ah! spare me; nor pollute
Thy pious Hands with Guilt: Troy gave me Birth,
No Foreigner to Thee; Nor does This Blood
Flow from the Roots, and senseless Fibres: Fly,
Ah! fly These cruel Coasts, This greedy Shore.
For I am Polydore; an Iron Crop
Of Darts o'erwhelms me here transfix'd, and springs
In vegetable Jav'lins. Stun'd with Fear
I stood; up rose my Hair; and to my Mouth
My Speech with Terror cleav'd. This Polydore
The most unhappy Priam had long since,
In secret, with a pond'rous Mass of Gold,
Sent, to be nourish'd by the Thracian King;
When now, diffiding in his Arms, he saw
His City by the Foe beleaguer'd round.
The Thracian King, when all the Trojan Pow'rs
Were crush'd, and Heav'n had our distress'd Affairs
Abandon'd, closing with the Victor's Arms,
And Agamemnon's happier Fortune, breaks
All Faith, kills Polydore, and to his Wealth
Succeeds by Murder: To what dire Extremes
Wilt not Thou, execrable Thirst of Gold,
Urge mortal Breasts? Recover'd of my Fright,
First to my Father, then to all our chief
Selected Lords, the Prodigy I tell;
And ask their Resolution: All agree
Unanimous, to leave the barb'rous Coasts,
Polluted with inhospitable Crimes,
And spread our swelling Canvass to the Winds.
Therefore to Polydore we first perform

145

His Obsequies: A lofty Pile of Earth
Is rais'd; And Altars to the Manes built,
Mournful with fun'ral Wreaths, and gloomy Boughs
Of Cypress; With their Tresses scatter'd loose
(Such is th'accustom'd Rite) the Trojan Dames
Stand round; We offer Jars of tepid Milk,
And frothing Bowls of consecrated Blood;
Within the Grave compose his Soul to Rest,
Invoke him loud, and take our last Farewel.
Then soon as we might trust the Ocean's Face
With safety, and the Winds had smooth'd it's Waves,
Auster's soft Gales inviting to the Deep;
Our Crew their Vessels launch, and fill the Shore;
We leave the Port; and Land, and Towns retire.

A sacred Island in mid Sea there lies,
And now inhabited; above the rest
Lov'd by Ægæan Neptune, and the Goddess
The Mother of the Nereids; which of old
Unfix'd and wand'ring round the Coasts and Shores,

146

Pious Apollo with high Mycone,
And Gya'ros bound, gave it to be unmov'd
With firm Foundations, and defy the Winds.
Here I arrive; This hospitable Coast
In it's safe Harbour, to relieve our Toils,
Receives us. At our Landing, we adore
Apollo's City: Anius meets us here,
At once the King of Men, and Priest of Heav'n,
Apollo's Priest; with consecrated Wreaths,
And holy Laurel crown'd. He knows, and owns
His ancient Friend Anchises: Hands we join
In Amity, and to his Court proceed.
In the God's Temple built with aged Stone
I worship: Settled Mansions to us give,
Thymbræan God; Give us, fatigu'd with Toil,
Sure Walls, a Race, a lasting City: Save
This other Troy, These Relicks of the Greeks,
And merciless Achilles. Heav'nly Pow'r,
Whom do we follow? Whither shape our Course?
Where fix our Seat, by thy Command? Indulge
Some Augury, and slide into our Breasts.

I scarce had spoke; All seem'd to tremble round,
The Doors, the Laurel of the God, and all
The Mount: The Tripos groan'd, and open flew
The most retir'd Apartments. Prone we bend
To Earth; and to our Ears These Accents came.
Ye hardy Trojans, The same Land, which first
Gave Birth to your Forefathers, shall again
Receive you in it's fertil Bosom; Seek
Your ancient Mother: Here th'Æneïan Line,
All Years to come, shall rule with Sov'reign Sway,

147

And his Sons Sons, and all their future Race.

Thus Phœbus: Strait a mix'd, tumultuous Joy
Arises: All enquire what Walls were meant,
Which way the God directed us to steer
Our wand'ring Course, and whither to return.
My Father then revolving in his Mind
Ancient Records, Thus speaks: Ye Nobles, hear,
And learn your Hopes. The Isle of mighty Jove,
Crete, in the Middle of the Ocean lies:
There is th'Idæan Mountain, and the first
Originals of our Race. The Natives there
Possess'd an hundred Cities, wealthy Realms:
Hence our great Sire (if I remember right,)
Teucrus first landed on the Phrygian Coasts;

148

And for his Kingdom chose a Place: As yet
Ilium was not, nor stood the Trojan Tow'rs;
Th'Inhabitants in lowly Vallies liv'd.
Hence Cybele, the Mother of the Gods,
Protectress: Hence the Corybantian Brass,
And Ida's Grove; Hence Silence was observ'd
In sacred Rites; And Lions harness'd drew
Her Sov'reign Chariot. Let us then obey
The Gods' Commands, and follow where they lead;
Appease the Winds, and seek the Gnossian Coasts.
Nor is the Distance great; let Jove assist,
The third Day lands us on the Cretian Shores.

He said; and paid the Gods their Honours due;
A Bull to Neptune; and a Bull to Thee,
Beauteous Apollo; to the stormy Pow'r
A sable Ewe; a white one to the smooth
Propitious Zephyrs. Fame reporting flies,
That, exil'd from his Realms, the Grecian Chief
Idomeneus had left the Coasts of Crete;
And now the Towns, abandon'd by our Foes,
Stood empty. We forsake Ortygia's Ports,
And fly upon the Sea: Then sail along
By Naxos, fam'd for Bacchanalian Hills,
Olearos, Donysa ever green,
And snowy Paros, and the Cyclades

149

Dispers'd among the Waves, and Seas thick sown
With various little Isles. A Noise confus'd
Of Sailors rises; All exhort to stand
For Crete, and seek th'Original of Troy.
A Gale, behind our Stern fresh springing, speeds
Our Voyage: On the ancient Coasts of Crete
At length we safe arrive. With eager haste
I lay Foundations of the long'd-for Town,
Call it Pergamea, and exhort our Friends,
Pleas'd with their Colony's new Name, to love
Their Homes, and rear a Fortress for Defence.
Scarce did our Vessels, drawn within the Port,
Rest on dry Land; The Youth to Nuptial Rites
Themselves apply'd, and till'd the new-found Soil;
Laws I assign'd them, and their fix'd Abodes.
When suddenly a dire malignant Plague
From Air infected, and the mortal Year
Seises their Blood, and blasts the Trees, and Corn.
They render their sweet Souls, or faintly drag
Their Bodies; Sirius burns the barren Fields;
The Pastures wither; And the sickly Grain
Denies us Food. My Father gives Advice
Again to pass the Ocean, and return
To Phœbus, and Ortygia's sacred Dome,
T'implore the Favour of the God, to ask
What End our Toils should find; by his Command
Whence we should seek Relief, or whither steer.

'Twas Night; and Sleep possess'd the weary World.
Th'Effigies of our Trojan Country-Gods,
Whom from amidst the Fires of ruin'd Troy

150

I rescu'd, in my Sleep appear'd to stand
Before my Eyes; discover'd by the Light,
Where the full Moon profusely pour'd her Beams
Thro' the inserted Windows: Then they spoke,
And with such Words as These reliev'd my Cares.

What Phœbus at Ortygia would unfold,
Thither should you repair, he here reveals
Unask'd; and Us to your Apartment sends.
We, who accompany from ruin'd Troy

151

You, and your Arms, and pass the swelling Deep
Under your Conduct, we to Heav'n will raise
Your future Progeny, and Empire give:
For mighty Nations seek you mighty Walls,
Nor e'er decline your Travel's tedious Toil.
Your Mansion must be chang'd: The Delian God
Assign'd you not These Coasts, the Shores of Crete.
There is a Place, by Greeks Hesperia call'd,
An ancient Land, renown'd in Arms, and rich
In fertil Glebe: The Oenotrians once possess'd,
And till'd the Soil; The Moderns now, 'tis said,
Have from their Chief the Land Italia nam'd.
This is your destin'd Seat; Hence Dardanus,
Iäsius hence; And from That Prince our Race
Descended: Rise, and to your aged Sire
With Joy relate These certain Tidings; Seek
The Realms of Coritus, Ausonian Realms;
Great Jove denies you the Dictæan Fields.

Admonish'd thus by Vision of the Gods,
(Nor was it common Sleep; for plain I saw

152

Their Looks, their Forms, and Fillets of their Hair;
Then all my Limbs a clammy Sweat bedew'd:)
Eager I spring from Bed, and lift to Heav'n
My Hands with Pray'r, and on the holy Hearths

153

Offer pure Gifts. The Sacrifice perform'd;
Anchises joyful I acquaint, and all
In order tell. He, recollecting, owns
The double Parents, and ambiguous Race,
And his new Errour in the ancient Realms.
Then Thus: My Son, long exercis'd by Fate,
The Fate of Troy; To me These strange Events
None, but Cassandra, ever did foretel.
Now (I remember well) she oft pronounc'd
Those Kingdoms due to us; and often nam'd
Hesperia, and the Coasts of Italy.

154

But who would Then have thought the Trojan Race
Should ever at Hesperia's Shores arrive?
Or whom could Then by her prophetick Voice
Cassandra move? To Phœbus let us yield;
And better Measures, thus advis'd, pursue.
He said; we all with joyful Haste obey:
We leave a few behind; This Seat forsake;
Unfurl; and with our Vessels plough the Deep.

Now on the full extended Main, the Land
No more appear'd; but All was Sea, and Sky:
A dusky Cloud hung gather'd o'er my Head,
Bringing on Night, and Storm; Upon the Waves
Lay horrid Darkness: Boist'rous Winds confound
The rolling Sea, and mighty Billows rise.
We, scatter'd o'er the boundless Deep, are toss'd;
Tempests involve the Day; A Night of Rain
Obscures the Heav'ns: Repeated Light'nings flash
From bursting Clouds. We devious from our Course
Are driv'n; and wander o'er the darken'd Waves.
In the mid Sea, ev'n Palinure declares
Himself unable to distinguish Day
From Night, or know what Course we should pursue.

155

Three Days entire, uncertain of the Sun,
Darkling we rove; as many starless Nights:
On the fourth Morn scarce rising Land appears,
And distant Mountains op'ning roll the Smoke.
The Sails hang slack; our Crew with lab'ring Oars
Dash the curl'd Foam, and sweep the briny Waves.

The Islands Strophades receive me first
Sav'd from the Tempest: Strophades the Greeks
Have nam'd them; Islands in th'Ionian Sea,
Which dire Celæno, and her Sister Plagues
The other Harpies haunt; excluded Now
From Phineus' Court, and forc'd by Fear to leave
Their former Banquets. Monsters more abhorr'd,
And Pests more execrable, by the Wrath
Of Gods, ne'er issu'd from the Stygian Lake.
Bodies of Birds with female Faces join'd;
A filthy Flux of Entrails; Hands with Claws
Hooky; and Visages for ever pale
With Hunger.
When, hither driv'n, we anchor'd in the Port;
Herds of fat Kine we saw, and browzing Goats,
Without a Keeper, straying o'er the Fields.
We rush among them with our Steel, invite
The Gods, and Jove himself to share the Prey;
Then spread our Tables on the winding Shore,

156

And there repos'd on plenteous Banquets feast.
When on a sudden from the Mountains Tops,
With horrible Descent, the Harpies come,
And shake their clatt'ring Wings; They snatch the Meat
Rav'nous, and all with tainting Touch defile:
An odious Scream, and noisom Stench, at once
Offend us. In a long Recess, beneath
An hollow Rock, fenc'd all around with Trees,
And gloomy Shade, a second time we spread
Our Tables, and on Altars lay the Fire.
A second time the Brood with hooky Claws,
And noisy Pinions, from their Coverts flock,
And from a diff'rent Quarter of the Sky;
And poison all our Feast. I then command
The Soldiers to betake them to their Arms,
And wage a War with That detested Race.
Just as commanded, they obey; conceal
Their Swords along the Grass, and hide their Shields.
Soon as descending with a Noise they came
Down on the crooked Shores, Misenus gave
The Trumpet's Signal from a lofty Rock;
Our Friends invade them, and new Battle try
With Those Sea-Birds accurst: Upon their Plumes,
And Bodies, no Impression they receive,
Invulnerable; but beneath the Stars
Speed their swift Flight, and leave the loathsom Print
Of their foul Feet, and the half-eaten Prey.
On a high Cliff alone Celæno sate,

157

Unlucky Prophetess; and Thus she spoke.

War too, ye Offspring of Laomedon,
For slaughter'd Cattle, would you offer War?
And drive the harmless Harpies from their Realms?
Hear then, and in your Minds imprint my Words.
What Jove to Phœbus, Phœbus taught to Me,
The eldest Fury, I to You unfold.
For Italy you sail, and court the Winds;
At Italy you shall arrive, and there
Enter the Port: But never with it's Walls
Your fatal, promis'd City shall inclose;
'Till Famine dire, and Vengeance for our Wrongs
Force you for Food your Dishes to devour.

This said; with out-stretch'd Pinions back she flew
Into the Wood. Our Friends with sudden Fear
Are struck; Their Courage sinks, their Blood congeals:
And now no more of Arms; With Pray'rs, and Vows
They sue for Peace; whate'er Those Forms should prove,
Whether dire Goddesses, or Birds obscene.
But old Anchises, stretching from the Shore
His Hands, invokes the mighty Gods, devoting
Their Honours due: Ye Gods, forbid these Threats,
Avert such Ills, and save a pious Race.
He then commands to cut the twisted Cords,

158

And loose from Shore; the Southern Blasts extend
Our Sails; We fly upon the foaming Deep;
Which way soe'er our Pilot and the Winds
Direct our Course. And now amidst the Sea,
Woody Zacynthos to our Sight appears;
Dulichium, Same, Neritos with Rocks
Lofty: We fly the Cliffs of Ithaca,
Laertian Realms; and curse the native Soil
Of dire Ulysses. Next the cloudy Tops
Of Mount Leucate rise, and Phœbus' Fane
Dreaded by Mariners: We thither turn
Fatigu'd; and to the little Town proceed.
Our Anchors from the Prow are cast; The Sterns
Stand resting on the Shore. Beyond our hopes
Arriving here, we sacrifice to Jove;
And with the promis'd Fires his Altars blaze.
We celebrate upon the Actian Coasts
The Trojan Games: Our Friends along the Shore
With Trojan Wrestling exercise their Limbs
Naked, in slipp'ry Oil: They pleas'd reflect
On having pass'd so many Grecian Towns,
And steer'd the middle Course among our Foes.

159

Meanwhile the Sun rolls round the circling Year;
And icy Winter, harsh with Northern Winds,
Roughens the Sea: A Shield of hollow Brass
Which mighty Abas bore, upon the Posts
Adverse I fix; and This Inscription leave:
These Arms Æneas from the conqu'ring Greeks.
I then command our Crew to leave the Port,
And ply their Oars; With emulation fir'd
They dash the Sea, and sweep the briny Waves.
We soon lose Sight of high Phæacia's Tow'rs,
And coasting skim along Epirus' Shores;
Enter Chaonia's Harbour; and ascend
Buthrotus, lofty City. There a Fame
Of Things incredible surpriz'd our Ears;
That Trojan Helenus o'er Grecian Towns
Reign'd King, succeeding Pyrrhus; and possess'd
His Queen, and Throne: and that Andromache
Again was Consort to a Trojan Lord.
Amaz'd I burn with strong Desire, to greet
My Friend, and certain hear the strange Event.
I leave our Crew, our Navy, and the Port.
It chanc'd that then before the City's Walls,

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Close in a Grove, near fancy'd Simois' Stream,
Andromache the mournful Off'rings paid,
And solemn Sacrifice at Hector's Tomb,
His empty Tomb; which, with two Altars built

161

On the green Turf, th'Incentives of her Grief,
She consecrated; and with Tears invok'd
His Manes. Me as soon as she beheld

162

Advancing towards her, and round me saw
The Trojan Arms; confounded, and amaz'd,
She stiffen'd at the Sight, and fainting fell:
After long time, at length scarce, fault'ring, spoke.
Your true Appearance? Come you, Goddess born,
Real, t'inform me? Live you? Or, if dead,
Where's Hector? Drown'd in Tears she spoke, and fill'd
The Place with Shrieks. To her o'erpower'd, with pain
I speak, and in few Words perplex'd reply.
I live indeed; and thro' all Perils drag
My Being; Doubt it not; for all you see
Is real.
You, torn alas! from such a Lord, what Chance
Befalls? Or else what Fortune more deserv'd?

163

And are You then, Hector's Andromache,
Become the Spouse of Pyrrhus? Prone to Earth
She bent her Eyes, and with low Voice reply'd.

O! happy She, That Priameïan Maid,
Happy above the rest! who, doom'd to die
Beneath Troy's Walls, before an hostile Tomb,
Fell by no Lot to any Victor's Share;
Nor e'er ascended, as a Captive Queen,
His lordly Bed. I, toss'd thro' various Seas,
Far from my ruin'd Country, have endur'd
The haughty Achilléan Race, and bore
A Son in Servitude to That proud Youth;
Who afterwards, preferring in his Choice
Grecian Hermione, a Spartan Bride,
Transmitted me a Captive, to the Bed
Of Captive Helenus. But him, inflam'd
With Love, and Vengeance for his ravish'd Bride,
And wild with Guilt, Orestes unawares
Surpriz'd, and at his Country-Altars slew.
By Pyrrhus' Death the Kingdoms fell in part
Assign'd to Helenus; who all the Realms
From Trojan Chaon's Name Chaonia call'd,
And on These Mountains built the Trojan Tow'rs.
But You what Winds, what Fates have hither driv'n?
What God has brought you to our Coasts unknown?
How fares the young Ascanius? Does he live?

164

Does he yet live, and breath this vital Air?
Whom you, when Troy ------
Do's yet the Boy with Grief remember aught
Of his lost Mother? Does he, fir'd with Deeds
Of manly Virtue, copy out his Sire
Æneas, and his Uncle Hector's Fame?

Weeping she spoke; and long Laments in vain
Protracted: When the Priameïan Prince,
Helenus, from the Town attended came,
With numerous Retinue. Soon he knows,
And owns his Friends, and joyful to his Walls
Conducts them; interrupting, all the Way,
His Speech with mingled Tears. I go, and view
His little Troy, Resemblance of the Great;
View the dry Banks of new-nam'd Xanthus' Stream,
And hug the Lintels of the Scæan Gate.
Nor less the Trojans share the friendly Town:
Them in large stately Rooms the King receives;
In the mid Court they feast with Bowls of Wine,
With massy Plate, and Banquets serv'd in Gold.
And now two Days were pass'd; the Winds invite
Our Canvass, and extend the swelling Sails;
Thus to the Prophet I address my Pray'r.
Trojan Interpreter of Heav'n, whose Skill
The sacred Oracle of Phœbus knows,
His Tripos, and his Laurel-Wreath, the Stars,
The Tongues of Birds, and Omens of their Flight;
Instruct me: For the Gods propitious all
My Voyage taught; and all their sacred Shrines
Persuaded me to seek th'Italian Coasts,
And find the Realms reserv'd for me by Fate.

165

Only Celæno, Harpy dire, predicts
Strange Prodigy; and (horrible to tell!)
Denounces vengeful Wrath, and Famine, Plague
Obscene. What Perils must I first escape?
And by what means surmount such mighty Toils?
Here Helenus, performing first the Rite
Accustom'd, sacrificing Oxen slain,
Implores the Favour of the Gods, unbinds
The Fillets of his consecrated Head;
And me sollicitous, in deep suspense
Revolving various Oracles, he leads
Strait to Thy Dome, O Phœbus: Then the Priest
Divine Thus opens his prophetick Mouth.

O Goddess-born, (For that you stem the Deep
Under the Conduct of the mightier Pow'rs,
Is manifest; So stands the Purpose fix'd
Of Jove, and such the Scheme of Fate's Decree:)
Few, among many, Things I will disclose;
That safe you may explore These foreign Seas,
And in th'Ausonian Harbour safe arrive:
The Fates permit not Helenus to know
The rest; and Juno's Pow'r forbids to speak.
First, from th'Italian Ports, which you so near
Imagine, ignorant, a long Extent
Of Ocean, and a Voyage difficult
Divide you: First Trinacrian Waves must bend
Your Oars; Ausonian Seas must be explor'd,

166

Th'infernal Lakes, Ææan Circe's Isle;
E'er you on Land secure can found your Walls.
The Sign I will foretell; Keep you in Mind
What I disclose. When anxious for your Fate
You shall beneath the Willows, on the Shore,
Fast by the secret River's gliding Stream,
Find a white Sow, and round her Teats her Young
Of the same Colour, lying on the Ground,
Thirty in Number; That shall be the Place
To found your City; There your certain Rest
From Toils. Nor you the future Famine fear,
Nor Dishes for your Food: The Fates will find
A Way; and Phœbus, when invok'd, assist.
But These near Borders of th'Italian Coasts,
Which next to Us are bounded by our Seas,
Avoid: The Cities by the hostile Greeks
Are all inhabited. The Locrians here,
Narician Colony, have built their Walls;
And with an armed Force Salentum's Fields
Lyctian Idomeneus has there possess'd:
Here Philoctetes, Melibœan Chief,
Little Petilia with a Wall secures.
But when your Ships rest wasted o'er the Main;
And you on Altars rais'd along the Shore
Pay your vow'd Off'rings; with a purple Veil

167

Cover your Head: left any hostile Face
Appearing, should disturb the solemn Rites,
The holy Fires, and Honour of the Gods.
This Form in Sacrificing let your Friends
With You observe; and let your future Race
Pious in this Religion persevere.

But when the Wind shall to Sicilia's Coast
Direct your Course, and strait Pelorus shew
It's narrow Passage; by a Circuit wide
Veer to the Left, the Left to Land and Sea;
Avoid the Right of Both. These Lands, 'tis said,

168

(So great the Changes made by Tract of Time)
With Ruin vast, and mighty Force convuls'd
Asunder broke: When Both were join'd in one
Continuous, intermediate came the Sea
With Rage impetuous; and with rushing Waves
Tore all Hesperia from Sicilia's Shores,
And by a narrow Frith the Fields and Towns
Divided. Scylla guards the Right, the Left
Implacable Charybdis; which, with Gulf
Voracious, thrice sucks in the broken Tides;
Then spouts them high, disgorg'd, into the Air,
Alternate, and with Billows beats the Stars.
But Scylla, with dark Caverns round inclos'd,
Uprears her Head, and draws among her Rocks
The Vessels: Human is her upper Part,
A Virgin's beauteous Face, and beauteous Breast,
Her nether Shape a monstrous Pristis join'd
To Tails of Dolphins, and the Wombs of Wolves.
'Tis better to survey Trinacria's Bounds,
And coast Pachynus, and with Voyage wide
To steer a winding Course; than once to see
In her vast Cave huge Scylla's hideous Form,
And Rocks rebellowing with cerulean Dogs.

169

Besides; If Helenus has any Skill,
If any Faith, and if Apollo right
Inspires his Prophet; One thing, Goddess-born,
One thing, above the rest, I will advise,
And oft repeat it: With religious Pray'r
First Juno's Deity adore; to Her
Pay willing Sacrifices, and with Vows
Suppliant o'erpow'r the mighty Queen of Heav'n;
So, leaving Sicily, you shall at last
In Safety land upon th'Ausonian Shore.
When thither brought, you shall at Cumæ's Walls
Arrive, and entring see th'Avernian Lake,
The Lake Divine, resounding in the Woods;
A Prophetess you shall behold, with Rage
Enthusiastick, who beneath a Rock
Discloses Fate; and Characters, and Verse
Commits to Leaves. Whatever Lines on Leaves
The Virgin writes, she into Order just
Ranges, and lays them in her Grot secluse;
They in their Places rest unmov'd: But when,
The Door turn'd on it's Hinge, a Blast of Wind
Disturbs their Site; she never is concern'd

170

To catch them flying in her hollow Rock;
Never recalls them to their former Cells,
And marshals them no more: The Votaries
Depart untaught, and curse the Sibyl's Cave.
But let no Loss sustain'd by your Delay,
However great, deter you: Tho' your Friends
Impatient murmur, and the prosp'rous Gales
Invite your swelling Canvass; yet address
The holy Priestess, and with suppliant Pray'r
Intreat her to reveal your Fate by Speech,
By vocal Accents. She th'Inhabitants
Of Italy, and all your future Wars
Will teach, and how to suffer, or escape
Your ev'ry Labour: She, ador'd, will speed
Your Voyage. These are all the Things, which Fate
Permits my Voice t'inform you: Go, and raise
Great Troy, by deathless Actions, to the Stars.

Thus when the friendly Prophet had advis'd;
He gives Command to carry to our Ships
Presents of polish'd Iv'ry, pond'rous Gold,
And Dodonæan Cauldrons, massy Plate,
A Coat of Mail compact with Hooks, and all
With triple Tissue wrought; a Helmet's Cone
With nodding Crest, the Helmet Pyrrhus wore:
My Father too with Presents he adorns,
Adds Steeds, and Pilots;
Refits our Oars, supplies our Crew with Arms.
Mean-while Anchises gives Command to spread

171

Our Canvass, nor retard the willing Winds.
Him with much Honour Thus the Royal Priest
Bespeaks. Anchises, favour'd with the Bed
Of Venus, Darling of the Gods, and twice
Rescu'd from ruin'd Troy; Before your Eyes
Behold Ausonia; make it with your Sails:
Yet still your Fleet must cruise along Those Coasts;
Far distant is That Part of Italy,
Which by Apollo is disclos'd: Go, blest
In your Son's Piety; Why speak I more?
And with my Words delay the rising Winds?

Nor less Andromache, with sad Farewel,
Brings to Ascanius Robes all wrought in Gold
With various Colours, and a Phrygian Cloak;
Loads him with rich embroider'd Vestments, nought
Inferiour in her Presents: Then she speaks.
Thou too, dear Youth, These Labours of my Hands
Receive, which long may testify the Love
Of Hector's Wife Andromache; Accept
These, the last Presents which thy Friends can give:
O Thou! the sole, surviving Image left
Of my Astyanax! Just so he look'd!
Such were his Gestures! such his Eyes, and Hands!
And now his Age had bloom'd with equal Years.

These at our last Farewell I thus address,
With rising Tears: Live happy, You, whose Toils

172

Already are completed: We from Fate
To Fate are summon'd; You have found your Rest:
You have no Ocean's wide Extent to plough,
No Italy, still flying, to pursue.
Xanthus in Imag'ry you see, and Troy
Which your own Hands have made; with more Success,
I hope, and less obnoxious to the Greeks.
If ever Tyber, and it's neighb'ring Fields
I see, and Walls allotted us by Fate;
Epirus, and Hesperia, kindred Realms,
By the same Founder Dardanus ally'd,
Ally'd by Fortune, we in future Times
Will in Affections make one Troy; and That
Shall be the Care of all our future Race.

Close by Ceraunia's neighb'ring Coasts we sail;
From whence the nearest Passage o'er the Sea
To Italy. Mean-while the Sun declines,
And Ev'ning shades the Hills. Appointing Guards
By Lot to watch on Board, along the Shore
Upon the wish'd-for Land, we rest our Limbs,
And dewy Sleep relieves them. Nor as yet
Had Night, roll'd on by Hours, compleated half
It's Course: when Palinurus from his Bed
Rises industrious; all the Winds explores,

173

And in his Ear receives the Blasts; observes
The Stars all sliding in the silent Sky,
The rainy Hyades, and either Bear,
Arcturus, and Orion arm'd with Gold.
When all the Face of Heav'n he sees serene;
He gives the sounding Signal from his Ship:
We strike our Tents, and spread the Canvass Wings.

And now the Morning redden'd, and the Stars
Retreated; When at distance we beheld
The Hills obscure, and low Italian Plains.
Italia, first Achates crys aloud;
Italia all our Crew with joyful Shouts
Salute. Anchises then a Goblet crowns,
Fills it with Wine, and standing on the Deck
Aloft, invokes the Gods.
Ye Gods, Controulers of the Land, the Seas,
And Tempests; speed our Voyage by the Winds,
And breathe propitious. Strait the wish'd-for Gales
Swell fresh: The Harbour opens to our View
Now nearer; and Minerva's Temple high
Upon the Mountain rises to the Sight.
Our Crew contract their Sails, and make to Shore:
The Harbour Eastward bends into an Arch;
The Rocks foam, opposite, with dashing Waves;
Itself retires, and with a double Wall
The craggy Cliffs, rais'd high like Tow'rs, let down
Their Arms; And from the Shore the Temple flies.
Four Steeds (our first of Omens) here I saw
Of snow-white Colour, grazing on the Fields:
Then old Anchises; War, O foreign Land,
Thou dost denounce: These Steeds are arm'd for War.

174

But since accustom'd to the Rein they drew
The Chariot, and concordant Harness bore;
There still is Hope of Peace. We suppliant pray
To warlike Pallas; who receiv'd us first
Joyous; and here before the Altars wrap
Our Heads in Phrygian Veils: With solemn Rites
We then obey th'important Precepts giv'n
By Helenus; and, as by him advis'd,
To Grecian Juno pay the Honours due.
Our Vows religious orderly perform'd;
With quick Dispatch we shift our Sails, and leave
The Grecian Mansions, and suspected Fields.
Then next Tarentum's Bay is seen, renown'd
(If Fame be true) from Hercules: Oppos'd
To That, Lacinia's Temple rears it's Head;
And Caulon's Tow'rs; and Scylacæum fear'd
For Shipwrecks. Next, at distance, from the Main,
Trinacrian Ætna rises to our View;
The bellowing Sea, and beaten Rocks are heard
From far, and Noises breaking on the Shore:
The Shallows boil, and mix the Tide with Sand.
This is Charybdis, old Anchises crys;
These Helenus foretold, These dang'rous Rocks.
Veer off, my Friends; together ply your Oars.
Just as commanded, they obey; And first
The Fore-deck Palinurus to the Left

175

Turns round; Our gen'ral Crew with Oars, and Sails,
Make to the Left: High on a vaulted Wave
We mount to Heav'n; That sinking, down we fall,
Down to th'infernal Shades; Thrice roar'd the Rocks
Among their hollow Caverns; Thrice we saw
The dashing, broken Foam, and sprinkled Stars.

Mean-while, amidst our Toils, the Wind, and Sun
Forsake us; And, unknowing of our Course,
We drive upon the Cyclops' Coasts: The Port
Fenc'd by it's Situation from the Winds,
And large itself: But Ætna Thunders nigh

176

In dreadful Ruins. With a Whirlwind's force
Sometimes it throws to Heav'n a pitchy Cloud,
Redden'd with Cinders, and involv'd in Smoke;
And tosses Balls of Flame, and licks the Stars.

177

Sometimes with loud Explosion high it hurls
Vast Rocks, and Entrails from the Mountain torn;
With roaring Noise slings molten Stones in Air,
And boils, and bellows, from it's lowest Caves.

178

'Tis said, the Bulk of huge Enceladus
Blasted with Light'ning, by This pond'rous Mount
Is crush'd; and Ætna, o'er him whelm'd, expires
Flame from it's burst Volcano's: And whene'er
He shifts his weary Side, Trinacria all
Groans trembling, and with Smoke obscures the Sky.

Shelter'd in Woods, that Night we bore the strange
And monstrous Prodigies; nor saw from whence

179

Those Noises came: For neither did the Stars
Appear, nor Light in all th'Expanse of Heav'n:
But Clouds o'ercast the Sky; and Dead of Night
Confin'd the Moon in Darkness. Now the Day
Returning with the Morning-Star arose,
And from the Pole Aurora's Dawn dispell'd
The dewy Shades: When issuing from the Woods
A strange unusual Figure of a Man,
With Looks emaciated, and wretched Garb,
Makes to the Shore, and suppliant spreads his Hands.
We turn ourselves, to mark him; Hideous Filth,
A Length of Beard, and Garments tagg'd with Thorns;
But for the rest, a Greek; and sent to Troy

180

In Grecian Wars. When he at distance saw
The Trojan Habits, and the Trojan Arms;
He stop'd a-while, confounded at the Sight;
Then headlong to the Shore, with Tears, and Pray'rs,
Flings himself forward: By the Stars, by Heav'n,
You I conjure, and by This vital Air,
Take me, Ye Trojans; to whatever Climes
You please, transport me; That will be enough:
One, I confess, I am of Grecian Race,
And came a Warriour to the Walls of Troy.
For which, if so That Injury require,
If such my Guilt; Disperse my mangled Limbs
O'er the wide Ocean: If I die, 'twill prove
Some Consolation, that I die by Men.

He said; and fix'd, and grov'ling on the Ground
Embrac'd our Knees. We urge him to declare
Who, and from whence he was, and how distress'd.
My Father's self, Anchises, in his Thoughts
Little deliberating, gives the Youth
His Hand; and with That present Pledge confirms
His wav'ring Mind: At length, reliev'd from Fear,
He Thus proceeds. To Ithaca my Birth

181

Is ow'd, and Achæmenides my Name;
Companion of Ulysses' hapless Toils.
Leaving my Father Adamastus, poor,
(And would to Heav'n That Fortune had remain'd)
I went to Troy. While here my frighted Friends
Forsook the cruel Mansions; me they left,
Unmindful, in the Cyclops' spacious Cave.
Dark is th'interior Grot, and vast; besmear'd
With Gore, and savage Feasts: Himself with Height
Immeasurable, stalks, and beats the Stars,
(Ye Gods, avert so great a Plague from Earth!)
Dire to the Sight, by no Address, or Speech

182

To be accosted. On raw, human Flesh,
And clotted Blood, he feeds. I saw him, stretch'd
In his mid Den, with Grasp prodigious seise
Two of our Number, and their Bodies dash
Against a Rock; The Floor bespatter'd swam
In Brains, and Blood: I saw him, as he chew'd
The Gobbets, dropping with black, ropy Gore;
And Limbs, yet living, sprawl'd between his Teeth.
Not unreveng'd indeed: nor did Ulysses
Patient endure it; or forget himself
In That Distress. For as He lay, with Neck
Reclin'd, immense, extended in his Cave,
Gorg'd with his Banquet, stupify'd with Wine,
Belching out gory Morsels in his Sleep,
Commix'd with crude, and indigested Draughts:
We, having first invok'd the mighty Gods,
And taking each his Post allotted, round
Inclose him all; and with our sharpen'd Steel
Bore out his broad, deep Eye, which single lay
Then hid beneath his griesly, frowning Front,

183

Wide as a Grecian Shield, or Phœbus' Lamp;
And, pleas'd, revenge the Manes of our Friends.
But fly, Ye Miserable; fly, and cut
Your Cables from the Shore.
For such, and huge, as Polypheme, who pens
His fleecy Flocks, and milks them in his Cave,
An hundred Cyclops more These winding Coasts
Inhabit round, and o'er the Mountains rove.
Thrice has the Moon renew'd her blunted Horns;
Since here in Woods, among the desert Dens
Of Beasts, I live; and from the Rocks behold
The monstrous Cyclops, trembling at the Sound
Of their big Voices, and their pond'rous Feet.
Berries, and stony Sloes the Trees afford,
Wretched Repast! and Herbage from the Mold
Pluck'd by the Roots sustains me. Gazing round,
Your Fleet I saw first steering to the Shore:
To That I soon resolv'd myself to join,
Whatever it should prove: It is enough
To have escap'd the execrable Race;
Do You by any Death. This Life destroy.

He scarce had spoke; when on the Mountain's Top
Himself we saw, th'enormous Polypheme,
Shepherd among his Flocks, with Bulk immense
Moving along, and seeking the known Shores.
An eyeless Monster, hideous, vast, deform!

184

A Pine's huge Trunk directs his Hand, and firms
His Steps; His wooly Sheep attend his Walk,
(Those were his sole Delight) and from his Neck
His Pipe hangs down, the Solace of his Woe.
Soon as he reach'd the Ocean's Waves profound;
He rins'd his empty Socket from the Blood,
Gnashing his Teeth with Groans: Then stalk'd along
Thro' the mid Ocean; Nor did yet the Waves
Tinge his tall Sides. We trembling speed our Flight
With eager haste, receiving him on Board,
At his Request, who had so well deserv'd;
And silent cut the Cords, and sweep the Sea
With struggling Oars. He heard; and to the Sound
Quick turn'd his steps: But when he found his Hand
Short of it's Reach affected, and no Pow'r

185

To ford in close Pursuit th'Iönian Gulf;
He rais'd a hideous Yell; at which the Sea
Trembled, and all it's Waves: Italia quak'd;
And Ætna bellow'd from it's winding Caves.
Rous'd by the Noise, the whole Cyclopean Race
Rush from the Woods, and Mountains, to the Port;
And fill the Shore. We see th'Ætnæan Brood
(Dreadful Assembly!) stand, and sternly roll
Their Eyes in vain, and rear their tow'ring Heads

186

To Heav'n: As when, upon a Mountain's Top,
Aërial Oaks, or Cypress-Cones stand high,
The Thicket of Diana, or of Jove.
Fear wings our Friends precipitate, to tack
To any Point, and turn our Sails where-e'er
The Wind permits: But contrary th'Advice
Of Helenus directs them not to run
'Twixt Scylla, and Charybdis, either way
Bord'ring on Death: Consulting we resolve
Backwards to bend our Course. When Boreas, sent
From strait Pelorus, blows: I sail along
Close by Pantagia's Mouth of living Stone,
Megara's narrow Frith, and Tapsus low;
Such Coasts were shewn by Achæmenides
Companion of Ulysses' hapless Toils,
Which he before had wander'd, now review'd.
Against Sicania's Bay an Island lies,
Oppos'd to rough Plemmyrium, nam'd of old
Ortygia: Here, 'tis said, Alphëus, Stream
Of Elis, underneath the Ocean urg'd

187

His secret Way; now rushing thro' thy Mouth,
O Arethusa, in Sicilia's Sea
Loses his blended Waves. Advis'd, we pray
The mighty Deities who There preside:
And thence we pass along the fertil Soil
Of stagnating Helorus; Thence the Cliffs
Of high Pachynus stretch'd into the Main;
And Camarina, made by Fate unmov'd,
Appears at distance; The Geloian Fields,
And spacious Gela from the River nam'd.
Thence Agragas from far it's lofty Walls
Uprears, the Breeder once of gen'rous Steeds.
Thee too, with full extended Sails I leave,
Palmy Selinus; and the hidden Rocks
In Lilybéum's stony Shallows. Thence
The Port of Drepanum, a joyless Coast,
Receives me. Here alas! so many Storms
Escap'd, I lose the Solace of my Toils,
My Sire Anchises: Here you leave me, Best
Of Fathers, from such Dangers sav'd in vain.
Nor did Prophetick Helenus, amidst
So great a Number of predicted Woes,
Nor dire Celæno, That hard Fate foretel.
This was my last of Labours; This the Bound

188

Of my long Travels: Parting hence I came,
By Providence directing, to your Coasts.

Thus Prince Æneas, while All silent sate,
Alone related the Decrees of Heav'n,
And his own Voyages describ'd: He stop'd
At length, and ending here retir'd to Rest.

The End of the Third Book.

189

BOOK the Fourth.

226

But with consuming Care the restless Queen
Already bleeding, nourishes a Wound
Deep in her Veins, and wastes with hidden Fire.
Much to her Thoughts the Heroe's brave Exploits

227

Recur, and much the Glories of his Race;
Fix'd in her Soul his Looks, and Words remain;
And lost Repose is banish'd from her Breast.

Now had returning Morn illum'd the World
With Phœbus' Lamp, and from the Pole dispell'd
The dewy Shades; when, sick with fond Desire,
Her Confident, her Sister, she bespeaks.
What Dreams, my dearest Anna, discompose
My Rest? What wond'rous Stranger at our Court
Is here arriv'd! how God-like he appears!
In Mien how graceful! and how brave in Arms!
For me, I think (nor groundless are Those Thoughts)
His Lineage is Divine. Unmanly Fear
Argues degen'rate Souls: What Fates, alas!
Have him pursu'd! What Battles did he tell!
Were not my Soul immoveably resolv'd
Never to link my self in Nuptial Bonds,
Since my first Love deluded me by Death;

228

Did I not sicken at the Sound of Wedlock:
To This one Frailty I perhaps could yield.
My Sister (for to Thee I will disclose
My inmost Thoughts) since poor Sichæus fell,
And with his Blood, spilt by a Brother's Hand,
Sprinkled our Houshold-Gods; This only Man
Has warp'd my Inclinations, and unfix'd
My stagg'ring Resolution: I perceive
The Signs and Tokens of my former Flame.
But may the yawning Earth devour me quick;
Or Jove with Thunder strike me to the Shades,
Pale Shades of Erebus, and Night profound;
E'er, Modesty, I break Thy sacred Laws,
Or violate Thy Rights: He, who at first
Made me his own, bore all my Love away:
Let him possess it to himself entire,
And keep it in his Grave. Thus having said,
She fill'd her Bosom with o'erflowing Tears.

Anna replies: O dearer than This Light
To me; will You alone waste all your Youth

229

In pining Grief? Nor know the dear Delights
Of Children, and the sweet Rewards of Love?
Think you That Care disturbs departed Ghosts,
Or bury'd Ashes? What, tho' heretofore
No soft Addresses your sad Soul could move,
Not here in Libya, nor before, at Tyre?
What tho' Iärbas was with Scorn repuls'd,
And other Leaders, born on Africk Coasts
Fertil in Triumphs? Ev'n a pleasing Love
Will you resist? Nor think what Countries round
Inclose you? Here Getulian Towns, a Race
Invincible in War; the fierce, untam'd
Numidians, and th'inhospitable Sands
Of Syrtis: There, a Region wild, and waste
By parching Heat; then raging far, and wide,
Th'unciviliz'd Barcæans: Not to name
The War from Tyre impending, and the Threats
Of our fierce Brother?
Sure 'twas indulgent Heav'n's peculiar Care,
And Juno's Providence, that hither brought
The Trojan Fleet. How fam'd a City This
Will you behold! How flourishing a Realm
By such Connubials! By the Trojan Arms
United to our own, to what a Height
Of Greatness will the Punic Glory rise!
Only do you with Pray'r propitiate Heav'n,
Indulge your Hospitality, and frame

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New Reasons for their Stay; tempestuous Winds,
Orion's stormy Influence on the Main,
Their shatter'd Vessels, and th'inclement Sky.

By such Advice she fan'd the Fire of Love
Within her Sister's Soul; with Hope confirm'd
Her wav'ring Mind, and broke thro' all Reserves.

First to the Temple they repair, and seek
Heav'n's Favour at the Altars: On them laid
Selected Victims, with accustom'd Rites,
To Ceres Law-giver, and Phœbus bleed,
And Father Bacchus; but above the rest
To Juno, who presides o'er Nuptial Beds.
The beauteous Queen her self a Goblet holds
In her Right hand, and for Libation pours
The Wine betwixt the snow-white Heifer's Horns.
Or round the smoking Altars slowly walks
Before the Statues of the Gods; with Gifts
Renews the Day; and on the open'd Breasts

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Of Victims eagerly intent, consults
Their breathing Entrails. Wretched Ignorance
Of Augurs! What alas! do Vows, or Shrines
Avail, to heal her Frenzy? A soft Flame
Feeds on her Vitals; and a living Wound
Silent, unseen, bleeds inward in her Breast.
Th'unhappy Dido burns, and restless roves
O'er all the City: Like a wounded Deer,
Whom heedless of her Fate, in Cretian Woods,
The Swain at distance with his Shafts pursu'd;
And in her Body left the missive Steel,
Unknowing: She thro' the Dictæan Groves,
And Thickets flying strays; the mortal Dart
Sticks in her Side. Sometimes the Trojan Prince
She takes alone, and leads him round the Walls;
With Ostentation shews him, as they walk,
Her rising City, and Sidonian Wealth;
Begins to speak, and in the Middle stops

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Her fault'ring Tongue. At Ev'ning she renews
Her Banquets; fondly begs again to hear
The Trojan Wars: again, while He relates,
She listens fix'd, and hangs upon the Sound.
Then after all are to their Rest retir'd:
When in her turn the Moon obscure withdraws
Her Light, and setting Stars persuade to Sleep:
Lonely she pines within the empty Court,
Lies on the Couch which just before she left;
Him absent, absent still she hears, and sees.
Sometimes, his Father's Image all her Soul
Possessing, young Ascanius on her Lap
She long detains; if possible, to cheat
With That Amusement her unbounded Love.
Th'unfinish'd Tow'rs no longer rise; The Youth,
Undisciplin'd in Arms, no longer form
Ports, and strong Fortresses of War; The Works
Neglected stand: The Threat'nings of the Walls,
And tall Machines no more invade the Sky;
But, sticking in mid way, come short of Heav'n.

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Whom when the Wife of Jove perceives involv'd
In such a Pest of Passion, nor by Fame
It self restrain'd; to Venus Thus she speaks.
Prodigious Trophies you indeed have gain'd,
You, and your Boy; vast Praise, a deathless Name:
If by the Fraud of Two Celestial Pow'rs
One Woman be subdu'd. And well I know
Our rising Carthage you suspect, and fear.
But where at last will This Contention end?
Why rather make we not eternal Peace,
And binding Nuptials? What your Soul desir'd
You have effected: Dido fondly burns;
And Love's soft Frenzy revels in her Veins.
Then let This People by our joint Command
Be rul'd; Let Dido serve a Phrygian Lord,

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And give in Dow'r her Tyrians to your Hand.

To whom Thus Venus (for she well perceiv'd
The Fraud of Juno, lab'ring to transfer
Th'Italian Kingdom to the Libyan Coasts)
Reply'd. Who ill-advis'd would e'er reject
Such fair Demands, and rather chuse with you
Still to contend? Did Fortune but approve,
And second your Design: But I, unskill'd
In Fate's Decrees, am doubtful whether Jove
Permit the Colonies of Tyre, and Troy
To join their Kingdoms, and unite in One.
You are his Consort, and have Privilege
To sound his Thoughts; I follow, as you lead.

To whom Imperial Juno Thus reply'd.
Mine be That Care: At present (mark my Words)
How what th'immediate Stress of Things requires
May be effected, I'll in brief unfold.
Soon as to-morrow's Sun his rising Beams
Extends; Æneas, and th'unhappy Queen
Design to hunt among the Libyan Woods.
On These, when all are on their Sport intent,
And with their Toils the Thickets round inclose,
I from above will pour a Storm with Hail
Commix'd, and roll loud Thunder o'er the Sky.
Th'Attendants shall be scatter'd, and conceal'd
In Darkness: Dido, and the Trojan Chief

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To the same Grot shall come; I'll there attend,
And, if your Thoughts approve it, join her firm
In Nuptial Bonds, and consecrate her His:
Here Hymen shall be present. Not averse
From this Proposal, Venus gives Consent,
Sees thro' her Project, and in secret smiles.

Mean-while Aurora, rising, leaves the Sea:
Forth from the Gates the chosen Youth advance,
With Nets, and Toils, broad-pointed hunting Spears,
Massylian Horsemen, and quick-scented Hounds.
Before her Gates the Punic Nobles wait
The Queen, delaying in her rich Alcove;
Her Steed, adorn'd with Purple, and with Gold,
Stands pawing, fierce, and champs the foaming Bit.
At length, attended with a num'rous Guard,
She comes Majestick: Her Sidonian Vest
Border'd with crimson Fringe; her Quiver, Gold;
Her Tresses in a golden Knot confin'd;
A golden Buckle clasps her purple Robe.
Join'd to the rest the Trojan Youth advance,
And glad Iülus: But, above them all,

236

Beauteous, and Eminent, Æneas comes;
And, adding his Retinue, fills the Train.
As when Apollo leaves his Winter-Seat
Lycia, and Xanthus' Stream; and in it's Turn
Visits his Native Delos, to restore
The Festivals; About his Altars croud,
With mingled Noise, the Cretians, Dryopes,
And painted Agathyrsi: He on Top
Of Cynthus walks, and crowns his flowing Hair
With a soft Wreath of Greens, forms it with Art,
And winds it up in Gold; His sounding Shafts
Hang at his Shoulders. No less graceful mov'd
Æneas; In his Face such Beauty shone.
When to the Hills, and pathless Haunts of Beasts
They come; Driv'n downwards from the Tops of Rocks
The wild Goats run: In other parts the Deer
Scour o'er the spacious Champain, flying join
Their Troops in Clouds of Dust, and leave the Hills.
But young Ascanius, thro' the winding Vales,
Rejoices in his mettled Steed; now These,
Now Those out-rides: among th'ignoble Herd
Of Beasts, desires to see a foaming Boar,
Or tawny Lion from the Hills descend.

Mean-while the mustring Clouds with grumbling Sound
Disturb the Sky: A Storm with mingled Hail

237

Ensues; The Tyrians, and the Trojan Youth,
And Venus' Grandson, flying o'er the Fields
Seek various Shelter: Down the Mountains rush
The Torrents. Dido, and the Trojan Chief
To the same Grot together come: And first
Earth, and contracting Juno gave the Sign;
Flashes of ruddy Light'ning glar'd; The Sky
Was conscious of th'Alliance; And the Nymphs
Shriek'd on the Mountain's Top. That Day was first
The Cause of Death, and Woes: For Dido now
Neither by Decency, nor Fame is mov'd;
Nor longer studies to conceal her Love,
But skreens the Guilt with Wedlock's specious Name.

Forthwith loud Fame thro' Libyan Cities goes,
Fame, a pernicious Pest, than whom more swift

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Is none; She flying grows, and gathers Strength
By Motion: Small at first thro' Fear; in time
She rears herself in Air, walks on the Ground
And hides her tow'ring Head among the Clouds.
Her, the last Sister to Enceladus,
And Cæus, as 'tis said, the Parent Earth,
Provok'd by Anger of the Gods, brought forth,
Swift in her Feet, and never-weary'd Wings.
A Monster hideous, vast! As many Plumes
As in her Body stick, so many Eyes
For ever waking (wond'rous to relate!)
There grow beneath; as many babbling Tongues;
As many list'ning Ears. By Night she flies,
Noisy, thro' Shades obscure, 'twixt Earth and Heav'n;
Nor are her Eyes by pleasing Slumber clos'd.
Watchful, and spying round, by Day, she sits
On some high Palace-Top, or lofty Tow'r,
And mighty Towns alarms; no less intent
On spreading Falshood, than reporting Truth.

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She then with various Rumour fills the Croud,
Pleas'd with her Task, and mingles Truth with Lyes.
Relates that one Æneas, sprung from Troy,
Was come; To whom fair Dido could descend
To wed herself: Now all the Winter's Length
They indulge between them in luxurious Love,
Regardless of their Kingdoms, and enslav'd
By brutal Appetite. With Talk like This
The shameless Goddess fills the Mouths of Men.

To King Iärbas strait she bends her Course,
Inflames his Soul, and aggravates his Rage.
He, born of Ammon, and a ravish'd Nymph
Of Garamantic Race, to mighty Jove
An hundred spacious Temples, in his Realms
Of wide Extent, an hundred Altars built;
And consecrated to the Gods the Hearths
Of everlasting Fire; the Ground with Blood
Of slaughter'd Victims smoking; and the Doors
With various-colour'd flow'ry Wreaths adorn'd.
He, wild with Rage, and at the stabbing News
Incens'd, among the Statues of the Gods,
Before the Altars, with uplifted Hands,
To Jove Thus supplicant his Suit address'd.

Almighty Jove, to whom the Moorish Race,
Feasting on broider'd Beds, pour richest Wine;
Seest thou These Things? Or groundless are our Fears

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Of Thunder? Do thy Light'nings from the Clouds
Scare us in vain, and idle Murmurs roll?
A Woman here, who, wand'ring in our Coasts,
A little City built on purchas'd Ground,
To whom on our Conditions we allow'd
A Tract of Tillage-Land, has scorn'd my Love,
And Lord Æneas to her Throne receiv'd.
And now That other Paris, with his soft
Half-female Train, his Lydian Bonnet bound
Beneath his Chin, his Hair perfum'd with Oils,
Enjoys the Prize; while we with Gifts supply
Your Temples, and maintain an empty Name.

Him, as he thus before his Altars pray'd,
Th'Almighty heard; and turn'd his awful Eyes
To Carthage-Turrets, and the princely Pair

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Of Lovers, heedless of their better Fame.
Then Mercury he Thus instructs: Dispatch,
My Son, invite the Winds, on Pinions glide;
And to the Trojan Chief, who loiters now
At Carthage, and forgets the Realms by Fate
Allotted to him, These my Words convey,
And wing my Message thro' the fleeting Air.
Tell him, his beauteous Mother did not promise
A Son like Him; whom not for This she twice
Rescu'd from Grecian Jav'lins: But a Prince,
Who Italy should rule, a Nation big
With Empires, fierce, and terrible in War;
Should by his Deeds assert th'illustrious Blood
Of Teucer, and to all the World give Laws.
If by the Fame of so sublime a Fate
He is not fir'd; and will no Toil endure
For his own Glory: Does the Father's Love
Envy Ascanius Rome's Imperial Tow'rs?
What does he he purpose? with what Prospect stay
Among That hostile People? nor regard
The rich Lavinian Fields, and future Race
Destin'd to rule Ausonia? Bid him sail;
This is the Sum; be This my dread Command.

He said; The Son, preparing to obey
His mighty Father's Will, first to his Feet
Fast binds the golden Sandals, which on Wings

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Bear him aloft, as o'er the Seas, or Earth
He flies, and round him whirls the rapid Air.
Then takes his Wand: With This pale Ghosts he calls
From Hell; sends others to Those dreary Realms;
Gives, or breaks Sleep; and Eyes unseals from Death.
Equipp'd with This, he drives the Winds, and cuts
Th'opposing turbid Mists; and now discerns,
In his swift Flight, the Top, and lofty Sides
Of rocky Atlas, who sustains the Sky.
Atlas, whose piny Head with low'ring Clouds
Is wrap'd, and beaten with the Winds, and Rain:
Snow hides his Shoulders; from his hoary Chin
Streams roll, and stiffen'd hangs his icy Beard.
Here first Cyllenius, pois'd on even Wings,
Alighted; Thence with all his Body's force,
Flings himself headlong from the steepy Height
Down to the Ocean: Like the Bird that flies,
Low, skimming o'er the Surface, near the Sea,

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Around the Shores, around the fishy Rocks:
So Mercury in Air, 'twixt Earth and Heav'n,
Shooting from his maternal Grandsire, flew,
And cut the Winds, and Libya's sandy Shore.

Soon as he There with wingy Feet arriv'd;
He saw Æneas busily empoly'd
In buildings Forts, and Streets: A Sword he wore
Studded with Jasper; and a Gown, that flam'd
With Tyrian Crimson, from his Shoulders hung;
A Present which the Royal Dido gave,
And wrought the vary'd Silk with Threads of Gold.
Strait he invades him: Thou art then engag'd
To build, and beautify fair Carthage-Tow'rs,
Uxorious Man! ah! thoughtless! unconcern'd
For thy own Kingdom, and thy own Affairs.
The Sov'reign of the Sky, whose awful Nod
Shakes Earth, and Heav'n, has sent me from above,
From bright Olympus: His Commands I bring,
And waft his Message thro' the fleeting Air.
What dost thou purpose? with what Prospect waste

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Thy Time, unactive, on These Libyan Coasts?
If by the Fame of so sublime a Fate
Thou art not mov'd, and wilt no Toil endure
For thy own Glory; yet at least regard
Thy Heir Ascanius, and his rising Hopes;
To whom th'Italian and the Roman Realms
Are due from Fate. When Hermes Thus had spoke;
In his mid Speech abrupt he far withdrew
From mortal Sight, and vanish'd into Air.

Confounded, and amaz'd, Æneas stood:
Up rose his Hair erect; and to his Mouth
His Speech with Horrour cleav'd. He longs to go,
And leave That pleasing Kingdom, Thunder-struck
At such a Message, and the God's Command.
What should he do? With what soft Words attempt
To sooth th'impatient Queen? How introduce
The first Discourse? His wav'ring Mind divides
A thousand ways; now This, now That resolves,
And turns on ev'ry Side it's shifting Thoughts.
At length This Resolution he approves:
Mnestheus he calls, Sergestus, and the brave
Cloanthus; bids them privately prepare
The Fleet, and draw their Forces to the Shore;
Provide all fit Materials; and conceal
The Cause of such an unexpected Change:
Tells them, that while th'indulgent Queen remain'd
Unapprehensive, ignorant, nor fear'd
That Loves so well confirm'd could be dissolv'd;
He would explore th'Approaches to her Soul,

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Watch all the softest Seasons of Address,
And think on proper Measures. These Commands
With joyful Haste they eagerly obey,
And execute his Orders. But the Queen
(Who can delude a Lover?) Soon perceiv'd
The Fraud, and first his future Motions saw,
Fearing ev'n Safety: The same impious Pest,
Fame, gave her the Alarm; the Fleet was rigg'd,
And all prepar'd to sail. Distracted, wild,
She rages; and, incens'd, o'er all the Town
Roves, like a Bacchanal; when at the Name
Of Bacchus, his triennial Orgies swell
Her Breast with Madness; and Cythæron's Top
Invites her, echoing with nocturnal Sounds.

At length Æneas Thus she first bespeaks.
And couldst thou hope, perfidious, to conceal
So black a Crime? and silent leave my Coasts?
Cannot my Love, nor thy once plighted Faith,
Nor Dido's cruel, and untimely Death
(For Death inevitable must ensue)
Detain thee? Ev'n to Winter's scowling Sky
Your Navy you expose, and haste to stem
The Deep amidst tempestuous Northern Winds,
Ah cruel! What, if Kingdoms not thy own
Thou didst not seek, and still old Troy remain'd;
Should Troy itself be sought o'er stormy Seas?
Me dost thou fly? By These distilling Tears,
By thy Right hand (since Nought else I've reserv'd
To wretched Me) by our connubial Rites,
And Hymenéal Loves but yet begun;
If ever I have aught of thee deserv'd,

246

Or any thing of mine was e'er to thee
Delightful; pity my declining State;
And oh! if yet there's any room for Pray'r,
Be yet intreated, yet thy Purpose change.
The Libyan Nations, for Thy sake incens'd,
And fierce Numidian Tyrants are my Foes;
My Tyrians too offended: For Thy sake
My Honour is extinguish'd, lost; and That
By which alone I soar'd above the World,
My once unsully'd Fame: To whom by thee
Dying am I abandon'd, cruel Guest?
Since That's the only Name which now remains,
Instead of Husband. Wherefore should I stay,
'Till my unnat'ral Brother lay my Walls
In Ruin? Or Iärbas too his Realms
Transport me Captive? Had I but from Thee
Some Pledge before thy Flight; did any young
Little Æneas play about my Hall,
Expressing thee in Looks; I should not seem
Entirely lost, forsaken, and betray'd.

247

She said; He, aw'd by Jove's severe Command,
Fix'd held his Eyes, and smother'd in his Breast
The struggling Pain: At length in brief reply'd.

Your Favours, great, and numerous, conferr'd
On me, fair Queen, you justly may recount,
Nor shall I once deny; nor e'er forget
Elisa, while I'm mindful of myself;
While Life inspires this Frame. In brief I'll speak,
Full to the Cause: 'Twas never my Design
(Misrepresent me not) to leave your Coasts
With secresy; nor did I ever think
Of Nuptial Rites, or such a Contract meant.
Me did the Fates permit to lead my Life

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By my own Conduct, and compose my Cares
To my own Wish; I had regarded first
My Native Walls, and Ilium's dear Remains:
Priam's high Palace had again been rear'd,
And for my vanquish'd Country I had built
New-rising Troy. But now Apollo's Shrines,
Now Lycian Oracles direct my Course
To Italy, our lov'd, our promis'd Realm.
If You, a Tyrian Princess, are detain'd
By Carthage-Tow'rs, and please yourself to see
A Libyan City rising; who can grudge
The Trojans Liberty to fix their Seat
In Latium? Let Us too have Leave to seek
A foreign Land. As oft as Night obscures

249

The World with dewy Shades, and fiery Stars
Rise in the Sky; my Father's troubled Ghost
Admonishes, and frights me in my Dreams.
My dear Ascanius chides me for my Stay;
Whom of th'Hesperian Kingdom I defraud,
And fatal destin'd Fields. Nay just ev'n now
Th'Ambassadour of Heav'n from mighty Jove
Dispatch'd, (I call to witness both Those Pow'rs)
Brought me his Mandates thro' the fleeting Air:
I saw the God in open Light of Day
Entring your Walls; and in These Ears receiv'd
His Voice. Disquiet not with vain Complaints
Yourself, and me: 'Tis with Regret I seek
Th'Italian Coasts.

Thus while he spoke, she silently intent
Ey'd him averse; and roll'd her glaring Balls
Around; from head to foot survey'd him o'er,
Speechless awhile; and Thus in Rage reply'd.

Nor art thou of a Goddess-Mother born;
Nor is thy Birth from Dardanus deriv'd,
Perfidious Wretch: But Caucasus, with Rocks
Horrid, disclos'd thee from it's flinty Sides,
And fierce Hyrcanian Tygers gave thee suck.

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For why should I dissemble? Or what worse
Can I expect? Did he once give a Groan
To see me weep? Did he once bend his Eyes?
Or shed one Tear in Pity to my Love?
To which of his Barbarities shall I give
The Pref'rence? Now no more the Queen of Gods,
Nor Jove beholds these things with equal Eyes.
True Faith is no where to be found: Him toss'd
On Shore, of all things indigent, I here
Receiv'd; and made him Partner of my Throne,
(Fool that I was!) repair'd his shatter'd Fleet,

251

And hospitably sav'd his Friends from Death.
Furies distract me! Now Apollo's Shrines,
Now Lycian Oracles have warn'd him hence:
Th'Ambassadour of Heav'n, from mighty Jove
Dispatch'd, brings dreadful Mandates thro' the Air.
Belike, the Gods are wond'rously concern'd
For his Affairs; That Care disturbs their Rest.
I nor detain thee, nor refel thy Words.
Away for Latium, by the Winds; go, seek
Thy Kingdom o'er the Waves: For me, I hope,
If the just Gods have Pow'r, thou wilt receive
Thy due Reward among the Rocks; and there
Call oft on Dido: Wrapt in dusky Flames,
I'll follow thee; and, soon as icy Death
Has freed my Soul from Flesh, in ev'ry place
My Ghost shall haunt thee: Villain, thou shalt feel
My Vengeance; I shall hear it, and That Fame
Shall reach my Ears among the Shades below.

This said, she, in the Middle of her Speech,
Breaks off abrupt, and sick'ning flies the Light;

252

With Loathing turns her Eyes from his; and leaves
Him wav'ring, and a thousand things to say
Irresolute, in Fear: Her Maids support
Her Body, as she sinks into their Arms,
And lay her fainting on the Royal Bed.

But good Æneas, tho' he much desir'd
By comforting to ease her Grief, and sooth
The Tempest of her Passions; groaning deep,
And stagger'd in his Mind by mighty Love:
Yet executes the dread Commands of Heav'n,
And to his Fleet repairs. Then all at once
The Trojans urge their Toil, and from the Dock
Draw their tall Ships: The new-pitch'd Gallies float;
Unfashion'd Timber from the Woods they bring,
And leafy Oars, thro' Eagerness and Haste;
Studious of Flight.
Them crouding thro' the Streets you might behold,

253

And rushing from the Town. As when the Ants
Mindful of Winter, waste a heap of Corn,
To store their Granaries. Along the Fields
Goes a black Troop; and in a narrow Path
Their Booty they convey: With all their Strength
Some on their Shoulders push the cumbrous Grains;
Others bring up the Rear, and chide Delay:
The Path all smokes, and hot the Work proceeds.

Then, Dido, what were then thy Thoughts? What Groans,
At such a Prospect, heav'd thy throbbing Breast?
When from a Turret's Top thou didst behold
The Hurry of the Shore, and all the Sea
Confus'd with mingled Noises? Cruel Love!
To what Extremes does not thy Tyrant Pow'r
Urge mortal Breasts? Again dissolv'd in Tears,
Spight of her Rage, and Pride, again she tries
Suppliant Intreaties, and submissive bows
Her haughty Soul to Love: That, e'er she dy'd,
No Measures unattempted might be left.
My dearest Anna, from all Parts, thou seest,

254

Rushing they croud the Shore; their Sails unfurl'd
Invite the Breezes, and with joyful Haste
The shouting Mariners have crown'd their Ships.
Could I have e'er expected such a Blow
Of cruel Fate as This; my Soul could then
Have born it: Yet This only Favour grant
Thy wretched Sister; for That faithless Man
To Thee alone uncommon Rev'rence paid,
Trusted his Secrets with Thee; Thou alone
Didst know the soft Approaches to his Soul,
And all the proper Seasons of Address.
Go, Sister; and This Message suppliant bear
To the proud Foe. I never did conspire,
At Aulis, with the Greeks, to overturn
The Trojan State, nor sent a Fleet to Troy;
Nor e'er disturb'd his bury'd Father's Dust.
Why does he stop his unrelenting Ears
To my Intreaties? Whither does he fly
So hasty? This last Favour let him grant
To his unhappy Lover; let him wait
An easy Voyage, and permitting Winds.
I now no more petition him to yield
The Rights of Nuptials, which he has betray'd;

255

Nor urge him to relinquish his gay Hopes
Of Italy, and Empire: All I beg,
Is but a soothing Interval, some Rest,
And Respite to my Passion; 'till my Fate
Shall to Misfortune reconcile my Soul,
Subdu'd by Grief, and teach me how to mourn.
Pity thy Sister; This last Boon I crave:
This let him grant; I'll then dismiss him free,
And crown his Satisfaction with my Death.

Thus she her Suit express'd; Such mournful Pray'rs
Her weeping Sister carries, and repeats:
He by no Tears is mov'd; untractable,
And deaf to all Intreaties: Fate forbids;
And Jove, o'er-ruling, stops his pitying Ears.
As when rough Alpine Winds, with struggling Gusts,

256

This way, and that, contend t' o'erturn an Oak
Stubborn with aged Timber; Roaring loud
The Branches bend; The stiff Trunk bows; The Leaves
Thick falling strew the Ground: It self fast clings
Fix'd in the Rocks; and high as it uprears
It's tow'ring Head in Air, so deep it's Root
Shoots downwards to the Centre. With such Force,
And ceaseless Noise, the Hero on all sides
Is batter'd; and within his manly Breast
Confines the Pain he feels: His Mind persists
Unmov'd; and Tears roll down his Cheeks in vain.

257

Then, terrify'd with Fate, th'unhappy Queen
Implores to die; and sickens to behold
The bright Convex of Heav'n. To make her urge
Her Enterprize, and leave the hated Light;
When pious Gifts she on the Altars laid
Smoking with Incense (horrid to relate!)
She saw the Liquors sacred to the Gods
Turn black; and as the holy Wine was pour'd,

258

It chang'd to putrid Blood. This dire Portent
From All, ev'n from her Sister, she conceals.
Besides, within her Court a Marble Dome
There stood, devoted to her former Lord;
Which with uncommon Honour she rever'd,
With snowy Fleeces, and fresh Garlands crown'd.
Hence Groans are heard, and her dead Husband's Voice
Seeming to call aloud; when gloomy Night
Obscures the World: And, on her Palace-Top,
The lonely Owl with oft-repeated Scream
Complains, and spins into a dismal Length
Her baleful Shrieks. Nor less the Warnings, giv'n
By ancient Augurs, fright her restless Mind
With terrible Predictions. In her Dreams
Cruel Æneas persecutes her Soul
To Madness. Still abandon'd to her self,
Cheerless, without a Guide, she seems to go
A long, a tédious Journey, and to seek
Her Tyrian Subjects on deserted Coasts.

So raving Pentheus Troops of Furies sees,
Two Suns, and double Thebes: So mad with Guilt

259

Orestes, agitated on the Stage,
Flies from his Mother's Ghost, with Torches arm'd,
And black infernal Snakes; revengeful Fiends
Sit in the Doors, and intercept his Flight.

Therefore when all the Furies in her Breast
She had conceiv'd, o'ercome with wild Despair,
And resolute to die; the Time, and Means
She with her self contrives: and Thus accosts
Her mourning Sister; (her Design conceals,
And smooths her Visage with dissembled Hope.)
Rejoice with me, my Sister; I have found
A sure Expedient, which will either bring
My Lover back, or free me from my Love.
Near Ocean's Limits, and the setting Sun,
On Æthiopia's Bounds, there is a Place,
Where mighty Atlas on his Shoulders turns

260

The rolling Axis studded o'er with Stars.
Here a Massylian Priestess lives; who kept
The Temple of th'Hesperides, with Food
Supply'd the Guardian Dragon, in his Meals
Honey infus'd, and drowsy Poppy's Juice,
And in the Tree preserv'd the sacred Boughs.
She undertakes with Charms to disengage
Whome'er she pleases, others to involve
In restless Cares; makes rapid Streams stand still,
And backwards turns the Stars: From Hell she calls
Nocturnal Ghosts; The Ground, you'll see, will groan,
Beneath her Feet, and Oaks from Hills descend.
Be all the Gods my Witnesses, and Thou,

261

My dearest Sister, with Regret I fly
For Aid to Magick Arts. Do thou erect
A Pile with secresy in th'inner Court,
Beneath the Cope of Heav'n; and on it place
The Trojan Arms, which in the Chamber fix'd
That Traytor left, his Cloaths, the genial Bed
On which I was undone: T'abolish all
The Villain's Relicks, is our form'd Design;
And such Direction the sage Priestess gives.

This said, she silent stood, and o'er her Face
A dying Paleness spread: Yet Anna's Thoughts
Never suspected that her Sister meant
Her Fun'ral, on pretext of sacred Rites;
Could not conceive so frantick a Despair,
And fear'd no worse than when Sichæus dy'd;
Therefore obeys her Orders.

But in th'interiour Court, and open Air,
A lofty Pile with Pitch-Trees and cleft Oak
Is built: The Queen with Garlands hangs it round,
And crowns it with a fun'ral Wreath: Above,
The Hero's Raiment, and the Sword he left,
And his Effigy on the Bed she lays,
Not ign'rant of the future. Altars stand
Around; And, with her Tresses scatter'd loose,
The Priestess thunders o'er three hundred Gods,
Erebus, Chaos, three-shap'd Hecate,

262

Virgin Diana's triple Form. The Place
With fancy'd Waters of Avernus' Fount
She sprinkles. Herbs are brought by Moon-light mow'd
With brazen Scythes, big, swol'n with milky Juice
Of noxious Poison; and the fleshy Knot
Torn from the Forehead of a new-foal'd Colt,
To rob the Mother's Love.
Her self with one Foot bare, and Robes unbound,
Before the Altars, with a season'd Cake,
And pious Hands, resolv'd on Death, invokes
To witness all the Gods, and ev'ry Star
Conscious of Fate, and whate'er Pow'r regards
And vindicates the Cause of injur'd Love.

'Twas Night; and weary Mortals o'er the World,
Lay with sweet Sleep refresh'd: The ruffled Woods,

263

And roaring Seas no more are heard; The Stars
Roll sliding in the Middle of their Course.
The Fields all hush'd; The Beasts, and painted Birds,
Which haunt the liquid Ponds, and thorny Brakes,
In silent Night, reliev'd with soft Repose,
Forget their Cares, and lose the Toils of Day.

264

Not so the wretched Dido; No sweet Sleep
Lulls her a moment; In her Eyes, or Soul,
Not for a moment she receives the Night:
Her Pangs redouble; Love with boiling Foam
Rages afresh, and with a various Tide
Of warring Passions fluctuates in her Breast.
Such Thoughts as These she with her self revolves.

265

What shall I do? Derided shall I try
Again my former Lovers? And with Pray'rs
Suppliant sollicite the Numidian Lords,
Whose proffer'd Vows so oft I have disdain'd?
Or shall I go, attend the Trojan Fleet,
And be obedient to their worst Commands?

266

Because I have assisted them, and find
My Favours with such Gratitude repay'd?
Or grant I would; Who of That haughty Crew
Would suffer me, or in their stately Ships
Receive me scorn'd? Not yet, alas! convinc'd,
Poor, undone Wretch, not yet dost thou perceive
Perjur'd Laomedon's perfidious Race?
What? shall I then accompany, alone,
The shouting Mariners? Or round inclos'd
With all my Tyrians? Those whom scarce I drew
From Sidon, shall I drag to Sea again,
And bid them spread their Canvass to the Winds?
No; Die, as thou deserv'st: and with the Steel
Cure all thy Pains. Thou, Sister, by my Tears
O'ercome, to sooth my frantick Love, didst first
Expose me to the Foe; and load my Soul
With all This Anguish. Could I not have liv'd

267

Free, like the Savages, without a Crime,
Free from the Nuptial Bed? and ne'er have known
Such Plagues as These are? Broken is the Faith
I vow'd to dead Sichæus. Such Complaints
She burst, with Sobbing, from her tortur'd Breast.

Æneas, in his lofty Ship, resolv'd
Upon his Voyage, and prepar'd to sail,
Securely slept. To Him the Form Divine
Returning, just the same in Mien, and Look,
Appear'd in Dream, and Thus again advis'd:
Resembling Mercury in ev'ry Part,
His Voice, Complexion, and his yellow Hair,
And well-proportion'd beauteous Limbs of Youth.
Canst thou in This Conjuncture, Goddess-born,
Indulge thy Sleep? Nor think what Dangers round
Inclose thee, thoughtless Man? Nor dost thou hear
The Zephyrs breathe propitious on the Main?
She, resolute on Death, revolves her Plots,
And Mischiefs dire; and with a various Tide
Of warring Passions fluctuates in her Breast.
Will you not fly with eager Haste, while yet
'Tis in your Pow'r to fly? You strait will see
With Ships the Ocean crouded, hostile Brands

268

Glare on the Billows; and the Shore in Flames,
In Hurry, and Confusion; if the Morn
O'ertake you lingring on the Tyrian Coasts.
Rise, break Delay: A Woman is a Thing
Still various, and uncertain. Thus he spoke,
And mingled with the dusky Shades of Night.

Æneas, at the sudden Vision struck
With Horrour and Surprize, springs from the Bed,
And rouses up his Mates: Wake, wake, my Friends,
Sit to your Oars, with haste unfurl your Sails.
The God again has urg'd us, sent from Heav'n,
To speed our Flight, and cut the twisted Cords.
Thee, Holy Pow'r, whoe'er Thou art, with Joy
We follow; and again thy dread Commands
Obey: Be Thou assistant at our Need,
And guide the Stars propitious in the Sky.
He said; and from the Scabbard swiftly draws
His flashing Sword, and with the Steel unsheath'd
Divides the Cables: With like Ardour fir'd
All haste; They rush, they leave the Land; With Ships

269

The Sea is cover'd o'er: With all their Strength
They dash the Foam, and sweep the briny Waves.

Aurora, from Tithonus' saffron Bed
Now rising, sprinkled-o'er the World with Light;
Soon as the Queen perceiv'd the dawning Day,
And from a Tow'r beheld the Navy move
With even Sails, the empty Ports, and Shores
Abandon'd: With repeated Blows she beats
Her beauteous Breast, and rends her yellow Hair:
Shall he then go? The Fugitive? O Jove!
She cry'd, and make my Kingdoms thus his Sport?
Will they not rush to Arms? From all the Town
Pursue? While others from the Docks swift plunge
My Ships into the Sea? Go, fly; bring Fire;

270

Quick, hoise your Sails, and strongly ply your Oars.
What was't I said? Where am I? What Distraction
Has turn'd my Brain? Unhappy Dido! Now
Thy cruel Fate stabs home. Then was the Time
To act, when you resign'd your Sceptre. This,
This is his Faith, and Honour, who, they say,
Carries about his wand'ring Country-Gods,
Where'er he goes; and on his Shoulders bore
His aged Father. Could I not have torn
His mangled Limbs? and strew'd them on the Sea?
Have murder'd his Associates? stabb'd his Son?
And serv'd him up at Table to the Sire?
But grant that doubtful is th'Event of War;
Whom should I fear, when I resolv'd to die?
I should have scatter'd Firebrands thro' his Fleet,
His Hatches fill'd with Flames, extirpated
The Son, the Father, all the cursed Race;
And fall'n my self upon the slaughter'd Heaps.

271

Thou Sun, who in thy fiery Course survey'st
The Works of Men; Thou Juno, of These Cares
Conscious Interpreter; Thou Hecate,
Whose Name is howl'd at Midnight thro' the Streets;
You, Ye avenging Furies, and Ye Gods
Of dying, lost Elisa: To my Words
Attend; inflict on Crimes the Vengeance due,
And hear my Pray'rs. If Fate's unmov'd Decree,
And mighty Jove's resistless Will, ordain
That This perfidious Traitor must arrive
Safe in the Port, and reach the destin'd Land;
Yet, plagu'd with War by a bold Nation rais'd,
Banish'd his Coasts, and ravish'd from th'Embrace
Of lov'd Iülus, let him beg for Aid,
And see the barb'rous Murder of his Friends:
At last, on hard Conditions forc'd to sue
For Peace, his Kingdom let him ne'er enjoy,
Nor wish'd-for Light; but fall before his Time,
And lie unbury'd on the common Sand.
This I implore; and with my Blood pour forth
This dying Pray'r. Then you, my Tyrians, vex
With Hate immortal all their future Race;
And pay That grateful Off'ring to my Ghost:
Between These Nations let no League, or Truce

272

Be made: Thou, some Avenger, from my Dust
Arise, to prosecute with Fire and Sword
The Trojan Exiles; Now, in after times,
Whenever Strength sufficient shall be giv'n;
Let Shores to Shores be adverse, Seas to Seas,
And Arms to Arms: Let late Posterity
With stern Defiance wage eternal War.

She said; And ev'ry way her wav'ring Thoughts
Divided, and contriv'd with swift Dispatch
To break off Light detested. Then in brief
Barce, Sichæus' Nurse, she Thus bespeaks;
(For in the Grave her own was laid at Tyre:)
Dear Nurse, my Sister Anna hither send;
Bid her with Water from the living Stream
Her Body sprinkle o'er, and with her bring
The Victims, and the Sacrifice ordain'd
For Expiation: And do you your self
Your Temples with a holy Fillet bind;
I mean to finish the Religious Rites
To Pluto, which already I've prepar'd,
To end my Cares, and fire the Trojan Pile.

She said; The other, with th'officious haste
Of Age, her Orders studiously obeys.

But at her dire Design the desp'rate Queen
Trembling, and rolling round her sanguine Eyes,
(Her quiv'ring Cheeks with intermingled Spots
All fleck'd, and pale at near-approaching Death)
With frantick pace into the inner Court
Rushes, and furious eagerly ascends
The lofty Pile, unsheaths the Trojan Sword,

273

A Present not design'd for such a Use.
There, when the Trojan Robes, and conscious Bed
She saw; she paus'd a-while in Thought, and gave
A space to Tears: Her Body then she flings
Upon the Bed, and speaks her dying Words.
Ye dear Remains, while Heav'n and Fate were kind;
Receive This Soul, and free me from These Cares.
I've liv'd, and finish'd the allotted Course
Which Fortune gave me: Now my Royal Ghost
Must go enlarg'd down to the nether World.

274

I've built a stately City, seen my Walls,
Punish'd my barb'rous Brother, and reveng'd
My murder'd Husband. Happy had I been,
Ah! more than happy; had the Trojan Fleet
Ne'er touch'd my Coasts. Thus having spoke, she press'd
Her Face upon the Bed: And shall I then
Die unreveng'd? Yes; Thus to die, ev'n Thus,
Is better than to live. May from the Sea
The cruel Trojan view This fun'ral Blaze,
And with him bear the Omens of my Death.

Thus while she spoke; th'Attendants saw her fall,
The Sword all frothing, and her Hands besmear'd
With Blood: Loud Cries ascend the vaulted Roof;
Fame thro' th'astonish'd City wildly flies;
With shrill Laments, with Groans, and female Shrieks
The Houses ring; And Tumult rends the Sky.
As if all Carthage, by th'invading Foe,
Or ancient Tyre were fall'n; and raging Flames
O'er Tops of Houses, and of Temples roll'd.

Half dead, amaz'd, and trembling with Affright,
Her Sister heard; she tears her Visage, beats
Her Breast, and rushing thro' the midst calls loud
Upon the dying Queen. Was it for This,
My Sister? Did you then with study'd Fraud
Deceive me? And for This did I prepare
The Pile? These Altars? and the holy Fires?

275

What shall I first complain of, thus forlorn?
Did you disdain to let your Sister die,
And share Fate with you? Me you should have call'd
To the same Death; We should have perish'd Both
In the same Hour, and by the same Despair.
I too This Pile erected; and invok'd
Our Country-Gods: Ah! wherefore? That I might
Be absent, Cruel! at your Hour of Death?
Me, Sister, and Your self you have destroy'd;
Your City, our Sidonian Lords; and all
The State. Bring Water from the limpid Stream;
I'll bathe her Wounds, and catch her straggling Breath;
If any yet hang hov'ring o'er her Lips.

So saying, she ascends the lofty Pile;
And her expiring Sister in her Arms
Embraces, sighing deep; and with her Robe
Dries up the clotted Gore. She strives with pain
To lift her heavy Lids, and fainting sinks;
The Wound infix'd sounds deep beneath her Breast.
Thrice, leaning on her Arm, she feebly rais'd
Her Body; Thrice roll'd back upon the Bed:
With swimming Eyes seeks the last Light of Heav'n,
And groans to find it. Then the Wife of Jove,
Pitying her tedious Pangs, and struggling Death,
Sends Iris from above, to disengage

276

Her agonizing Soul. For since she fell
Neither by Fate, nor by a Death deserv'd;
But dy'd unfortunate before her Time,
Transported by a sudden Passion's rage:
As yet Proserpina her yellow Hair
Had not shorn off; nor to the Stygian Shades
Consign'd her. Iris then, with saffron Wings,
Dewy, and drawing from th'opposing Sun
A thousand various Colours in the Sky,
Alighted swift; and hov'ring o'er her Head,
This Lock to Pluto sacred, by Command,
I bear; and from This Body set thee free.
She said; and with her Right hand cut the Lock;
At once the vital Heat is all extinct,
And Life dissolving fleets into the Winds.

The End of the Fourth Book.

277

BOOK the Fifth.

280

Meanwhile Æneas gain'd the middle Sea,
Bent on his Voyage; and before the Wind
Plough'd the dark Waves; back looking on the Walls,
Which now with hapless Dido's fun'ral Blaze
Shone red: What Cause had lighted such a Flame,
Was secret; But the Knowledge of Despair
Implacable, from violated Love,
And what a frantick Woman's Rage could do,
To sad Presage incline the Trojans' Breasts.

Now on the full extended Main, the Land
No more appear'd; but All was Sea, and Sky:
A dusky Cloud hung gather'd o'er his Head,
Bringing on Night, and Storm; Upon the Waves
Lay horrid Darkness: From the lofty Deck
The Pilot's self, ev'n Palinurus, cries,

281

What Clouds, alas! invelop all the Heav'ns?
Or what, great Neptune, does thy Will intend?
This said, he gives Command to furl their Sails,
And strongly ply their Oars: Then turns oblique
His Canvass to the Wind, and Thus proceeds.
Magnanimous Æneas, should ev'n Jove
By promising assure my Voyage safe;
I could not in This Weather hope to reach
The Coasts of Italy: The Winds transverse
Roar chang'd, and from the low'ring West arise;
And all the Air is thicken'd to a Cloud.
Nor have we Strength to bear against the Stress
Of Sea, and Sky: Since Fortune all o'erpow'rs;
Her let us follow, and where-e'er she calls,
Direct our Course. Nor is the Distance great,

282

As I conceive, to Eryx' faithful Shores,
Fraternal Coasts, and to Sicanian Ports;
If I rememb'ring rightly trace the Stars.

Then good Æneas; So indeed I long
Observ'd the Winds require, and you in vain
Oppose them: Turn your Sails: Is there a Land
To me more acceptable, and on which
I sooner would desire our Ships should rest;
Than That, in which reserv'd for me survives
Trojan Acestes? And whose Bosom holds
My Sire Anchises' Bones? This said, they steer
Strait to the Port: Th'auspicious Zephyrs swell
Their Sails; The Fleet bounds swiftly o'er the Deep;
And joyous on the well-known Shore at length
They land. Them distant on a Mountain's height,
Admiring their Arrival, and the Ships
Of his lov'd Countrymen, Acestes meets,
With Jav'lins arm'd, and horrid in the Hide
Of a rough Libyan Bear. He to the River
Crimisus, of a Trojan Mother born,
And not unmindful of his ancient Race,
With Gratulation welcomes their Return,
His rustick Entertainment joyful gives,
And with his friendly Aid relieves their Toils.

283

Soon as the Morn, fresh smiling from the East,
Had put the Stars to flight; from all the Shore
Æneas summons his assembled Friends,
And Thus bespeaks them from a rising Ground.
Ye gen'rous Trojans, sprung from Blood Divine;
One yearly Circle is by rolling Months
Complete, since in the Grave we laid to rest
The Mortal Relicks of my Godlike Sire;
And consecrated Fun'ral-Altars rais'd.
And now That Day, if I remember right,
Is come, by me (so You, ye Gods, decreed)
For ever honour'd, and for ever mourn'd.
This Day did I on Libya's barren Sands
In Exile live, or on the Grecian Sea
Detain'd, or in Mycenæ; annual Vows
Ev'n Then I would perform, and solemn Pomps;
And on his Altars pile th'Oblations due.
Now to my Father's self, his Bones, and Dust
(Not without Providence, and Heav'n's Design,
As I suppose,) we come, and enter safe
These friendly Ports. Come on then; let us all
Honour This Festival with Joy, implore
From Him propitious Winds, and Leave to pay

284

These annual Oblations, when our Walls
Are built, and Temples sacred to Him stand.
Two Heads of Kine Acestes sprung from Troy
Gives you for ev'ry Ship; Invite the Gods,
Your Own, and His, to celebrate the Feast.
Besides; If on the Ninth returning Morn
The Day shall smile serene, and with it's Beams
Brighten the World; I will appoint a Prize
First to our Naval Trojan Crew; Our Ships
Shall try their Swiftness: Next whoe'er excels
In Running; or, confiding in his Strength,
Lances the Jav'lin, or the feather'd Shaft;
Or with the rigid Gauntlet dares the Fight;
Let all be present, and expect Rewards
Adjudg'd to Victors: With your Voices all

285

Assenting join, and bind your Heads with Boughs.

He said; and with his Mother's Myrtle-wreath
His Temples crowns: The same does Elymus,
And old Acestes; young Ascanius next;
Then all the Youth. Directly to the Tomb
He from th'Assembly goes, by Thousands round
Attended: For Libation here he pours
Two Bowls of Wine unmix'd upon the Ground,
Two of warm Milk, and two of holy Blood;
Then scatters purple Flow'rs, and Thus he speaks.

Hail sacred Sire! Again, ye Ashes, hail,
In vain revisited! And Thou, the Ghost
Of Him who gave me Birth! The Gods deny'd
To Us, with Thee, to gain th'Italian Shore,
Ausonian Tyber, and the fatal Fields.

He said; And from the Bottom of the Shrine
A skipp'ry Serpent, vast, sev'n Volumes roll'd,
Sev'n Spires; he gently twines around the Tomb,

286

And o'er the Altar glides: Cerulean Streaks,
And burnish'd Spots, distinct with Drops of Gold,
Brighten'd his Back, and glitt'ring Scales: As when
From th'adverse Sun the show'ry Bow reflects
A thousand various Colours in the Clouds.
Æneas wonders at the Sight: The Snake,
Drawing in length his sinuous, tardy Train,
Among the Jars, and polish'd Goblets slides,
And softly licks the Feast; then harmless creeps
Back to the Bottom of the Tomb, and leaves
The tasted Altars. He the more renews

287

The destin'd Honours to his Father's Shade;
Uncertain, whether to their Sight appear'd
The Genius of the Place, or of his Sire.
Five Sheep, obsequious to th'accustom'd Rite,
He sacrifices; next, as many Sows,
And Heifers black; then pours the Wine from Bowls,
Invoking great Anchises' Soul, dismiss'd
From Acheron. Nor less his Friends, as Each
With Store was furnish'd, offer Gifts, and load
The Altars, sacrificing Oxen slain:
Others in order Cauldrons fix; and, stretch'd
Along the Grass, o'er Heaps of burning Coals
Place Spits, and fry the Entrails on the Fire.

Th'expected Day was come; And Phœbus' Steeds
Brought the ninth Morning with unclouded Light:
Loud Rumour, and the great Acetes' Name
Excite the neighb'ring States; With shouting Crouds
They fill the Shore; to see the Trojans, All,
And Some to try their Fortune in the Games.
First in the Centre of the Cirque are plac'd
The Prizes; sacred Tripods, Wreaths of Greens,
And Palms for Victors; Arms, and purple Robes,
Talents of massy Silver, and of Gold:
And from the Middle of the high-rais'd Earth

288

The Trumpet's Sound proclaims the Sports begun.

First four selected Ships, from all the Fleet,
Equal, begin the Strife with pond'rous Oars.
His swiftly-sailing Pristis Mnestheus plies
With sturdy Rowers; Mnestheus, after made

289

Italian, Author of the Memmian Line:
And Gyas in the huge Chimæra rides,
A City's Work; Her with a triple Tire
The Trojan Youth impel; Three Banks of Oars
Ascend: Sergestus, whom the Sergian House
It's Founder boasts, in the vast Centaur sails:
And Scylla of cerulean Colour bears

290

Cloanthus, first of the Cluentian Race.

There stood a Rock at distance in the Main,
Against the foaming Shore; at certain times
O'erwhelm'd and beaten by the swelling Waves,
When North-East Winds tempestuous hide the Stars:
In Calms it quiet rests; and in the Sea
Unmov'd, a Field appears, a Station fit
For Cormorants, when pruning in the Sun.
Here Prince Æneas from a leafy Oak,
To guide the Sailors, plants a verdant Goal;
From whence they should return, and round direct
In long Circumference their winding Course.
Then All by Lot their places take; and first
The Chiefs in Gold, and Crimson, stand, from far
Effulgent on the Decks: The other Youth
With poplar Wreaths are shaded; Smear'd with Oil
Their naked Shoulders shine: Upon their Seats
With strong-brac'd Arms intent they grasp their Oars,
Intent expect the Signal: Throbbing Fear
Beats in their Breasts, and anxious Love of Praise.
Soon as the Trumpet loudly sounds, at once
All from their Barriers spring; The Shouts confus'd
Of Sailors rend the Vault of Heav'n; The Sea

291

Turn'd upward froths beneath their dashing Arms:
At once they plough the Brine; and all the Deep
Yawns wide, convuls'd with Oars, and trident Beaks.
With Force less rapid, starting from their Bounds,
The Chariots whirl, and smoke along the Field;
Less earnestly the eager Charioteers
O'er their swift Horses shake the waving Reins,

292

Hang prone upon the Lash, and bending fly.
Then with the Party-favour of the Croud,
With Shouts, and mix'd Applauses, all the Grove
Resounds; The Shores included roll the Noise;
And from the echoing Hills the Voice returns.
Amidst the Throng, and Hurry on the Waves,
Before the rest, first Gyas scuds away:
Him next Cloanthus follows, with his Oars
More happy; but his Vessel by it's Weight
Detains him tardy: After These, with Sails
Equal, the Pristis, and the Centaur strive
To run the foremost; Now the Pristis gains,

293

Now the huge Centaur wins on Her; Now Both
Together with united Fronts are born:
And the long Gallies plough the briny Deep.
They now approach'd the Rock, and reach'd the Goal;
When Gyas first, and Victor, in mid Sea
Calls to Menætes, Pilot of his Ship;
Whither so far decline you to the Right?
Hither direct your Steerage, love the Shore,
And let our Rowers raze the left-hand Rocks;
Leave Others to the Deep. He said; But old
Menætes, fearing hidden Shelves, detorts
His Rudder to the Ocean: Why so far
Diverse, Menætes? Nearer to the Shore,

294

Gyas again calls out aloud; and sees
Cloanthus close, and pressing on his Stern:
He, betwixt Gyas, and the sounding Rocks,
Interiour, skims the left-hand way, and swift
Outstrips his Rival, and beyond the Goal
Smooth shoots along, and gains the safer Seas.
The Youth, with Rage and Disappointment fir'd,
(Tears running down his Cheeks) his Dignity
Forgetting, and the Safety of his Friends,
Push'd slow Menætes from the high-built Deck
Precipitate into the Sea; Himself
As Pilot takes his Place, exhorting loud
His Crew, and turns the Rudder to the Shore.
But old Menætes, from the Bottom deep
At length emerging, heavy in his wet,
And brine-drench'd Garments, crawling, climb'd the Top
Of the tall Rock, and sate upon the Dry.
The Trojans laugh'd, to see him fall, and swim;
And from his Breast disgorge the brackish Waves.
This unexpected Change with eager Hope
Fires Mnestheus, and Sergestus, lagging last,
To vanquish Gyas thus retarded. First
Sergestus takes his place, and to the Rock
Approaches; yet not all his Vessel first,
Part first, the Rival Pristis presses part
Close with her Beak. Then Mnestheus, thro' the Crew
Walking along the Middle of his Deck,

295

Excites his Mates: Now, now, Hectorean Band,
Rise to your Oars; You, whom from ruin'd Troy
I chose Associates: now That Strength exert,
That Spirit which you shew'd on Libyan Sands,
Th'Iönian Sea, and Malea's tumbling Waves.
Mnestheus now strives not to be crown'd the first;
Yet Oh!—But let Those conquer, whom thy Pow'r,
Great Neptune, favours: Let us yet disdain
To be the last; So far o'ercome, my Friends,
And That Disgrace forbid. With utmost Force
They tug their Oars; With vast repeated Strokes
The beaky Vessel trembles; And the Sea
Flies back: The panting Labour shakes their Limbs,
And clammy Mouths; Sweat flows in Rivers round.
Fortune to These the wish'd for Honour gave:
For while Sergestus, furious in the Strife,

296

And heedless, urg'd his Foredeck to the Shelves,
Interiour, and within a narrow Space
Of Sea confin'd; amidst the jutting Rocks
He stuck, unfortunate: The Rocks rebound;
Among their craggy Points the stubborn Oars
Stand cracking, bent; The Foredeck shatter'd hangs:
The Crew of Sailors rise, and clamour loud,

297

Detain'd, embarass'd; Iron Spikes, and Poles
Of sharpen'd Oak they ply; and on the Gulf,
Industrious, gather up the broken Oars.
But Mnestheus joyful, and with That Success
Itself more vig'rous, with his rowing Croud,
And all the Winds invited to his Sails,
Gains the prone Deep, and swiftly shoots away
Upon the open Ocean. As a Dove,
Which in some hollow Pumice feeds her Young,
Rous'd on a sudden from her Covert, flies
Into the Fields; and, scar'd, with flutt'ring Noise
Against the Roof her sounding Pinions beats:
Then, smoothly gliding thro' the quiet Air,
Skims the thin Way, nor moves her nimble Wings.
So Mnestheus, so the Pristis' self divides
Th'extremest Ocean; so the Force impress'd

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Itself impels her flight: And first she leaves
Sergestus struggling with the lofty Rock,
Pent up among the narrow Shelves, in vain
Calling for Help, and learning how to run
With broken Oars. Then Gyas, and the huge
Chimæra's Bulk he follows; She, because
She lost her Pilot, yields. Cloanthus now
Alone remains, just ent'ring in the Port;
Him he pursues, and with his utmost Strength
Close urges: Now the Noise redoubles; All
With Shouts encourage him; The Sky resounds
With deaf'ning Clamour. These disdain to lose
Th'Advantage they have gain'd, and burn to stake
Their Lives for Glory: Those Success inspires;
They can, because 'tis thought they can: And Both

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Perhaps had born the Prize with equal Keels;
Had not Cloanthus, stretching to the Sea
His Hands, Thus vow'd, and Thus invok'd the Gods.
Ye Gods, who rule the Ocean which I sail;
Victor before your Altars, on This Shore,
To you a snow-white Bull I will present,
Oblig'd by Vow; and on the briny Deep

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Scatter the Entrails, pouring purest Wine.
He said; And him beneath the lowest Waves
The whole Assembly of the Nereids heard,
And Phorcus, and the Virgin Panopea;
And old Portunus with his ample Palm
Himself push'd on the Vessel: She more swift
Than Wind, or feather'd Arrow, flies to Land,
Within the Harbour's deep Recess secure.
Æneas then, observant of the Form
By Custom fix'd, together calls the whole
Assembly; by the Herald's Voice aloud
Declares Cloanthus Victor; and his Brow
With verdant Laurel crowns. On ev'ry Ship
Three Heifers, to be chosen, he bestows,
A silver Talent's massy Weight, and Wine,
As Prizes. To the Conqu'ror first he gives
A Cloak, with Gold embroider'd, edg'd with Fringe

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Of Melibœan Purple, doubly round
Entwining: And on Ida's leafy Top
The Royal Boy, inwoven, with his Darts
Urges in Chase the flying Deer, intent,
And panting in the Colours; Him the Bird
Of Jove, descending swiftly from the Sky,
Born on his hooky Talons snatch'd aloft:
The aged Keepers stretch their Hands to Heav'n
In vain; And angry Dogs bark high in Air.
To Him whose Merit held the Second place
A Coat of Mail he gives, compact with Hooks,
And wrought with triple Tissue, to defend
At once, and deck the Warriour; Which himself
Victor near rapid Simois, and the Walls
Of lofty Troy, had from Demoleus torn:
Two Servants, Sagaris, and Phlegeas, scarce
Could with joint Strength upon their Shoulders bear
The various Vestment; Yet in This long since
Demoleus clad, the straggling Trojans drove.
Two Brazen Cauldrons to the Third he gives,
And Silver Bowls with Figures rough emboss'd.
And now rewarded All, and proud with Wealth,
They walk'd in pomp, with purple Fillets bound
About their Heads: When with much Art, and Pain,

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Torn from the cruel Rock, his Oars half lost,
And one Side maim'd, Sergestus tugg'd along
His slow dishonour'd Skiff. As when a Snake
Is catch'd (as oft it happens) on a Ridge
Of rising Ground; whose Body cross'd aslant
A brazen Wheel has mangled on the Road;
Or some sour Passenger with heavy Blow
Has left half dead, and shatter'd with a Stone:
He flying twists his Length in tortuous Wreaths,
Part fierce with ardent Eyes, and hissing Tongue,
Uprears aloft his swelling Neck in Air;

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Part damag'd by the Wound, retards him crush'd,
Wriggling his Spires, and knitting Knots in vain.
With such a Kind of Steerage, mov'd along
The sluggish Gally; Yet she makes her Sails,
And enters with full Gale the Harbour's Mouth.
Æneas, joyful for his Friends and Ship
Return'd in Safety, to Sergestus gives
The Prize allotted, Pholoë, a Slave
Of Crete, not ignorant of Pallas' Art,
And her two infant Sons beneath her Breasts.

This Sport thus ended; good Æneas goes
Into a grassy Plain, begirt around
With Woods on winding Hills: Amidst a Vale
A Theatre's wide Cirque was form'd; to which
The Hero with a Croud of Thousands went,
And in the Middle of th'Assembly sate.
Here Those who in the rapid Race would strive
With Prizes he invites: From ev'ry Part

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The mingled Trojans, and Sicilians come;
First Nisus, and Euryalus:
Euryalus, by beauteous blooming Youth
Distinguish'd; Nisus, by the pious Love
He bore the Stripling: Next to These appears
Diores, born of Priam's Royal Blood;
Salius, and Paran next, Acarnian That,
And This Arcadian, sprung from Tegea's Race:
Then two Trinacrian Youths; This, Elymus,
That, Panopes, in Wood-land Countries bred;
Who Followers of old Acestes came:
With many more, whom Fame obscure conceals.
Them Thus Æneas in the Midst bespeaks.
Mark well my Words, and pleas'd Attention lend:
Not One of all This Number shall from me
Go unrewarded; I'll on each bestow
Two Gnossian Jav'lins, bright with polish'd Steel,
And a carv'd Battle-axe, with Silver wrought.
This Honour shall be One to All; the Three
Who first excel, shall diff'rent Prizes share,
And with pale Olive bind their Heads: The First
A Steed enrich'd with Trappings shall receive;
The Next an Amazonian Quiver, fill'd
With Thracian Arrows, which a Belt around
Incloses with broad Gold, a Buckle clasps
With round smooth Diamond: Be the Third content
With This Argolick Shield. He said; They take
Their Stations: And, the Signal giv'n, at once,

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Fleet as a Tempest, out they spring, and leave
The Bounds, fly o'er the Field, and mark the Goal.
Nisus the First, and long before the rest,
Swift shoots away; more swift than Winds, or Wings
Of Light'ning. Next, but far at distance next,
Him Salius follows: Near to Him, the Third
Euryalus:
Him Elymus succeeds: Whom pressing close,
Diores flies; and justles Heel with Heel,
Imminent o'er his Shoulder; and had Room
More wide been giv'n him, foremost he had sprung,
Or left him doubtful. Now they panting reach'd
The utmost Line, and almost touch'd the Goal:
When Nisus, sliding on the slipp'ry Gore,
Which there by chance, from Oxen slain, besmear'd
The Ground, and verdant Grass, his tott'ring Steps
Could not support; but now, ev'n Victor, fell,
Prone in the Mire obscene, and sacred Blood,
Unfortunate: Yet not unmindful Then

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Of Friendship, and Euryalus, oppos'd
Himself to Salius, from the slipp'ry place
Rising: He, tumbling on the clotted Sand,
Extended lay; Euryalus springs on,
And, Victor by th'Assistance of his Friend,
Comes in the First, with Shouts, and mix'd Applause.
To Him the Next comes Elymus; and now
Diores Third. Here Salius loud with Noise
Fills the vast Cirque; and to the aged Lords
Appealing, claims the Honour which he lost
By Treachery: Th'Affections of the Court
Favour Euryalus, his graceful Tears,
And Virtue heighten'd by his beauteous Form.
Diores loudly aids That Plea, who came
In vain entitled to the Last Reward,
If Salius gains the First. Then Thus the Prince;
Unchang'd, my Youths, your Prizes all remain;
Nor is the Order of your Palms displac'd:
Only permit me to commiserate
Th'unhappy Fortune of my guiltless Friend.
This said; a huge Getulian Lion's Hide
He gives to Salius, rough with heavy Furr,
And golden Claws. Here Nisus; If so great
Your Pity for the Fall'n; And such Rewards
Attend the Vanquish'd: What due Prize remains
For Nisus? who deserv'd the choicest Palm;

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Had he not met the same unlucky Chance,
Which Salius shar'd: Then, pointing, shew'd his Face,
And Limbs, all smear'd with gory Dirt. On Him
The Prince smiles graceful; and commands to bring
A Shield, the Work of Didymaon's Art,
Torn by the Grecians from the sacred Posts
Of Neptune; and with That excelling Gift
Distinguishes the well-deserving Youth.

The Race thus ended, and the Honours paid;
Now whosoe'er has Courage, and a Mind
Present within his Breast, let Him approach;
With Gauntlets bind his Hands, and raise his Arms.
He said; And for the Combate two Rewards

308

Propos'd; the Victor's Prize, a Bull adorn'd
With Gold, and Wreaths; a Sword, and burnish'd Helm,
The Solace of the Vanquish'd. No Delay
Was interpos'd: Forthwith uprises stern,
Dares; and, with the Murmur of the Croud,

309

Rears his rough Visage, and prodigious Strength:
He who alone with Paris durst contend,
And at great Hector's Tomb struck down to Earth
Butes renown'd for Conquests, and of Bulk
Unwieldy, boasting his Bebrycian Race
In long Descent from Amycus deriv'd;
And stretch'd him dead upon the yellow Sand.
Such Dares was; and such he first uprears
His lofty Head, provoking to the Strife,
Shews his broad Shoulders, his alternate Arms
Protends, and in mock Duel beats the Air.
For him a Match is sought; nor dares ev'n One
From all That vast Assembly to approach
The Challenger, or arm his Hands for Fight.

310

He vaunting then, and thinking all declin'd
The Contest, stands before Æneas' Feet;
No more demurs, but with his Left hand holds
The Bullock's Horn, and Thus proceeds. If None
Durst try the Combate; where will be the end
Of waiting thus? How long must I delay?
Command me, Goddess-born, to take the Prize.
A gen'ral Murmur thro' th'Assembly ran;
And all the Trojans with one Voice concur,
To aid their Champion's Claim. Acestes here
Thus chides Entellus with reproaching Words,
As next upon the grassy Bank he sate:
Entellus, bravest Hero once in vain;
Will you so patient suffer such a Prize
Without Contention to be born away?
Where is our Eryx, vainly boasted God,
Your Master? Where your Fame thro' all This Isle
Renown'd? and Trophies hanging round your Roof?
To whom Entellus; 'Tis not that the Love
Of Praise and Glory has my Breast thro' Fear
Abandon'd: But my Blood by freezing Age
Is cold, retarded; and my Strength benumb'd
Within my sapless Trunk: Did now That Youth
Which once I had, and which yon Varlet proud
So confidently boasts, did That remain;

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I had not hither come, induc'd by Hope
Of This Reward, This comely-shapen Bull;
Nor value I the Prize. This said, he flings
Into the Midst two Gauntlets huge, of weight
Enormous; Those which warlike Eryx wore
In Fight, and whose stiff Leather brac'd his Arms.
Amaz'd were All; so vast the sev'n tough Hides
Of Bulls, with Lead and Iron sewn within:
But more than all the rest, the Champion's self
Dares, aghast, and at a distance stands,
Refusing; And th'illustrious Trojan Chief
This way, and That, turns round the pond'rous Folds
Immense: Him Thus the aged Sire bespeaks.
What had been said, had Any here beheld
The Arms, and Gauntlets, brandish'd heretofore
By Hercules himself? and That dire Fight,
Here, on This Ground? These very Weapons once
Your Brother Eryx wore; You see them still
Besmear'd with Gore, and spatter'd Brains; With These
He stood against the great Alcides: These
I us'd, while better Blood supply'd me Strength,
Nor envious Age as yet had interspers'd
My Temples: But if Trojan Dares thinks
These Arms unequal, and his pious Prince,
And King Acestes have the same decreed;
Let us have due Proportion in the Strife:
Dares, dismiss thy Terrour; I remit
Great Eryx' Weapons; And do Thou, thy self,

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Put off thy Trojan Gauntlets. Thus he spoke;
And from his Shoulders flings his double Vest,
Strips his huge Limbs, huge Bones, and brawny Arms;
And in the Midst with mighty Stature stands.
Then Prince Æneas equal Gauntlets brings,
And binds the Wrists of Both with equal Weight.
Forthwith, erect, and high upon their Toes,
Both stand, and fearless raise their Arms in Air;
Lean back their lofty Heads, to shun the Stroke,
Mix Hands with Hands, and irritate the Fight.
The one excelling in his nimble Feet,
And confident in Youth; The other strong
In Limbs, and Bulk; but slow with trembling Knees
He staggers; and the panting Labour shakes
His huge-built Trunk. In vain repeated Wounds
They aim alternate; On their hollow Flanks
The Strokes redoubled ring; Their throbbing Breasts
Are batter'd with loud Noise; The bandy'd Blows
Err round their Ears, and Temples; And beneath
The rigid Lead their cracking Jaws resound.
Firm by his Weight in one fix'd Posture stands
Entellus; with his Body, and quick Eyes
Alone, eluding his Assailant's Strokes.
He, like a Warriour, who a lofty Town
Assaults by Storm; or under Arms besets
A Castle on a Hill, now These, now Those

313

Approaches tries, the Place all round with Art
Exploring; and with various Efforts vain
Urges his Foe. Entellus shews his Arm
Rais'd high; The other swift foresees the Blow
Descending from his Head, and nimbly slips
Aside: Entellus on the empty Air
Loses his Strength, and heavy to the Ground
Falls with vast Weight; As falls an hollow Pine,
Torn from the Roots, on Erymanthus' Top,
Or lofty Ida. Eagerly intent
The Trojans, and Trinacrian Youth arise;
Heav'n rings with Shouts; And first Acestes ran,
And from the Ground, commiserating, rais'd
His Friend of equal Age. But, not dismay'd,
Nor by his Fall retarded, to the Fight
The Hero with redoubled Force returns;
Rouses his Strength with Rage; Shame fires his Soul,
And conscious Worth: O'er all the Field he drives
Dares precipitate; now with the right,
Now with the left, reit'rating his Blows;
Nor Pause, nor Respite: Thick as Hail in Storms
Rattles on Roofs, with such repeated Strokes,
This way, and That, the Hero with both Hands
Buffets his Foe; and turns, and whirls him round.
Then Prince Æneas could no farther bear
Such Fury to proceed, nor see the Rage
Of fierce Entellus: But decides the Fight,
And rescues fainting Dares; with These Words
Consoling him: Unhappy! has so great
A Frenzy seiz'd thee? Dost thou not perceive
A Force unequal, and thy Fortune chang'd?

314

Yield to a God. He said; and with his Voice
Ended the Combate. Him, with tott'ring Pace
Trailing his Legs along, on either side
Swagging his Head, and belching from his Throat
Thick Clots of Gore, and Teeth commix'd with Blood;
His Mates, officious to their vanquish'd Friend,
Lead to the Ships: They take the Helm, and Sword;
And to Entellus leave the Bull, and Palm.
The Victor here exulting in his Prize,
And proud of Conquest; See, O Goddess-born,
And You, ye Trojans, know from hence, what Strength
My Body in it's youthful Days could boast,
And from what Death This Dares you preserv'd.
Thus having spoke, against the Bull's stern Front,
The Conqu'ror's Prize, full opposite he stood;
And just between his Horns, with Arm swung back,
And rising to the Blow, he pois'd direct
The massy Gauntlet; and between the Bones
Deep dash'd it in his Brains: Down falls the Beast,
Dead, trembling, to the Ground. Then o'er him Thus
The Champion speaks: In lieu of Dares' Death,
Eryx, to thee This better Life I pay;

315

Here Victor I resign my Art, and Arms.

Forthwith Æneas to the Sports invites
All who with feather'd Shafts would try their Skill,
And names the Prizes. With his ample Hand
He from Serestus' Ship a Mast erects,
And on it by a Rope suspended ties
A swift-wing'd Dove; at which they all should aim
Their Arrows: They assemble; and the Lots
Shuffled into a brazen Casque are thrown.
With fav'ring Shouts Hippocoon First appears,
Offspring of Hyrtacus: Then Mnestheus Next,
So lately Victor in the Naval Strife,
And crown'd with Olive-Greens: Eurytion Third,

316

Brother to Thee, O Pandarus renown'd,
Who once, commanded to dissolve the League,
Didst first among the Grecians hurl a Dart:
Acestes to the Helmet's bottom sinks,
The Last; himself presuming to attempt
The Sports of Youth. Then All with manly Strength
Bend their tough Eugh; each with his utmost Force;
All from their Quivers draw their Shafts: And first
Shot from the twanging Nerve Hippocoon's flies
Along the Sky, divides the liquid Air,
And on the Body of the Mast adverse
Stands fix'd? The Mast, and frighted Bird at once
Tremble; And all the Cirque with Shouts resounds.
Next eager Mnestheus with his bended Bow
Stands ready, and his Eyes and Arrow aim'd
Directs to Heav'n; yet could not reach the Dove
Her self, unfortunate; but cut the Knots,
And hempen Ligaments, in which she hung
Ty'd by the Feet upon the lofty Mast:
She flies into the Winds, and dusky Clouds.
Eurytion then impatient, and long since
Holding his ready Bow, and fitted Steel,
Invokes his Brother; and, in open Air
Seeing the Dove now shake her sounding Wings,
Transfixes her amidst the Clouds: The Bird
Falls dead, and leaves her Life among the Stars;
And, tumbling, in her Body brings him back
His sticking Arrow. The victorious Palm
Thus lost, Acestes now alone remains;

317

Yet throws a Shaft into the empty Air,
Shewing at once his Art, and sounding Bow.
Here to their Eyes a Prodigy appears,
Sudden, important: Which in after-times
The great Event declar'd; And Prophets skill'd
In Augury, and dire Portents, tho' late,
Explain'd the Omen. For in liquid Clouds
The flying Arrow kindled; mark'd its Way
With Flames; and vanish'd in the fleeting Winds.
As Stars oft falling draw a fiery Trail
Of Hair, and whizzing shoot along the Sky.
Amaz'd the Trojans, and Trinacrians stand,
And pray the Gods: Nor does th'illustrious Chief
Refuse the Omen; but embracing close
Joyful Acestes, loads him with his Gifts
Magnificently great, and Thus proceeds.
Father, take you the Prize; For Heav'n's high King

318

To You, by such auspicious Signs reveal'd,
Honour above the common Lot decrees.
This Present of Anchises' self receive,
A Bowl emboss'd with Figures, which long since
Thrëician Cisseus to my Father gave,
To old Anchises; as a lasting Pledge,
And Monument of Friendship. Thus he spoke;
And with a verdant Laurel crown'd his Head;
And to Acestes gave the Victor's Name.
Nor did the good Eurytion disallow
That Preference of Honour; tho' himself
Alone transfix'd the Bird among the Clouds.
The Next Reward to Him is giv'n, who cut

319

The hempen Ligaments; the Fourth, to Him
Who lodg'd his feather'd Arrow in the Mast.

But good Æneas, having not dismiss'd
As yet the solemn Sports, Epitydes
The Governour of young Iülus calls,
And whispers Thus into his faithful Ear.
Go; bid Ascanius, if his Troop of Boys
Be ready, and his Steeds prepar'd for View,
Bring to his Grandsire's Tomb his young Brigade;
And shew himself in Arms. Thus having spoke,
He bids retire into a Circuit wide
The mingled Croud; and clears the spacious Field.
The Striplings march in Ranks, and shine alike
On manag'd Steeds before their Parents' Eyes:
Them, as they go, with Murmurs of Applause
The Trojan and Trinacrian Youth admire:
All had their Hair, by Rite accustom'd, press'd
With Garlands shorn: All bore two cornel Spears
Prefix'd, and sharpen'd with a Point of Steel:
Some smooth light Quivers on their Shoulders wore;
And o'er their Breasts, about their Necks, hung down
A winding Circle of obtorted Gold.
Three Troops of Horse are form'd; Three Chiefs ride round;

320

And following each of These twelve Warriour Boys,
In Corps distinct, with equal Leaders, shine.
One youthful Band exulting Priam led,
Bearing his Grandsire's Name; thy Princely Son,
Polites, destin'd after to increase
Th'Italians: Him a Thracian Courser bore
Distinct with Spots; his Fore-feet mark'd with White,
His snow-white Forehead toss'd aloft in Air.
Atys the Next; from whom the Attian Race
Of Romans come; Atys, the beauteous Boy,
And by the young Iülus lov'd: The Last,
And graceful in his Bloom, above them All,
Iülus shines on his Sidonian Steed,
Which fairest Dido gave him as a Pledge,
And Monument of Love. The other Youths
Ride on Trinacrian Coursers of the King,
Aged Acestes.
The Trojans with Applause receive their Sons
Anxious for Fame; delight to see them march,
And in their Childrens Looks their Parents trace.
When all th'Assembly, and their Fathers' Eyes,
Proud on their stately Steeds, they had survey'd;

321

To Them prepar'd Epitydes from far
Loud with a Shout, and with his sounding Lash,
The Signal gave: They equally divide;
The three Commanders open their Brigades
In sep'rate Bodies; strait recall'd they wheel
Their Course, and onwards bear their hostile Darts.
Then diff'rent Traverses, on various Ground,
And diff'rent Counter-traverses they form;
Orbs within Orbs alternately involve,
And raise th'Effigy of a Fight in Arms.
Now shew their Backs in Flight; Now furious turn
Their Darts; Now all in Peace together ride.
As when in lofty Crete (so Fame reports)
The Labyrinth of old in winding Walls
A mazy Way inclos'd, a thousand Paths
Ambiguous, and perplex'd: by which the Steps
Should by an Errour intricate, untrac'd
Be still deluded: So the Trojan Boys
Inextricable Motions shift, in Sport
Flying, or fighting; As when Dolphins cut
The Libyan, or Carpathian, skimming o'er
The liquid Deep, and wanton in the Waves.

322

These Tilts, This mimick War, Ascanius first,
When with it's Walls long Alba he inclos'd,
Renew'd, and to the ancient Latins taught;
Which, when a Boy, himself, and his Compeers
Of Trojan Race, had solemnly perform'd:
The Albans taught it Theirs: Hence mighty Rome
In order next receiv'd it: and preserv'd
Her Founder's Honour; and the Striplings now
Troy, or the Trojan Regiment, are call'd.

Thus far to his Celestial Sire were paid
The celebrated Games: Here Fortune first
Inconstant prov'd. While various solemn Sports
Honour his Tomb; down to the Trojan Fleet
Saturnian Juno Iris sends from Heav'n,
And breathes the Winds to speed her airy Course;
Much in her Thoughts revolving: Nor was yet

323

Her ancient Vengeance glutted in her Breast.
The Virgin, seen by none, with wingy Speed
Shoots thro' a thousand Colours of her Bow;
Sees the vast Concourse, and surveys the Strand,
The Ports deserted, and th'abandon'd Fleet.

324

But at a distance, on the Shore retir'd,
The Trojan Dames bewail'd Anchises lost;
All fix'd their weeping Eyes upon the Sea;
So much (alas!) so much of Ocean still
To be o'erpass'd by Us, already tir'd
With Voyaging! was all their gen'ral Cry:
A City they implore; and loath, and dread
The tedious Deep. She therefore, not unskill'd
In Mischief, flings her self into the Midst,
And lays aside her Goddess' Mien, and Dress;
Chang'd into Beröe, the aged Wife
Of Doryclus, deriv'd from Thracian Blood,
For Ancestors and Offspring once renown'd;

325

And Thus among the Trojan Matrons speaks.

O Miserable! whom the Warriour Greeks
Drag'd not to Death before your native Walls;
O wretched Nation! What disastrous Fate
Is still for thee reserv'd? Sev'n Summers now,
After the Ruin of unhappy Troy,
Are roll'd; since We all Lands, so many Rocks
Inhospitable, and so many Stars
Have measur'd: while upon the boundless Deep
We roam, and flying Italy pursue,
Toss'd on the Waves. Behold These kindred Realms
Of Eryx; and Acestes to our Toils
Indulgent: What forbids us here to fix
Our Rest, and give our Citizens a Seat?
O my lov'd Country! and her Gods in vain
Rescu'd from hostile Rage! Shall then no Walls
Be ever giv'n to Troy? Shall then These Eyes
Never again Hectorean Rivers see,
Xanthus, and Simöis? But come, and burn
These luckless Ships, with Me: For in my Dream
The Prophetess Cassandra's Ghost appear'd,
Seeming to give me flaming Brands: Here seek
Your Troy, she cry'd; This is your Mansion: Now
Th'Occasion pushes on the great Event;
Nor are such Prodigies delay'd; Behold
Neptune's four Altars here; The God himself
Gives Fire, and Resolution. Speaking Thus,
With rapid force she snatch'd, and with her Hand
On high uplifted, at a distance wav'd,
And hurl'd the flaming Mischief: In Suspense
Arrect, the Trojan Matrons stand aghast.

326

Here One, the first, the eldest of them all,
Pyrgo, the Royal Nurse of Priam's Sons
So numerous; Think not that here you see
Rhæteian Beröe, the Consort once
Of Doryclus: Observe the Marks Divine
Of Beauty; see the Lightning of her Eyes,
See what her Spirit, what her Looks, and Voice,
And what her Mien, and Manner, as she walks.
My self, long since, left Beröe confin'd
By Sickness, and with Indignation griev'd
That She alone This Festival should want,
Nor pay the Honours to Anchises due.
Thus She.

But with malignant Ken the Trojan Dames
Uncertain first, and doubtful, eye the Ships;
Doubtful, betwixt the fond unlucky Love
Of present Mansions, and the Realms by Fate
Inviting: When, uprais'd on even Wings,
The Goddess mounts into the Air, and cuts
Her Bow of spacious Arch beneath the Clouds.
But at the Prodigy amaz'd, and driv'n
To Madness, from the consecrated Hearths,
Shrieking, they snatch the Fire; the Altars spoil;
Throw Boughs, and Shrubs, and Brands: With loosen'd Reins

327

Among the Benches Vulcan rages fierce,
Among the Oars, and Decks of painted Fir.
Eumelus to the woody Theatre,
And old Anchises' Tomb, the Tidings brings,
The Ships are burning; And Themselves behold
The Smoke, and flying Cinders, in the Sky.
And first Ascanius, as he led in pomp
His Horse-Brigade, swift spurs his rapid Steed,
Just as he was, directly to the Tents
Confus'd; Nor could his Governours, half dead
With Fear, detain Him: What new Frenzy's This,
O miserable Citizens? He cry'd:
Whither? ah! whither would you? Not the Ships
Of hostile Greeks, but your own Hopes you burn;
Me, your Ascanius here behold. This said,
He flung his empty Helmet at his Feet,
With which in Sport He rais'd the mimick War.
Æneas too, and all the Trojan Troops
Together haste: The Matrons, on the Shore,
Fly diverse, struck with Fear; and skulking seek
The Woods, and Caves; Their Enterprize they loath,
And conscious shun the Light; Now chang'd, they own
Their Country, and their Friends: And Juno flies
Driv'n from their Breasts. Yet not for That does aught
The fiery Tempest of it's Force, and Rage
Abate: Beneath the warping Timber lives
The smouldring Tow, and vomits lazy Smoke;
A lingring Vapour eats the Ships, and o'er

328

The Fleet's whole Bulk the pitchy Plague descends.
Nor does the Labour of the Heroes aught
Avail, nor Rivers pour'd upon the Flames.
Then good Æneas from his Shoulders rends
His Robe, invokes th'Assistance of the Gods,
And stretches out his Hands. Almighty Jove,
If all the Trojan be not to a Man
By Thee as yet abhor'd; If human Toils
Thy long experienc'd Goodness aught regard;
This flaming Ruin, Father, from our Ships
Remove, and save the little State of Troy:
Or, what alone remains, here strike me dead,
Transfix'd with Lightning, if I so deserve;
And crush me with thy own avenging Hand.

He scarce had spoke; When black with rushing Rain
A Tempest rag'd enormous, and the Hills
And Fields with Thunder shook; O'er all the Sky
A Show'r with Water dark, and thicken'd Winds,
Turbid descends: The Vessels from above
Are fill'd; The half-burnt Timber drench'd; 'Till all
The Vapour stops extinct; And all the Ships,

329

Four only lost, are from the Pest preserv'd.

Struck to the Heart at this disastrous Chance,
The Trojan Chief now This, now That, revolves
Within his Breast; uncertain in his Cares,
Whether in Sicily he should reside,
Forgetful of the Fates; or seek the Coasts
Of Italy. Then aged Nautes, taught
Alone by Pallas, and with pow'rful Art
Illustrious made, This Oracle pronounc'd,
Explaining what the mighty Wrath of Heav'n
Portended, or the Scheme of Fates requir'd.
He then Æneas with consoling Words
Bespeaks: O Goddess-born, where-e'er the Fates
Call, or recall us, let us follow still;
Whate'er it be, all Fortune is subdu'd
By Patience. You have here of Race Divine
Trojan Acestes; Him your willing Friend,
The Partner of your Cares and Counsels take:
To Him deliver Those who now remain
Superfluous from your Vessels lost, and Those
Who weary loath your glorious Enterprize,
And great Affairs; the aged Sires, and Dames,
Sick of the Sea; and whatsoe'er is weak,
Or timorous of Danger: Sever These
From all the rest; And let them on These Coasts
Fatigu'd possess their Walls: The City's Name

330

Acesta, by Permission, shall be call'd.

This Counsel of his aged Friend inflames
His Breast; which still a thousand Thoughts divide:
And Night, now driving on her sable Car,
Possess'd the Pole: When suddenly the Form
Of old Anchises seem'd to slide from Heav'n;
And from his awful Mouth These Accents fell.
My Son, more dear to me than Life, while Life
Remain'd; my Son inur'd to Trojan Fates;
Hither I come, dispatch'd by Sov'reign Jove,
Who sav'd the Remnant of your Fleet from Fire,
And from high Heav'n at last Compassion shew'd.
Yield to the wise Advice which Nautes gives,
Mature in Age; and to th'Italian Coast
Transport the chosen Youth, the bravest Souls.
A Nation hardy, and of Manners rough,
Must by your Arms in Latium be subdu'd.
But visit first th'Infernal Courts of Dis,
And thro' profound Avernus come, my Son,
To my Embraces: For the impious Gloom
Of Tartarus accurs'd, and dreary Shades
Detain not Me; But in th'Elysian Fields,
And happy Regions of the Blest I dwell.
Thither with copious Blood of Victims black
The Virgin Sibyl shall conduct you; There
Your future Progeny, and Walls by Fate
Allotted, you shall learn. But now farewel:
The dewy Night rolls on her middle Course;
And with his panting Steeds the rising Sun
Severe has breath'd upon me. Thus he said,
And flew, like Smoke, into the fleeting Air.

331

Whither, so sudden, do you whirl away?
Æneas cry'd: Whom do you fly? Or who
Drives you from my Embraces? Having spoke,
He wakes the Embers, and the sleeping Fire;
And with a holy Cake, and Censer fill'd,
The Trojan Lar, and aged Vesta's Shrine
Suppliant adores. Forthwith he calls his Friends,
The chief Acestes; and to Them relates
What Jove commanded, what his much-lov'd Sire
Advis'd, and what Himself had now resolv'd.
Not intricate, or long was the Debate:
Nor does Acestes Those Commands refuse.
They separate the Matrons for the Town;
And leave the willing Populace behind,
Souls nought desirous of immortal Fame.
Themselves renew their Benches, and replace
Their half-burnt Planks upon their Vessels, fit
Their Oars, and Cables; Few, but brave in War.
Mean-while Æneas with a Plough describes
The City's Limits; and by Lot assigns
The Houses; Ilium, and the Seat of Troy
He fixes here: Rejoicing in his Realm
Trojan Acestes a new Court ordains,
Summons the Fathers, and dispenses Laws.
Then to Idalian Venus, on the Top
Of Eryx' Mount, a Temple near the Stars
Is founded; and a spacious sacred Grove,
And Priest, are added to Anchises' Tomb.

332

And now both Nations nine whole Days had spent
In Feasts; and Honour to the Altars paid:
Soft Breezes smooth'd the Sea; and Southern Gales
Frequent again invite them to the Deep:
A loud Lament along the winding Shore
Arises: And embracing, Night, and Day,
Each other they detain: The Dames themselves,
And Those, to whom e'erwhile the Ocean's Face
Seem'd rough, and insupportable it's Gods,
Now willingly would go, and all the Toil
Of Flight endure. Them good Æneas cheers
With friendly Words; and to Acestes, sprung
Of kindred Lineage, weeping recommends.
Three Calves to Eryx, to the Storms a Lamb
He then commands to sacrifice, and loose
The Cables all in order from the Shore.
Himself with Olive-Foliage shorn entwines
His Head; and, standing on the distant Deck,
A Goblet holds, and on the briny Deep
Scatters the Entrails, pouring purest Wine.
A Gale, behind their Stern fresh springing, speeds
Their Course; The Crew with emulation fir'd
Dash the green Waves, and sweep the curling Foam.

But Venus, exercis'd, mean-while, with Cares,
Addresses Neptune Thus, and Thus complains.
The restless Malice, and insatiate Soul

333

Of Juno, force me, Neptune, to descend
To all Intreaties. Her no Length of Time,
No Piety can soften; Nor subdu'd
By Jove's Command, nor by the Doom of Fate,
Does she desist. For Her 'twas not enough
With Hate unutterable to consume
The City from amidst the Phrygian Race,
And thro' all Kinds of Punishment to drag
It's Relicks: Ev'n the Ashes, and the Bones
Of ruin'd Troy she persecutes: The Cause
Of so much Fury She, no doubt, must know.
Your self can witness for me, on the Waves
Of Libya what a Hurricane of late
She rais'd, and mingled all the Sea with Heav'n,

334

Confiding vainly in th'Æolian Storms;
This in Your Realms presuming.
Oh Shame! and Guilt! Ev'n now the Trojan Dames,
Urg'd on by Her, have burnt the Fleet, and forc'd
Their Friends to leave them in a Land unknown.
What yet remains; permit them, I implore,
To sail in safety o'er your Waves, and reach
Laurentian Tyber's Mouth: if I request
Things lawful; if the Fates Those Walls allow.

To whom the Sov'reign of the Deep reply'd:
You, Cytheréan Goddess, may expect
('Tis all but just) whate'er my Realms can give,
Which gave you Birth; and I too have deserv'd
Such Confidence: Oft have I curb'd the Rage,
And wild Confusion of the Seas, and Sky.
Nor less employ'd by Land (I here attest
Xanthus, and Simöis) has been my Care
For your Æneas: When Achilles dash'd
In close Pursuit th'astony'd Trojan Troops
Against the Walls, and many Thousands sent
To Pluto; when th'encumber'd Rivers groan'd;
And Xanthus could not work his Way, nor wind
Himself into the Sea; Æneas then
'Gainst Peleus' mighty Son engag'd, with Gods,
And Strength unequal, in a hollow Cloud
I rescu'd; tho' I labour'd to o'erturn
What my self built, the Walls of perjur'd Troy.
And still the same my Purpose fix'd remains:
Fear not; He safe shall reach th'Avernian Port,

335

Which you desire: One only there shall be,
Whom he shall seek upon the Ocean lost;
One Life for Many shall be giv'n.

When with These Words the awful Sire had cheer'd
The Goddess, and reliev'd her Breast with Joy;
His wild Sea-Steeds he joins in Harness, adds
The foaming Bridles, and diffuses all
The flowing Reins: In his cerulean Car
Lightly he skims the Surface of the Deep:
The Waves subside; The swelling Sea lies smooth
Beneath the thund'ring Axle; And the Clouds
Fly from the vast Horizon. Various then
The Forms of his Retinue; Monstrous Whales,
Old Glaucus' Train, Palæmon Ino's Son,
The nimble Tritons, and all Phorcus' Band;
Thetis, and Melite upon the left,
Nisæe, Spio, and Cymodoce,
Thalia, and the Virgin Panopea.

Here Prince Æneas' thoughtful Mind soft Joy
Alternate sooths: He gives Command with speed
To raise the Masts, with Yards to stretch the Sails;

336

At once They tug the Haulsers all; at once
The left side now unfurl, and now the right,
Now This, now That way, tack at once: The Fleet
With it's own Breezes smoothly ploughs the Waves.
Before them all, first Palinurus leads
Th'embody'd Line; The rest commanded steer
Their Course to Him: And now the dewy Night
Had almost teach'd Heav'n's middle Arch: The Crew,
On the hard Benches stretch'd beneath their Oars,
Relax'd their weary Limbs with pleasing Rest.
When, sliding from the Sky, light Somnus cuts
The dusky Air, and dissipates the Shades;
Thee Palinure, he seeks; to guiltless Thee
Bringing dire Dreams: High on the lofty Deck
He sate, in Phorbas' Shape; and Thus he spoke.
Iäsian Palinure, the Seas themselves
Conduct the Fleet; The even Breezes breathe;
An Hour to Rest is giv'n; Recline thy Head,
And from their Labour steal thy weary Eyes:
My self awhile will execute thy Charge.
To whom, scarce lifting up his heavy Lids,
Thus Palinure replies: And wouldst thou then
Persuade me not to know the Ocean's Face

337

In Calms? And in This Monster to confide?
What! Shall I trust Æneas to the false
Uncertain Winds? I, who so oft have try'd
The faithless Promise of th'unclouded Sky?
He said; And, sticking to the Rudder fast,
Held it, and gaz'd intent upon the Stars.
The God then o'er his Temples shakes a Bough
Wet with Lethæan Dew, and steep'd in Styx;
And, as he strives, dissolves his swimming Eyes.
Scarce had the first surprizing Sleep relax'd
His Limbs; the God, incumbent o'er him, broke
The Stern, and, with a Fragment of the Ship,
Plung'd him precipitate into the Sea,
And often calling on his Friends in vain.
Himself flies swift into the yielding Air.
Yet not the less the Fleet secure pursues
Her Course along the Waves; and fearless sails,
By Neptune's Promise safe. And now they reach'd
The Syrens' Shallows, dang'rous heretofore,
And white with Bones: Ev'n then the distant Rocks
Bellow'd, incessant, with the dashing Tides.
When the brave Prince perceiv'd his floating Ship,

338

Her Pilot lost, to rove without a Guide.
Himself then steers her o'er the darken'd Waves,
Deep groaning; and his hapless Friend, distress'd,
Laments: Thou, Palinurus, who too far
Didst trust the smiling Face of Heav'n, and Sea,
Shalt naked lie upon a Strand unknown.

The End of the Fifth Book.

339

BOOK the Sixth.

344

Weeping He spoke: and loos'd the Navy's Reins;
And at th'Eubœan Coasts, on Cumæ's Shore,
At length arrives. They turn their Prows to Sea:
The biting Anchor moors their Ships; And all
The Beach is cover'd with the winding Sterns.
The youthful Crew upon th'Hesperian Strand
Exulting leap: Part seek the Seeds of Fire
Latent in Veins of Flint; Part seize the Woods,
Thick Haunts of Beasts, and Streams discover'd shew.

But good Æneas to the tow'ring Fane
Repairs, o'er which Apollo high presides;
And to the spacious Cavern, where retir'd

345

The venerable Sibyl dwells; to whom
Prophetick Delius an extensive Soul
And Mind inspires, and future Things reveals.
Now Trivia's Thicket, and the golden Dome
They enter. Dædalus (as Fame reports)
On nimble Pinions flying Minos' Realms,
Advent'rous to commit himself to Air,
And by a wond'rous Voyage sailing, came
To the cold North; and swift on Chalcis' Tow'r
At length alighted. On These Coasts arriv'd,
Phœbus, to Thee the Steerage of his Wings
He consecrated; and a Temple built,
Capacious, vast: Androgeos' Death engrav'd
Adorns the Entrance; Then th'Athenians doom'd
To pay an annual Tribute (harsh Command!)
Sev'n of their Sons; The fatal Urn stands by.
Full opposite the Isle of Crete appears,
Answ'ring the Shore, and rais'd above the Sea.
Here the dire Passion for a Bull is shewn;
Pasiphäe by secret Art inclos'd;
The mingled Species, and the two-form'd Birth,
That Monument of execrable Lust,
The Minotaur. Here That laborious Dome,
And Errour intricate: But Dædalus,
Pitying the Princess, and her boundless Love,
The various Fraud, and Windings of the Maze
Himself unravel'd, guiding with a Thread

346

Her doubtful Steps. And not a little Part
In so renown'd a Sculpture, had but Grief
Permitted him, Thou, Icarus, had'st shar'd:
Twice he assay'd to cast Thy Fate in Gold;
Twice fell the Father's Hands. Now all the Work
Throughout with curious Eyes they would have trac'd;
Had not Achates sent before arriv'd,
With Him, Deïphobe from Glaucus sprung,
Priestess of Trivia, and the Delian God,
Who Thus bespeaks the Prince: 'Tis now no Time
With These Amusements to indulge your Sight;
'Twould more import you, from a Herd untouch'd
To sacrifice, as Custom due requires,
Sev'n Heifers, and as many chosen Sheep.

Thus She; Nor were the sacred Rites delay'd:
The Priestess to the lofty Temple calls
The Trojans. Cut into th'Eubœan Rock
A roomy Cave descended; whither lead
An hundred Entrances of wide Extent,
An hundred Mouths; whence rush as many Sounds,
The Sibyl's Oracles. And now they reach'd
The Portal: When the Virgin, 'Tis the Time
Now to enquire the Doom of Fate; Behold,
The God, the God, she cry'd. While thus she spoke;

347

Before the Doors, her Looks, her Colour chang'd,
Sudden; Her Hair in wild Confusion rose:
Enthusiastick Fury heav'd her Breast,
And throbbing Heart; More large her Form appear'd;
Nor spoke she mortal Accents; when inspir'd
By the more present God. Dost thou delay,
Trojan Æneas, thy Requests, and Vows?
Dost thou delay? she cry'd: For not 'till then
The trembling Fane will open wide it's Mouths.
This said, she silent stood: A chilling Fear
Ran thro' the hardy Trojans' Bones; Their Prince
Thus from his inmost Bosom pour'd his Pray'rs.

Phœbus, who always did'st with Pity view
Troy's pressing Toils, and guide the Dardan Shafts
Of Paris deep into Achilles' Blood:

348

So many Seas surrounding spacious Lands,
Under thy Conduct, I have long explor'd;
The far retir'd Massylians, and the Fields
Extended near the Syrtes: Now at last
We touch the Coasts of flying Italy.
Let it suffice that Destiny thus far
Has persecuted Troy: And all Ye Gods,
And Goddesses, to whom the Dardan State,
And mighty Ilium's envy'd Glory shone
Obnoxious; 'Tis allow'd you now to spare
The Trojan Race: And Thou, Celestial Maid,
Skill'd in Futurity (Realms not undue
By Fate I ask) permit our wand'ring Gods
To fix our Colony on Latium's Coast.
To Phœbus then, and Trivia I will build
A Fane of solid Marble, and appoint
Days festival, to honour Phœbus' Name.
Thee too magnificent Apartments wait
Within my Realms; Thy Fates to us reveal'd,
And secret Oracles I will preserve,
Propitious Maid, and chosen Men ordain.
Only to Leaves commit not, I implore,
Thy Numbers; lest dispers'd they fly, the Sport

349

Of rapid Winds: but vocal sing our Fate.

He ended: But impatient in her Grot
Apollo's swelling Priestess wildly raves;
Reluctant, lab'ring from her Breast to heave
Th'incumbent God: So much the more He curbs
Her foamy Mouth, subdues her madding Heart,
And pressing forms her. Now spontaneous fly
Wide-ope the Cavern's hundred spacious Mouths,
And waft her Oracles into the Air.

O Thou, who hast by Sea such Toils endur'd;
By Land still greater wait thee: On the Coasts
Of Latium (let not That disturb thy Breast)
The Trojans shall arrive; But they shall wish
They never had: Wars, horrid Wars I see,
And Tyber frothing with a Tide of Gore.
Another Simoïs thou shalt not want,
Another Xanthus, other Doric Camps:
A new Achilles is for thee prepar'd
In Italy; and He too Goddess-born:
Nor any where will Juno fail t'attend
The Trojans. Suppliant in distress'd Affairs
Whom shalt thou not, among th'Italian States,
What Towns, what Nations shalt thou not implore?
The Cause of so much Woe shall be again
A foreign Consort to the Trojan Race,
And foreign Nuptials.

350

Submit not Thou to Dangers; but proceed
More daring, than thy Fortune will allow.
The Way to Safety (which you least expect)
Shall from a Grecian City first be shewn.

Thus the Cumæan Sibyl from her Shrine
Sings mystic Verse; and bellows in her Cave,
Involving Truth in Darkness: As she foams,
Apollo shakes the Reins, and goads her Breast.
Soon as her Fury, and her rabid Mouth
Had ceas'd; the Trojan Hero Thus began.

No Face of Toil, or Danger, can to me,
O Virgin, new, or unexpected, rise:
Long have I form'd them all within my Breast,
And preconceiv'd them. One thing I implore;
Since here 'tis said th'infernal Gate of Dis,
And gloomy Acheron's tumultuous Gulf
Are open'd; let me by permitting Fates

351

To my lov'd Father's Sight and Presence go:
Shew Thou the Way, and ope the sacred Doors.
Him on These Shoulders, rescu'd from the Foe,
Thro' Flames, and Storms of hostile Darts, I bore:
He thro' all Oceans, Partner of my Flight,
Infirm, endur'd all Threats of Sea, and Sky,
Beyond his Strength, and what his Age requir'd.
He too commanded me with earnest Pray'r,
Suppliant to beg your Counsels, and approach
Your awful Temple: Pity, I intreat,
Propitious Maid, the Father and the Son:
For You can all things; nor did Hecate
Appoint you o'er th'Avernian Groves in vain.
If Orpheus, trusting in his Thracian Lyre,
And sounding Strings, could free his Consort's Ghost;
If Pollux by alternate Death redeem'd
His Brother, and so often goes, and comes:
Why should I name brave Theseus? or the great
Alcides? And I too descend from Jove.

Thus He before the Altars suppliant pray'd;
Then Thus the Prophetess: Anchises' Son,
Trojan, of Race celestial; The Descent
To Hell is easy; Night and Day the Gate
Of gloomy Dis stands open: But to turn
One's Steps, and re-ascend to upper Air,
There, there's the arduous Task. A few, belov'd
By fav'ring Jove, and by transcendent Worth
Rais'd to the Stars, of heav'nly Parents born,
This Privilege could gain. The middle Space
Is all o'ergrown with Woods, and all around
Inclos'd by black Cocytus' winding Stream.

352

But if so fond a Love, such strong Desire
Inflame thee twice to sail the Stygian Lake,
And twice to visit the Tartarean Gloom,
Delighting to indulge so vast a Toil;
Attend to what must previous be perform'd.
Within a shady Tree there grows retir'd
A Bough, with Leaves, and pliant Sprigs of Gold,
Held sacred to th'Infernal Queen: This Branch
The Grove all covers, and in Vales obscure
The Shades surround: But 'tis allow'd to None
The subterranean Regions to explore,
'Till from That Tree he crops the golden Shoot.
This Gift the fair Proserpina ordains
An Off'ring to her self: The first pluck'd off,
Still other Gold succeeds, another Twig

353

With the same vegetable Metal blooms.
Thou therefore search it with uplifted Eyes,
And crop it with thy Hand, by Rite prescrib'd.
For if the Fates have destin'd thee, with ease
Spontaneous it will bend, and meet thy Touch;
Else, by no Strength or Steel it will be hewn.
Besides, a lifeless Body of thy Friend
There lies (alas! thou know'st it not) and all
The Navy his unbury'd Coarse pollutes;
While thou art here consulting Fate's Decree,
And ling'ring at my Doors: Him first commit
To his due Earth, and hide him in a Tomb;
Black Victims (Those the first Lustrations) bring;
And then at last the Stygian Groves, and Realms
Impervious to the Living thou shalt see.
She ended; and her Mouth in silence clos'd.

Æneas pensive, and with downcast Eyes,
Leaving the Cave, walks musing, and revolves
Within his secret Mind the dark Events.
Achates, faithful Partner, by his Side
With equal Cares accompanies his Steps.
Much by themselves, and variously they talk,
What lifeless Friend the Priestess should design,
What Corps to be interr'd: And as they came,
They saw Misenus on the naked Shore,
By a disastrous Death untimely slain.
Misenus, Son of Æolus, than whom
None more expert with sounding Brass to rouse
The Troops, and fire the Battle with Alarms.
He first great Hector follow'd; fam'd in Fight,
Near Hector's Person, for his Fife, and Spear.

354

Him when Achilles Conqu'rour robb'd of Life;
The valiant Hero to Æneas' Train
Added Himself; nor then obey'd a Lord
Inferiour. But when o'er the Sea he blew
His sounding Conch, and madly dar'd the Gods
To Emulation; Him (if such a Fame
Be credible) his Rival Triton plung'd
Among the Rocks into the foaming Deep.

Therefore with loud Laments all round him mourn,
Chiefly the pious Prince: Without Delay
Weeping they execute the Sibyl's Charge;
Industrious to erect with Trees, and build
To Heav'n the Altar of his Fun'ral Pile,
Into an ancient Wood, the deep Recess
Of Beasts they go: Down fall the pitchy Pines;
With Blows of Axes Oaks, and Ashen Trunks,
And splitting Timber, cleft with Wedges, sound;
And from the Hills the lofty Beeches roll.
Æneas foremost, with like Weapons arm'd,
Encourages his Friends, and aids their Toil:
These Thoughts revolves within his anxious Breast;
And, looking round the Wood's immense Extent,
Thus prays. May now to us That golden Branch
It self discover in so vast a Grove;
Since all things true, alas! too true of Thee,
Misenus, the Prophetick Virgin told.

355

He scarce had spoke; When full before his Eyes
Two Doves by chance came flying thro' the Sky,
And pitch'd upon the verdant Ground: The Chief
Soon knows his Mother's Birds, and joyful prays.
Be You my Guides, if any Way there lie,
And to That Wood direct my Course thro' Air,
Where the rich Bough o'ershades the fertil Ground:
And Thou, O heav'nly Parent, in These Doubts
Desert me not. He said; and fix'd his Steps,
Observing close what Signal they would give,
And whither tend. With interrupted Flight
They feeding move before him, just as far
As Those behind could keep them still in view:
When to Avernus' stenchy Jaws they came;
Swiftly they mount, and thro' the liquid Air

356

Both gliding at the wish'd-for Place alight,
Upon That Tree, from whence, among the Boughs,
Discolour'd shone the gleamy Air of Gold.
As Misletoe in Woods, in Winter's Frost,
Not by its own congenial Plant produc'd,
Is wont to spring with recent Leaves, and round
The Trunks in Ringlets twines its yellow Shoots:
Such was the Figure of the blooming Gold,
Within the Oak o'ershading; So the Bark
Metallick tinkled with the gentle Wind.
Æneas eager crops the lingring Branch
With Haste, and bears it to the Sibyl's Cave.

357

Nor less, mean-while, the Trojans on the Shore
Weep o'er Misenus; and the last sad Rites
Pay to his senseless Ashes: First a Pile
With Timber cleft, and unctuous Pitch-Trees high
They build; with gloomy Boughs entwine it's Sides,
Before it fun'ral Cypresses erect,
And grace it all above with shining Arms.
Warm Liquors, Some, and Cauldrons from the Fire
Boiling, dispatch; first wash, and then anoint
His cold, stiff Limbs: A gen'ral Groan succeeds;
Then, mourning, on the Bed his Corps they lay,
And o'er it throw the purple Robes, the Veil
Accustom'd: Some support the pond'rous Bier,
(Sad Ministry!) and, by the ancient Rite,
With Faces turn'd away, beneath the Pyre
Hold flaming Brands: Together blended burn
Off'rings of Incense, Flesh, and Jars of Oil.

358

Soon as the Ashes fell, and Flames expir'd;
Th'imbibing Cinders, and the last Remains
They drench with Wine; and in a brazen Urn
The Bones collected Chorinæus hides:
Then thrice with limpid Water sprinkles round
Th'Assembly, from the fertil Olive-Bough;
With dewy Moisture purifies his Friends,
Concludes the Rites, and speaks the last Farewel.
But good Æneas rear'd a stately Tomb,
The Hero's Arms, his Oar, and Trumpet fix'd,
Beneath a lofty Mountain; which from Him
Is now Misenus call'd, and keeps it's Name
To everlasting Ages. This perform'd,
He executes with speed the Sibyl's Charge.

A Cave profound there was, with yawning Mouth

359

Capacious, stony, with a darksom Lake,
And gloomy Grove defended; o'er whose Gulph
None of the Feather'd Kind might wing their way
With safety; such a Vapour thick exhal'd
From it's black Jaws ascended to the Sky!
From whence the Greeks the Place Avernus nam'd.
Four Bullocks first, with Hides of sable Hue,
The Priestess here before the Altars plac'd;
And full upon their Foreheads downwards pour'd
The Wine: Then plucking from between their Horns
Their foremost Hairs, into the holy Fire
The first Oblation flings; invoking loud
Great Hecate, potent in Hell, and Heav'n.
Some, sticking Knives beneath, in Bowls receive
The tepid Blood: Æneas with his Sword
Himself dispatches to th'Infernal Pow'rs,
The Mother of the Furies, and to Earth

360

Her Sister-Deity, a black Ewe-Lamb,
And, Proserpine, a barren Cow to Thee.
Then to the Stygian Monarch he begins
The nightly Sacrifice; the solid Flesh
Of Bulls upon the flaming Altar lays,
And o'er their burning Entrails pours the Oil.
Lo! at the Sun's first Light, and dawning Day,
The Ground began to groan beneath their Feet;
The Woods, upon the Mountains, nodding shook;
And thro' the Shade the howling Dogs foretold
The coming Goddess: Hence, the Priestess cry'd,
Hence, Ye Profane; from all the Grove retire:
And Thou invade the Passage, with thy Steel
Unsheath'd; Now, now, Æneas, is the time
For Courage, and a stedfast Mind. This said,

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Furious she plung'd into the open Cave:
He equals with intrepid Steps his Guide.

Ye Gods, who rule o'er Ghosts, and silent Shades,
Chaos, and Phlegethon; Ye spacious Fields
Of silent Night: Let me permitted speak
What I have heard, and Authoriz'd by You
Disclose Things hid in Darkness, and deep Earth.
Lonely They went, in Night obscure, thro' Shades,
Thro' Pluto's empty Courts, and airy Realms.
Such is the solitary Walk in Woods,
By the uncertain Moon's malignant Gleam;
When Jove in Darkness has involv'd the Sky,
And Objects lose their Colour by the Night.

Just in the Entrance, and first Jaws of Hell,
Grief, and revengeful Cares their Couches plac'd;

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And pale Diseases, querulous Old Age,
Fear, ill-persuading Hunger, and foul Want;
(Forms dreadful to behold!) and Death, and Pain;
And Sleep a-kin to Death; the Mind's false Joys;
And, in the adverse Portal, deadly War.
The Furies' iron Beds; and Discord wild,
Her vip'rous Locks with bloody Fillets bound.
Full in the Midst a tall and dusky Elm
Displays it's Boughs, and aged Limbs: This Seat
(Such is the Fame) fantastic Dreams possess,
And stick beneath the Leaves. Then monstrous Beasts,
Of various Figure: Centaurs, in the Doors,
And two-shap'd Scylla's stable; Briareus
Hundred-fold Giant; Lerna's Snake with Hiss
Terrific, and Chimæra arm'd with Flames;
Gorgons, and Harpys, and the hideous Form
Of the three-body'd Fantom. Here, surpriz'd
With sudden Fear, Æneas grasps his Sword,
And obvious, as they come, the Blade unsheath'd
Presents: And had not his experienc'd Guide
Advis'd him, that Those unimbody'd Shades

363

Fly fleeting, and impassive; He had rush'd,
Beating thin Air, and stabbing Ghosts in vain.

Hence to Tartarean Acheron's fierce Waves
The Way directs; Here turbid, thick with Mud
Voraginous, boils a vast whirling Gulph,
And to Cocytus disembogues the Sand.
Charon, the griesly Ferryman of Hell,
This River keeps, and on These Surges waits;
Horrid with dreadful Filth. Much hoary Beard
Lies on his Chin uncultivate; His Eyes
Stand fix'd in Flame; Down from his Shoulder hangs

364

In Knot his foul Attire: The God himself
Shoves with a Pole his Boat, and spreads his Sails,
And in his sable Skiff transports the Ghosts,
Now Senior, but in fresh and green Old Age.
Hither in Throngs they crouded to the Bank;
Matrons, and Men, Souls of brave Heroes dead,
Boys, and unmarry'd Girls, and Youths consum'd
On Fun'ral-piles before their Parents' Eyes.
Unnumber'd, as the Leaves, which fall in Woods,
By Autumn's first sharp Blasts: Or as the Birds
Which flock from Sea to Land; when the cold Year
Drives them beyond Sea, seeking warmer Climes.
Praying they stood, first to be wafted o'er;
And, longing for the farther Bank, their Hands

365

Extended: But the surly Boatman, deaf
To all their Cries, now These, now Those receives;
But drives the rest at distance from the Beach.

Æneas (for That Tumult much surpriz'd,
And struck his Soul) Thus speaks: O sacred Maid,
Tell me, what means This Concourse to the Lake?
What do the Ghosts desire? And why distinct
Leave These the Banks, while Others sweep with Oars
The livid Ford? To Him in brief replies
The aged Priestess. Great Anchises' Son,
Undoubted Offspring of the Gods; You see
Profound Cocytus, and the Stygian Pool;
Whose Deity the Gods by Oaths revere,
And dread to violate. This Croud is All
Distress'd, and unintomb'd: That Ferryman
Is Charon; Those who sail the Lake, interr'd.
But 'tis not giv'n to pass the horrid Banks,
And hoarse-resounding Fluent; 'till in Graves
Their Bones are laid: An hundred Years they rove,
And flutter round These Shores; and then at length
Admitted, to the wish'd-for Stream return.

Fix'd stood Anchises' Son, repress'd his Steps,
Much musing; and the hard, unequal Fate
Commiserates: Leucaspis here he sees,
And the Commander of the Lycian Fleet
Orontes, mourning, and deny'd the Rites

366

Of Honours due to Death; whom, toss'd from Troy
O'er stormy Billows, Auster overwhelm'd,
Involving in the Waves the Ship, and Men.
Lo! Palinure with wand'ring Steps mov'd slow,
The Pilot, who, as he observ'd the Stars
Late, in the Libyan Voyage, from the Stern
Fell plung'd into the Middle of the Deep.
When scarce He knew him pensive, thro' the Shades,
Thus first: Who, Palinure, of all the Gods
Snatch'd thee from Us, and drown'd thee in the Sea?
O speak; For never faithless found 'till Now
Apollo by This Oracle alone
Deluded me; Pronouncing from his Shrine
That Thou shouldst pass the Ocean safe, and reach
Ausonia's Coasts. Is This the promis'd Faith?

Then He; Nor you has Phœbus' Shrine deceiv'd,
Brave Prince, Anchises' Son; Nor did the God

367

Plunge me into the Sea. For as I held
The Rudder, sticking fast, and steer'd our Course;
Falling, I drew it, with me, torn by chance
With mighty Violence. By the stormy Seas
I swear, I never for my self conceiv'd
So great a Fear, as lest your Ship should fail,
Robb'd of her Rudder, and her Pilot lost,
Amidst the Tossing of such boist'rous Waves.
Three Nights tempestuous o'er the boundless Deep
Rough Notus bore me; Scarce upon the fourth
Appearing Dawn, I saw th'Italian Coast,
High from the topmost Billow. By degrees
I swam to Land: and now had safe arriv'd;
Had not the cruel Nation, as I catch'd
With grasping Hands the Mountain's rugged Sides,
Clogg'd in my brine-drench'd Garments, with the Sword
Invaded me, and ignorant suppos'd
They gain'd a Prize. My Body now is wrapp'd
In Waves, and roll'd by Winds along the Shore.
Wherefore, by Heav'n's refreshing Light and Air,
By your lov'd Father, by the rising Hope
Of young Iülus, free me from These Woes,
Unconquerable Chief. Or You, your self,
Cast Earth upon me, (for You can,) and seek
The Velin Port: Or if a Way there be,
If any Way your Goddess Mother shew;

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(For sure without the Favour of the Gods
You never would, I think, attempt to pass
Such mighty Rivers, and the Stygian Lake)
Give wretched Me your Hand, and o'er the Waves
Transport me with Your self; that I may find
A Mansion of Repose, at least in Death.

He said; and Thus the Prophetess reply'd.
Whence, Palinure, in thee does This Desire
So impious rise? Shalt Thou unbury'd see
That River, and the Furies' dreary Stream,
Or unpermitted pass the Stygian Bank?
Forbear to hope the Destinies Divine
Can ever with Intreaties be subdu'd.
Yet mindful take This Solace of thy Woe;
For far and wide th'adjoining Cities, urg'd
By Prodigies Celestial, shall attone
Thy Ashes, build a Tomb, and solemn Rites
Perform: And to eternal Ages fam'd
The Place shall Palinurus' Name retain.

These Words relieve his Cares, and for a-while
Ease his sad Soul; With pleasure he reflects
Upon the Land distinguish'd by his Name.
They now pursue their Way, and near the Stream
Arrive: Them soon as from the Stygian Sound
The Steersman saw, thro' the brown silent Grove,
Approaching to the Bank; He first with Speech
Accosts them, challenging. Whoe'er Thou art
Who arm'd art making to our River; speak

369

The Causes of thy Coming, and presume
No farther to advance: This Place to Ghosts
Is all assign'd, to Sleep, and drowsy Night;
'Tis not permitted in the Stygian Boat
The Bodies of the Living to convey.
Nor was it Joy to me, that I receiv'd
Alcides in his Passage o'er my Lake,
Nor Theseus, nor Perithöus; tho' born
Of heav'nly Race, and Matchless in their Might.
The First in Chains th'infernal Mastiff seiz'd,
And drag'd him trembling from our Monarch's Throne:
The Rest attempted from his Bed to force
Great Pluto's Queen. To Him in brief replies
Th'Amphrysian Prophetess: No Plots like These
(Dismiss thy Apprehensions) here are meant;
Nor do These Weapons threaten hostile Wrongs:
Still may the monstrous Porter in his Den
Eternal, barking fright the bloodless Shades;
And still may chaste Proserpina remain

370

Within her Uncle's Court. Æneas sprung
From Troy, renown'd in Piety, and Arms,
Descends, to see his Father, to the Waves
Of Erebus profound. If by the Image
Of so much Piety thou art not mov'd;
This Bough at least acknowledge: With those Words.
She shew'd the Bough, which lay beneath her Robe
Conceal'd. His swelling Choler strait subsides;
Nor more: He wond'ring at the fatal Branch,
That venerable Passport long unseen;
Turns his cerulean Skiff, and to the Bank
Approaches: Other Ghosts, which sate in Rows
Along the Deck, he then removes; and clears
His Hatches; and at once receives on Board
The great Æneas; Lab'ring with his Weight
The Leathern Sculler groans, and leaky sucks
The rushing Waves: At length beyond the Stream

371

The Hero and the Priestess safe he lands,
On the grey Sedges, and unsightly Mud.

The Monster Cerberus with three-mouth'd Bark
Howls thro' These Realms; within his Den adverse
Outstretch'd enormous. When the Priestess saw
The Snakes with horrour swelling round his Neck;
She flings a Cake of medicated Meal,
And soporific Honey: He, with Rage
Of Hunger op'ning wide his triple Throat,
Snatches the Morsel; and, his spacious Chine
Relaxing, lies extended on the Ground,
And with his Vastness covers all the Cave.
The Watch thus laid asleep; Æneas swift
Seizes the Passage, and behind him leaves
The Border of th'irremeable Lake.

First shrill Laments, and slender Cries are heard,

372

The Ghosts of Infants weeping in the Door:
Whom, of sweet Life abridg'd, and from the Breast

373

Untimely snatch'd, the fatal Day cut off,
And in a Fun'ral immature involv'd.

374

Next Those who by an Accusation false
Were doom'd to Death. Nor are Those Seats assign'd
Unjudg'd, or lotless: Minos shakes the Urn,
Inquisitor; He calls the silent Shades
To Council; and their Lives, and Crimes explores.

The next allotted Mansions Those possess,
Wailing, who innocent procur'd their Death
By their own Hands; and, sick of Living, flung
Their Souls away: How gladly would they Now
The Pain of Toils and Poverty endure
In upper Light! The Destinies forbid;

375

Them Styx, unlovely Lake, with dreary Waves
Hems in, and nine times interfus'd, confines.

Not far from hence extended wide are shewn
The Mourning Fields; To them That Name is giv'n.
Here Those, whom unrelenting Love consum'd
With cruel pining Sickness, secret Walks
O'ershadow, and a Myrtle Grove around
Conceals: Their Cares in Death it self survive.
Phædra, and Procris, in These Fields he sees;
And weeping Eryphile, shewing here
The Wounds she from her cruel Son receiv'd;
Evadne, and Pasiphäe; with Them
Laodamia walks; and Cæneus once
A Man, a Woman first, and by the Turn
Of Fate, into her former Sex revolv'd.

Among the rest, fresh reeking from her Wound,
In the vast Grove Phœnician Dido roams:
Soon as the Trojan Hero near her stood,
And knew her thro' the dusky Shade, as when

376

At the first Op'ning of the Month one sees,
Or thinks one sees, thro' Clouds the rising Moon;
Tears he lets fall, and Thus with fondness speaks.
Was it then true, Unhappy Dido? True
The Tidings I receiv'd, that by the Sword
Dying you had pursu'd the last Extremes?
Your Death, alas! I caus'd: But by the Stars,
And by the Gods I swear, by all the Faith
Beneath the Earth, if any such there be;
Unwillingly, O Queen, I left your Coasts.
But the Celestial Pow'rs, who force me now
To travel thro' These Shades, These squalid Realms,
And Night profound, urg'd me by Their Commands;
Nor could I think that such excessive Grief
To You by my Departure would be caus'd:
Whom fly you? Stay; nor from my Sight withdraw;
'Tis the last Interview our Fate allows.

Thus Her with Indignation frowning, stern,

377

With Tears, and Blandishments Æneas sooth'd:
She bends her Eyes averse upon the Ground;
And by his Speech begun is mov'd no more,
Than a hard Flint, or fix'd Marpesian Rock.
At length she flits away, and from his Sight
Detested whirls into the shady Grove;
Where her Sichæus, her first plighted Lord,
Answers her Cares, and equals all her Love.

Nor less Æneas her hard Fate bewails,
And far with Tears pursues her, as she flies.
Then speeds his destin'd Way; and now they reach
The last allotted Fields, possess'd by Chiefs
In War illustrious. Tydeus meets him here,
And brave Parthenopæus, fam'd in Arms,
And pale Adrastus' Ghost: Here Leaders sprung
From Troy, who fell in Battle, much deplor'd
In upper Life; whom he beholding, groan'd,
As there in long extended Ranks they stood:
Glaucus, and Medon, and Thersilochus,
Antenor's three Sons, Polybætes, Priest
Of Ceres, and Idæus, ev'n in Death
Retaining still his Chariot, and his Arms.

378

On either side the thronging Ghosts stand round;
Nor them suffices to have seen him Once:
Delighted, they detain him long, and walk
Familiar, and confer, and ask the Cause
Of his Arrival. But the Grecian Lords,
And Agamemnon's Squadrons, when they saw
The Hero shining thro' the Shades in Arms,
Tremble with sudden Fear: Some turn their Backs
In Flight, as to their Ships they once retir'd:
Some raise a slender Cry; Th'abortive Scream
Dies in their Throats, and stifles half the Sound.

Here Priam's Son Deïphobus he sees,
Butcher'd thro' all his Body; with his Face
Inhumanly disfigur'd o'er; his Face,
And both his Hands, his Temples hack'd, his Ears
Hewn off, and with an indecorous Wound

379

His Nostrils mangled. Him when scarce he knew
Trembling with Shame, and striving to conceal
His dire Indignities; with well-known Voice
He first begins. Deïphobus, renown'd
In Arms, deriv'd from Teucer's Royal Blood;
Who had the Will, or Pow'r on Thee t'inflict
Such cruel, barb'rous Treatment? Fame to Me
Reported, that in Troy's last Night you fell,
Fatigu'd with mighty Slaughter of the Greeks,
Upon their Heaps confus'd. An empty Tomb
Strait on the Rhætian Shore I rear'd, and thrice
Aloud invok'd thy Manes: Still the Place
Retains thy Name, and Arms. Thy self, my Friend,
I could not find; nor, from our Native Soil
Departing, in a Grave thy Corps compose.

To whom Priamides: By You, my Friend,
Nothing has been omitted; All the Rites
To dead Deïphobus you have perform'd.
But me my Fate, and Helen's murd'rous Fraud
Plung'd in These Woes; These Monuments she left.
For how we wasted in delusive Mirth
That last of Nights to Troy, too well you know;
Nor can the sad Remembrance be effac'd.
When o'er high Pergamus the fatal Steed
Ascended huge, and pregnant from his Womb
Disclos'd an Army: She, a festal Dance
Pretending, round the Orgies led in pomp
The Bacchanalian Dames of Troy; Herself
Holds a vast flaming Taper in the Midst,
And from the Cittadel invites the Greeks.
Then I, o'erwhelm'd with Cares, and plung'd in Sleep,

380

Lay on my fatal Bed, dissolv'd in Rest
Sweet, and profound, and like a pleasing Death.
Mean-while my precious Consort from my House
Removes all Arms, and from my Pillow steals
My faithful Sword; wide open flings the Gates,
And to my Palace Menelaüs calls:
Hoping, belike, by That to reconcile
Her injur'd Lord, and for her former Crimes
By That important Service to attone.
Short let me be; They burst into my Room:
With them That Traitor of th'Æolian Race,
Encourager of Villany, is join'd.
Ye Gods, repay such Treatment to the Greeks,
If 'tis with pious Pray'r I beg Revenge.

381

But by what Fortune, tell me in your Turn,
Living arrive You here? By Stress of Sea
Wand'ring, and toss'd? Or warn'd by Pow'rs Divine?
Or what Fate urges you to visit Realms
Joyless, and unillumin'd by the Sun,
These turbid Regions? Thus while mutual Speech

882

They chang'd alternate; in her rosy Car
Aurora now had finish'd half her Course
Ethereal: And perhaps in Talk like This
Their whole allotted Time they would have spent;
But Thus in brief the Sibyl Guide advis'd.

The Night rolls on, Æneas; We by Tears
Protract the Time: Here lies a Way, which parts
In Two; The Right to awful Pluto's Court,
And to Elysium leads Us; but the Left
To the Tartarean Gloom, and tortur'd Damn'd.

To Her Deïphobus: Be not displeas'd,

383

Great Priestess; Chide me not: I will retire,
My Number fill, and render back my self
To Darkness: Go, Our Glory; Go, and prove
A better Fate. He said; and at the Word
Turn'd, and withdrew. Æneas looks behind
Sudden, and sees, beneath the left-hand Rock,

384

An ample City, with a triple Wall
Begirt; which, rolling on it's rapid Tide,
Tartarean Phlegethon with torrent Flames
Incloses round, and whirls the rattling Stones.
A spacious Gate adverse, and Pillars hewn
From solid Adamant; which human Force
None can subdue, nor ev'n the Gods with Steel
Can cut: An iron Tow'r stands high in Air;
And pale Tisiphone, clad in a Gown
Deep dy'd in Blood, before the Portal sits,

385

And sleepless, day and night, the Entrance guards.
Hence Groans are heard, and lashing Whips, the Din
Of Iron, and the Clank of dragging Chains.
Startled with Fear, and listning to the Noise,
Æneas stood: O tell me, sacred Maid,
What Scene of Crimes is This? What Pains? And what
Such loud Laments, ascending to the Sky?

To whom the Sibyl Priestess Thus reply'd.
None that is pure, Illustrious Trojan Chief,
May enter There, or tread th'unhallow'd Ground:
But Hecate, when o'er th'Avernian Groves

386

She gave me Charge, led me thro' all, and told
The Vengeance of the Gods. These ruthless Realms
By Cretian Rhadamanthus are possess'd:
He punishes, and hears their secret Guilt;
Compels them to confess their hidden Crimes,
Which, with the vain Dissimulation pleas'd,
Each had protracted, in the upper World,
To his late Hour of Death. The vengeful Pest
Tisiphone then frights the guilty Ghosts,
Arm'd with her Whip, insulting; threat'ning, waves
With her Left hand her griesly Snakes, and calls
The grim Assembly of her Sister-Fiends.

387

Then with a dismal Jarring, on their Hinge,
Grating harsh Noise, the execrable Gates
At length are open'd: What a Sentry sits,
You see; and what a Figure guards the Door.
More dire the monstrous Hydra, lodg'd within,
Opens with pitchy Yawn her fifty Throats:
Then Tartarus it self sinks twice as low,
Beneath the Shades descending, wide, and deep,
As tends the upper Prospect to the Sky.
Here the old Earth-born Offspring, Titan's Sons,

388

Roll, struck with Lightning, in the vast Abyss.
The two Alöides I here beheld
Of mighty Stature; who with impious Hands
Assail'd the Sky, and from his Seat supreme
Attempted to dethrone the King of Heav'n.
Salmoneus' penal Torments too I saw,
Who mimick'd Thunder, and the Flames of Jove.
He by four Horses drawn, along the Streets
Of Elis' City, and the Grecian Towns,
And brandishing a Torch, Triumphant rode,
And to himself celestial Honours claim'd:
Infatuate, with a brazen Bridge, and Hoofs
Of noisy trampling Steeds, to counterfeit
Th'inimitable Lightning, and the Storms.

389

But the Almighty Father lanc'd a Bolt
Thro' the thick Clouds (a Bolt He lanc'd, not Brands,
And smoking Tow) and drove him headlong hurl'd
With the vast Swing, and Whirlwind of his Arm.
There Tityus, Son of the all-bearing Earth,
One might behold: Whose Body's monstrous Bulk
Lies stretch'd o'er nine whole Acres; and a huge
Portentous Vultur, with her hooky Beak
Pouncing his everlasting Liver, thrives
Upon his Entrails fruitful of their Pains;
Rummages for her Meals, inhabits deep
Beneath his Breast; nor do the Fibres find
The least Relief from Torment, still renew'd.

Why should I name the Lapithæan Race?
Ixion? and Perithöus? O'er whom
Hangs a black Flint, just tumbling now, just falling
Down in Appearance. Lofty genial Beds

390

On golden Pillars shine; And Feasts prepar'd
With Royal Luxury, before their Eyes:
Near them the Eldest of the Furies sits,
Prohibits them from touching with their Hands
The Dishes; rises, tossing in the Air
Her flaming Torch, and thunders with her Voice.

Here Those, who, while their Term of Life endur'd,
Hated their Brethren, or against their Fathers
Lifted their Hands; Those who with Fraud betray'd
Their Client's Cause; and Those who brooded o'er
Their Wealth acquir'd alone, nor to their Friends
Assign'd a Portion; (These the greatest Croud:)
They too who for Adultery were slain;
And They who in illegal Wars engag'd,
Nor trembled to deceive their Masters' Faith,
Imprison'd wait their Doom. Seek not to know
What Doom, what fatal Sentence, or what Form
Of Punishment: Some roll a pond'rous Rock,
And on the Spokes of Wheels distended hang:

391

There sits, and to Eternity will sit
Unhappy Theseus: And, advising all,
The wretched Phlegyas with his Voice aloud
There Testifies, and Preaches thro' the Shades;
“Be warn'd, learn Justice, nor contemn the Gods.

One sold his Country, and a Tyrant's Rule
Impos'd; for Bribes made Laws, and Laws repeal'd.
Another by forbidden Nuptials seiz'd
His Daughter's Bed: All most flagitious Crimes
Daring, and executing what they dar'd.
Had I an hundred Tongues, an hundred Mouths,
An iron Voice; I could not comprehend
The various Villanies with all their Names,
The various Forms, and Punishments of Vice.

When Phœbus' aged Priestess Thus had spoke;
But haste, she said, pursue your Way, complete
The Off'ring you design'd: I see the Walls
Wrought in the Cyclops' Forges, and the Gates
With Arch adverse; where we our Gift prescrib'd
Must by Command deposite. Thus she spoke;
And Both together, thro' the gloomy Walks,
O'ershoot the middle Space, and to the Doors
Approach: Æneas to the Entrance hastes,

392

His Body with fresh Water sprinkles o'er,
And in the fronting Portal sticks the Bough.

The Rites thus finish'd, and the Off'ring due
Paid to the Goddess; to the Realms of Joy
At length they come, and to the blissful Greens,
Fortunate Groves, and Mansions of the Bless'd.
An Ether more enlarg'd here cloaths the Fields
With purple Light: and their own proper Sun,
And proper Stars they know. On grassy Meads

393

Some wrestling exercise their Limbs, contend
In Sport, and struggle on the yellow Sand.
Others in Dances artful Measures beat,
And Verse recite: With These the Thracian Priest,
In his long Garment, sev'n Divisions sings
In tuneful Numbers; on the same by turns
His Fingers, and his Iv'ry Quill employs.
Here, Teucer's ancient Race, th'illustrious Line,
Heroes renown'd, in happier Ages born;
Ilus, Assaracus, and Dardanus
Founder of Troy. With Wonder they behold
Their Arms, and empty Chariots on the Plain
At distance rang'd: Their Spears stand fix'd in Earth;
And loose o'er all the Fields their Horses feed:
The same Delight in Chariots, and in Arms,

394

And shining Steeds, which living they conceiv'd,
Pursues them still beneath the Earth repos'd.
Others on either hand he sees reclin'd
In Feasts along the Grass, and Pæans sweet
Singing in Chorus, in the fragrant Grove
Of Laurel: whence, descending thro' the Wood,
Eridanus abundant rolls his Waves.
Here, Those who for their Country Wounds endur'd
In War; And holy Priests, while Life remain'd;
And pious Poets, who recited Things
Worthy of Phœbus; Those who polish'd Life
With Arts invented; Or consign'd their Names
To Memory by well-deserving Deeds.
Their Heads are all with snow-white Fillets wreath'd:
Whom gather'd round the Sibyl thus bespeaks;

395

Chiefly Musæus: For th'inclosing Croud
Of Ghosts look up to Him, above the rest
Standing superiour with his Shoulders tall.

Tell us, Ye happy Spirits, and Thou best
Of Poets; say, what Place, what Region holds
Anchises? For his sake we hither came,
And the wide Streams of Erebus o'erpass'd.
To whom the Hero Thus in brief reply'd.

None have fix'd Seats; We live in shady Groves,
And Beds of Banks, and Meadows fresh with Rills
Inhabit. But if such be your Desire,
Ascend This Hill; and to an easy Path
I will conduct your Steps. This said, he leads;
And shews them from above the shining Fields:
They thence descend, and leave the Mountain's height.

But old Anchises in a verdant Vale
By chance review'd the separated Ghosts,
Destin'd to upper Light; recounted All
With studious Recollection; and survey'd
The Number of his darling Race, their Fates,
Their Fortunes, Manners, and Heroic Deeds.
He, when Æneas thro' the Meads adverse

396

He saw advancing forward, both his Hands
With Joy extended; Tears ran trickling down
His Cheeks; And from his Mouth these Accents fell.

Are you then come at last? And has at last
Your filial Piety, by me so long
Experienc'd, conquer'd such a Journey's Toil?
Is it then giv'n me to behold your Face,
My Son? and well-known Accents hear, and speak?
So I indeed was casting in my Mind,
And calculating Times: Nor did my Care
Delude me: Thro' what Lands, what Oceans toss'd,
What Perils, You, my Son, do I receive?
How did I fear from Libya's Realms for You!

Then He: Your Ghost, my Father, your sad Ghost
Oft urg'd my Journey to This Clime. Our Ships
Ride in the Tyrrhene Sea. Give, Father, give
Your Hand to join with mine; nor from my Sight
Your self withdraw. So saying, he bedew'd
His Face with flowing Tears: And thrice assay'd
About his Neck to throw his folding Arms;
Thrice, vainly grasp'd at, from their Circle flew
Th'unbody'd Fantom; light as fleeting Winds,
And like a slipp'ry Dream. Meanwhile He sees
A Grove secluded in a secret Vale,
Shrubs rattling in the Woods, and Lethe's Stream,
Which near the peaceful Mansions glides along;
Round which unnumber'd Crouds, and Nations flew.

397

As when the Bees in Meads, while Summer shines,
On various Flowers alight, and hover o'er
The snow-white Lilies: All the Field resounds
With humming Noise. Struck at the sudden Sight,
Surpriz'd, and ignorant, Æneas asks
The Cause; Enquires, what River That? and Who
The thronging Ghosts that crouded to the Shore?

Anchises then: Those Souls, to whom by Fate
New Bodies are decreed, at Lethe's Stream
Drink long Oblivion from the drowsy Waves.
All These indeed, my Son, I have desir'd
To shew thee, and recount my future Race;
That with the more Delight thou may'st enjoy
Thy Kingdom fix'd at length on Latium's Coasts.

O Father, Is it then to be conceiv'd
That any of These Spirits so sublime
Would go to upper Light, and re-assume
Their sluggish Bodies? Whence such fond Desire,
Such miserable Love of wretched Life?

Yes; All, my Son, to thee I will explain,

398

Nor hold thee longer in suspense; replies
Anchises, and in order all unfolds.

First, Heav'n, and Earth, and Ocean's liquid Plains,

402

The Moon's bright Globe, the Sun, and shining Stars,
A Soul within enlivens; and a Mind,
Diffus'd thro' all its parts, the gen'ral Mass
Invigorates, and mingles with the Whole.
Hence Men, and Beasts, and all the Feather'd Kind
Proceed, and Monsters of the boundless Deep:

403

A fiery Force, and Origin Divine
These Seeds inspires; so far as not controul'd
By their terrestrial Bodies, clog'd and damp'd
By their dull Flesh, and cumbrous mortal Frame.
Hence they Desire, and Fear, Rejoice, and Grieve;
Nor see the Light, in Prison dark confin'd.
Nor, ev'n when Life is fled, do all their Ills,
And all their Pests corporeal wear away;
But many Stains, in such a Length of Time
Contracted, marvellously must inhere.
Therefore with Punishment they are explor'd,
And pay due Penance for their former Crimes.
Some hang expanded to the empty Winds;
The Guilt ingrain'd of Others in th'Abyss
Of Seas is wash'd; or burnt away with Fire.
Each of us from our sev'ral Manes bear
Purgation; To Elysium then we go,
And here We few enjoy These blissful Fields:

404

When Tract of Time (it's fatal Round at length
Revolv'd) has quite work'd off the blended Stain;
Leaving defecated th'ethereal Ray,
And simple Energy of heav'nly Fire.

407

All These (the Circle of a thousand Years
Complete) the God to Lethe's River calls
Assembled; that forgetful of the past
They may return to Life, and reascend
Contended to their first imbody'd State.

Thus having spoke, Anchises leads his Son,
With his Prophetic Guide, into the Midst

408

Of the thick Concourse, and the sounding Croud;
Then takes a Hill, from whence they might discern
Their Looks, in long Procession as they came
Advancing opposite. Now mark, my Son,
The Glory which attends the Dardan Race,

409

What Heroes from th'Italian Stem shall spring,
Illustrious future Partners of our Fame,
I will explain; and teach thee all thy Fate.

410

Him seest thou leaning on his pointless Spear?
That Youth is destin'd next to upper Life;
He mingled with Italian Blood shall rise
First to ethereal Light; an Alban Name,
Sylvius, thy Son by posthumous Descent:

411

Whom late to Thee advanc'd among the Gods
Thy Wife Lavinia in the Woods shall bear,
Himself a King, and Ancestor of Kings:
From whom our Race shall o'er long Alba reign.
The next, the Glory of the Trojan Line,
Is Procas; Capys; Numitor; and He
Who in his own shall represent Thy Name,
Sylvius Æneas, equally renown'd
In Piety, and Arms; if e'er he come

412

To govern Alba with imperial Sway.
See what brave Youths! What manly Force they shew!
But They, whose Heads with Civic Oak are wreath'd,
Nomentum, Gabii, and Fidena's Walls
Shall build on Mountains, and Collatia's Tow'rs,
Pometia, and the Fort of Inuus,
Bola, and Cora: Those shall be their Names
In after Ages; Now no Names they bear.
Next, to assert his Grandsire's Right, shall come
Mavortian Romulus, to be disclos'd
By Ilia, from Assaracus deriv'd:
Seest thou upon his Helm the double Crest
Stand high? and how the Father of the Gods
Ev'n now encircles him with Rays Divine?
By his auspicious Conduct, see, my Son,
Immortal Rome shall equal to the Earth
Her Sov'reign Rule, her Courage to the Sky;
And single with her Walls sev'n Hills inclose:
With a long Progeny of Heroes bless'd.
As Berencynthia in her Chariot rides
Aloft, thro' Phrygian Cities, crown'd with Towers;
Mother of Gods; proud of her hundred Sons,
All Pow'rs Divine, all high enthron'd in Heav'n.
Hither, bend hither both thy Eyes; Behold
This Lineage, and Thy Romans: Cæsar hence,
And all Iülus' Progeny shall come
Beneath the spacious Axis of the Sky.
This, This is He; the Man whom thou hast heard
So often promis'd; Offspring of the Gods,
Augustus Cæsar: Destin'd to restore
The Golden Age in Latium, govern'd once

413

By Saturn: He his Empire shall extend
Beyond the Garamantes, and the Tract
Of Indian Regions, Realms beyond the Stars,
Beyond the Circuit of the Year, and Sun;
Where mighty Atlas on his Shoulders turns
The rolling Axis, studded o'er with Stars.
On his Approach, ev'n Now the Caspian Realms
With Horrour hear the Answers of the Gods;
And all the Country of Mœtis' Lake,
And Nilus trembles thro' his sev'nfold Stream.
Nor did Alcides' self so far advance;
Tho' he transfix'd the brazen-footed Deer,
Quell'd Erymanthus' Woods, and with his Bow
Made Lerna tremble: Nor the Victor God
Liber, who guides his Car with viny Reins,
And drives his Tygers from high Nisa's Top.
And doubt we still our Glory to extend

414

By Actions? Or does Fear forbid us still
To fix our Colony on Latium's Coast?

But Who is He, with Olive-Boughs from far
Conspicuous, and with Incense in his Hands?
I know the Roman King, his silver Beard,
And venerable Hair. He first by Laws
The City shall establish, from the State
Of little Cures, and his poor Domains
Sent to wide Empire. Him shall next succeed
Tullus, who shall dissolve his Country's Peace,
Rousing the restive Soldiery to Arms,
And Troops unus'd to Triumphs. Ancus Then
Shall follow, more magnificently great,
Ev'n now too much delighted with the Breath
Of popular Applauses. Wouldst thou next
Behold the Tarquin Kings? the haughty Soul
Of vengeful Brutus? and the Fasces chang'd?
He first shall exercise the Consul's Pow'r,
And unrelenting Axes; and his Sons
Conspiring in new Wars the Father's self
To Death for glorious Liberty shall call,
Unfortunate: However future Times
That Action may resent; his Country's Love
Shall conquer, and th'immense Desire of Praise.
The Decii at a distance next behold;
The Drusi; and Torquatus with his Axe
Relentless; and Camillus bringing back
The Roman Standard. But Those friendly Souls
Thou seest, who now alike in Armour shine,

415

Here in This nether World: What Wars (alas!)
Whenever They arrive at upper Light,
What Battles, what a Slaughter shall They raise!
From Alpine Ridges, and Monæcus' Mount
The Father comes, descending: From the East
The Son advances opposite in Arms.
Forbear such Wars, my Children, O forbear;
Nor sheath your dreaded Country's conqu'ring Swords
Within your Country's Bowels: And Thou first,
My Son, whose Birth is from the Gods deriv'd,
Throw Thou thy Arms away.
One to the lofty Capitol shall ride
High in his Chariot, with Corinthian Spoils
Proud, and Triumphant o'er the vanquish'd Greeks.
Another, Argos, and Mycenæ fam'd
For Agamemnon's Empire, and the great
Æacides, from brave Achilles sprung,
Shall conquer; to revenge the ancient Kings
Of Troy, and Pallas' violated Fane.
Thee, mighty Cato, and Thee, Cossus, who
Can pass in silence? Who the Gracchian Race?
Or the two Scipio's, Thunderbolts of War,
The Bane of Lybia? Or Fabricius, great
In little Fortune? Or thy Furrows sown,
Serranus? Whither weary am I rapt
By You, ye Fabii? Thou, the Great, art He
Alone, who by Delay retriev'st our State.
Others more soft shall carve the breathing Brass;

416

Nay living Looks, I think, from Marble draw:
Plead Causes better; with a Wand describe
The heav'nly Roads, and trace the rising Stars.
Roman, Remember Thou to rule the World;
(Be These thy Arts!) to fix the Laws of Peace;
To spare the Suppliant, and confound the Proud.

417

So spake Anchises to his wond'ring Guests;
Then Thus proceeds: Behold how rich with Spoils
Marcellus walks Triumphant, and o'erlooks
The Heroes all. He in tumultuous Times,
Warriour, shall fix the Roman State; subdue
The Carthaginians, and the Rebel Gaul;
And the third Trophies to Quirinus bring.
Then here Æneas (for with Him he saw
A Youth of beauteous Form, in shining Arms,
But with o'er-clouded Brow, and down-cast Eyes)
Say, Father, Who is He, with such a Mien
Attending on the Hero, as he walks?
His Son? Or any of th'illustrious Line?
What Noise of his Retinue crouding round!
How great Resemblance in his Face appears!
But gloomy Night with Darkness wraps his Head.

Then Thus Anchises, with o'erflowing Tears:
Forbear the sad Enquiry, O my Son;
Seek not to know th'unutterable Grief
Of thy Descendants. Him the Fates shall shew
To Earth, and only shew him; nor shall There
Permit his longer Stay. Too much, Ye Gods,
The Roman Pow'r would seem to rival Yours;
Should Gifts like these be lasting! What Laments

418

Shall Mars's Field, near the high Walls, repeat!
And what a Fun'ral, Tyber, shalt Thou see,
When by his recent Tomb thy Stream shall glide!
Nor e'er shall any Youth of Trojan Race
Exalt the Latin Fathers in their Hopes
So high; nor ever shall Quirinus' Realm
Glory so much in any of her Sons.
O Piety! O ancient Faith! And Force
Invincible in War! Him none adverse
Would with Impunity have met in Arms;
Whether on foot he had defy'd the Foe,
Or with sharp Rowels goar'd the foaming Steed.
Alas, lamented Youth! If any way
Thou break the Doom of unrelenting Fate;
Marcellus Thou shalt be. Bring Lillies here

419

In copious Handfuls: To my Grandson's Shade
I'll scatter purple Flow'rs; and pay at least
This unavailing Duty. Thus at large,
Thro' all the Region, in th'extended Fields
Of Air, they walk; and ev'ry thing survey.
All which Anchises having shewn his Son,
And fir'd his Breast with Love of future Fame;
The destin'd Wars in which he must engage
He next foretels him; the Laurentian Realms;
And King Latinus' City; and the Means,
To suffer, or escape his ev'ry Toil.

Two Gates of Sleep there are: The one of Horn,
Thro' which with ease the real Fantoms pass;
With polish'd Elephant the other shines,

420

Thro' which the Manes send false Dreams to Light.
Here then the Sire Anchises with his Son,
And his Prophetick Guide, in such Discourse
Confers; and sends them thro' the Iv'ry Gate.
Æneas to his Navy strait pursues
His Way, and speedily rejoins his Friends:
Then to Cajeta's Harbour sails direct,
Coasting along: The Anchors from the Prow
Are cast; The Sterns stand resting on the Shore.

The End of the Second Volume.

VOL. III.

[BOOK the Seventh.]

Thou too, Cajeta; great Æneas' Nurse,
Illustrious Matron, dying on our Coasts,
Did'st give them everlasting Fame: And Now
The Place thy honour'd Memory preserves;
And still thy Name on wide Hesperia's Shores
(If That be any Glory) marks thy Dust.

But good Æneas, having duly paid

The Fun'ral-Rites, and rais'd a Tomb in Air,
Soon as the Deep lay smooth, with Canvas spred
Unmoors, and leaves the Port. A Breeze at Night
Springs fresh; Nor does the silver Moon deny
Her Beams, which tremble on the glim'ring Waves.
Next, cruising, close by Circe's Shores they sail;
Where She, the wealthy Daughter of the Sun,
With ceaseless Singing makes the Groves resound,
Groves inaccessible; and in the Rooms
Of her proud Palace, for nocturnal Light,
Sweet Cedar burns: While thro' the slender Web
Her whistling Shuttle flies along the Loom.

Hence Groans are heard; The Noise of Lions, fierce,
Rebellious to their Chains, and roaring loud
In Dead of Night; The Grunt of bristly Boars;
The Rage of Bears reluctant in their Stalls;
And huge portentous Forms of howling Wolves.
All which, with pow'rful Charms, from human Shapes
The cruel Goddess Circe had transform'd
To savage Beasts. And lest the pious Race
Of Troy should such a monstrous Change endure,
Or wafted touch upon the direful Coast;
Neptune with Winds propitious swell'd their Sails,
And sped them safe beyond the boiling Tides.

And now the Ocean redden'd with the Rays;
And in her rosy Car the blushing Morn
Shone from the Sky: When all at once the Winds
Lay hush'd, and ev'ry Blast; The lab'ring Oars
Cleave the smooth Marble of the yielding Deep.
Then here Æneas from the Ocean spies

A spacious Wood; Thro' which the pleasant Stream
Of gulphy Tyber rolls his yellow Sand,
And disembogues his Waves into the Sea.
Here various Birds, accustom'd to the Banks
And Chanel of the River, all around,
And all above, with sweet melodious Songs
Soften'd the Air, and flutter'd in the Grove.
He gives the Crew Command to make the Shore,
And joyful on the shady River glides.

Now Erato, Celestial Muse, what Kings,

What Juncture of Affairs, and what the State
Of ancient Latium, when the Fleet of Troy,
First touch'd th'Ausonian Coast, I will disclose,
Ev'n from it's first Original revolve,
And open all the War. Thou, Goddess, Thou
Instruct thy Poet: Horrid Wars I sing,
Battles, and Princes bent on mutual Death,
The Tyrrhene Bands, and all Hesperia rous'd
In Arms: A greater Series of Affairs
Here rises to my View; A greater Work
I meditate. The King Latinus, now
Advanc'd in Age, the Towns and Country rul'd
In long and pleasing Peace: (Him Fame transmits
Of Faunus and the Nymph Marica born,
Laurentian Nymph; Faunus from Picus sprung,
And He from Saturn, Author of the Race.)
To Him no Son, no Offspring Male remain'd,
By Fate; but all in Spring of early Youth
Were snatch'd away. To heir the State, surviv'd
One only Daughter, in her ripen'd Years

Full blooming, and mature for Nuptial Joy.
Her various Princes sought thro' Latian Realms,
And wide Ausonia: More than all the rest,
Turnus of graceful Form, and Royal Birth,
In Ancestry illustrious; Whom the Queen
Hasted, with passionate Desire, to join
In That Alliance: But the Oracles
Of Heav'n with various Prodigies oppose.

Just in the Centre of the most retir'd
And secret Court an holy Laurel stood,
For many Years religiously preserv'd:
Which found, when first He built the stately Tow'rs,
Latinus' self, as ancient Fame relates,
To Phœbus consecrated; and from thence
To the Laurentian People gave their Name.
Here Bees, thick flying thro' the liquid Air,
With humming Noise (Surprizing to relate!)
Beset it's Top, and with their mutual Feet
Connected, on the leafy Branches hung,
A sudden Swarm. Immediately the Sage
Prophetick cries, A foreign Prince we see
From the same Quarter on These Coasts arrive,
And Sov'reign in the lofty Palace reign.
Besides, as chaste Lavinia, Royal Maid,
Stood by her Father, and with holy Brands
Kindled the Altars; with her flowing Hair

(Wond'rous!) She seem'd to catch the Flame, and all
Her Head-Attire to crackle in the Blaze:
Her Regal Tresses, and her Crown, enrich'd
With Gems, involv'd in ruddy Vapour glar'd,
And all the Palace round diffus'd the Fire.
That Omen of a strange and dire Portent
Was rumour'd; For 'twas said, that She her self
By Fate in Glory should illustrious rise,
But to the People menac'd dreadful War.

But, anxious at These Prodigies, the King
Repairs to Faunus' Oracle, his Sire
Skill'd in the Future; and consults the Groves
Beneath Albunea's Height, supreme of Woods;

Thro' whose thick Shades a sacred Fountain sounds,
And sulph'rous stenchy Exhalations breathes.
Hence all th'Italian and Oenotrian Realms
In Doubts seek Answers: Hither when the Priest
Has brought his Off'rings, and in silent Night
Sleeps on spred Skins of fleecy Victims slain;
Unnumber'd Fantoms flutt'ring round he sees
In wond'rous Forms, and various Voices hears,
Enjoys the Conversation of the Gods,
And speaks to Acheron in Hell below.
Here then Latinus' self, the Oracles
Consulting, by the Rite accustom'd, slew
An hundred woolly Sheep; and on their Skins
And Fleeces, underneath him spred, repos'd
His Limbs: When sudden from the deepest Grove
This Voice was heard. Attempt not, O my Son,
To match thy Daughter with a Latian Lord;
Nor trust the Hymenéals now design'd.
A foreign Son-in-law shall come, whose Race

Shall raise our Name to Heav'n; And future Times
Shall see All turn'd and govern'd by Their Sway,
Where Sol, both Oceans viewing, rolls his Course.

This Answer, by his Father, Faunus giv'n
In silent Night, Latinus in his Breast
Conceal'd not; But already thro' the Towns
Of wide Ausonia flying Fame around
Had blaz'd the Rumour: When the Trojan Youth,
Under the Covert of a graffy Bank,
Had moor'd thier Fleet. Æneas, and the Chiefs,
And beautiful Iülus, lie repos'd
Beneath the Branches of a lofty Oak;
Prepare their Meal, upon the verdant Turf.
Lay wheaten Cakes, (so Jove himself advis'd)

And on them Heaps of Woodland Fruitage pile.
Here, having all their other Food consum'd,
When, forc'd by Penury and short Repast,
By chance their hungry Appetites they turn'd
To slender Viands, and with Hands and Teeth
Dar'd violate the fatal Crust's flat Orb,
Nor spar'd their Trenchers; See, Iülus cry'd,
Our Plates themselves, our Dishes we devour:
Not more alluding. First to all their Toils

That Speech a Period shew'd; His Father first
Snatch'd from his Mouth the Word, and in his Mind
With deep Surprize the Oracle revolv'd.
Then thus: Hail! Nation due to me by Fate,
And You, all hail! Ye faithful Gods of Troy:
This is our Country, This our fix'd Abode.
For (now I recollect) This secret Scheme
Of Destiny my Sire Anchises left:
When thee, my Son, at Shores unknown arriv'd,
Hunger shall force, thro' Scarcity of Food,
To eat thy Dishes; There fatigu'd expect
A settled Mansion: And remember There
To lay the first Foundation of thy Walls.
This was That Hunger he foretold; This last
Ordain'd to end our Labours.

Then cheerful, with the Sun's first rising Light,
Let us explore, what Country This, and who
Th'Inhabitants, and where it's Cities stand;
And from the Harbour diff'rent ways pursue.
Now from your Bowls to Jove Libations pour;
My Sire Anchises with religious Pray'rs
Invoke; and on your Boards replace the Wine.

This said, He binds his Temples with a Wreath
Of verdant Boughs; and supplicant adores
The Genius of the Place, and Earth, the first
Of Deities, the Nymphs, and River-Gods
As yet unknown, and Night, and of the Night
The rising Starry Signs; in order next
The Phrygian Mother, and Idæan Jove,
And both his Parents, one rever'd in Heav'n,
And one in Erebus. Then thrice serene
Th'Almighty Father thunder'd from the Sky,
And shook a Cloud, with Rays of Light, and Gold
Effulgent: Sudden thro' the Trojan Troops.
The Rumour ran, that now the Day was come,
In which their destin'd City's Walls should rise.
With cheerful Speed industrious they recruit:

Their Feasts; and, in th'important Augury
Rejoicing, place their Bowls, and crown the Wine.
Soon as the first returning Morn had ris'n
Upon the World: They diversely explore
The Coasts, the Cities, and the Country's Bounds:
Here flows Numicus' Fount; there Tyber's Stream;
And here the warlike Latins fix their Seat.
Then Prince Æneas sends from ev'ry Rank
An hundred chos'n Ambassadours, dispatch'd
To the Imperial Walls, with Olive-Boughs
All wreath'd, to bear his Presents to the King,
And sue for Peace: They execute their Charge
With rapid Haste. Himself describes the Walls
With a low Trench; the first Foundation lays;
And, like a Fort, his City on the Shore
With Banks and Battlements incloses round.

And now, their destin'd Journey having pass'd,
Th'Ambassadours beheld the Latin Tow'rs,
And lofty Palaces, and reach'd the Walls.
Before the City, Boys, and blooming Youth
With rapid Chariots exercise their Strength,
And tame their Horses in the dusty Field;
Or bend their twanging Bows, and with strong Arms
Launch the tough Jav'lin; with the Dart, and Shaft,

Contending. To the aged Monarch's Ears
Swift on his Steed a Messenger relates,
That Men of awful Port, in foreign Garb,
Were moving tow'rds the Walls: He gives Command
To call them to the Court, and in the Midst
Sits lofty on th'hereditary Throne.

A spacious Palace, in the City's height,
Sublime upon an hundred Pillars stood,
With gloomy Groves religiously obscure,
Laurentian Picus' Palace; Where the Kings
The first Inauguration of their Sway,
The Sceptres, and the Regal Fasces took:
This Court their Temple; Here the sacred Feasts;
And here the Fathers, by th'accustom'd Rite,
Killing a Victim Ram, in order sate
Along the Boards. Before the stately Doors

Th'Effigies of their Ancestors stood rang'd
In Rows of antique Cedar; Italus,
Father Sabinus, Planter of the Vine,
Holding in Imag'ry his crooked Scythe,
And aged Saturn, and the double Front
Of Janus; and the other ancient Kings,
Who for their Country suffer'd Wounds in War.
Besides; Thick Arms upon the sacred Posts,
Curve Scymitars, and captive Chariots hung:
And Crests of Helmets; massy Bars of Gates;
And Darts, and Shields, and Beaks from Vessels torn.
Picus himself, with his Quirinal Wand,
Sate in his narrow Trabeal Robe succinct,
Tamer of Steeds, and in his Left-hand bore
Th'Ancilian Shield: Whom Circe, stung with Love,
Struck with her golden Rod, and with her Charms
And magic Simples to a Bird transform'd,
And all with Colours interspers'd his Wings.

In such a Temple of the Gods, enthron'd
On his paternal Seat, Latinus calls
The Trojans to his Presence in the Court;
And Thus with pleasing Accent first began.

Tell us, Ye Trojans, (For your Name and Race
Are not to us unknown, nor come you here
Unheard of;) Say, what seek you? Or what Cause
Has urg'd your Navy to th'Ausonian Shore
Thro' such a Space of Ocean? Whether driv'n
By Errour of the Way, or Stress of Storms,
(Variety of Perils on the Deep,
Obvious to Mariners) you enter here
Our River's Mouth, and rest within the Port:
Fly not our Hospitality; nor judge
Erroneous of the Latins, Saturn's Race,
Just of themselves without Restraint, or Laws,
And by th'Example of their ancient God.
Nay I remember (tho' long Tract of Time
Obscures the Fame) th'Auruncan Sires relate,
That Dardanus, from These Dominions sprung,
Pierc'd into Phrygia, and th'Idæan Realms,
And Thracian Samos, Samothracia now:
He now, from Coritus' Tyrrhenian Seat,
Admitted to the starry Court of Heav'n,
With Altars, in the golden Palace high
Enthron'd, augments the Number of the Gods.

He spoke: And Thus Ilioneus reply'd.
O King, from Faunus' Blood illustrious sprung;
Neither by stormy Billows hither toss'd,
Nor by the Stars, or Shores unknown, deceiv'd,
Arrive we on your Confines: With Design,
And willing Minds This City we approach;
Ejected from Those Realms, which once the Sun,
Rolling from Heav'n's extremest Verge, beheld
The greatest. Jove begins our Lineage; Jove
The Dardans boast, the Author of their Race.
Our Prince himself, from Jove's high Blood deriv'd,
Trojan Æneas, sends us to your Court.
How great a Tempest swept th'Idæan Fields,
Issuing from dire Mycenæ; with what Fates
Both Worlds of Europe and of Asia join'd
In Battle, Those have heard (if such there be)
Whom the most distant Limits of the Globe

Sever by Tides; And Those (if such there be)
Who live divided by the middle Zone,
Stretch'd between four, beneath Sol's burning Car.
Toss'd from That Deluge, thro' so vast a Tract
Of Ocean, for our Country-Gods we ask
A little Mansion, and a safe Retreat,
And Air, and Water, common Gifts to all.
On your Dominions nothing of Disgrace
Shall we reflect; Nor small will be your Fame;
Nor shall by length of Time the grateful Sense
Of such an Obligation be effac'd:
Nor shall th'Ausonian Nation e'er repent
To have receiv'd the Trojans. By the Fates
Of great Æneas, and his potent Hand,
Experienc'd long in Faith, in War and Arms,
I swear, that many People, many States,
(Despise us not, because we suppliant come,
Spontaneous, and with Wreaths of proffer'd Peace)
Have courted our Alliance, and desir'd
By Partnership to join us with their Realms.
But by their dread Commands the Fates Divine
Urg'd us to seek Your Coasts: Hence Dardanus

Deriv'd his Race, and hither he returns:
And great Apollo, from his awful Fane,
To Tyrrhene Tyber, and Numicus' Fount,
The consecrated Spring, directs our Course.
Some Gifts, besides, preserv'd from burning Troy,
The little Relicks of his former State,
Our Prince presents you. In This Gold his Sire
Anchises at the Altars sacrific'd:
These, by the Rite accustom'd, giving Laws
To the assembled Nations, Priam wore;
This Sceptre, This Tiara, and These Robes,
The Labour of the Trojan Dames.

So spake Ilioneus. Latinus fix'd
Sits in one Posture, musing, on the Ground
Rolling his Eyes intent: Nor does so much
The Priameian Sceptre, nor the Robes
Of broider'd Purple move his Kingly Mind:
More on his Daughter's Nuptials he employs
His deepest Meditation; and revolves
Old Faunus' Oracle within his Breast:
That This was He, the Son-in-law, design'd
By Fate, arriving from a foreign Coast,
And Partner of his Throne; That hence a Race
Renown'd for Valour, should in Time proceed,
And o'er the Universe extend it's Sway.
At length with Joy he speaks: The Gods succeed

Our Enterprise, and ratify the Fates
Themselves predicted: Trojan, what Thou ask'st
Is granted: Nor your Gifts do I refuse:
While King Latinus reigns, you shall not want
The fertil Glebe, and Opulence of Troy.
Let ev'n Æneas (if he so desires
Our Friendship, and Alliance) hither come,
Nor shun the Interview: To me 'twill prove
A Pledge of Peace, to touch That Monarch's Hand.
You to your King This Answer now return.
I have a Daughter, whom our Country Gods
And various Prodigys from Heav'n forbid
With any of our Nation to be join'd
In Nuptial Bonds; and warn us, it remains
For Latium, that a Son-in-law shall come
From foreign Parts, whose Race shall raise our Name
To Heav'n: That He is destin'd, I believe,
And (if my Thoughts divine aright) desire.

Thus having spoke, the aged King selects
From all his Number chosen Steeds: There stood

Three hundred shining in their lofty Stalls:
To all the Trojans he commands to lead
The wingy-footed Coursers, cover'd o'er
With rich embroider'd Crimson: Down their Breasts
Hang Golden Collars; And adorn'd with Gold
They champ the yellow Gold between their Teeth.
Next to the absent Trojan Prince he sends
A Chariot, and it's harness'd Pair, of Breed
Celestial, from their Nostrils snorting Fire:
The Race of Those, which wily Circe rais'd,
Stol'n from her Father by clandestine Arts,
And of a substituted Female bred.
Thus with the Gifts and Speeches of the King,
Th'Æneadæ, high on their stately Steeds,
Return exulting, and report the Peace.

But lo! th'inexorable Wife of Jove
Comes from Inachian Argos, born in Air
Sublime; and from the Sky at distance sees
Joyful Æneas, and the Trojan Fleet,
From high Pachynus, on Sicilia's Coast.
She sees them now intent on Building, sees
The Crew in Land confiding, and their Ships
Abandon'd: Fix'd she stood with stinging Rage;
Then shook her Head, and Thus indignant spoke.

Ah Race detested! and the Fates of Troy
Oppos'd to mine! Could ev'n the Conquer'd fall

In Phrygian Fields? Could ev'n th'Enslav'd be Slaves?
And Troy consum'd in Flames the Trojans burn?
They thro' the middle of the Foes, and Fires
Have found their Way: My Deity at last,
It seems, lies vanquish'd; Or with glutted Hate
I now desist. Ev'n when expell'd they fled
Their native Soil, Vindictive I presum'd
To follow them; and to the exil'd Crew
O'er all the Ocean's Waves my self oppos'd.
Exhausted is the Force of Sea, and Sky,
Against the Trojans: What to me avail'd
The Syrtes, Scylla, or Charybdis' Gulf?
In Tyber's wish'd-for Chanel they are lodg'd,

Secure of Storms, and Me. Mars could destroy
The mighty Lapithéan Race; Ev'n Jove
Himself, to gratify Diana's Rage,
Old Calydon abandon'd: By what Crime
So terrible a Punishment did either
The Lapithæ, or Calydon deserve?
But I, Jove's Royal Consort, who could leave
Nought unattempted, but all Measures try'd,
Unhappy, by Æneas am subdu'd.
But if my Deity be not it self.
Sufficient; Sure I should not doubt to seek
Whatever Aid can be implor'd: If Heav'n
I cannot move, I will sollicit Hell.
Admit, 'twill not be granted me to bar
The Latian Kingdoms; And, by Fates unmov'd,

Lavinia still remains the destin'd Bride.
Yet we may add Obstructions, and retard
Th'important Issue; Yet a wastful War
The Subjects of both Monarchs may destroy.
Thus at their People's Cost let both the Kings,
The Father, and the Son, unite their Realms.
Princess, Thy Dowry shall be paid in Blood,
By Trojans, and Rutulians; And prepar'd
Bellona waits to make thy bridal Bed.
Nor did Cisséan Hecuba alone
Teem with a Nuptial Taper; Venus too,
It will be prov'd, has such a Birth disclos'd;
She has her Paris, and connubial Flames
Again pernicious to new-rising Troy.

Thus having said, She speeds her horrid Flight

To Earth; and from the Furies' black Abodes,
And Shades Nocturnal, dire Alecto calls;
Whose only Pleasure is in joyless War,
And Rage, and Treachery, and noxious Crimes.
Ev'n Pluto, and th'Infernal Sisters hate
The odious Monster; To so many Shapes
She turns herself, such hideous Forms assumes,
And sprouts with such Variety of Snakes.
To whom Thus Juno, irritating, spoke.

This Labour, Virgin, Off-spring of the Night,
Indulge to me; This Task for me perform;
To save my sinking Honour, and forbid
Th'Æneadæ by Nuptials to amuse
The Latian King, or seize th'Italian Coasts.
Thou canst agreeing Brothers rouse to War,
Engender Hate in Familys, and toss
Within their Walls thy Whips, and fun'ral Brands:
Thou hast a thousand Forms, a thousand Arts

Of Mischief: Ransack all thy fertil Breast;
Confound their Measures of concerted Peace;
Sow deep the Seeds of Discord: Let the Youth
At once desire, demand, and snatch their Arms.

Infected with Gorgonian pois'nous Blood,
The Fiend to Latium, and the lofty Walls
Of King Latinus, swift directs her Flight;
And silent at the Queen's Apartment waits:
Whom, on th'Arrival of the Trojan Fleet,
And Turnus' Nuptials, anxious female Cares,
And Passions boiling, discompos'd. To Her
The Fury from her griesly Tresses flings
One of her Snakes, and to her inmost Breast
Dispatches him; That, by the Monster urg'd
To Madness, all the Court she might embroil.
The bloated Serpent, sliding 'twixt her Robes,
And smooth sleek Bosom, rolls without a Touch,
And, unperceiv'd, his vip'rous Breath inspires:

Hangs, as a Chain of Gold, about her Neck;
As a long twining Fillet, interweaves
Her Hair; and slipp'ry wanders o'er her Limbs.
While the first Plague, beneath the pois'nous Juice
Sliding, invades her Senses, and with Fire
Her Vitals blends; nor has as yet the Flame
Seiz'd all her Soul: More softly she complains,
And with a Mother's wonted Fondness speaks;
Much weeping for her Daughter, and the Scheme
Of Phrygian Nuptials. Is Lavinia then,
Great Monarch, to the Fugitives of Troy
Yielded a Captive? In your Breast remains
No Pity for your Daughter, nor Your self?
None for her Mother? Whom the Pirate false,
Perfidious, with the first fair Wind will leave,
Launching to Sea, and with him bear away
The Virgin? Did not so the Phrygian Swain
Pierce into Lacedæmon, and transport
Ledæan Helen to the Trojan Tow'rs?

What is your sacred Faith, your ancient Care
For your own Subjects, and your Hand so oft
Plighted to Turnus, Partner of your Blood?
If from a foreign Race the Latins seek
A Son-in-law; And so you still resolve;
And if your Father Faunus awes your Mind
By his Commands: All Lands disjoin'd from Ours,
And from our Sceptres free, in my Account
Are foreign deem'd; And so the Gods intend.
And Turnus, if his Pedigree be trac'd
To it's first Fountain, from Acrisius springs,
From Inachus, and from Mycenæ's Realms.

When King Latinus Thus in vain explor'd
Against her Purpose resolute she saw;
And to her inmost Blood the Snaky Plague
Had spred it self, and all her Soul possess'd:
Then stung, unhappy, by the Monsters dire,
O'er the vast City, with unbounded Rage,
She roves distracted. Like a whirling Top,

Urg'd by the twisted Thong, which Boys, intent
Upon their Sport, the empty Cloysters round,
In a wide Circuit exercise: The Wood,
Driv'n by the Scourge, in spiral Eddys flys;
The stripling Throng in Ignorance admires
The spinning Box; The Lashes give it Life.
Acted with such Rapidity she runs
Thro' the mid Citys, and the madding Crouds.
Ev'n, on pretended Bacchanalian Rites,
A greater Mischief, with more frantick Rage,
Attempting, to the Woods she flys; and There
Her Daughter in the shady Mountains hides:
To cheat the Trojans of the destin'd Spouse,
And disappoint the Nuptials. Loud she crys,
Evoë! Bacchus! Who alone deserv'st
The Virgin Bride; For Thee (so Fame reports)
The Female Train the soft Vine-Jav'lins wield,

Thee they surround, their consecrated Locks
For Thee they nourish. All the Matrons fir'd,
With the same Furies in their Breasts, to seek
New Dwellings, leave their Houses; To the Winds
They give their Necks, and Hair: Some fill the Sky
With trembling Yells; and, clad in Skins of Beasts,
Brandish their Spears with Viny Wreaths entwin'd.
Her self inflam'd, and waving in the Midst
A blazing Pine, the Hymenéal sings
For Turnus, and her Daughter; rolling round
Her sanguine Eyes: And with a sudden Howl,
Iö, Ye Latin Matrons, loud she shrieks;
Hear me, where'er you are: If aught remains
Within your pious Breasts of Care and Love
For lost Amata; if a Mother's Right
Can move you; Loose the Fillets of your Hair,
And celebrate the Orgie-Feasts with Me.

Thus in the Woods, and desart Haunts of Beasts,
With Bacchus' Rage Alecto goads the Queen,
And hurrys her to Madness. When she thought,
That Fury, for the first, enough inflam'd;
Latinus' Court, and Counsels all embroil'd:
Thence the grim Goddess, rais'd on sooty Wings,
Strait to the brave Rutulian's Walls repairs;

The City built of old (so Fame reports,)
By Danaë, (thither driv'n by boistrous Winds,)
For her Acrisian Colony: The Place
Was by the ancient Fathers Ardua call'd,
And Ardea now th'illustrious Name remains.
Here, in the lofty Palace, Turnus slept
(Such was his Chance) in gloomy Dead of Night:
Alecto lays aside her griesly Shape,
And Fury's Visage; and her self transforms
Into an aged Dame; with Wrinkles ploughs
Her wither'd Front; with hoary Hairs assumes
A Fillet; and an Olive-Wreath entwines:
Chang'd to old Calybe, of Juno's Train,
And Priestess of her Temple; and before
The Youth, with Words like These, her self presents.

Turnus, Wilt thou endure so many Toils
In vain to be exhausted? and resign
Thy Sceptres to the Colony of Troy?
Thy Nuptials, and thy Dowry bought with Blood
The King denys thee; And a foreign Prince
Is sought for, to succeed, and heir the Realm.
Go now, Derided; and thy self expose
To Perils which Ingratitude rewards:

Go, rout the Tuscan Legions; and in Peace
Protect the Latins. Me, while pleasing Sleep
Relieves thee, Juno's self, th'Almighty Queen,
Commands to thee This Message to relate.
Then rise, and cheerful arm the Youth, and lead
Their Squadrons thro' the Gates; dislodge the Chiefs
Of Troy, now riding in our Tyber's Mouth:
And burn their painted Ships: The Pow'rs Divine
Command it: Let the King, Latinus' self,
If he submit not, or refuse to grant
Thy Rights of Nuptials, and the promis'd Bride,
Experience Turnus terrible in Arms.

To whom the Youth with scornful Air replys,
The Prophetess deriding: That their Fleet
Within our Tyber's Chanel is arriv'd,
Has not (as Thou supposest) 'scap'd my Ears:
Imagine not my Soul can be alarm'd

With Fears like These: Nor is Heav'n's mighty Queen
Of me unmindful.
But Thee, O Mother Prophetess, o'ercome
With Rust of Age, and impotent of Truth,
Vain Cares disquiet; Thou among the Arms
Of Kings with causeless Terrours art deceiv'd.
'Tis Thine to tend the Statues of the Gods,
And watch their Shrines: Leave War and Peace to Men;
To whom the Management of War belongs.

Such Words as These inflam'd Alecto's Rage;
Him, while he spoke, a sudden Trembling seiz'd
O'er all his Limbs; Fix'd stood his haggard Eyes;
The Fury hisses with so many Snakes,
So dire a Figure opens to his View.
Then, fiercely rolling round her fiery Orbs,
Him wav'ring, and attempting to reply
She back repels, and on her Hair erect
Uprears two Serpents, clangs her sounding Whip,
And rapid Thus with hideous Accent speaks.
Lo! I, who with the Rust of Age o'ercome,
And impotent of Truth, among the Arms
Of Kings with causeless Terrours am deceiv'd,
See! from the Infernal Sisters' Seat I come:
War in my Hand, and Death I bear.

So saying, to the Youth she hurls a Brand;
And Torches smoking with a smould'ring Light

Fixes beneath his Breast. With Horrour rous'd
He starts from Sleep; O'er all his Body, Sweat
Bedews his shudd'ring Limbs: For Arms he raves,
Distracted; Arms upon his Bed demands,
And o'er the Palace; madding with the Love
Of Battels, and the barb'rous Rage of War.
As when, with mighty Noise, the sputt'ring Flame

Of Wood, surrounds the boiling Cauldron's Sides;
The dancing Liquor bubbles with the Heat;
It's aqueous Fury roars, and smokes within,
Exuberant, and foaming: Nor does now
The Water's bounding Tide it self contain;
The pitchy Vapour flying mounts in Air.

Therefore the Chiefs of all the Youth he sends,
The Peace now broken, to Latinus' Court;
Wills him to arm, to guard th'Italian Coasts,
And from his Territorys drive the Foe:

Himself would prove sufficient to engage
Both with the Trojan, and the Latin Pow'rs.
He said; and to the Gods his Pray'rs preferr'd.
With emulation the Rutulians rouse
Each other to the War: His beauteous Youth
On Some prevails; on Some his Grandsire Kings;
On Some his Valour, and his Fame in Arms.

While Turnus the Rutulians Thus inspires
With Courage: Swift, uprais'd on Stygian Wings,
Alecto to the Trojans speeds her Flight;
Having with new Sagacity espy'd
The Place, where fair Iülus, on the Shore
With Toils and Hounds the flying Deer pursu'd.
Here the Cocytian Maid with sudden Rage
Of keenest Appetite provok'd the Pack,
(Tinging their Noses with th'accustom'd Scent,)
To hunt a Stag: Which first th'Occasion prov'd

Of Woes, and fir'd the Peasantry to Arms.
A Stag there was, of comely Shape, and tall
With branching Horns: whom ravish'd from his Dam
The Sons of Tyrrheus nourish'd, and their Sire

Tyrrheus himself, to whom was giv'n the Charge
Of all the Royal Herds, and spacious Fields.
This Beast, accustom'd to their gentle Rule,
Their Sister Silvia with uncommon Care
Adorn'd, and with soft Wreaths his Antlers crown'd,
And comb'd, and wash'd him in the limpid Stream.
He, patient of the Hand, his Master's Board
Attended; wander'd in the Woods; at Night,
Tho' late, spontaneous to his Home return'd.
Him, at a distance straying, in the Chace,
The eager Dogs of young Iülus rous'd;
As gliding down the Stream by chance he swam,
And on the grassy Bank allay'd the Heat.
Ascanius' self, inflam'd with Thirst of Praise,
Level'd an Arrow from his bended Bow;
Nor was the God not present to direct

His erring Hand: The Shaft with hissing Sound
Driv'n thro' the hollow Flank and Entrails flew.
To his lov'd Home the wounded Beast repairs;
Bloody, and groaning, enters his known Stall,
Like One imploring; and with plaintive Noise
Fills all the House. Their Sister Silvia first,
Shrieking with loud Laments, her Bosom beats,
And calls the sturdy Peasants to her Aid.
They (for the Fiend within the silent Woods
Lies lurking) at the Summons strait appear:
One with a Firebrand, with a knotty Stake
Another arm'd; What-e'er they find in Search
Rage makes a Weapon. Tyrrheus calls his Clan;
As then by chance he riv'd an Oak in Four
With Wedges inward forc'd, and puff'd amain,
Wielding his Axe, and panting o'er the Blows.
Then from her Spying-place the Hellish Pest,
A Juncture fit for Mischief having gain'd,
Ascends the Stall; and on it's Summit sounds
The Rustick Charge, and thro' the crooked Horn
Swells her Tartarean Voice: At which the Grove
Suddenly trembled; And the Woods profound

All thunder'd; Trivia's Lake at distance heard,
Velinus' Rivulets, and hoary Nar
With sulph'rous Waves: And to their Bosoms press'd
The frighted Mothers clasp'd their crying Babes.
Swift to the Sound, where'er the Trumpet gave
The direful Signal, snatching up their Arms,
From ev'ry Part the hardy Peasants run:
And, from their open Tents, the Trojan Youth
Pour out their Forces to Ascanius' Aid.
They form their Ranks; nor now in rustick Fray
With knotty Clubs, or sharpen'd Stakes they fight,
But with the two-edg'd Steel: And all around
Rises a horrid Crop of Swords unsheath'd;

Their Arms against the Sun reflected shine,
And cast a brazen Light beneath the Clouds.
As when the Waves first whiten with the Foam;
The Ocean swells it self by just degrees,
And lifts it's Billows higher; 'till at last
It rises from the Bottom to the Sky.
Here fell before the first embattled Line
Almo, the eldest Youth of Tyrrheus' Sons,
Shot by a sounding Arrow: For the Wound
Beneath his Weazon stuck, and with his Blood
Clos'd up the Passage of the humid Voice,
And choak'd the slender Life. Upon the Field

Around him many slain promiscuous lay;
And old Galesus, while he interpos'd
To offer Peace; Than whom more just was None,
Nor wealthier in Ausonian Lands: To Him
Five bleating Flocks, as many Herds return'd;
And with an hundred Ploughs he till'd the Glebe.

While Thus the Fight with equal Fortune hangs;
The Goddess, having now perform'd her Charge,
Giv'n Death a Taste, and dipp'd the War in Blood,
Forsakes Hesperia; and in Air sublime
To Juno Thus with Pride and Triumph speaks.
See Discord by dire War for you complete;
Bid them unite in Amity, and Leagues:
Since with Ausonian Gore I have imbru'd
The Trojans; if your Will concur with mine,
This I will add: I'll rouze the neighb'ring Towns
With Rumour's to the Fight, and fire their Minds
With mad Desire of Arms; that they may come
Auxiliaries: Thro' all the Countries round
I'll scatter War. Then Juno thus replies.
Abundant are the Terrours, and the Frauds:
The Causes of the War stand fix'd; They fight
In closest Battle join'd, with Arms which Chance
At first supply'd; New Blood has ting'd Those Arms.
Let King Latinus, and the precious Son
Of Venus celebrate such Marriage-Rites,
Such Hymenéals: Thee Heav'n's Lord supreme
Permits not longer in th'Ethereal Air
To rove licentious: From These Realms retire:
Whatever Task, or Fortune yet remains,
My self will manage. Thus Saturnia spoke:

The Fiend expands her snaky sounding Wings;
Seeks black Cocytus' Seat, and leaves the Sky.

Full in Italia's Centre, underneath
The lofty Hills, there is a Place renown'd
By Rumour wide, and fam'd on various Coasts;
Amsanctus' Valleys: Which on ev'ry side
A gloomy Wood incloses, thick with Trees;
And in the Midst a rapid Torrent whirls
It's Waves, and tumbling foams among the Stones
With roaring Noise. A horrid Cavern here
Is shewn: Thro' whose black Tunnels breaths the Stench
Of griesly Dis; and burst from Acheron
A Gulph opes wide its pestilential Jaws:

Thro' which the Fury plung'd her hideous Form
Detested, and reliev'd the Earth and Skies.

Nor less mean-while Saturnia to the War
Adds her last Hand: The Shepherds from the Field
Rush to the City, bringing back their Slain,
Young Almo, and Galesus' Face besmear'd;
Conjure Latinus, and implore the Gods.
Them Turnus present joins; and, in the Midst
Of Crimes, and Slaughter, aggravates the Guilt,

Doubles the Terrour, and inflames their Rage.
Alledges, that the Trojans are receiv'd
Partners to share the Realm; a Phrygian Race
Incorporate; Himself expell'd from Court.
Then Those, whose Mothers thro' the pathless Woods,
With Bacchanalian Madness dancing, rov'd,
(For great the Influence of Amata's Name)
Come gather'd from all Parts, and urge the Fight.
Against the Fates, and Prodigies Divine,
And angry Gods, infatuate they demand
The impious War; and obstinately croud
With Tumult round the King Latinus' Court.
He, like a Rock amidst the Sea, unmov'd,

Stands opposite, resisting: Like a Rock
Amidst the Sea; Which, while the roaring Tide
Encroaches, with it's Weight it self sustains,
Among the noisy Waves: In vain the Cliffs
Foaming rebellow loud; And all around
The broken Sea-weed dashes on it's Sides.
But when no Pow'r was left him to o'er-rule
Their blind Resolves; And all th'Affair runs smooth
By cruel Juno's Nod: The awful Sire,
Protesting much, to witness calls the Gods,
And empty Air; The Fates, alas! he cry'd,
O'erpow'r us; And we drive before the Storm.
Your selves, Ye Miserable, with your Blood
Shall dearly pay the Forfeit of your Crime.
Thee, Turnus, Thee a Penalty severe
Awaits; And thou with Pray'rs too late preferr'd
Shalt importune the Gods: For Me, my Rest
Is found; And in the Port my Vessel rides:

An happy Fun'ral-Pomp is all I lose.
He said no more; but in his Palace-Walls
Confin'd himself, and left the Reins of State.

An ancient Rite Hesperian Latium held;
Which all the Alban Cities still observ'd
As sacred, Now Imperial Rome observes;
When first they fire the Martial God to Arms:
Whether against the Getæ they provide
The Woes of War; or to th'Hyrcanians bend;
Or to th'Arabians; and the Indian East;
And from the Parthians re-demand their Spoils.
Two Gates of War there stand (so call'd their Name)
Tremendously religious, by the Dread
Of horrid Mars: An hundred brazen Bolts,
And everlasting Iron's solid Strength
Secures them; Nor does Janus ever cease
To guard the Portal. Here, when certain War
The Fathers' by their Sentence have decreed;
The Consul, clad in his Quirinal Gown,
And rich Gabinian Robe, himself unlocks
The jarring Doors; Himself calls forth the Fight:
Then all the Forces follow; And at once
In shrill Assent the brazen Trumpets sound.
Latinus then, by This accustom'd Rite,
They urge against the Trojans to denounce
Defiance, and unbar the fatal Doors.

The King, averse, detests their Touch, and flies
The odious Ministry; and hides himself
In close Retirement. Then the Queen of Gods,
From Heav'n descending, with her Hand impels
The ling'ring Bolts; and on their crashing Hinge
Her self bursts ope the iron Gates of War.
Ausonia, peaceful, and unmov'd e'erwhile,
Now burns with Fury: Some on foot prepare
To take the Field; Some storm in Clouds of Dust,
High on their lofty Steeds: All Arms require.
Some scour their polish'd Shields, and pointed Spears,
And whet their Battle-Axes; pleas'd to wave
The Banners, and to hear the Trumpets sound.
Five mighty Towns on Anvils rais'd renew
Their Arms; Atina potent, Tybur proud,
Ardea, and Crustumeria, and with Tow'rs
Antemnæ crown'd. They form their solid Cisques;
And Sallow Twigs for bossy Targets bend:
Some brazen Corslets, or smooth Cuisses beat
In ductile Silver: All the due Regard
To Tillage, all the Honour of the Plough,
And Love of Vintage, hither is transfer'd:
The Weapons of their Fathers they recast
In Forges: Now the Trumpet's Clangor sounds;
The Word is giv'n: One snatches from the Roof
His Helm with eager Haste; Another joins

His neighing Steeds in Harness, fits his Shield,
Laces his triple-tissu'd Coat of Mail,
And buckles to his Side his trusty Sword.

Now open Helicon, and Songs inspire,

Celestial Muses: Say, what Kings were rous'd
To Battel; under ev'ry Chief what Troops
Crouded the Fields; In Latium's fertil Soil
Ev'n Then what Heroes flourish'd; With what Arms
It kindled War: For You, Ye Pow'rs Divine,
Can best remember, and record; To Us

A Breath of scanty Rumour scarce descends.

First, stern Mezentius, Scorner of the Gods,
To War advances from the Tyrrhene Coasts,
And arms his Troops: With Him his Son appears,
Lausus, than whom more beautiful was None,
Except Laurentian Turnus' graceful Form.

Lausus, for Horses tam'd, and Beasts subdu'd
Illustrious, from Agylla's City leads
In vain his Thousand; worthy to enjoy
A better and a happier Sire; and He
Unworthy of so good and brave a Son.

Next Aventinus, fam'd in War, and born.

Of warlike Hercules, upon the Plain
His conqu'ring Horses and his Chariot shews,
Crown'd with triumphant Palm; and on his Shield
His Father's Impress bears, the Hydra, round
Inclos'd, and hissing with an hundred Snakes.
Him in the Wood of Aventinus' Mount
The Priestess Rhea, by a stol'n Embrace
A Woman mingling with a God, disclos'd
To Light ethereal; when from Geryon slain
Tyrinthius Conqu'ror reach'd Laurentum's Fields,
And wash'd th'Iberian Herds in Tyber's Stream.
Piles in their hands, and goring Pikes they bear,
And with round pointed Sabine Jav'lins fight.
Himself on foot a Lion's monstrous Hide
Throws o'er his Head, and Shoulders, with white Teeth,
And shaggy Fur: Thus stalks into the Hall,
Horrid, and with Herculean Terrour dress'd.

Two Brothers next forsake Tiburtian Walls,
Which from their Brother Tiburs took their Name,
Brave Coras, and Catillus, Argive Youth;
And in the Front, among the thickest Darts,

Advance. As when two Cloud-born Centaurs leave
With rapid Pace, some airy Mountain's Height,
From Omole, or Othrys' snowy Top
Descending: To their Steps the Wood gives way,
And crashing Trees on either side retire.

Nor was the Founder of Præneste's Tow'rs
Not present; Cæculus, the King, believ'd,
In ev'ry Age, among the rustick Herds
Of Vulcan born, and found in Smoke and Fire.
With Him a num'rous rustick Legion march'd;
The Soldiers who Præneste's lofty Walls
Inhabit, and Gabinian Juno's Fields,
Cold Anienus, and the Hernic Rocks
Water'd with Streams; whom rich Anagnia feeds,
And Father Amasenus. These in Arms
Appear not all, nor sounding Chariots drive,
Nor Targets wear: The greatest part throw Balls

Of livid Lead; Part brandish in their Hands
Two Darts: A yellow Cap of Wolf-skin made
Covers their Heads; Their left Foot bare; Their right
In the raw Leather of a Shoe inclos'd.

But from Neptunian Blood Messapus sprung,
Tamer of Steeds, whom None with Sword, or Fire
Could vanquish, suddenly to Battel calls
His long unactive Subjects, and his Troops
Unus'd to War; and reassumes his Arms.
These lead the Forces from Fescennium drawn,
And just Faliscum; These possess the Hill
And Lake of Ciminus, Capena's Groves,
Soracte's Mountains, and Flavinian Fields.
In even Lines they march'd, and sung their King:
As when the snow-white Swans thro' liquid Air
Return from Feeding, and melodious Strains
Thro' their long Throats extend; The River sounds;

And at a distance Asia's Lake returns
Their Warbling.
Nor any would have thought That num'rous Force
For brazen War assembled; but a Cloud
Of airy Birds, which from the gulphy Deep
Swift wing'd their way, and singing sought the Shore.

Lo! Clausus, from the Sabines' ancient Blood
Descended, leads a mighty Host, Himself
A mighty Host; from whom the Claudian Tribe
And Lineage now thro' Latium is diffus'd,
Since Rome in part was to the Sabines giv'n.
With Him the Amiternian Cohort wide,
The old Quirites, all Eretum's Band,
Mutuscæ Olive-bearing; Those who hold
Nomentum's Town, Velinus' dewy Fields,
Tetrica's rugged Rocks, Severus' Mount,
Casperia, Foruli, Himella's Stream;
Those who of Fabaris, and Tyber drink;
Those whom bleak Nursia sent, th'Hortinian Troops;
And Latin Clans; and Those whom (fatal Name!)

Allia with intermediate Stream divides.
Num'rous, as Surges roll'd on Libya's Sea,
When rough Orion sets in wintry Waves;
Or Ears of Corn scorch'd by the Summer's Sun,
On Hermus' Plain, or Lycia's yellow Fields:
Their Targets ring; And with their trampling Feet
The Ground beneath them trembles, as they walk.

Halesus, born of Agamemnon's Race,
Foe to the Trojan Name, his harness'd Steeds
Joins to his Chariot; and with rapid Haste
His furious Thousand brings to Turnus' Aid:
Those who with Harrows turn the Massic Soil
Fertil of Wine; and whom th'Auruncan Sires
Sent from their lofty Hills; and Those who live
Fast by the Sidicinian Seas; and Those
Who Cales leave; and near Vulturnus' Ford
Inhabit; and the Oscian Band; and rough
Saticulans. Round missile Darts they throw;
But These by Custom to a pliant Thong
Are ty'd: A Buckler on their Left they wear;
And crooked Fauchions wield in closer Fight.

Nor shalt Thou, Oebalus, be in our Verse
Left unrecorded; whom Sebethus' Nymph
(So Fame reports) to aged Telon bore,
When o'er Teleboan Capreæ's Realms he reign'd.
But, with his Father's Limits not content,
The Son ev'n Then with more extended Sway
Rul'd the Sarrastes, and the Countries wash'd
By Sarnus; Those who Batulum possess,
And Rufæ, and Celenna's Fields; And Those

Whom cloath'd with Trees Abella's Walls command;
Accustom'd, by Teutonic Mode, to hurl
Huge pond'rous Jav'lins: Rind of Cork their Casques;
And brazen Swords they wear, and brazen Shields.

Thee too the Nursian Mountains sent to War,
Ufens, renown'd by Fame for conqu'ring Arms;
Whose Subjects all the Natives round excel'd
In Fierceness, harden'd in a harden'd Soil,
The savage Æqui; us'd among the Woods
To ceaseless Hunting: Arm'd they till the Glebe;
And evermore delight to bear away
Fresh daily Plunder; and by Rapine live.

Next, of Marubian Race the valiant Priest,
Sent by the King Archippus, Umbro came;
(His Helm with happy Olive-Foliage wreath'd:)
Who with his Charms, or Touch, the vip'rous Race,
And Dragons, breathing pestilential Stench,
Could lull to Sleep, and mollify their Rage,
And heal with magick Art the Wounds they gave:
But could not cure the Wound Himself receiv'd,
Pierc'd by a Dardan Spear; Nor aught avail'd
His lulling Charms, nor Herbs on Marsian Hills
Collected: Thee Angitia's Wood deplor'd;
Thee Fucinus within his crystal Stream;

Thee mourn'd the liquid Lakes.

There Virbius march'd, illustrious, fam'd in Arms:
Whom to Hippolitus Aricia bore,
And sent to Battel; in Egeria's Woods
Nurs'd up, along the humid Shores; where stands
An Altar fat with Blood, and milder now,
Rais'd to Diana. For Tradition tells,
That when, torn piece-meal by the frighted Steeds,
Hippolytus had, by his Step-dame's Art,
Glutted his Father's Vengeance with his Blood;
He rose again to vital Air, restor'd
By med'cinal Simples, and Diana's Love.
But Heav'n's high King, with Indignation mov'd
That any Mortal from th'infernal Shades
Should to the Light of upper Life return,
Himself with Thunder to the Stygian Waves
Struck the Inventer of That med'cinal Art,
Apollo's Son. But in a Seat retir'd
Propitious Trivia hid Hippolytus,
And to the Nymph Egeria and her Groves
Committed him; That in th'Italian Woods,
Lonesom, inglorious, he might waste his Days,
And by a Change of Name be Virbius call'd.
Hence from the Temple and the sacred Groves
Of Trivia horny-footed Steeds are driv'n:
Because, by Sea-born Monsters scar'd, they flung
The Chariot and the Youth upon the Shore.
Yet not the less upon the spacious Plain
His Son in Harness manag'd fiery Steeds;
And with his Chariot rush'd into the War.

But, by the Head entire, o'ertopping all,
Turnus himself with beauteous Form appears,
High in the Van, and graceful shines in Arms.
Whose crested Helmet, with a triple Plume
Tow'ring, sustains Chimæra, from her Jaws
Breathing Ætnean Fires: The more the Fight
Kindles in Rage, and rolls with Tides of Blood;
The more she storms, and burns with baleful Flames.
With Horns erected Iö cast in Gold
(Illustrious Argument!) his Buckler grac'd,
An Heifer now, and all with Hair o'ergrown;
Argus her Watch; and Inachus her Sire,
Pouring his River from his graven Urn.
A Storm of Foot succeeds; And shielded Troops
O'er all the Fields stand thick: The Argive Youth,
Th'Auruncan Forces, the Rutulian Bands,
The old Sicani, and Sacranian Files,
And gay Labici with their painted Shields.
Those, Tyberinus, who thy Woods manure,
And Those who plough Numicus' sacred Shore;
The Ridge of Circe, and Rutulian Hills,

The Fields o'er which Anxurian Jove presides,
And with her verdant Grove Feronia pleas'd:
Where the black Pond of Satura lies deep;
And thro' low Vales cold Ufens seeks his Way,
And in the Ocean hides his mingled Waves.

These of the Volscian Race Camilla joins,
Leading her Horse-Brigade, and Troops with Brass
Refulgent: Warlike Virgin; in the Loom
And Baskets of Minerva (Female Arts!)
Unpractis'd; but inur'd to toilsom War,
And with her Fleetness to outstrip the Winds.
She o'er the Tops of untouch'd Corn would fly,
Skimming along, nor hurt the tender Grain;
Or run, supported on a swelling Wave,
Thro' the mid Sea, nor tinge her nimble Feet.
Her all the Youth, from Towns and Countries pour'd,
And Crouds of Matrons, with insatiate Gaze,
Longing pursue; and eagerly admire
How on her smooth sleek Shoulders sits her Vest
Of Regal Crimson; how a Buckle strains
Her Tresses, and confines them clasp'd in Gold;
How graceful She her Lycian Quiver bears,
And tip'd with Steel her rural Myrtle Spear.

The End of the Seventh Book.

BOOK the Eighth.

100

Soon as the Signal of the War, display'd
By Turnus, floated on Laurentum's Tow'r;
And the shrill Trumpet sounded loud Alarms;
Soon as he fir'd the sprightly Steeds, and clash'd
The rattling Arms; Forthwith their Minds confus'd

101

With Rage demand the Fight: All Latium leagu'd
Trembles with Tumult; and the madding Youth
With Fury storms: The Chiefs, Messapus first,
And Ufens, and the Scorner of the Gods
Mezentius, from all Parts their Succours bring,
And leave no Hinds to till the spacious Fields.
Then to great Diomede's Imperial Walls,
To sue for Succour, Venulus is sent,
T'inform him, that the Trojans were arriv'd
In Latium; That Æneas with his Fleet
Had brought his vanquish'd Gods, himself declar'd
The King requir'd by Fate; That many Realms
Espous'd the Trojan's Int'rest; and his Name
Thro' Latium's Regions was diffus'd around:
What was his End by such Attempts propos'd,
What Issue of his Battles he desir'd,
Should he succeed, to Diomede himself,
More plainly than to either of the Kings,
To Turnus, or Latinus, must appear.

In Latium Thus: All which the Trojan Chief
Perceiving, fluctuates with a Tide of Cares;

102

His wav'ring Mind alternately divides
A thousand Ways; now This, now That resolves,
And turns on ev'ry side his shifting Thoughts.
As when in brazen Vats the trembling Light
Of Water, from the Sun's reflected Beams,
Or from the Image of the radiant Moon,
Flits all around, and now is whirl'd aloft
To the high Roof, and dances in the Air.

'Twas Night; and ev'ry Creature, Beast, and Bird,
O'er all the World, lay hush'd in soft Repose;
Whence Prince Æneas, on the Bank reclin'd,
Beneath the open Canopy of Heav'n,
And troubled in his Breast with Woes of War,
Late Rest indulg'd. To Him the local God,
Old Tyberinus, from his pleasant Stream,
Among the Poplar Boughs, appear'd to rise:
Thin azure Linen o'er his Shoulders flew;

103

And shady Reeds entwin'd his hoary Head.
Then Thus he spoke, and Thus reliev'd his Cares.

O born of Race celestial, chos'n by Fate
To bring the Trojans from amidst the Foes
To Us restor'd, and eternize thy Troy;
O long expected by the Latian Realm;
Here is thy Mansion, here thy fix'd Abode.
Desist not Thou, nor fear the Threats of War:
The high swoln Anger of the Pow'rs Divine
Is all abated.
And now, for proof that no illusive Dream
Deceives thee with a visionary Scene,
Thou shalt beneath the Willows on the Shore
Find a white Sow, and round her Teats her Young
Of the same Colour, lying on the Ground;
Thirty in number: That shall be the Place
To build thy City; There thy certain Rest
From Labours. From That time, in thirty Years,
Alba, so call'd from hence, shall rise renown'd
Built by Ascanius. Certain are th'Events
Which I predict: At present (mark my Words)
How what th'immediate Stress of Things requires

104

Thou may'st accomplish, I'll in brief unfold.
Th'Arcadians, from the Blood of Pallas sprung,
To King Evander and his Banners join'd,
Have Here their Mansion chose, and on the Hills
Founded their City Pallentéum, nam'd
From ancient Pallas. These perpetual War
Wage with the Latins: Add Thou to thy own
Their Martial Bands, and ratify a League,
My self along the Banks, and River, strait
Will speed thy Course; that wafted thou may'st pass
With Oars the Stream adverse. Rise, Goddess-born,
With the first setting Stars make solemn Vows
To Juno, and by suppliant Pray'rs o'erpow'r
Her Rage and Threats; To Me, when Victor, pay
Due Honours: He I am, whom here thou see'st
Rolling between the Banks with plenteous Tide,
And cutting with my Train the fertil Glebe;
Cerulean Tyber; fav'rite Stream of Heav'n:
My stately Palace here, in future Times,
Empress of Tow'ring Citys shall arise.

105

The River spoke, and plung'd into his Flood:
Sleep leaves Æneas; and the Night retires.
Rising, he turns him to the rising Sun;
And from the River in his hollow Hands,
By solemn Rite accustom'd, Water takes,
And Thus prefers his Suit in open Air.
Ye Nymphs, Laurentian Nymphs, from whom the Birth
Of Rivers springs; and Thou, Supreme of Floods,
O Father Tyber, with thy sacred Stream;
Receive Æneas, and relieve his Toils.
Thou, who with Pity do'st regard our Woes;
In whate'er Soil thy beauteous Head is rais'd,
Where-e'er thy Source: For ever shall by Me
Thy Deity be honour'd, Horny God,
King of Hesperian Rivers. Only grant

106

To Us thy nearer Succour, I implore,
And ratify the Promise thou hast giv'n.

He said; And from his Fleet two Gallys chose;
New rigg'd them, and supply'd his Friends with Arms.
When to their Eyes a Prodigy appear'd
Wond'rous, and sudden; In the Wood a Sow
Of milk-white Colour, with her milk-white Young,
Together lying on the verdant Shore.
Them good Æneas to Thy Altar brings,
Great Queen of Gods, a Sacrifice to Thee.
All That Night long propitious Tyber calm'd
His swelling Stream, and refluent still'd his Waves,

107

Smooth as a standing Lake, or glassy Pond;
That no Obstruction might retard their Oars.
Therefore their destin'd Voyage they pursue,
With prosp'rous Omen: Down the River floats
The new-pitch'd Fir; The Woods and Waves admire
A Sight so unaccustom'd on the Tide,
The painted Vessels, and the shining Shields.
Lab'ring they ply their Steerage Night and Day;
And various Windings pass, thro' various Trees
Imbow'ring; and along the gentle Stream
Cut the reflected Groves, and verdant Shades.

Now in his full Meridian blaz'd the Sun:
When at a distance they beheld the Walls,

108

The Fort, and Tops of Houses thinly rang'd;
Which Now the Roman Pow'r has rais'd to Heav'n;
Evander Then possess'd the poor Domains.
They turn their Prows, and soon approach the Town.
It chanc'd that on That Day, th'Arcadian King,
Before the City, in a Grove's Recess,
To great Alcides, and the Gods, perform'd
A solemn Sacrifice: At which his Son
Pallas assisted, and the chosen Youth,
And wealthless Senate: Clouds of Incense rose,
And at the Altars smok'd the tepid Blood.
When the tall Ships among the shady Woods
Gliding they saw, with lab'ring, silent Oars;
Scar'd at the sudden Sight all leave the Boards:

109

Bold Pallas wills them not to interrupt
The sacred Feast; and, snatching up a Dart,
Himself flys obvious: On a rising Ground
Then speaks from far. Say, Strangers, for what Cause
Explore you Ways unknown? Or whither tends
Your Voyage here? Whence come you? From what Race
Deriv'd? And bring you hither Peace, or War?

Then good Æneas, from the lofty Deck
Waving the peaceful Olive in his Hand,
Replys: The Trojans you behold, and Arms
Hostile to Latium; Trojans thence expel'd
By impious War. Evander's Court we seek:
To Him this Message bear; To Him relate,
That chosen Chiefs are here arriv'd from Troy,
To ask his Friendship, and Confed'rate Arms.

Struck at so great a Name, young Pallas stood;
Approach, he cry'd, whoe'er Thou art; approach
My Father's Presence, and with him confer,
And to our hospitable Court proceed.
He said; embrac'd; and hung upon his Hand:
They leave the River, and ascend the Grove.
Then Thus the Trojan Chief with friendly Words
Bespeaks the King. O Best of Grecian Race,
Whom Fortune wills me to address with Pray'r,
Extending in my Hand the Olive-Branch
With Fillets wreath'd; To Me no Cause of Fear

110

Was your Extraction; tho' Arcadian born;
A Grecian Leader, and ally'd in Blood
To both th'Atridæ, You their Lineage share.
But me my Piety, and Heav'n's Commands,
Our Kindred Parents, and your Fame diffus'd
Thro' all the World, have urg'd by Fate's Decree,
Well pleas'd, to join Our Colony to Yours.
Troy's first great Founder, Dardanus, the Son
(So Greece relates it) of Electra, sprung
From Atlas, on the Trojan Coasts arriv'd.
Electra's Birth from mighty Atlas came,
Who on his Shoulder turns th'Ethereal Orbs.
Your Sire is Mercury; and Him conceiv'd
On cold Cyllene's Top fair Maia bore;
Maia, the Daughter (if we credit Fame)
Of the same Atlas, who sustains the Sky:
Thus from one common Stock both Stems divide.
Trusting to This, no Embassy I sent,
Nor at a distance artfully explor'd
Your Counsels; but my self expos'd, and came
In my own Person, suppliant to your Court.
The same fierce Daunian Race, which You alarms
With cruel War, if Us it can expel,
Thinks ev'ry Bar remov'd; and to it's Yoke
Hesperia all must bend, and all the Sea,
Which washes it on either side. Accept,
And give alternate Faith: We want not Strength,
Nor Courage firm, nor Youth well try'd in War.

He said; And, while he spoke, th'Arcadian King
Gaz'd stedfast on his Face, and Eyes; and all
From head to foot survey'd his Person o'er:

111

Then Thus in brief reply'd. With what Delight,
Bravest of Trojans, Thee do I receive,
And recognize! How recollect in Thee
The Visage and the Accent of thy Sire,
The great Anchises! For I well remember,
When Priam came to Salamin, where reign'd
Hesione his Sister, in his Way
He visited Arcadia's frozen Coasts.
The first gay Bloom of Youth then flush'd my Cheeks;
The Trojan Leaders I admir'd, admir'd
Priam Himself: But high above the rest
Anchises walk'd; With youthful Fire I burn'd,
Longing to greet That Prince, and join our Hands.
Him I accosted, and with fond Desire
To Pheneum's Walls conducted. Parting thence,
A costly Quiver fill'd with Lycian Shafts

112

He gave me, and a Cloak with Threads of Gold
All interwoven, and two Bridles rich
With bossy Gold; which still my Pallas keeps.
Therefore the plighted Faith you ask is giv'n:
And when to-morrow's Sun with rising Beams
The World illumines; I'll dismiss you safe
With my Assistance, and supply'd with Arms.
Mean-while, since here in Amity you come,
Join You, well pleas'd, to celebrate with Us
These annual Rites, which must not be defer'd;
And share ev'n Now the Banquet of your Friends.

This said, he strait commands them to replace
The Meat and Bowls remov'd; and seats his Guests
Along a Grassy Bed; above them all,
Invites Æneas to his Maple Throne,
Upon a Lion's shaggy Hide repos'd.
The chosen Youth, industrious, and the Priest
Bring roasted Flesh of Bulls, distribute Bread
In Baskets pil'd, and minister the Wine.
Æneas, and, with Him, the Trojan Youth
Feed on a solid Steer's perpetual Chine,
And hallow'd Entrails for Lustration fry'd.

Soon as the Rage of Hunger was appeas'd;
The King Evander spoke. These solemn Rites,

113

This Feast accustom'd, and This Altar rais'd,
Brave Trojan Guest, to so renown'd a God,
No Superstition, no ungrounded Fear,
Nor Ignorance of the ancient Pow'rs Divine
On Us impos'd: From direful Perils sav'd,
This Sacrifice, in Gratitude, we pay;
And Honours justly merited renew.
Here first behold That Cliff on craggy Piles

114

Suspended; How the Rubbish scatter'd lies;
Yon Cave stands empty in the Mountain's Side,
And all in Ruins hang the broken Rocks.
Here, in a vast Recess, withdrawn from Sight,
A Den there was impervious to the Sun,
Inhabited by Cacus, half a Beast,
Monster of hideous Aspect: Still the Ground
With recent Slaughter smok'd; and human Heads,
To his proud Portal fix'd, and smear'd with Gore,
Hung pale, and ghastly. Vulcan gave him Birth;
Expiring from his Mouth his Father's Flames,
With Bulk immense he stalk'd. At length the Course
Of Time revolving to our Wishes brought

115

The Presence, and the Succour of a God.
For when, from three-form'd Geryon slain, with Spoils
Victorious, to our Coasts Alcides came;
Hither the great Avenger drove his Herds
Of lofty Bulls, and Heifers; which possess'd
The Valley, and along the River graz'd.
The brutal Robber Cacus, mad in Guilt,
That nothing unattempted he might leave
Of Villany, or Fraud, four stately Steers
As many beauteous Heifers from their Stalls
Averts: And lest their Footsteps, in a Track
Direct imprinted, should reveal the Theft;
He drags them by their Tails into his Cave,
Forc'd backwards, with th'Impression of their Feet
Revers'd, and hides them in the gloomy Rock.
No Traces aid the Hero in his Search,
Or guide him to the Den: And now, prepar'd
To seek a Change of Pasture, from their Stalls
He moves his fodder'd Kine; The lowing Herds,
At their Departure, with complaining Noise
Fill all the Wood, and bellowing leave the Hills.
One of the Heifers in the Grot confin'd
Returns the Sound; and, from the spacious Cave
Loud roaring, disappoints the Felon's Hope.
Alcides' Gall with Vengeance burns; His Arms
He snatches, grasps his pond'rous knotty Oak,
And, running, gains th'aërial Mountain's Height.
Then first our Friends saw Cacus in his Eyes
Confessing Fear: He trembling, swift as Wind,
And wing'd with Terrour, to his Cavern speeds.
When, There inclos'd, he burst the Chains, and o'er

116

His Head let down the massy Rock, which hung
Fasten'd with Iron by his Father's Art,
And all the Entrance with strong Bars secur'd;
Lo! raging with Revenge, Tirynthius came,
Exploring ev'ry Passage round he gaz'd,
Gnashing his Teeth: Thrice, hot with boiling Ire,
All Aventinus' Mountain he survey'd;
Thrice at the rocky Portal tugg'd in vain;
And Thrice sate down to rest him in the Vale.
A sharp high Cliff there stood, on ev'ry side
Shatter'd, and rising o'er the Cavern's Back,
Apt for the Nests of dire ill-omen'd Birds:
This Ridge, as tow'rds the River, on the left,
It lean't inclining, He upon the right,
Lab'ring with mighty Vigour, push'd adverse,
And from the Roots uptore; and all at once
Impel'd it: With That Impulse Heav'n resounds,
The Banks leap backwards, and the frighted Stream
Retreats: The roomy Den, all Cacus' Court,
And darksom Caverns to the Sight appear;

117

As if the Earth, by some vast Force convuls'd,
Wide yawning should unlock th'infernal Realms,
Those pallid Regions, by the Gods abhorr'd,
Disclose the fathomless Abyss, and fright
The Manes with the rushing Glare of Day.
Him, now surpriz'd in unexpected Light,
Shut in his hollow Rock, and braying loud
With hideous Yell, Alcides from above
Presses with Darts, collecting all his Arms,
And with huge Trunks, and Mountains' Fragments plies.
The Wretch (for now no Hope of Flight remains)
Vomits a pitchy Vapour from his Throat,
(Wond'rous to tell!) involves the House in Clouds,

118

Blinding the Eyes; and tumbles thro' his Cave
Black smoky Night, and Darkness mix'd with Fire.
These Arts enrag'd Alcides could not bear;
But with a furious Leap into the Flames
Flings himself forward, where the wavy Smoke
Thro' the vast Den in blackest Volumes rolls.
Here Cacus belching useless Fires, in Clouds
Of Darkness, with close Grasp into a Knot
He cramps; scoops out his Eyes; and with dire Gripe
Throttles his Gullet, now undrench'd with Blood.
The Doors wrench'd open to the Sight disclose
The gloomy Mansion, and the Theft abjur'd,
And Cattle forc'd away; And by the Feet
The hideous Corps is dragg'd: With wond'ring Gaze
They view, insatiate, his half-brutal Form,
His dreadful Eyes, his Face, and shaggy Breast,
And in his smoking Jaws th'extinguish'd Fire.
Since That, due Honours to the God are paid;
And by Posterity with holy Mirth
This solemn Day observ'd: Potitius first,

119

And the Pinarian Family, which keeps
Deposited th'Herculean sacred Rites,
Here in the hallow'd Grove This Altar built;
Which great thro' Ages ever shall be call'd
By Us; And great thro' Ages it shall be.
Come on then, gallant Youths; and, to reward
Such mighty Merit, bind your Hair with Boughs;
Extend your Goblets in your Hands; invoke
Our common God; and cheerful crown the Wine.

This said; The double-colour'd Poplar veils
His Temples with Herculean Shade, and hangs
In twining Leaves; A consecrated Bowl
Fills his left Hand: All joyous on the Board
Pour the Libations, and invoke the Gods.
Mean-while the Ev'ning to the Sky convex
Rolls near: The Priests, Potitius at their Head,
Bear lighted Torches; and, begirt with Skins
Accustom'd, in Procession walk, restore
The Banquets, bring the Second grateful Cheer,
And with fill'd Chargers pile the sacred Hearths.
The Salii next, with Poplar Garlands wreath'd,
To tuneful Measures round the Altars dance,
A youthful This, as That an aged Quire.

120

These sing the Praises, and the God-like Deeds
Of Hercules: How first two monstrous Snakes,
His Step-dame's Vengeance, in his Hands he crush'd;
How Cities he demolish'd fam'd in War,
Troy, and Oechalia; how a thousand Toils,
Decreed by cruel Juno, he endur'd
Under the King Eurystheus: By Thy Hand,
Invincible, the Cloud-born Centaurs fell,
Huge Pholus, and Hylæus; By Thy Hand,
The Prodigy of Crete; And in his Cave
Nemea's vast Lion: Thee the Stygian Lake
Fled trembling; Thee th'infernal Mastiff, strecth'd
On Bones half eaten in his gory Den.
No Face of Peril e'er could shake Thy Soul,
Not ev'n Typhœus in Gigantic Arms:
Thee not deserted of Thy present Mind
The Snake at Lerna with his Croud of Heads
Surrounded. Hail! undoubted Son of Jove,

121

New Honour to the Gods! Be present here
Propitious, and Thy Sacrifice adorn.
Thus They in Songs: But chiefly Cacus' Den
They added, and Himself expiring Flames:
The Grove all rings, the echoing Hills resound.

The holy Feast now ended, All repair
Back to the City: Slow, beset with Age,
The King moves forward, grasping in his Hands
The Trojan Hero, and his youthful Son;
And with Variety of long Discourse
Deceives the Way. Æneas, wond'ring, throws
His nimble Eyes around; with vast Delight
The Places views; enquires, and hears explain'd
The ancient Monuments. Then Thus the King
Evandrus, Founder of the Roman Tow'r:
These Woods the native Nymphs, and Fauns possess'd,
And Men from Trunks of solid Oak disclos'd.
No Custom, These, nor Civil Culture knew,
Unskill'd to yoke the Steers, and hoard their Store
By Parsimony; nourish'd with the Food
Which savage Hunting, and the Trees supply'd.
First, exil'd from Olympus, Saturn came,
Flying his Kingdoms, and the Arms of Jove;
The untaught Race, on These high Hills dispers'd,
He first imbody'd, and compos'd with Laws;

122

And Latium rather chose to call the Land,
Because in Safety Here he lay conceal'd.
Under That King (as ancient Fame relates)
The Nation flourish'd in an Age of Gold;
So govern'd He the State in pleasing Peace.
At length an Age discolour'd, and corrupt,
The Love of Having, and the barb'rous Rage
Of War succeeded. Next th'Ausonian Bands,
And the Sicanian Colony arriv'd:
And Saturn's Realm has often chang'd it's Name.
Then Kings, and Tybris of Gigantick Size;
From whom th'Italian Stream was Tyber call'd;
And ancient Albula has lost it's Name.
Me, banish'd from my Native Soil, and forc'd
To tempt the utmost Perils of the Sea,
Almighty Fortune, and resistless Fate,
Phœbus my Guide, and She who gave me Birth,
The Nymph Carmenta, by their high Commands
Plac'd in This Seat, and fix'd my Mansion here.

He said; and, moving on, the Altar shew'd,
And the Carmental Gate, (a Roman Name)
The Honour, 'tis reported, of the Nymph
Carmenta, who Prophetick first foretold
The future Glory of th'Æneian Race,
And noble Pallantéum. Next he shews
The spacious Grove, where warlike Romulus
Th'Asylum fix'd; and underneath the Brow

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Of a bleak Cliff, the Place Lupercal nam'd,
Where by Arcadian Rites Lycæan Pan
Was worship'd. Hated Argiletum's Wood
He shews him next, attests the conscious Place,
Tells, and abjures the Guilt of Argus' Death.
Hence to the Capitol, Tarpeian Seat,
He leads, now rich with Gold, then rough with Thorns.
Ev'n Then the sacred Horrour of the Place
The trembling Rusticks aw'd; ev'n Then the Wood,

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And Rock with holy Rev'rence they survey'd.
This Grove, he said, This Hill with leafy Top
(What God 'tis doubtful, but) a God there is
Inhabiting: Th'Arcadians think that Jove
Himself they oft have seen, when Storms he rous'd,
And shook his dreadful Ægis from the Clouds.
These two, besides, These Towns with shatter'd Walls
The Monuments of ancient Kings you see;
This nam'd Janiculum, Saturnia That;
One by old Janus, one by Saturn rear'd.
With mutual Talk like This at length they came
To poor Evander's Court, and round them saw
O'er proud Carinæ's Street the Cattle graze,
And lowing in the Roman Forum stray.
When to the Seat they came, These Gates, he said,
Aleides enter'd; Him This Court receiv'd:
Dare to scorn Wealth, brave Guest; Presume thy self
Worthy to emulate a God; and come
Not supercilious to our little State.
He said; And underneath his homely Roof
Conducts the great Æneas, on spred Leaves,
And on a Libyan Bear's rough Hide repos'd.

125

Night hastes, and wraps the World with sable Wings:
When Venus, with no causeless Fears alarm'd
By threat'ning Latium, and new rising War,
Thus, in his golden Bed, to Vulcan speaks;

126

And with her Words inspires Celestial Love.
While with destructive War th'Argolick Kings
Wasted the Trojan Walls, and Tow'rs, decreed
To fall by hostile Fires; No Arms from You,
My dearest Lord, no Succour from your Art
For wretched Ilion did I Then desire;
Nor would have exercis'd your Skill in vain:
Tho' much I ow'd to Priam's Sons, and oft
With Tears bewail'd Æneas' hapless Toils.
Now, since on Latium's Coasts he is arriv'd
By Jove's Command; Suppliant to you I come,
The Mother for her Son, and sue for Arms;
And Thus implore your Deity, by me
So much rever'd. You yielded to the Tears
Of Nereus' Daughter, and Tithonus' Wife:
Behold what Nations from all Parts unite,
What Cities shut their Gates, and whet their Swords,
All leagu'd to conquer Me, and ruin Mine.

She said; And round him threw her snowy Arms,

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And warm'd him, wav'ring, with a soft Embrace:
He soon receives the wonted Flame, which flies
Swift thro' his Marrow, and his melting Bones;
As when in Thunder, lanc'd along the Sky,
A Streak of Fire runs streaming thro' the Clouds.
Pleas'd with her Wiles, and conscious of her Charms,
She silently perceives it; And involv'd
In Love's eternal Bond the God replies.
Why, Goddess, seek you Reasons from afar?
Or whither is your Confidence in Me
Withdrawn? Had Then your Purpose been the same;
Ev'n Then I might have arm'd the Trojan Chiefs:
Nor did th'Almighty Father, nor the Fates,

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Decree that Troy no longer should remain;
And Priam ten years more might have surviv'd.
And now if War you meditate, and such
Be your Design; Whatever by my Art
Can be perform'd, whatever can be cast
In Steel, in Silver, or in running Gold,
The utmost Pow'rs of Bellows, and of Fire,
I promise: Spare Intreaties; nor distrust
Your Int'rest in my Soul. This said; He gave
The wish'd Embrace, and sunk to pleasing Rest.

When, Night now sliding in her middle Course,
The first Repose was finish'd; When the Dame,
Who by her Distaff's slender Art subsists,
Wakes the spred Embers, and the sleeping Fire,

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Night adding to her Work; and calls her Maids
To their long Tasks, by lighted Tapers urg'd;
Thus spotless to preserve her Husband's Bed,
And educate her little prattling Babes:
From his soft Couch not less industrious rose
The fiery God, to ply his forging Toils.

Close by Sicania, and th'Æolian Coasts
Of Lipare, an Island rises high
With smoking Rocks; Beneath it thunder loud
Th'Ætnean Caverns, by the Cyclops' Forge
Shatter'd and torn: Here beaten Anvils sound
With pond'rous Hammers; Bars of hissing Steel
Roar in the hollow Mount; And Flakes of Fire
Burst thro' the rattling Tunnels: Vulcan's Seat,

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And from his Name the Land Vulcania call'd.
Hither the fiery God from Heav'n descends;
The Cyclops in their vast capacious Cave
Work'd the tormented Iron; Brontes huge,
And Steropes, and with his naked Limbs
Pyracmon. In their Hands before them glow'd
The unform'd Thunder; Bolts which Jove to Earth
Profusely hurls from all the Welkin round:
Part finish'd, part imperfect yet remain'd.
Three Forks of darted Hail, of watry Cloud

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Three more they added; Three of glaring Fire;
As many of the winged Southern Wind;
Then dreadful Flashes, and the roaring Noise,
And Rage, and Terrour, and avenging Flames.
Some in a diff'rent Quarter of the Grot
Labour'd the Chariot, and the rapid Wheels
Of Mars, with which vast Cities he alarms,
And rouses Heroes. Others carve in Gold,
With Scales of Serpents, angry Pallas' Shield,
The dreadful Ægis; and the twisted Snakes,

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And in the Goddess' Breast the Gorgon's Head,
Turning it's Eyes, and terrible in Death.

Then Vulcan Thus: Set all These things aside,
Ætnæan Cyclops; From your Work begun
Desist awhile, and hither bend your Thoughts.
Arms for a Hero must be made: Now all
Your Vigour is requir'd; Now all your Speed,
And masterly Invention: Break Delay.
He said no more: They all with eager Haste
Bend to the Labour; and their sev'ral Tasks
Divide: Brass flows in Rivers; Liquid Gold,
And wounding Steel, in the vast Furnace boils.
A mighty Shield they form, alone oppos'd
To all the Latian Darts; Sev'n Orbs involv'd,
Orb within Orb: In breathing Bellows Some
Receive, and render back th'included Air:
Others in Water tinge the sputt'ring Brass;
The Cave with batter'd Anvils groans around:
They with vast Strength in equal Measures raise
Their Arms; and turn the Mass with griping Tongs.

While in th'Æolian Coasts the Lemnian God

133

This Work precipitates; the cheerful Light,
And early chirping Birds, beneath his Roof,
Awake Evander in his humble Bed.
The Senior rises; with his homely Coat
His Body cloaths, and fastens to his Feet
The Tyrrhene Sandals; then th'Arcadian Sword
Girds to his Side, and Shoulders; on the left
A Panther's Hide retorts: Two trusty Dogs,
From the high Gate, attend their Master's Steps.
Strait to his Guest's retir'd Apartment goes
The Hero, not unmindful of his Word,
And promis'd Aid; Him no less early meets
Æneas: With the One young Pallas came,
Achates with the Other; Hands they join;
Then in the Middle of the Court they sit,
And freely now their former Talk resume.
Then first the King:
Brave Trojan Leader, while whose Life remains,
I never shall confess that Troy is fall'n;
Small are our Succours for so great a Cause:

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Here by the Tuscan Stream we are confin'd;
There the Rutulians press us, and with Arms
Clashing surround our Walls. Yet Nations great,
Pow'rful, and opulent, I now prepare
To join with Yours: This way to Safety leads,
By unexpected Fortune shewn; And call'd
By sure Decree of Fate you here arrive.
Not far from hence, Agylla's City stands,
Founded with aged Stone; Where heretofore
The Lydian Colony, in Wars renown'd,
Settled it's Mansion on th'Etrurian Hills.
This Nation, flourishing for many Years,
At length the King Mezentius, proud with Sway,
Possess'd, and govern'd by Tyrannick Arms.
Why should I name the Murders of his Reign
Unutterable? and his barb'rous Deeds?
Ye Gods, return them all on Him, and His.
Ev'n Living Bodies to the Dead he bound,
Composing Hands to Hands, and Mouths to Mouths,
(Species of Torture!) and with loath'd Embrace
Them, bath'd in Stench, and putrifying Gore,
By a slow, ling'ring Death, at length consum'd.
Quite weary'd out at last his People round
With Arms inclose his Court, and Him with Rage

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Enormous roaring; kill his Friends; and fire
His Palace. He amidst the Slaughter flies
To the Rutulian Confines, entertain'd
By Turnus, and defended by his Arms.
Therefore with just Revenge Etruria fir'd
All rises; and with present War demands
Her King, for Punishment. Thee, Trojan Prince,
Their Leader, to These Thousands I will join;
For thick o'er all the Shore their Vessels croud,
Impatient to behold the Banners wave.
Them with predicted Fates the aged Seer
Represses: Hear, Ye choice selected Youth
Of Lydia, You the Excellence, the Flow'r
Of ancient Heroes; whom against the Foe
Just Vengeance urges, and with honest Rage
Mezentius fires; 'Tis not by Fate allow'd
To any of Italian Race to quell
So great a Nation: Foreign Leaders chuse.
Then in These Fields th'Etrurian Bands encamp'd,
Aw'd by the Warnings of the Gods: To Me
Tarchon himself Ambassadours dispatch'd,
The Crown, the Sceptre, and Regalia sent;

136

Strait to their Tents implor'd me to repair,
And in the Tuscan Kingdom to succeed.
But Me the Impotence of freezing Age,
Unequal to the Labours of the Brave,
Envies new Empire: Him I would advise,
Pallas, my Son; but that his Mother, born
Of Sabine Blood, has mingled in his Veins
Part of This Country. Thou, Whose Age, and Race
By Fate are favour'd, whom the Gods demand,
Proceed to Empire, valiant Chief, at once
Chief of the Trojan and th'Italian Pow'rs.
Him too, the Hope, and Solace of my Age,
Pallas to Thee I join, that he may learn,
Under so great a Master to endure
The Toils and rigid Discipline of War;
Accustom'd to behold Thy God-like Deeds,
And taught t'admire Thee from his tender Years.
To Him two hundred Horse I give, the Flow'r
Of our Arcadian Youth: As many more
Pallas to Thee, in his own Name presents.

He scarce had spoke; Æneas, and his Friend,
Faithful Achates, fix'd in silence stood;
Much Grief revolving in their pensive Thoughts.
When Cytheréa in the open Air
A Signal gave; and suddenly from Heav'n
A darted Flash with Thunder came: All seem'd

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To tremble round them: And along the Sky
The Tyrrhene Trumpet's Clangor sounded loud.
Upwards they look; Again, again the Crash
With mighty Noise redoubles: Shining Arms
In a bright Region of the Sky serene
They see; and hear them rattling thro' the Clouds.
The rest amaz'd; Æneas knows the Sign,
And Promise, which his Goddess Mother gave:
Then Thus: Enquire not, Royal Host, what Fate
Is meant by These Presages, I by Heav'n
Am call'd: This Signal was to Me foretold
By my Celestial Parent, to be sent,
Should threat'ning War approach; and She her self
Promis'd to aid me with Vulcanian Arms
Brought thro' the Air.
What Deaths alas! What Slaughters are decreed

138

To wretched Latium! Turnus, for thy Crimes
To Me what bloody Forfeit shalt Thou pay!
How many Warriour-Bodies, Helms, and Shields
Shall in thy Torrent, Father Tyber, roll!
Let them demand a War, and break their Leagues.

He said; And from his lofty Seat arose:
And first upon th'Herculean Altar wakes
The sleeping Fires; and joyfully renews
The Sacrifice of Yesterday; the Lar,
And little Country-Gods invokes; and kills
Choice Sheep by Rite accustom'd: With him join
The King Evander, and the Trojan Youth.
Then to his Vessels, and his Friends he goes:
From whom the Chief in Valour he selects,
To follow him in War; The others, sent
T'inform Ascanius of his Father's State,
And Posture of Affairs, fall down the Stream,
And slowly on the gentle River glide.
Steeds to the Trojans, for the Tyrrhene Fields
Dispatch'd, are giv'n; But One, above the rest
Distinguish'd, to Æneas is assign'd,
All cover'd with a Lion's tawny Hide,
With golden Claws refulgent. Sudden Fame
Diffus'd thro' all the little City flies,
That to the Palace of the Tyrrhene King
A Band of Horse was marching swift in Arms:
With Fear the Matrons iterate their Vows;
Danger more imminent augments the Dread,
And greater now appears the Face of War.
Then old Evander, at their Parting, grasps
His Hand, and Thus, with endless Weeping, speaks.

139

O! would but Jove restore my former Years;
And make me what I was, when ev'n beneath
Præneste's Walls, I fell'd the foremost Rank,
And Victor burnt a Heap of Shields; and sent
With This Right hand King Herilus to Hell.
On Him, her Son, Feronia, at his Birth,
(Prodigious to relate!) three Lives bestow'd;
Three Suits of Arms he wielded; thrice by Death
He was to be subdu'd: Yet This Right hand

140

Depriv'd him, in That Field, of all his Lives,
And strip'd him of as many Suits of Arms.
Were I but Such; I should not now, my Son,
Be torn from thy Embraces; nor o'er Me
Insulting, should Mezentius, near my Coasts,
Have made such barb'rous Ravage with the Sword,
Nor rob'd the City of so many Lives.
But You, Ye Gods, and Thou, Almighty Jove,
Great Sov'reign of the Gods, commiserate
Th'Arcadian King, and hear a Father's Pray'r.
If Fate and You preserve my Pallas safe;
If Him I live to meet, and see restor'd:
Life I implore; With Pleasure I submit
To any Toils. But if some dire Mishap,
Fortune, by Thee is threaten'd: Now, O! now
Rid me of cruel Life; while yet my Cares
Are doubtful, and our future Lot unknown;
While Thee, dear Youth, my late, my only Joy,
I strain in this Embrace: That such harsh Tidings
May never wound my Ears. With Sobs and Groans
The aged Sire Thus breath'd his last Farewel:
The Servants bear him fainting to his Court.

And now forth issues from the open Gates
The Horse-Brigade: Æneas, and his Friend
Faithful Achates, in the foremost Rank;
In order next the other Lords of Troy.
Pallas himself advances in the Midst,
Conspicuous in his Cloak, and painted Arms:

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As when the Star by Venus most belov'd,
Bright Lucifer, just wash'd in Ocean's Waves,
Upraises in the Sky his sacred Head,
And dissipates the Shades. The trembling Dames
Stand on the Walls, and follow with their Eyes
The Cloud of Dust, and Troops with polish'd Brass
Refulgent. Thro' the Thickets they pursue
The nearest Way in Arms: A Shout is rais'd;
And, in a Body form'd, with sounding Hoofs
The sprightly Horses shake the mould'ring Soil.
Near the cool Stream of Cære stands a Grove,
By the Religion of the ancient Sires
Held venerable; spacious in Extent,
With hollow Hills, and gloomy Fir inclos'd.
The old Pelasgi, (so Tradition tells)
The first Possessors of the Latian Coasts,
This Grove devoted to the Rural God
Sylvanus, and a sacred Day assign'd.
Not far from hence the Tyrrhenes lay entrench'd
In a safe Post, with Tarchon at their Head:
And now the Legions from a Mountain's Height
Appear'd in View, encamp'd upon the Plains.
To these Æneas, and the Youth for War
Selected, join their Body; and fatigu'd
With Toil, their Horses, and Themselves repose.

But lovely Venus, thro' th'Ethereal Clouds

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Bearing her Present came: When She her Son
From the cool River at a distance saw,
And in a Vale retir'd; with easy Grace
Her self discov'ring, Thus the Goddess spoke.
Behold, my Son, the long-expected Gift,
Completed by my Consort's promis'd Art;
That Thou the proud Laurentians may'st defy,
And challenge daring Turnus to the Fight.
She said; embrac'd him, and beneath an Oak,
Full opposite, the radiant Armour laid.
Proud of such Honour, and the Gift Divine,
Round all the Work he rolls his wond'ring Eyes,
Insatiate; turns and poises in his Hands
The dreadful crested Helm, which vomits Flames;
The fatal Sword; the Corslet stiff with Brass,

143

Sanguine, immense; As when an azure Cloud
Glows, gilded by the Sun, and burns from far:
The polish'd Cuisses next, of Gold refin'd,
And ductile Silver; and the Spear; and last
Th'unutterable Texture of the Shield.

There, not unknowing in the Schemes of Fate,

144

And coming Times, the fiery God had form'd
The future Annals of th'Italian Realms,
And Roman Triumphs; all the Race deriv'd
From young Ascanius; and the Battles fought
In Order. In the mossy Cave of Mars
A female Wolf lay suckling; At her Teats

145

Two sporting Infants hung, and lick'd their Dam,
Intrepid: She her sleek round Neck reclin'd,
Smooth'd them by turns, and form'd them with her Tongue.
Next Rome he added, and the Sabines seiz'd
By Rape enormous, at the solemn Sports,
Within the spacious Cirque; Thence mighty War

146

Sudden betwixt the Romans, and the King
Old Tatius and his rigid Cures rose.
Then the same Chiefs (their bloody Feuds at length
Suspended) arm'd before Jove's Altar stood,
Each with a Charger in his Hand; A Sow
They sacrific'd, and ratify'd the League.
Not far from thence the rapid Chariots driv'n
Flew diverse, and the Traytor Metius tore;
(Thou, Alban, shouldst have kept thy plighted Faith:)
Him Tullus thro' the Woods rent piecemeal drag'd,
The sprinkled Brambles dropping with his Blood.
Porsenna next attempts to reinstate
Ejected Tarquin; and surrounds the Walls
With pressing Siege: In Liberty's Defence
Th'Æneadæ undaunted rush to Arms.

147

Him, in the Sculpture, with a storming Air,
And terribly indignant, you might see;
That Cocles had presum'd to burst the Bridge,
And Clelia freed from Bonds had swom the Stream.

High on Tarpeia's Tow'r brave Manlius stood,
Defender of the Temple; and possess'd
The lofty Capitol: Here rough appear'd
The Palace, recent with Romulean Straw;
And, in the golden Cloysters flutt'ring round,
A silver Goose betray'd th'approaching Gauls:
Th'approaching Gauls along the Thickets came;
And now had seiz'd the Fort, by gloomy Shades
Protected, and by favour of the Night.
With golden Hair they shine, with golden Vests,
And chequer'd Cloaks; Their milk-white Necks entwin'd
With Chains of Gold: Each brandish'd in his Hand
Two Alpine Jav'lins; with a Length of Shield

148

Their Bodys cover'd o'er. He added next
The dancing Salii; And with naked Limbs
The mad Luperci; And the Caps of Wool;
And Targets drop'd from Heav'n: The Matrons chaste
In downy Litters to the Temples rode,
And thro' the City bore the sacred Rites.
Distant from hence th'Infernal Realms he drew,
And Pluto's Court; the Tortures of the Damn'd;
Thee, Catiline, suspended on a Rock,
And trembling at the Furies: And the Bless'd
Apart; To These just Cato giving Laws.

149

Among the various Figures, rolling wide
Th'Effigies of the Ocean swells in Gold,
Whiten'd with curling Foam; And all around
The Dolphins, bright in Silver, lash the Brine

150

With their broad Tails, and wheeling cut the Waves.
Full in the Midst the brazen-beaky Ships,
And Actium's Battle rises to the View;
All mount Leucate hurry'd with the Rage,
And regular Confusion of the War;
And Billows radiant with the Gleam of Gold.
Here to the Fight Augustus Cæsar leads
His Romans; with the Fathers, and the State,
His Country Deitys, and mightier Gods;
On the tall Deck sublime: Whose Temples, fir'd
With lambent Glory, flash two Flames, and all
His Father's Star burns open'd on his Crest.
High on another Deck Agrippa heads

151

His Squadron, with auspicious Winds, and Gods;
His Temples shining with a beaky Crown,
The Recompence, and Pride of Naval War.
Antonius Victor, with Barbarian Aids,
And Arms promiscuous, from the redden'd Shore,
And Nations of the Morning, comes adverse;
Brings Ægypt with him, and the Eastern Force,
And distant Bactrians; and (reproachful Sight!)
His Shame attends him, his Ægyptian Wife.
All rush at once; And all the Ocean foams

152

Convuls'd with dashing Oars, and trident Beaks.
They hoise to Sea: The Cyclades uptorn
You would have thought were floating on the Deep;
Or lofty Hills encountring Hills: So huge
The Tow'ring Vessels, rigg'd and mann'd for War.
Fire-Balls of Tow, and missile Jav'lins fly;
The recent Gore discolours Neptune's Fields.
The Queen her Forces rallys in the Midst,
Shaking her Country Timbrel; nor as yet
Perceives her two attending Asps behind.
Anubis, barking Deity, and all
The Monster-Gods of ev'ry Kind advance,
'Gainst Neptune, Venus, and Minerva, rang'd.
Amidst the thickest Battle Mavors storms
In Iron Sculpture; And the Diræ sent
From Heav'n; And Discord, with her Mantle torn,
Marches exulting: With her bloody Scourge
Bellona follows arm'd. To see the War,
Actian Apollo hovers in the Clouds,
And bends his Bow: By Him with Terrour struck
All Ægypt's, India's, and Sabæa's Lines,
And all Arabia's turn their Backs in Flight.
The Queen her self, inviting all the Winds,
Swift hois'd her Sails, and loos'd the twisted Cords.

153

Her pale, amidst the Slaughter, at th'Approach
Of future Death, the fiery God had wrought,
Wafted by Eastern Breezes down the Tide:
Full opposite great Nilus mourning rolls
His Fluent, into his cerulean Lap
Invites the vanquish'd Troops, and opens all
His wavy Garment to receive their Flight.
But Cæsar, riding to the Walls of Rome
With triple Triumph, to th'Italian Gods
Devotes three hundred stately Temples, Vow
Immortal: With rejoicing Shouts, and Sports,
And festival Applause the Streets resound:
In all the Temples Quires of Matrons croud;
Altars in All erected; On the Ground
Before Those Altars slaughter'd Oxen fall.
Himself, high seated in the marble Porch
Of Phœbus' Dome, reviews the People's Gifts,
And fits them fasten'd to the lofty Doors.
The conquer'd, Nations in long Order go,
Various in Language, as in Garb, and Arms.
There Mulciber the Nomades had drawn,
The Libyans loosely clad, the Lelages,
The Cares, and Geloni arm'd with Darts;
Euphrates drawing now a gentler Train;

154

Th'extremest Morini, the two-horn'd Rhine;
The untam'd Dahæ, and Araxes' Stream
Indignant with a Bridge to be confin'd.

Such Figures on the broad Vulcanian Shield,
His Mother's Gift, the Hero pleas'd admires
In Ignorance; And on his Shoulder high
Upheaves the Fame, and Fortune of his Race.

The End of the Eighth Book.

155

BOOK the Ninth.

157

While Schemes like These in distant Parts are form'd;
Saturnian Juno Iris sends from Heav'n
To daring Turnus: In the sacred Vale,
And Grove of old Pilumnus, then by chance
The Hero sate: To Him Thaumantias spoke,
And from her rosy Mouth These Accents fell.

Turnus, What None of all the Gods could dare
To promise to thy Wishes, see, the Course
Of rolling Time spontaneous has bestow'd.
Æneas, from his Town, and Friends, and Fleet,
Absent, to Palatine Evander's Realms
Is now repair'd; and not content with That
To Coritus' most distant Towns has pierc'd,
And arms the Lydian Rusticks for the War.

158

On What demur thy Thoughts? 'Tis now the Time
To mount thy Steeds, and Chariot: Break Delay,
And swift surprize their unprovided Camp.

This said, on even Wings uprais'd she flew,
And cut her spacious Arch beneath the Clouds.
The Youth soon knew her, lifted to the Stars
His Hands, and with These Words pursu'd her Flight.
Iris, the Pride of Heav'n; Who sent Thee down
To Earth, and Me? From whence This sudden Light
Diffus'd? I see the op'ning Sky divide,
And the Stars straggling round the Pole: Portents
So wond'rous I obey; whoe'er Thou art
Who summon'st me to Arms. This said, he skims
Pure Water from the Surface of the Stream;
Invokes the Gods, and loads the Sky with Vows.

Now all the Army march'd upon the Plain,
Rich in proud Steeds, in broider'd Vests, and Gold.
Messapus leads the Van, the Rear the Sons
Of Tyrrheus; In the Centre Turnus moves,
Chief, by the Head entire above them all,

159

And tow'rs in Arms. Slow, without Noise they march:
As, by sev'n Rivers swell'd, in silence flows
Ganges profound; or with his fruitful Stream
Nilus, when, ebbing from the Fields, he draws
His Train, and in his Chanel glides confin'd.

The Trojans here a sudden Cloud of Dust
Discern, and Darkness rising o'er the Field.
First from the Mound adverse Caïcus cries;
What Globe, Ye Citizens, is yonder roll'd,
Black'ning in Air? Stand to your Arms, Dispatch,
Quick, draw your Weapons, and the Ramparts crown;
The Foe approaches: Haste. With Clamour loud
The Trojans shut their Gates, and fill the Walls:
For so Æneas, most expert in Arms,
Parting, had giv'n Command, that in the Fight

160

(If any Fortune should mean-while present)
They should not dare, nor trust the open Field;
But man their Trenches, and defend the Camp.
Therefore tho' Shame and Indignation fire
Their Souls to Battle; mindful they obey
His Orders, to the War their Gates oppose,
And in their Turrets arm'd expect the Foe.
Before his tardy Squadron Turnus flies,
With twenty chosen Horse; and to the Town
Sudden approach'd: Whom with white Spots distinct
A Thracian Courser bore; with crimson Plumes
A golden Helmet glitt'ring round his Head.
What Youth, he cry'd, with Me will first advance
Against the Foe? See there: Then hurls a Dart
Into the Sky, the Prelude of the War;
And spurs with stately Port along the Field.
With terrible Acclaim his Men concur,
And shouting follow. The degen'rate Souls
Of the dull dastard Trojans they admire;
Admire that None should dare to trust the Plain
In equal Fight, nor obvious rush in Arms,
But all within their Trenches lurk confin'd.

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He, turbulent in Ire, surveys the Walls,
This way, and That, and on his lofty Steed
The Passes inaccessible explores.
So raves the prouling Wolf around the Cotts,
Insidious to invade the crouded Fold,
At Midnight, passive from the Winds and Rain:
The tender Younglings bleat beneath their Dams
In safety: He, malicious in his Rage,
Gnashes his Teeth against the distant Prey;
Hunger, long since contracted, goads him on,
And Jaws undrench'd with Gore. Not less incens'd
(His Blood with Indignation boiling high)
The fierce Rutulian storms, as he beholds
The guarded Walls, and Bulwarks of his Foes;
Doubtful which Post to try, and how to draw

162

The Trojans from their Trenches to the Field.
Their Fleet, which near the Fortress cover'd lay,
Fenc'd by their Ramparts, and the River's Stream,
He strait invades; excites his shouting Troops
With Fire to fill their Hands; and waves, himself,
A flaming Pine. By Turnus' Presence urg'd
They ply the Work industrious; All the Youth
Rifle the Hearths, and arm themselves with Brands:
The smouldring Torches throw the pitchy Light
Aloft, and Vulcan sparkles to the Stars.
What God, Ye Muses, from the Trojan Ships
Averted such a fiery Tempest? Say;
Ancient the Fact, but constant is the Fame.

163

On Phrygian Ida when Æneas built
His Navy, and prepar'd to stem the Deep;
Thus Berecynthia, Mother of the Gods,
To mighty Jove, 'tis said, her Suit address'd.
Grant me, my Son, what thy lov'd Parent asks

165

Of Thee, succeeding to the Throne of Heav'n.
A Piny Wood for many Years there grew
On the high Mountain's Top, my Fav'rite Grove,

166

(To which my Votaries their Off'rings brought)
Obscure with gloomy Fir, and Maple Boughs.
This Timber to th'illustrious Youth of Troy,
When indigent of Ships, I gladly gave.
Now a new Fear disturbs my anxious Thoughts;
Heal thou That Fear; and let thy Mother prove
So potent by her Pray'rs, that to no Length
Of Voyage, to no Tempest they may yield:
Let it avail them, that they once were Mine.

To whom her Son, who whirls the Starry Spheres:
O Mother, which way would you turn the Fates?
Or what would you request? Shall Vessels, built
By mortal Hands, immortal Rights enjoy?
And shall Æneas certain pass thro' Toils
Uncertain? To what God is giv'n such Pow'r?
Yet when; Those Toils exhausted, they shall reach
Their destin'd Limits, and th'Ausonian Ports:
In All, which shall escape the Waves, and bring
The Trojan Leader to Laurentum's Fields,
In Tract of rolling Time, their mortal Form
I will destroy, and give them to be Nymphs
Of the wide Deep; as Doto, Nereus-born,
And Galatea cut the foaming Sea.
He said; and by his Stygian Brother's Banks,

167

And pitchy Torrent, ratify'd the Fate;
And all Olympus trembled at his Nod.

And now the promis'd Time was fully come,
Ripen'd by Destiny; when, by the Force
Which Turnus threaten'd, the Celestial Dame
Was warn'd to save the sacred Ships from Fire.
Here to their Eyes a sudden Stream of Light
Wond'rous appear'd; and darted from the East
A shining Tempest shot along the Sky:
Th'Idæan Quire was heard; and thro' the Air
An awful Voice fill'd either Host with Dread.
Haste not, Ye Trojans, to defend my Ships;
Nor arm your Hands: The Ocean shall be burnt
By Turnus, sooner than These hallow'd Pines.
Go You, Ye Goddesses, into the Sea,
Go free: The Mother of the Gods commands.
Forthwith each Vessel, from it's Cable loos'd,
Plunges into the Deep; and with it's Beak
Dives like a Dolphin, underneath the Waves.
Instead of Them (prodigious to relate!)
So many Virgin Forms appear, and glide
Upon the Sea, as just before there stood
Tall Ships with brazen Prows along the Beach.
The Rutuli in Wonder stand aghast;
Messapus' self affrighted scarce restrains
His startled Steeds; old Tyber stops his Course,
And refluent from the Ocean hoarsely roars.

Yet nought bold Turnus of his Fire abates;
But Thus encourages, and chides his Friends.

168

Against the Trojans These Portents are aim'd:
Great Jove himself of their accustom'd Aid
Deprives them Thus; nor do their Ships expect
Th'Ausonian Arms, and Fires. The Ocean then
To Them impervious leaves no Hope of Flight;
The Globe's One Half is lost: The Land is Ours;
So many Thousands of th'Italian States
Engage in Arms. Me nought the Fates affright,
Whate'er they be, of which the Phrygians boast;
Enough to Venus and the Fates is giv'n;
Since, landing on Ausonia's fertil Shores,
The Trojans are arriv'd. My Fates oppos'd
I too can shew; which grant me to destroy
With wasteful War the Sacrilegious Race,
And right my self defrauded of my Bride.
Nor do the Greeks alone resent such Wrongs;
Nor are Mycenæ's Kings the only Chiefs,
Who, to revenge such Insults, rush to Arms.
But 'twas enough, perhaps, that once they fell:

169

And once too was enough to make them hate
The Female Kind, and Thus offend no more.
Did These, who in their Trenches now confide,
Slight thin Partitions 'twixt themselves and Death;
Did These not see the Walls of mighty Troy,
Tho' built by Neptune, tumble in the Flames?
But who, Ye chosen Youth, who scales with Me
Their Bulwarks, and invades their trembling Camp?
Against the Trojans no Vulcanian Arms,
Nor twice five hundred Ships do I require.
Let all Etruria join her Bands ally'd:
Nocturnal coward Thefts they need not fear;
Their fam'd Palladium we shall not purloin,
Killing the Guards, who watch the lofty Tow'r;
Nor in the Steed's dark Belly lurk conceal'd.

170

In open Light of Day, it is resolv'd,
We will appear, and wrap their Walls in Flames:
Soon shall they see, my Promise I engage,
They have not here to deal with Grecian Foes,
Whom Hector to the Tenth Year kept at Bay.
For what remains; since rolling to the West
The Day declines, and Conquest is in View;
With joyous Cheer, Ye warlike Youth, indulge
Your Genius, and expect the promis'd Fight.

Mean-while the Charge is to Messapus giv'n
With Scouts and Sentries to beset their Gates,
And all with Fires inclose their Trenches round.
Twice sev'n Rutulians to observe their Walls
Are chosen; Each of Them an hundred Youths
With purple Plumes, and broider'd Vests, attend.
Alternate they patrole, by turns relieve
Each other's Posts; and stretch'd along the Grass
Indulge the Wine, and toss the brazen Jars.
Their Fires shine round: The Watch in Sports protract
The sleepless Night.
All This the Trojans from their lofty Mounds
Trembling behold, and man their Works in Arms;
With anxious Fear the guarded Gates explore,
And join the Battlements with Bridges laid.

171

Mnestheus, and brave Serestus urge the Toil;
To whom the Prince Æneas had assign'd
The chief Direction of Affairs, if aught
Adverse should chance: Each Legion on the Walls,
Sharing th'allotted Danger, mounts the Watch
Alternate, and it's proper Post defends.

To guard the Gate brave Nisus stood in Arms,

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Nisus Hyrtacides; whom Ida, fam'd
For Hunting, sent into Æneas' Train,
Skill'd in the Jav'lin, and the feather'd Shafts:
And by his Side, Euryalus; than whom
Was none more beauteous, clad in Trojan Arms:

173

The first soft Down of Youth had just begun
To bloom upon his Cheeks: One was their Love;
Together They engag'd in War; and now
Both in one common Post, as Sentries, stood.

Then Nisus; Do the Gods, my Friend, infuse
This Ardour of the Soul? Or make we Gods

176

Of our own strong Desires? My Mind, long since
Eager of Action, prompts me to engage
Or in the Fight, or in some great Attempt;
Nor This dull Rest endures. What Confidence
Possesses the Rutulian Camp, thou seest.
Thin burn their Fires: Dissolv'd in Sleep and Wine
They lie; and all around dead Silence reigns.
Now learn what Thoughts, what Purpose I revolve,
Dubious of Mind. The Fathers, and the State
Long to recall Æneas, and dispatch
Sure Messengers, who Tidings may convey.
If (for to Me the Glory of the Deed
Is ample Recompence) to Thee they grant
What I demand; methinks, beneath That Hill
I mark the Way to Pallantéum's Walls.

Struck with Surprize, and fir'd with Thirst of Fame,
Thus sudden to his ardent Friend reply'd

177

Euryalus. And would'st thou then refuse
To add Me, Nisus, to the brave Design?
And shall I suffer Thee to go expos'd
To such a perilous Attempt alone?
Not so my Sire Opheltes, bred in War,
Amidst the Terrour of the Grecian Arms,
And the long Labours of unhappy Troy,
Instructed me: Nor so have I behav'd
In Partnership with Thee; since I adher'd
To brave Æneas, and th'Extremes of Fate.
Here too, Here dwells a Soul, that with Contempt
Regards This vital Air; and thinks with Life
That Fame well bought, to which Thy Soul aspires.

Nisus to This; No such injurious Thought
Of Thee; no such Suspicion, in my Breast
Was ever harbour'd: No; as This is Truth,
So may great Jove, or whate'er God regards
These things with equal Eyes, restore me crown'd
With Conquest to thy Arms. But if some Chance
(As many in such hazardous Attempts
Thou seest) if any Chance, or Pow'r Divine
Snatch Me from Earth; Thee I would leave behind:
Thy Age can shew a better Claim to Life.
Let there survive, who may with solemn Rites
Inurn my Body, rescu'd from the Foe
In Battle, or redeem by Ransom paid;
Or (That if Fate forbid) an empty Tomb

178

May build, and grace my Manes with a Grave.
Nor to thy wretched Mother let me cause
So great a Grief; thy Mother, who, alone
Of all the Trojan Dames, for Thee, Dear Youth,
Follows our Camp, nor loves Acestes' Walls.

Then He; Thy empty Reasons urg'd in vain
Thou dost alledge; nor is my Purpose chang'd:
Haste we, he said. Then wakes the Sentries; They
Succeed, and mount the Guard: The friendly Pair,
Quitting their Station, seek the Gen'ral's Tent.

All other Creatures, o'er the Earth repos'd,
Relax their Cares, and lose the Toils of Day;
The Trojan Leaders, and the chosen Youth
Upon th'important Bus'ness of the State
A Council held; what Measures they should take,
Who to Æneas should be sent dispatch'd.
On their long Spears they lean, and gripe their Shields,
In the mid Camp. Then Nisus, and with Him
Euryalus, with eager Speed demand
Admittance; urging an Affair of Weight,
And worthy their Delay. Iülus first
Receives them panting, and bids Nisus speak.

Then Thus Hyrtacides: Ye Trojans, hear
With equal Minds; nor let the bold Attempt
Propos'd be estimated from our Years.
The Rutuli, immers'd in Sleep and Wine,

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All silent lie: A Place we have observ'd
Fit for our Purpose, where the Way divides
Before the Gate which opens to the Sea.
Their Fires by fits burn faint; and to the Stars
Black Smoke ascends: Permit us but to take
Th'Advantage; and you soon shall see return'd
Your wish'd Æneas from Pallantium's Walls,
With Spoils, and mighty Slaughter of the Foe.
Nor are we uninstructed in the Way:
For, hunting near the Coasts, we oft have seen
The City's Confines in the Vales obscure,
And all the Windings of the River know.

Alethes then, in Wisdom and in Years
Mature, reply'd. Ye Tutelary Gods,
Whose fav'ring Pow'r protects the State of Troy;
As yet to Ruin you devote not all
The Trojan Race; since still such gallant Youths,
Such firm intrepid Spirits you preserve.
So saying, with a tender strict Embrace
He strain'd them Both, and hung upon their Hands;
And drown'd his Visage with o'erflowing Tears.
What due Rewards, brave Youths, shall I presume
Proportion'd to so daring a Design?
The Chief the Gods, and your own Native Worth,
The Rest ev'n Now shall good Æneas give,
And young Ascanius, when Mature of Age,

180

For ever mindful of Desert like Yours.

And I, whose only Happiness depends
Upon my much-lov'd Father's wish'd Return,
Reply'd Ascanius, by our mighty Gods,
Nisus, to You I swear, by Vesta's Shrine,
And by the Trojan Lares; all my Hope
And Fortune in your Bosoms I repose:
Recall my Father, bring him to my Arms;
All Sorrow vanishes at his Return:
Two Goblets I will give, in Silver wrought,
And rough with Sculpture; which my Father took
From sack'd Arisba; And two Talents Weight
Of massy Gold; two Tripods; And a Bowl
Of antique Cast, which Tyrian Dido gave.
But if 'tis giv'n us in the Chance of War
To conquer Latium, and it's Sceptre wield,
Victorious, and by Lot to share the Spoils;
Saw'st thou the Steed which Turnus press'd, the Arms
In which he rode, all glitt'ring, all in Gold?
That very Shield, and Those red Plumes which grace
His Helmet, from the Lot I will exempt,
Already, Nisus, Thy adjudg'd Reward.
Besides, twelve choicest Dames, twelve Captive Youths,
With their own Arms, my Father shall bestow;

181

And, added to them all, That Tract of Land,
Which by the King Latinus is possess'd.
But Thou, whose Age by Mine with nearer Steps
Is follow'd, Thee, Thou venerable Youth,
Thee into all my Bosom I receive;
And clasp Thee close, the Partner of my Soul
In all Events; Without Thee no Renown,
No Glory will I seek in. Peace, or War:
In Thee my greatest Trust of Deeds and Words
I will repose. He said; and Thus reply'd
Euryalus: From brave Attempts like These
No Time shall argue me degen'rate prov'd;
Let Fortune but be kind. Yet more than all
Rewards, and Prizes, one thing I implore:
I have a Mother, from the ancient Race
Of Priam sprung; whose Fondness for her Son
Urg'd her, unhappy, thro' the Toils of War,
To follow me: Nor could the Ilian Coast
Detain her, nor the King Acestes' Walls.
Her, ignorant of whate'er Fate impends,
Unbless'd, and unsaluting, I forsake:
This Night, and thy Right hand I here attest,
I cannot bear my Wretched Parent's Tears.
But Thou, I beg, console her helpless Age,
And aid her desolate: Thus much of Thee
Grant me to hope; More daring I shall go
To all Events. Struck with the moving Sounds
The Trojans melt in Tears; Above the rest
Beauteous Iülus: And the Image soft

182

Of filial Piety glides o'er his Mind.
Then Thus:
All things I promise, which thy great Design
So justly claims: My Mother She shall be;
And nothing of Creüsa, but the Name,
Be wanting: And whatever Chance betides
This Enterprize; Not small shall be esteem'd
Her Merit to have born so brave a Son.
Here by This Head I swear, (an Oath which first
My Father us'd) Whatever I engage
To Thee returning, and with Conquest crown'd,
The Same shall to thy Mother, and the Race
Ally'd to Thee inviolate remain.

Weeping he spoke; and drawing from his Belt
His gilded Sword, which wrought with wond'rous Art
Lycaon, born of Gnossian Race, had made,
And in an Iv'ry Scabbard fit inclos'd,
That Present on the lovely Youth bestows.
Mnestheus a Lion's horrid Reliques gives
To Nisus; good Alethes changes Shields.
Now arm'd They march; Whom parting, to the Gates,
The aged Sires, and all the youthful Band

183

Of the first Rank, with ardent Pray'rs, and Vows,
Crouding attend: Nor less the beauteous Prince,
In Care and Counsel wise beyond his Years,
Various Dispatches to his Father sends,
And loads them with Instructions: But the Winds
Disperse them all, and give them to the Clouds.

They pass the Trenches; and thro' Shades of Night
Strait to the hostile Camp direct their Way;
Yet fatal first to Many. On the Grass
They see them stretch'd in Sleep, and drench'd in Wine;

184

Their Chariots on the Shore erect; The Men
Betwixt the Wheels and Harness; Arms and Wine
Promiscuous. To his Friend Thus Nisus speaks:
Euryalus, 'tis now the Time to dare;
Here lies our Way; Be Thou upon the Watch,
Lest any Foe assault us from behind:
Thro' These I'll hew thee out a Passage wide.
He said; repress'd his Voice; and with his Sword
On haughty Rhamnes drove; as then by chance
Bolster'd aloft on Tapestry he lay,
And snoring puff'd the Sleep from all his Breast;
Himself a King, and by King Turnus lov'd,
A skilful Augur: But his Augury
That Pest could not avert. Three Servants next

185

Of Rhemus, as among the Arms they lay
Mingled; he stabs; his Squire, and Charioteer,
Beneath the Horses Feet; and with his Steel
Divides their hanging Necks in Sleep reclin'd.
Then from their Master's self his Head he hews,
And leaves the welt'ring Trunk; The Earth and Beds
Reek with black tepid Gore: Next Lamyrus,
And Lamus; and Serranus, hapless Youth
Of beauteous Form, who much That Night had play'd,
And with large Portion of the jolly God
Lay steep'd, o'erpow'r'd: Well for him had it been,
Had his long Play continu'd 'till the Morn.
So foams the Lion thro' the crouded Folds,
By furious Hunger pinch'd; and rends, and drags
The tender Cattle, mute with Fear; and raves
With bloody Mouth. Nor less Euryalus
Distributes Death, nor rages less incens'd:
Much nameless Vulgar in the Midst invades,

186

Fadus, and Hebesus, and Rhætus kills,
And Abaris: The rest in Sleep secure;
But Rhætus, waking, and beholding all,
Behind a spacious Cistern skulk'd for Fear:
Full, as he rose, he bury'd all the Sword
Deep in his Breast; and with abundant Death
Receiv'd him: He with gushing Wine and Gore
Vomits his purple Soul; and dying pours
A blended Flood. Euryalus still burns
With vengeful Rage, and silent presses on.
Now near Messapus' Quarters he arriv'd;
Where the last Fires scarce twinkling he beheld,

187

And Horses ty'd, and grazing: When in brief
Thus Nisus; (for he saw the Youth too far
By Love of Slaughter hurry'd:) Cease we now;
The Dawn, unfriendly to These Thefts, appears:
Enough of Blood is spilt; and thro' the Foes
A Passage made. Much massy Plate they leave,
Rich Tapestry, carv'd Bowls, and polish'd Arms.
Yet would Euryalus the studded Belt,
And wrought Caparisons of Rhamnes seise;
Which to Tiburtian Remulus of old
The wealthy Cædicus in Absence sent,
Pledges of Hospitality and Love:
Them to his Grandson dying he bequeath'd;
After his Death, the Rutuli in War
Had won them: These Euryalus now wears,
And to his manly Shoulders fits in vain:
Messapus' plumy Helmet then he takes;
They leave the Tents, and seek the safer Field.

Meanwhile dispatch'd from King Latinus' Walls
(The slower Foot attending on the Plain)
Three hundred Horse, all shielded, Volscens Chief,
March'd, and sure Tidings to Prince Turnus bore.
They now approach'd the Camp, and near the Trench
Arriv'd: When making to the left they spy'd
The friendly Pair; and in the Moon's pale Light

188

The glimm'ring Helm betray'd Euryalus
Unmindful, and with Rays reflected shone.
Not seen in vain, cry'd Volscens, from the Troop;
Stand there; Who are you? Whither Thus in Arms
Bend you your Course? No Answer they return,
But scud into the Woods, and trust to Night.
The Horsemen to the Ways which well they know,
Crossing the various Roads, themselves oppose;
And all with Guards beset the Passes round.
A Grove there was, with Shrubs and gloomy Oak
Horrid, and all with Brambles thick o'ergrown;
Thro' which few narrow Paths obscurely led.

189

Euryalus, incumber'd with his Spoils,
And heavy Arms, embarass'd with the Fear
Of erring from the Way, among the Boughs,
In Darkness, lost, and hamper'd, lags behind.
Nisus, uncautious, had escap'd the Foe,
And pass'd Those Fields, which since from Alba's Walls
Are Alban nam'd; For King Latinus' Steeds
High Stables then there stood. When first he stop'd,
Look'd back in vain, and miss'd his absent Friend;
Ah! where Euryalus, unhappy Youth,
Where have I left thee? Whither shall I turn?
Again the Wood's fallacious Maze perplex'd
He back revolves, his former Steps retrac'd
Observes, and o'er the silent Thicket roves.
He hears the Noises of Pursuers, hears
The neighing Horses, and their trampling Feet.
Not long he stood; When strait a Clamour loud
Invades his Ears: Amidst the Throng of Foes

190

Euryalus he sees, surpriz'd in Night,
And Errours of the Way; by sudden Force
Oppress'd, and making various Efforts vain.
What should he do? By what Assault, what Arms
Attempt his Rescue? Should he fling himself,
Certain to die, among their thickest Ranks,
And meet the glorious Death? With Arm drawn back
He pois'd a Spear; and, casting on the Moon
A mournful Look, Thus suppliant breath'd his Pray'r.
Pride of the Stars, and Guardian of the Woods,
Thou, Goddess, Thou Latonia, aid my Toil:
If e'er my Father Hyrtacus for Me
With Off'rings grac'd thy Altars; If my self
Have e'er increas'd them with my sylvan Spoils,
Hung them aloft, and to Thy sacred Roofs
Affix'd Those Trophys; Give me to disperse
This Band, and guide my Jav'lins thro' the Air.

He said; And hurl'd with all his Body's Force
The Spear; which flying beats the Shades of Night;
Fixes in Sulmo's Back averse; and there
The Wood breaks short; the pointed Steel divides
His Lungs, and whizzing passes thro' his Breast.

191

Shiv'ring he totters, from his Bosom pours
A reeking Flood, and with long Sobs distends
His heaving Entrails. They aghast look round;
He, by Success more animated, aims
Another Jav'lin level'd from his Ear:

192

While They in Doubt stand trembling; thro' the Skull
Of Tagus swift the hissing Weapon flew,
And warm, and deep, lay bury'd in his Brain.
Volscens impatient foams, and burns with Rage;
Nor sees the Author of their Deaths, nor finds
On whom to wreak his Vengeance. Yet Thy Blood,
He cry'd, shall pay the Forfeit due for Both;
And, with his Sword unsheath'd, advanc'd direct
Against Euryalus. Then Nisus, wild
With Terrour, and Amaze, crys out aloud;
Nor longer in the Covert of the Grove
Could hide himself, nor such a Sight endure.
Me, Me; I did it; On Me turn your Steel,
Ye Rutuli; 'Twas all My Fraud: He nought
Nor could, nor durst; This Heav'n, and conscious Stars
I call to Witness: All his Crime, poor Youth,
Was loving his unhappy Friend too well.
Thus far he spoke; But driv'n with forceful Swing
The Sword had pierc'd Euryalus, and bor'd
His snowy Breast: He stagg'ring rolls in Death;
The trickling Blood runs down his beauteous Limbs;
And on his Shoulder lies his Neck reclin'd.
So languishes, and dies a purple Flow'r,
Cut by the pointed Share: So Poppies droop,
O'ercharg'd with Rain, and hang their sickly Heads.
Then Nisus, rushing, darts into the Midst;
Volscens alone he seeks, at Volscens drives:
The pressing Foes throng round, and bear him back
With tilted Spears: He not the less springs on,

193

And whirls his flashing Sword; 'till in the Mouth,
Full opposite, of Volscens clam'ring loud
He plung'd it deep, and dying stab'd his Foe:
Then on his breathless Friend his Body flung,
And there at last in pleasing Death repos'd.
Thrice happy Both! If aught my Verse can do;
No Time shall blot you from the Lists of Fame:
While in the lofty Capitol, unmov'd
Like it's own Rock, th'Æneian Race shall reign;
And Rome possess the Empire of the World.

The Rutuli, with mighty Conquest proud,
And deck'd with Trophies, weeping to the Camp
Dead Volscens bear: Nor in the Camp was less
Of Grief; when Rhamnes pale in Death they found,
And Numa, and Serranus, all at once
So many Leaders slain: In Crouds they throng
About the Bodys welt'ring in their Blood,
The recent Slaughter, and the reeking Ground,
And Rivers frothing with a Tide of Gore.

194

The Spoils among themselves full well they know,
Messapus' glitt'ring Helmet, and the rich
Caparisons with so much Toil regain'd.

Aurora, from Tithonus' saffron Bed
Now rising, sprinkled-o'er the World with Light;
The Sun diffus'd, all Nature stands reveal'd:
Turnus excites the Soldiery to Arms,
Himself in Arms: All marshal for the Fight
Their brazen Squadrons; and with various Talk,
Exasperated, whet each other's Rage.
Then (ghastly to behold!) the gory Heads
Of Nisus and Euryalus they fix
On Spears aloft; and follow, with a Shout
Rending the Air.
The hardy Trojans on the left-hand Walls
(The River guards the Right) oppose their War,
Within their roomy Trenches range their Line,
And pensive on the high-built Turrets stand.
They see the Faces, which too well they know,
Dropping black Blood, and all deform'd with Death.

195

Meanwhile the fatal Tidings, blaz'd by Fame,
Flying thro' all the City struck with Dread,
The Mother of Euryalus alarms:
A sudden Chilness seiz'd her shiv'ring Limbs;
From her slack Hand down drops th'unravel'd Web;
Springing, distracted, from her Seat, she rends
Her Hair with female Shrieks; and to the Walls,
And foremost Squadrons runs with frantick Pace;
Heedless of Danger, and the flying Darts:
And with her loud Laments fills all the Sky.

Thus then do I behold thee? O my Son,
My dear Euryalus? And art Thou He,
The late, the only Solace of my Age?
Couldst thou forsake me desolate, forlorn,
Ah cruel? Could'st thou, to such Perils sent,
Deny thy wretched Mother Leave to take
Her last Farewel? Now in a Land unknown
Thou ly'st, to Latian Dogs and Fowls a Prey!

196

Nor did thy Mother for the Grave compose
Thy Corps, nor close thy Eyes, nor bath thy Wounds;
Nor o'er thy breathless Body throw the Robe,
Which, studious, Night and Day for Thee I wove,
And with the Web consol'd my Widow's Cares.
Where shall I seek thee now? What Earth detains
Thy Trunk dishonour'd, and thy mangled Limbs?
And is This All that of my Child returns,
To bless my Sight? Was it no more than This,
For whose dear Sake all Hazards I endur'd
Of Land, and Sea? At Me hurl all your Darts,
Ye Rutuli; dispatch Me first; transfix
My Breast; if any Pity dwells in Yours.
Or Thou, great Sire of Gods, in Mercy strike
To Hell with Thunder This devoted Head;

197

Since 'tis not in the Pow'r of mighty Woe,
Ev'n Woe like Mine, to burst This hated Life.

The Trojans, pierc'd with These Laments and Tears,
Groan thro' th'extended Host, and silent stand,
Stupid with Grief, and heartless to the Fight.
Her, aggravating That contagious Grief,
Wide, spreading, Actor, and Idæus seize,
(For so Ilioneus, and much distress'd
Iülus, secretly had giv'n Command)
And in their Arms convey her to the Tents.

But the loud Trumpet's Brass with dire Alarm
Sounds shrill from far: A thund'ring Shout succeeds;
And Heav'n's high Vault rebellows to the Noise.
The Volscians, by a Canopy of Shields
Protected, forwards rush, prepare to fill

198

The Trenches, and to level with the Plain
The Bulwarks rais'd. Some, viewing round, explore
The Passes; and attempt to scale the Walls,
Where by thin Ranks less guarded they appear.
The Trojans opposite, by lasting Siege
Long since experienc'd in defensive War,
Pour ev'ry Kind of Weapons, push them back
With spiky Poles, and tumble from above
Vast rocky Fragments of pernicious Weight;
If possible to break the Roof of Shields,
Which hides the Troop: Yet They all Dangers chuse
Beneath their iron Tortoise to sustain.
Not long: for where the thickest Globe of Foes
Crouds to the Walls, the Trojans from their Works
Roll down a Milstone of prodigious Size;

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Which crush'd the Rutuli, and far and wide
Burst thro' the Cov'ring which their Armour form'd:
Nor do the daring Rutuli persist
In Fight conceal'd; but press with missive Darts
To drive them from their Trenches.
Dire to the Sight, and terrible in Rage,
Mezentius from another Quarter waves
A Tuscan Pine, and hurls the Smoke and Fire:
But brave Messapus, of Neptunian Race,
Tamer of Steeds, pierces the Rampart through,
And calls for Ladders to ascend the Wall.

You, Ye celestial Muses, aid my Song;
And Thou, Calliope, the Chief, inspire
Thy Poet: Say, what Slaughter Turnus made,
What various Deaths and Ruin he dispens'd:
Say, Who by Whom was sent to Pluto's Realm;
And all the War's Extent revolve with Me.
You suppliant I invoke; For You can best,
Ye Goddesses, remember, and record.

A Tow'r there stood, commodious, and aloft
With Bridges rais'd; which all th'Italians strove
With utmost Force and Efforts to o'erturn:

200

To Them oppos'd the Trojans pour a Storm
Of Stones, and thro' the Loopholes shoot their Darts.
First Turnus in the Van a Firebrand threw,
And fix'd the flaming Mischief to it's Side;
Which, rising with the Wind, the Timber seiz'd,
And, sticking to the Lintels, eat it's Way.
Confus'd within They tremble; and in vain
Attempt to fly the Ruin. While they throng
Huddled in Heaps, and to That Part retire,
Which from the Pest is free: Down sudden falls
The Tow'r; And Heav'n all thunders with the Noise.
Half dead, and follow'd by the pond'rous Load,
With their own Weapons stab'd, and thro' their Breasts
Transfix'd with splinter'd Wood, they roll to Earth.
Scarce Lycus, and Helenor, from the Fall
Alone unhurt, remain'd: Helenor first,
And eldest born; whom to the Lydian King
The Slave Lycimnia by a stol'n Embrace
Bore, and in Arms forbidden sent to Troy,
Light with his Sword unsheath'd, and with his Shield
Inglorious, by no warlike Impress grac'd.
Soon as himself he saw amidst the Troops
Of Turnus, and by Thousands round inclos'd,
This way and That the Latian Squadrons rang'd;
As when a Stag, hem'd in on ev'ry side
By Hunters, furious bounds against the Darts,
And, sure of Death, leaps on the pointed Spears;
So flings himself among the hostile Croud

201

The desp'rate Youth, resolv'd, and bent to die,
And, where he sees the thickest Arms, springs on.
But Lycus, swifter, thro' the Foes and Darts
Reaches the Walls by Flight, and strives to grasp
A Turret, or some Friend's assisting Hand.
Him Turnus, rushing, with a Spear pursues,
And Victor Thus insults him: Couldst thou then,
Dastard, and Fool, from Me too hope to fly?
Then tugg'd him, hanging to the Battlements,
And with a mighty Fragment of the Wall
Drew him to Earth. As when the Bird of Jove
Seizes a Hare, or snow-white Swan, aloft
Born on his hooky Pounces: Or the Wolf
Snatches a tender Youngling from the Fold,
Sought with long Bleatings by it's careful Dam.
Loud Shouts arise: They hurry to th'Attack;
Some fill the Ditches; Others to the Top
Hurl flaming Brands. Lucetius, underneath
Approaching to the Gate, and bringing Fire,
Sinks, with a broken Rock's huge Weight oppress'd
By brave Ilioneus: Emathion falls
By Lyger; Chorinæus by thy Hand,
Asylas; By the Jav'lin That, and This
By the deceiving Arrow sent from far.
Cæneus Ortygius kills; then falls himself

202

By Turnus: Itys He, and Clonius next,
And Promulus, and Dioxippus kills,
And Sagaris, and Idas, as he guards
The lofty Tow'rs. Privernus to the Shades
Dispatch'd by Capys dies, but wounded first
By the light Jav'lin which Themillas threw:
He thoughtless to the Wound his Hand applys,
Dropping his Shield; the feather'd Shaft takes place,
And nails his Left-hand to his Side, and splits
The Bellows of his Breath that heav'd within.
The Son of Arcens stood in burnish'd Arms
Beauteous of Form, and gaudy in a Vest
Of Needle-Broid'ry and Iberian Dye:
Arcens, his Father, sent him to the War,
Bred in the Grove of Mars, along the Stream
Semethus, where Palichus' Altar stands
Mild to it's Votarys, and fat with Blood:
Mezentius quits his Arms, and round his Head
Thrice whirls his sounding Sling; Shot from the Thong
The Lead, half-melted, as it flies, divides
His Temples, and extends him on the Sand.

203

Here first, 'tis said, Ascanius in the War
Hansel'd his Shafts, 'till Then on tim'rous Deer
And Goats alone employ'd; and stretch'd on Earth
Robust Numanus, Remulus surnam'd,
To Turnus' younger Sister lately join'd

204

In Wedlock. Of That new Alliance proud,
In the first Van, with Petulance of Speech
Vaunting aloud, with haughty Strides he stalk'd;
And Thus insulting: Are you not asham'd,
Twice captive Phrygians, to be still besieg'd?
To lurk in Ditches, and oppose your Walls
To Death? Behold the Champions, who presume
By Force of Arms our Nuptials to demand.
What God, what Madness drove you to These Coasts?
No Sons of Atreus shall you here engage,
No wily-tongu'd Ulysses; but a Race
Ev'n from it's Infancy inur'd to Toils:
We in the Rivers plunge our new-born Babes,
And harden them in Frost, and icy Streams.
Our Boys in Hunting vex the Woods, and tire
The savage Beasts: With Them 'tis Children's Play
To rein the Steed, and bend the twanging Bow.
But patient of Fatigue, and train'd to live

205

On little, with keen Shares our lusty Youth
Subdue the Soil, or batter Towns with War.
In Iron ev'ry Stage of Life we pass,
And goad our Oxen with inverted Spears.
Nor does the Clog of tardy Age abate
The Vigour of our Minds, or damp our Fire.
With Helmets ev'n our hoary Hair we press;
And evermore delight to bear away
Fresh daily Plunder, and by Rapine live.
You, clad in shining Purple, and in Vests
With long luxuriant Sleeves, indulge your Sloth;
Dances are your Delight, and broider'd Robes;
And Ribbands bind your Bonnets to your Chins.
True Phrygian Women, (for no other Sex
Can Phrygia boast) go, revel on the Top
Of Dyndamus; Th'accustom'd Pipe's two Notes
Invite you thither; And th'Idæan Box,
And Mother Berecynthia's Cymbals call:
Desist from Battles, and leave Arms to Men.

Such Insolence of Words, such foul Reproach
Ascanius could not bear; but with the Nerve
Of Horses Hair full opposite he stood,
Levell'd his Shaft, and diverse drew his Arms:
And suppliant Thus to Jove his Vows address'd.
Almighty Jove, assist my bold Design:
My self with solemn Off'rings will enrich
Thy Temple; and before thy Altars place
A snow-white Steer, with gilded Horns, that bears

206

His Head aloft, and, equal to his Dam,
Already butts in Air, and spurns the Sand.

Th'Almighty heard, and thunder'd to the left
From a bright Quarter of the Sky: At once
Sounded the fatal Eugh; With dreadful Hiss
The Arrow flies, and fixes in the Head
Of Remulus, and pierces with it's Steel
His hollow Temples. Go now, and with Taunts
Insult the Brave: Such Answers to the proud
Rutulians the twice captive Phrygians send.
No more Ascanius; But with loud Acclaim
Th'exulting Trojans follow, rend the Sky
With Shouts, and lift their Courage to the Stars.

Apollo Then, with radiant Locks adorn'd,
Sate on a Cloud, and from the Sky beheld
The Trojan City, and th'Ausonian Host;
Then to Iülus Victor Thus he spoke.
Proceed in This new Courage, gen'rous Youth,
Offspring of Gods, and destin'd Sire of Gods;
'Tis This way Mortals rise, and reach the Stars:
Beneath Assaracus's Race, all Wars,
Future by Fate, shall justly be compos'd:
Nor Thee does Troy contain. This said, he slides
From Heav'n, and dissipates the breathing Air;
And tow'rds Ascanius comes, transform'd in Shape
To ancient Butes, Armour-bearer once
Of great Anchises, and a faithful Guard
Before his Palace; by Æneas now
Appointed on Ascanius to attend.
Chang'd, like That aged Sire Apollo mov'd;
Resembling Him all o'er, his Voice and Looks,

207

His silver Hair, and dreadful sounding Arms;
And Thus Iülus, with Heroic Fire
Glowing, bespeaks. Brave Youth, Æneas' Son;
Suffice it, that thy Shaft, Thy self unhurt,
Has pierc'd Numanus: This First Praise to Thee
Great Phœbus gives, nor envies thee the Fame
Of his own Art in Arms: For what remains,
Young Prince, decline the Fight. Thus having spoke,
In his mid Speech abrupt he far withdrew
From mortal Sight, and vanish'd into Air.

The Trojan Nobles recogniz'd the God,
Perceiv'd the Sound of his celestial Shafts,
And heard his Quiver rattle in his Flight.
Therefore Ascanius, greedy of the War,
Yet aw'd by Phœbus' Warnings, they restrain:
Themselves renew the Combate, and persist
In utmost Peril to expose their Lives.
A Shout thro' all the Works and Ramparts ran;
Eager they bend their Bows, and whirl their Slings;
The Ground all stuck with Darts, the hollow Casques
And Targets in the Shock of Conflict ring:

208

A rigid Fight ensues. As from the West
And rainy Kids a turbid Storm descends,
And beats the Ground; or thick with rattling Hail
Tumbles precipitant into the Sea:
When Jove tempestuous whirls the wintry Show'r
With Winds aloft, and bursts the bellying Clouds.

Bitias, and Pandarus, on Ida's Top
Sprung from Alcanor, Youths of mighty Size,
Whom rough Hiera, in the Wood of Jove,
Tall as their Country's Pines and Mountains, bore,
Open the Gate, which by their Chiefs Command
To Them was giv'n; and confident in Arms
Invite the Enemy into their Walls.
Themselves, within, on either side stand arm'd
To guard the Fort, and tow'r with plumy Crests:
Like two aërial Oaks, which near the Stream
Of pleasant Adige, or the Banks of Po,
Rise in the Sky, uplifting to the Clouds
Their unshorn Heads, and nod sublime in Air.
The Rutuli break in, as they perceive
The open Gates: Strait Quercens, and in Arms
Beauteous Equicolus, and Tmarus rash
Of Soul, and Hæmon brave, or turn their Backs
With all their Troops, precipitate in Flight;
Or in the Gates first Entrance leave their Lives.
Then hostile Fire with fiercer Fury burns;
And now the Trojans, in one Band conglob'd,
Dare in Excursions, and a closer Fight.
To Turnus, while in diff'rent Parts he storms,

209

And scatters Death, a Message is convey'd,
That now the Foes had open flung their Gates,
And with fresh Slaughter rag'd. He quits abrupt
His former Enterprize; and, rous'd with Ire
Enormous, rushes to the Trojan Gate,
Eager the haughty Brothers to engage;
And first Antiphates (for He the first
Himself presented) by a stol'n Embrace
Conceiv'd, and of a Theban Mother born
To high Sarpedon, with a Jav'lin hurl'd
He strikes to Earth: Swift flies th'Italian Ash
Thro' the thin Air, and in his Stomach fix'd
Lies deep beneath his Breast; A frothing Flood
From the black gaping Orifice he pours,
And in his Entrails warms the pointed Steel.
Then Merops, Erymanth, Aphidnus next
He fells; Then Bitias, ardent in his Eyes,
And terrible in Rage; not with a Spear;
No Spear could reach his Life; but like a Bolt
Of darted Lightning, shot with mighty Force,
And roaring Noise, a pond'rous Jav'lin came;
Which nor the two Bull-Hides, nor Corslet, lin'd
With double Plates of scaly Brass, and Gold,
Could intercept: Down falls his Giant Trunk,
And monstrous Limbs; The Earth beneath him groans,

210

And his broad Target thunders on the Field.
As when upon Eubœan Baiæ's Shore
A stony Pile sinks down; which on the Sea
With massy Rocks was built: So prone it falls
With Ruin vast, and tumbles on the Flats
Among the dashing Waves; The Surges rise
And to the Surface hurl the mingled Sand:
High Prochyta roars trembling at the Noise,
And tall Inarime's hard flinty Bed,
By Jove's Command on huge Typhœus thrown.

Here Mars adds Courage to the Latian Host,
Supplies new Strength, and goads their Breasts to War;
But to the Trojans sends pale Fear, and Flight.
They gather round, since Room for Fight is giv'n;
And all the God of Arms into their Souls
Himself infuses.
When Pandarus beheld his Brother slain,
And saw the State and Fortune of Affairs;
With mighty Force exerted at the Gate
He plies his Shoulders broad, and turns the Hinge,
And many of his Friends excluded leaves
In the rough Toil of Mars, without the Walls;
But others rushing, with himself, shuts in:
Fool, who perceiv'd not the Rutulian Chief

211

Pressing amidst the Croud, and in the Town
Included him, like a fierce Tyger pent
Among the tim'rous Cattle in a Fold.
Forthwith new Fire burns sparkling in his Eyes;
With dreadful Clank his shining Armour rings;
High on his Crest the bloody-colour'd Plumes
Tremble; and Lightning flashes from his Shield.
The Trojans, struck with sudden Fear, soon know
That hated Visage, and Those mighty Limbs.
Huge Pandarus springs on; and, fir'd with Rage
Vindictive for his Brother's Death, Thus speaks.
'Tis not Amata's Palace giv'n in Dow'r

212

To Turnus, nor his native Ardea's Walls,
That here inclose him; Hostile Tents thou seest,
And all Egress prohibited. To Him
Thus Turnus smiling, and sedate replies.
Begin then, and engage; if aught there dwell
Of Courage in That Breast: Thou shalt relate
To Priam, that a new Achilles here
Thou hast experienc'd. Thus the Hero spoke;
The Other, all his Strength collecting, hurls
A Jav'lin rough with Knots, and green with Bark:
The Air receives the Wound; The flying Spear,
By Juno interposing turn'd aside,
Errs from the Mark, and fixes in the Gate.
Not so the Weapon wielded by This Hand
Thou shalt escape: For diff'rent is the Force
Which wields the Weapon, and inflicts the Wound.
He said; And, rising to his lifted Sword,
Between his Temples with the Blade divides
His middle Front; and with a Wound immense
Cuts sheer, and separates his beardless Cheeks.
With Noise he falls, and pond'rous shakes the Ground;
And his dead Limbs, and Armour smear'd with Brains
Extends on Earth: His Head on either side
In equal Parts on either Shoulder hangs.
The trembling Trojans turn their Backs in Flight:
And had the Victor, at That Point of Time,
Bethought him to unlock the Bolts, and Bars,

213

And thro' the open Gate admit his Friends;
To the whole War, and all the Trojan Name
That Day had been the Last: But burning Rage,
And th'unextinguish'd Appetite of Blood
Drove him against the Foe.
First Phalaris intrepid he invades,
And ham-string'd Gyges; Snatching his swift Darts,
He plies their Backs, and urges them in Flight:
Juno infuses Strength, and warlike Fire.
Halys, and Phegeus with his Shield transfix'd,
To These he adds; Noëmon, Prytanis,
And Halius, and Alcander, on the Walls,
Unknowing, and engag'd in other Fight.
Lynceus, advancing opposite in Arms,
And calling on his Friends, with brandish'd Sword
From the high Mound he, to the Right, assails;
At one full Stroke off flew his gasping Head,
And, with his Helmet, at a distance lay.
Then Amycus, who Forest-Beasts among
Wide Havock made: More skill'd was none to tinge
The Jav'lin, and with Poison arm the Steel.
Next Clytius, Son of Æölus; with Him
Creteus the Muses' Friend: In num'rous Verse
Was his Delight, in Lutes, and tuneful Strings:
Horses, and Arms, and Wars, were all his Song.

214

At length the Trojan Chiefs, Serestus brave,
And Mnestheus, when the Enemy they saw
Within their City, and their Friends distress'd,
So many slaughter'd, others turn'd in Flight;
Advance to animate their fainting Troops.
Then Mnestheus; Whither, whither would you fly,
O Citizens? What other Fort is Yours,
What other Walls, to which you may retire?
Shall with Impunity one single Man,
And He too pent within your Ramparts, spread
So terrible a Slaughter thro' the Town?
And send so many of our bravest Youth
To Shades below? Dwells Nothing in your Breasts
Of Shame, and Pity for unhappy Troy,
For great Æneas, and your ancient Gods?

Fir'd by such Words, their Courage they resume;
And in one firm compacted Body stand.
Turnus, retreating, from the Fight withdraws
By slow Degrees; and to That Part retires,
Which by the ambient River's Stream is wash'd:
The more the shouting Trojans urge him close,
And thickning onwards rush. As when a Band
Of Hunters press and goar with pointed Spears
A savage Lion; He appal'd gives way,
With Aspect stern, and makes a sour Retreat:
Courage and Rage permit him not to turn
His Back; nor does his Strength suffice to leap
(Tho' fain he would) against the Darts, and Foes:
So Turnus backward with slow Paces moves,
Dubious of Thought, and all with Fury burns.
Ev'n Then the Centre of the hostile Troops

215

He twice attack'd, twice drove them on the Walls
Confus'd in hasty Flight. But all at once
On Him alone their Forces from the Tents
United press: And now no longer dares
Saturnian Juno to supply him Strength;
For airy Iris, from the Sky dispatch'd
By Jove, harsh Mandates to his Sister bore,
If Turnus from the lofty Trojan Walls
Receded not. He therefore, with his Shield,
And Arms, unable to support the Shock,
Stands panting, with such Storms of Darts o'erwhelm'd
On ev'ry side: His hollow Temples round
With oft repeated Blows his Helmet rings,
Batter'd with Stones, and flatten'd to his Head;
It's Crest struck off; Nor does his Target's Orb
Suffice against the Strokes: The Trojans thick,
With thund'ring Mnestheus at their Head, push on;
Then Sweat in Rivers o'er his Body flows;
He faints with Toil, and stagg'ring gasps for Breath;
And the vast Labour shakes his weary Limbs.
At length into the River's yellow Waves,
Plunging himself, he leaps with all his Arms:
The gentle Stream receives him, as he falls,
In it's soft Lap; and, washing off the Blood,
Wafts him exulting to rejoin his Friends.

The End of the Ninth Book.

216

BOOK the Tenth.

219

Olympus' Palace wide, mean-while, unfolds
It's everlasting Doors: The King of Gods
Summons a Council in the starry Hall;
From whence, enthron'd on high, all Lands he views,
The Latin Nations, and the Trojan Camp:
Th'Ethereal Synod meets; Himself begins.

Ye mighty Pow'rs of Heav'n, What backward turns
Your Purpose? And with disagreeing Schemes
Why Thus contend you? I forbade all War
Between the Trojans, and th'Ausonian States:
Against my Interdiction whence arose
New Discord? What Mistrust, or Fear prevail'd
On either Nation to engage in Arms?
A Time will come (forestall it not) for Fight

220

Sufficient; when fierce Carthage, thro' the Alps
Cutting it's Way, shall pour upon the Plains,
And threaten Ruin to the Roman Tow'rs.
Their Rage and Rapine let them Then indulge:
Permit them Now in Amity to join
With glad Accord, and ratify the Peace.

221

Thus Jove in brief: But not in brief reply'd
Bright Venus.

O Sov'reign Pow'r, O Sire of Men, and Gods,
(For now what Other Pow'r can we implore?)
Seest thou th'insulting Rutuli? the Pride
Of Turnus? how elated with Success

222

Thro' the mid Troops, sublime, he drives his Steeds?
Their very Ramparts now no more protect
The Trojans; Ev'n within their Gates, and Walls
The Battle rages; and their Trenches foam
With Tides of Gore. Æneas ignorant
Is absent: Shall they never be reliev'd
By your Permission? but be still besieg'd?
The Foes again are hov'ring round the Walls
Of Infant Troy; Another Army form'd;
And from Ætolian Arpi, Foe to Troy,
Again Tydides rises to the War:
Belike, new Wounds from Him I must expect;
And Your own Offspring bleed by mortal Arms.
If unpermitted by your Sov'reign Will
The Trojans landed on th'Italian Coasts;
Be They the Suff'rers, and your Aid deny'd.
But if so many Oracles Divine
They follow'd, These from Heav'n, and Those from Hell;
Why Now by any Pow'r are Schemes oppos'd
To your Decrees? And why new Fates ordain'd?
Why should I name the Fleet destroy'd by Fire
On Eryx' Coast? The Winds, the Tempest rais'd
By Æolus? Or Iris sent from Heav'n?

223

Now too th'Infernal Deities (That World
Alone was unsollicited) she moves;
And from the Stygian Shades Alecto sent
Amidst th'Italian Towns, licentious, raves.
No more for Empire are my Thoughts concern'd;
While Fortune was, on That we durst presume:
Be Those the Victors, whom your Will decrees.
If to the Trojans o'er the World remains
No Land, which Your hard Consort will allow;
Yet, Father, by the Smoke of ruin'd Troy
You I conjure, permit me to dismiss
Ascanius from the War; permit to live
My Grandson: Let Æneas ('tis his Fate)
Still wander, still be toss'd on Waves unknown,
And whate'er Course his Fortune shews pursue:
Be it indulg'd me to protect That Youth,
And skreen him from the rigid Toils of War.
Cythera, Paphos, and th'Idalian Seat,
And Amathus are Mine: There, quite withdrawn
From Arms, inglorious let him waste his Days:
With unresisted Sway, by your Command,
Let Carthage press Ausonia; And from thence

224

No Rival to the Tyrian Cities rise.
What boots it now the Trojans, that they 'scap'd
The Pest of War amidst the Grecian Fires;
And such a long Variety of Woes
By Land, and Sea exhausted; while they seek
A Seat in Latium, and new rising Troy?
Had it not more avail'd them to have rais'd
New Mansions on the Ruins of the Old;
On their lov'd Country's Ashes, and the Soil
Where Troy once stood? Give, Father, I implore,
Xanthus, and Simoïs, to them restor'd;
And let the wretched Trojans prove revolv'd
The Fates of Troy. Then, inly stung with Rage,
Imperial Juno spoke. Why Thus compel'd
By Thee, my long deep Silence must I break,
In open Words at last divulge my Wrongs,
And give the struggling Indignation Vent?
What Mortal, or what Pow'r Celestial forc'd
Æneas to present himself a Foe
To King Latinus, and engage in War?
Latium he sought, 'tis granted, urg'd by Fate,
Urg'd by Cassandra's Frenzy: When, or how

225

Did I advise him to forsake his Camp,
And to the Winds and Waves his Life expose?
Did I advise him with a Boy to trust
His Ramparts, and the Stress of all the War?
To seek th'Alliance of the Tuscan Bands,
And ruffle quiet Nations with Alarms?
What God to These false Measures urg'd him on?

226

What rigid Pow'r of Mine? What part in This
Did Juno act? Or Iris sent from Heav'n?
'Tis most injurious that th'Italian Troops
Should wrap the Walls of Infant Troy in Flames;
Unjust that Turnus, of Celestial Race,
(Pilumnus, and Venilia gave him Birth)
In his own Native Soil should fix his Seat.
What Name must brand the Trojans, who presum'd
With lawless Force the Latins to invade?
T'enthral, and plunder Kingdoms not their own?
By Rapine to espouse unwilling Brides,
Torn from the Bosoms of their plighted Lords?

227

To sue for Peace, and arm their Ships for War?
You rescu'd from the Greeks your darling Son,
(Such is Your Pow'r) and in Æneas' stead
Could substitute a Cloud, and empty Air;
And to as many Nymphs his Ships transform:
For Us 'tis criminal in aught to aid
The Rutuli. Æneas ignorant
Is absent: Ignorant, and absent still
Let him remain. Idalia's Seat is Yours,
And pleasant Paphos, and the stately Dome
Of high Cythera. Why shouldst thou provoke
Rough hardy Souls, a City big with Wars?
Was Mine th'Attempt to crush the sinking State
Of Phrygia? Mine? Or Hers, who to the Greeks

228

Expos'd the wretched Trojans? For what Cause
Did Europe's Pow'rs and Asia's rise in Arms,
By Crimes clandestine, and dissolve the Peace?
Did I conduct th'Adulterer of Troy
To ravage Sparta? Did I give him Arms?
Or with his lawless Lust foment the War?
Then was Thy Season for These Mother's Fears;
Now with unjust Complaints thy idle Rage
Rises ill-tim'd, and bandys Brawls in vain.

Thus Juno spoke; And all the Heav'nly Pow'rs
Murmur'd with various, and confus'd Assent:
As when the first soft Breezes thro' the Woods,
Included, tremble, and hoarse Whispers roll,
Boding to Máriners approaching Winds.
Th'Almighty Father then, Supreme of Kings,
Resumes Speech intermitted: (While He speaks,

229

Heav'n's lofty Court keeps silence, and the Earth
Trembles below, th'Ethereal Arch above;
The Winds all hush'd, th'unruffled Sea subsides:)
Hear then, and in your Minds imprint my Words:
Since Troy and Latium cannot now unite
In Peace, and your Contentions know no End;
Whatever Fortune is This day decreed,
Whatever Hope by Each is entertain'd;
Or Trojan, or Rutulian let Him be,
Without Distinction I shall Both regard:
Whether the Trojans by th'Italian Fates,
Or, ill advis'd, by Errour of their own
Are strait besieg'd. Nor from Their Share of Toils
Do I exempt the Rutuli: Let Each
Abide th'Event, and Fortune of his Deeds;
Jove is the Same, one common King to All:
The Fates will find a Way. So spake the God;
And by his Stygian Brother's pitchy Banks,
And whirling Torrent, ratify'd the Doom;

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And all Olympus trembled at his Nod.
Here ended the Debate: Imperial Jove
Uprises from his Throne of Gold; The Gods
Attend him to his Palace, round inclos'd.

Meanwhile the Rutuli thro' all the Gates
Persist, with mighty Slaughter wide diffus'd,
To press the Foes, and wrap the Town in Flames.
The Trojans, in their Trenches close besieg'd,
(No Prospect of Escape) dejected stand
On their high Tow'rs, and thinly man the Walls.
Asius Imbrasides, Thymætes, Son
Of Hycetaon, both th'Assaraci,
And Tybris, senior now, with Castor join'd,
Stand the chief Leaders. These from Lycia's Height
Clarus, and Hæmon follow; Brothers both
To great Sarpedon. Equal to his Sire,
And Brother, in Heroic Deeds of Arms,
(Mnestheus his Brother, Clytius was his Sire)
Lyrnessian Acmon, all his Body's force
Exerting, throws a vast unwieldy Rock,
No small Part of a Mountain. These with Darts
Strive to defend their Ramparts; Those, with Stones;
And scatter Fire, and fit their level'd Shafts.
Full in the Midst the Princely Youth of Troy
By Venus lov'd, and worthy all her Care,
(His beauteous Head uncover'd) shone to View:

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As shines a Gem inclos'd in yellow Gold,
Grace to the Head, or Neck; or Iv'ry set,
With curious Art, in Ebony, or Box:
His snowy Neck receives his flowing Hair,
Clasp'd in a Circle of soft ductile Gold.
Thee too, Mæonian Ismarus, in Fight
The warlike Nations saw dispensing Wounds,
And arming Darts with Poison; Thee, of Race
Illustrious born; where fertil Glebe they till;
And rich Pactolus waters it with Gold.
There Mnesteus fought, exalted with the Fame
Of Turnus, from the Walls so late repuls'd;
And Capys, who Campania's City nam'd.

While These in mutual Conflict fierce engag'd;
Æneas in deep Midnight plough'd the Waves.
For when, from King Evander, he arriv'd,
With sure Credentials, in the Tuscan Camp;
Address'd the Gen'ral, told his Name, and Birth;
What he desir'd, and what himself propos'd;
What Arms Mezentius added to his own;
Told him th'impetuous Insolence and Rage
Of Turnus; And reminded him how vain
Is Trust in human Strength; With Reasons urg'd

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Mingling Intreaties: No Delay is made;
Tarchon unites his Pow'rs, and strikes a League.
And now, commission'd by the Gods and Fate,
Under the Conduct of a foreign Chief,
The Lydians man their Fleet, and stem the Deep.
First sails th'Æneian Vessel; to it's Beak
The Phrygian Lions added: And above
Ida stands imminent, safe Harbour once,
And Refuge to the exil'd Sons of Troy.
Here great Æneas sits; and in his Breast
Revolves the various Hazards of the War:
And Pallas, join'd to his left side, enquires
Oft of the Stars, which guide their nightly Course;
Oft of his Toils by Land and Sea sustain'd.

Now open Helicon, and Songs inspire,
Celestial Muses; Say, what Pow'rs in Arms
Follow'd Æneas from the Tuscan Coasts,
And mann'd their warlike Ships, and plough'd the Sea.

First Massicus his beaky Tyger steers,
And cuts the Waves: A thousand warlike Youths
Obey his Orders; who from Clusium's Walls
And Cosa's City came: Their Weapons, Shafts;
Light Quivers at their Backs, and deadly Bows.

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With These rough Abas sail'd: In burnish'd Arms
His Troops all shone; Apollo cast in Gold
Brightning his Stern; To Him six hundred Youths
Expert in War their Populonia gave;
Ilva three hundred, Island fam'd for Mines
Of inexhausted Steel. Asylas Third,
Interpreter of Men and Gods; whose Skill
The Victim's Fibres, and the Stars obey,
And Tongues of Birds, and Lightnings from the Clouds
Flashing Presages: He a Thousand leads
Thicken'd for Fight, and throng'd with rigid Spears.
These by Alphæan Pisæ, Tuscan Town,
To Him were giv'n. Next beauteous Astur sails,
Astur confiding in his Steed, and Arms
Of various Colour. Those who Cære's Walls,
And Minio's Fields inhabit, and with Them
The ancient Pyrgi, and Graviscæ, known
For Air unwholesome, add three hundred more,
Unanimous to follow to the Fight.

Nor, Cycnus, Thee in Silence would I pass,

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Thou bravest Leader of Ligurian Blood;
Nor Thee, Cupavo, follow'd but by few:
On whose high Crest a Swan's white Feathers rise.
Love was your Crime, and on your graven Shields
The Impress of your Metamorphos'd Sire.
For Fame reports, that Cycnus, worn with Grief

235

For much lov'd Phaëton's unhappy Fate,
While with sad Songs he sooth'd his fond Despair,
Among the Poplar Boughs, his Sister's Shades,
Contracted downy Plumes, and hoary Age;
Abandon'd Earth, and singing sought the Stars.
His Son, amidst his Equals in the Fleet,
The mighty Centaur with strong Oars impels;
He o'er the Waves stands imminent, and aims
(Threatning aloft) a Rock's vast Weight to throw,
And with his long-built Vessel ploughs the Deep.

Next from his Native Soil fam'd Ocnus leads
His Squadron: Him, the Tuscan River's Son,
Prophetick Manto bore: His Mother's Name,
Mantua, to Thee he gave, and built Thy Walls;
Mantua, for high Progenitors renown'd:
Yet from One Race not all her Sons descend;
Three are her Tribes; Four Towns to Each; Herself
The Queen of All: From Tuscan Blood her Pow'r.

236

Five hundred Warriours more Mezentius arms
Against himself: Whom, crown'd with azure Reeds,
Mincius, who from Benacus rolls his Stream,
Wafted with hostile Ships into the Sea.
These stern Auletes leads; and rising high
Buffets the Billows with an hundred Oars;
The Sea turn'd upwards froths beneath the Strokes.
Him the vast Triton bears, and with his Conch
Frights the green Waves: His shaggy upper Parts,
Down to his Sides, a human Shape express;
His Belly in a Pristis ends: The Sea
Murmurs and foams beneath the Monster's Breast.
So many chosen Chiefs, in Thirty Ships,
Bore Aid to Troy, and plough'd the briny Fields.

'Twas now the Noon of Night; And Phœbe's Car
In it's mid Course had reach'd Olympus' Height:
Æneas (for his Care no Rest allows)
Sitting on Deck, himself the Rudder guides,

237

And shifts the Sails. When, lo! the Virgin Quire
Of his own Nymphs, to Nymphs from Ships transform'd,
To whom propitious Cybele had giv'n
A Deity in Ocean, met their Chief
In his mid Voyage: Rang'd together swam
As many Goddesses, and cut the Waves.
As stood before tall Vessels on the Beach.
They know their Prince from far; and in a Ring
Inclose him round: Of whom Cymodoce
In Speech the happiest, rising to her Waist,
Above the Ocean, grasps the Stern behind
With her Right hand; (her Left, as Oar, divides
The silent Waves:) and Him, unknowing, Thus
Addresses. Wak'st thou, Offspring of the Gods,
Æneas? Wake, and loose thy flying Sails.
We, Sea-Nymphs now, were once Thy Fleet, the Pines
Which grew on Ida's sacred Top. When press'd
By faithless Turnus with the Sword, and Fire,
Compel'd we burst thy Cables; and Thee sought
O'er the vast Deep. The Mother of the Gods,
Commiserating, This new Form bestow'd;
And gave us to be Goddesses, and live
Immortal underneath the Ocean's Waves.
But young Ascanius in the Walls and Mounds
Is now confin'd; amidst the hostile Darts,
And Latins all with Martial Terrours arm'd.

238

Th'Arcadian Horse, with the brave Tuscans join'd,
Have reach'd the Place assign'd them: With his Troops
Turnus resolves to intercept their March,
And frustrate their Attempt to join the Camp.
Rise Thou, and first, when dawning Morn appears,
Command th'associate Nations to their Arms:
And take thy bright unconquerable Shield,
Which Vulcan wrought, and border'd round with Gold.
To-morrow's Sun (if aught my Words can find
Of Credit) shall behold vast slaughter'd Heaps
Of Rutuli. She said; and with her Hand,
At Parting, in That Motion not unskill'd,
Push'd the tall Vessel: She, more swift than Winds,
Or darted Jav'lin, flys along the Waves.
The rest then speed their Course: The Chief himself,
Anchises' Son, in Ignorance admires;
Yet, by the Omen rais'd, to Heav'n uplifts
His Eyes, and Thus in brief prefers his Pray'r.
Propitious Mother of the Pow'rs Divine,
Idæan Goddess; in high Dyndamus
Delighting, and in lofty Citys proud
With Tow'rs, and Lions harness'd to thy Car:
Thee now I follow in the War; Do Thou
Confirm This Augury, and aid Thy Troy.

239

He said: And now returning Day roll'd on,
And with it's full-born Light dispell'd the Shades.
First he commands his Follow'rs to attend
The Signal giv'n; to animate, to arm
Their Courage; and prepare themselves for Fight.
The Trojans now, and his own Camp he views,
High on the Deck; Then waves his blazing Shield
In his Left Hand extended. From the Walls
The Trojans raise a Shout which rends the Sky;
New Hope enflames their Rage; And Show'rs of Darts
They hurl: As when, beneath the dusky Clouds,
Strymonian Cranes the wonted Signal give
With sounding Pinions; cut the liquid Air,
With joyful Clang, and leave the Storms behind.

Amaz'd stood Turnus, and th'Ausonian Chiefs;
Till, looking back, they saw the Navy move
Cov'ring the Sea, and gliding make to Shore.
Fierce burns his Helm; and from his tow'ring Crest

240

Flame flashes; and his Shield's round Bossy Gold
Vomits vast Fires. As when in Night serene,
Ensanguin'd Comets shoot a dismal Glare:
Or the red Dog-Star, rising on the World,
To wretched Mortals threatens Dearth, and Plagues,
With baleful Light; and saddens all the Sky.

But, nought dismay'd, bold Turnus bends his Thoughts
First to possess the Beach, and from the Shore
Repel them. With these Words he chides, and fires
His Friends: What long you wish'd is now arriv'd,
To crush your Foes; All Mars is in your Hands:

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Be Each now mindful of his Spouse, and Home;
Now emulate your great Forefathers' Fame,
And imitate their Actions. Let us run
Aggressors; and attack them, as they land
In Hurry and Disorder; while their Feet
First slide with tott'ring Steps upon the Beach.
Fortune assists the Brave.

He said; and ponder'd in his Thoughts, what Force
To lead against th'Invaders, and with whom
To trust the Siege. Mean-while, with Bridges laid
From the tall Ships, Æneas lands his Troops:
Some watch the Ebbings of the shallow Sea,
And, leaping, to the Fords themselves commit;
Others by Oars. Tarchon observes the Strand,
Where Shelves he fears not, nor the dashing Waves
Remurmur; but the Sea with swelling Tide
Unbroken flows: He turns his Prows to Land,
And Thus exhorts his Mates. Now, chosen Youths,
Bend to your sturdy Oars: Urge on, impel
Your Vessels; Cut, and cleave This hostile Ground

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With their keen brazen Beaks; Let ev'n our Ships
Furrow the Soil: Be Mine ev'n stranded here;
Shipwreck it self, if snatching Land at once,
I'd not refuse. When Tarchon Thus had spoke,
His Crew industrious ply their Oars, and drive
Their foaming Vessels to th'Ausonian Coast;
'Till on dry Land they rest: All safe, but Thine,
O Tarchon: For while, sticking in the Flats,
Long on a hard unequal Ridge she hangs,
Doubtful, and pois'd, and tires the beating Waves;
She bulges stav'd, and pours into the Deep
The Crew expos'd: The Fragments of the Oars
And floating Planks encumber them, in vain
Making to Shore; And the retreating Tide
Supplants their Feet, and bears them back to Sea.

Turnus delays not; but with rapid March
Against the Trojans all his Squadron leads,
And stands, oppos'd in Arms, upon the Shore.
The Signal sounds: Æneas first invades

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(Omen of prosp'rous Fight) the Rustick Troops,
And fells the Latins. Theron first he slew,
Of mighty Bulk, who durst in Fight assail
Æneas: Thro' his complicated Brass,
And golden tissu'd Corslet, with his Sword
Deep bury'd, he exhausts his open Side.
Next Lycas; who, from his dead Mother ript,
To Thee, Apollo, was an Off'ring vow'd;
Because, an Infant, from the sharpen'd Steel
He was preserv'd. Not far from Him remote
The hardy Cisseus he extends in Death,
And monstrous Gyas, beating down with Clubs
Th'embattled Squadrons. Them not aught avail'd
Alcides' Arms, nor their own Force in War,
Nor yet their Sire Melampus, Follow'r once
Of Hercules, when earthly Toils he bore.
'Gainst Pharus, insolent with Coward Taunts,
He hurls a Spear; which in his clam'rous Mouth
Stands fix'd. Thou too hadst sunk beneath his Arm,
Unhappy Cydon; while thy new Delight
Clytius Thou didst pursue, the blooming Boy,
Just yellow with soft Down: Thou too hadst fall'n,

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Regardless of thy execrable Loves;
Had not thy Band of Brothers, Phorcus' Sons,
Sev'n Youths, oppos'd his Might: Sev'n Darts they threw;
Some from his Shield and Helmet vain rebound;
Some raze his Flesh: But Venus puts them by.

Æneas then Achates Thus bespeaks:
Supply me Darts; (Not One shall fly in vain
Against the Rutuli:) Those Darts, which drank
So much of Grecian Blood in Trojan Fields.
Then grasps at once, and whirls a mighty Spear;
Which flying passes thro' the brazen Shield
Of Mæon; and his Corslet, and his Breast
At once divides. Alcanor runs to aid
His Brother; and supports him, as he falls,
With his Right Hand: Another Jav'lin flies,
Bores his Right Arm, and cuts it's bloody Way;

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And from his Shoulder by the stringy Nerves
The dying Limb hangs down. Then Numitor
The Jav'lin from his Brother's Body draws,
And darts it at the Trojan Chief: From Him
It errs, and razes great Achates' Thigh.

Here Clausus, trusting in his Sabine Pow'rs,
And his own Youth, advances to the Fight;
Wounds Dryops with a rigid Spear, from far,
Beneath his Chin with mighty Force impress'd;
Pierces his Throat, and, while he speaks, at once
Of Voice, and Soul bereaves him: With his Front
He knocks the Ground, and vomits clotted Gore.
Three Thracians too, from Boreas' distant Clime,
And Three, whom Ismarus and Idas sent,
(Idas their Father, Ismarus the Soil
Which gave them Birth) by various Chance he kills.
Halesus meets him, and th'Auruncan Bands,
And Neptune's Son Messapus, with his Steeds
Proud and conspicuous. With their utmost force
Now These, now Those, in Conflict, strive to push
Each other from their Ground: Ev'n on the Brink
Of Latium in fierce Combate they contend.
As when the Winds, with equal Strength, and Rage,
Discordant, in the spacious Sky raise War;

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Nor Winds, nor Clouds, nor Waves, on either Side,
Yielding give way; long doubtful hangs the Fight;
All struggling 'gainst each other press adverse:
So Troy's and Latium's Squadrons grappling strive,
Foot fix'd to Foot, and Man to Man oppos'd.

But in a diff'rent Part, where whirling Stones
The Torrent toll'd along, and Trees uptorn
From either Bank; th'Arcadian Troops, unus'd
On Foot to combate, by the pressing Foes
O'erpower'd gave way; the Nature of the Soil
Compelling them, on craggy Ground, to quit
Their Steeds: Them turn'd in Flight when Pallas saw,
Now with Intreatis (for That sole Resource
In such Distress was left) now with Rebukes
And keen Upbraidings he excites their Fire.
Ah! whither fly you? By your selves, my Friends,
And your brave Deeds, by King Evander's Name,
And Conquests gain'd in War, by my own Hopes
Which burn to emulate my Father's Praise;
Trust not to Flight: A Passage thro' the Foes
Must with the Sword be hewn; where thickest crouds
That Globe of Troops: That way Your selves, and Me,
Pallas your Chief, our Country's Glory calls.
No Gods oppose us; By a mortal Foe
Mortals our selves are urg'd: As many Lives
And Hands are Ours, as Theirs: Behold the Sea

247

Confines us here; No Land remains for Flight:
To Troy shall we repair? or stem the Deep?

This said, against the thickest of the Foes
He bounds into the Midst: Whom Lagus first,
By his ill Fate directed, obvious meets,
Him, as he tugs a Stone of monstrous Weight,
With a hurl'd Dart he pierces, where the Ribs
Are sever'd by the intermediate Chine;
And from the Bones draws back the sticking Spear.
Him stooping Hisbon hop'd to strike; but fail'd
In That Attempt: For Pallas, as he rush'd,
And rag'd, uncautious, for his slaughter'd Friend,
Surpriz'd; and deep within his heaving Lungs
Bury'd his Sword. Then Helenus he stabs;
And Him who durst pollute his Step-dame's Bed,
Anchemolus, of Rhætus' ancient Race.
You too, extended on Rutulian Plains,
Twin Brothers, Thymber, and Larides fell,
Offspring of Daucus, One in Looks, and Mien;
Whom undistinguish'd ev'n your Parents view'd,
With the sweet Errour pleas'd: But Pallas' Sword
A dire Distinction to your Persons gave.
For Thymber, from thy Trunk th'Evandrian Blade

248

Sever'd the Head; And thy Right Hand lopt off,
Larides, sought it's Lord; The Fingers move,
Quiv'ring in Death, and strive to grasp the Steel.

Th'Arcadians, by their Chief's Reproaches fir'd,
And seeing his Heroic Deeds, rush arm'd,
With Shame and Indignation, on the Foe.
Pallas transfixes Rhæteus, as he flies
Beyond him, in his Car; Just so much Space
Of Life, the more, to Ilus was allow'd.
For He at Ilus aim'd his Dart from far;
Which Rhæteus intercepts, as Thee he flies,
Brave Teuthras, and thy Brother Tyres: Roll'd
From his high Car he spurns th'Ausonian Fields.
As when the wish'd-for Winds in Summer rise,
Thro' the thick Woods the Shepherd scatters Fire;
The middle Trees blaze sudden, and at once
Vulcan's dire Squadrons deluge all the Plains:
He, pleas'd, sits viewing the triumphant Flames.
So to thy Succour, Pallas, all thy Troops
Rush in one Band conglob'd: But brave in War
Halesus moves against the hostile Croud;
And in his Armour all himself contracts.
Ladon, and Pheres, and Demodocus
He strait dispatches: With his shining Sword
From brave Strymonius his Right hand he hews,

249

Rais'd to his Throat: 'Gainst Thoas' Face a Stone
He dashes, and indents his Bones commix'd
With Brains and Blood. Halesus' Sire, the Fates
Foretelling, had conceal'd him in the Groves:
But when the Senior clos'd his Eyes in Death;
Fate seiz'd its Own, and to Evander's Darts
Consign'd him. Pallas now attempts his Life;
But first to Tyber Thus prefers his Pray'r.
Grant, Father, to the Jav'lin, which I wield,
Success, to fly thro' stern Halesus' Breast:
His Arms and Spoils shall on thy Oak be hung.
This heard the God: Halesus, while he skreen'd
Imaon, turn'd, ill-fated as he was,
His Breast unarm'd, to meet th'Arcadian Dart.

But Lausus, no small Portion of the War,
Permits not by so great a Champion's Death
His Troops to be dismay'd: Oppos'd in Arms
Abas, the Knot and Bulwark of the Fight,
He kills the first: Arcadia's Offspring falls;
The Tuscans fall; and You, Ye Sons of Troy,
Whom Greece could not consume. The Troops engage
With equal Leaders, and with equal Strength:
The outmost Ranks close press the thicken'd War;
Nor does the Croud permit their Hands, or Darts
To move: Here Pallas pushes, Lausus There;

250

But little diff'rent was their Age; and Both
Of beauteous Form: To neither Fortune gave
Ever to see his Native Country more.
Yet Jove permits them not to meet in Fight:
Each from a greater Foe his Fate attends.

Mean-while his Sister to King Turnus' Thoughts
Suggested, that to Lausus' present Aid
He should advance. While He, with swift Career
Cutting the middle Ranks, his Friends beheld;
Desist You from the Battle, and retire:
Pallas I meet alone; To Me alone
Pallas is due: O! were his Father here
Spectator of the Fight. He said; His Friends
Form the commanded List, and clear the Field.
At their Retreat, and at Those proud Commands,

251

The Royal Youth, in Wonder, and Amaze,
Stands fix'd on Turnus; rolls his Eyes around,
And with stern Aspect his huge Bulk surveys.
Then to th'insulting Chief These Words returns:
Or I This day will reap the Fame of Spoils
Illustrious won, or of a glorious Death;
For either Chance my Father stands prepar'd:
Forbear thy Threats. This said, he takes the Field;
The chill Blood curdles round th'Arcadians' Hearts:
Turnus his Chariot quits; on Foot prepares
For closer Fight. As When a Lion spys
From a high Rock a Bull upon the Plain,
Standing aloof, and meditating War;
Forward he springs: Not diff'rent was the Port
Of Turnus, and his Figure, as he walk'd.
When Pallas thought within his Jav'lin's Reach
His Foe advanc'd; He first begins th'Assault

252

With Strength not justly match'd, to try if aught
Fortune would favour an Attempt so bold;
And Thus to Heav'n's wide Arch directs his Pray'r.

Alcides, by Those hospitable Boards
Which once, my Father's Guest, thou didst approach,
Thee I implore, assist my great Design:
Let Turnus, gasping, by my Hand behold
The bloody Armour from his Body torn;
And own me Victor with his dying Eyes.

Alcides heard the Youth; beneath his Breast
Choak'd a big Groan, and fruitless Tears let fall.
Then Thus th'Almighty Sire consol'd his Son.
Fix'd stands the Date of Mortal Lives; The Space
Is short, and irretrievable to All:
But by their Actions to extend their Fame,
Is Virtue's Task. Beneath Troy's lofty Walls
So many Sons of Gods in Battle fell;
Ev'n my own Race Sarpedon there expir'd.
Turnus his Fate too waits: And to the Verge
Of his allotted Time his Life rolls on.

253

He said; And turn'd his Eyes from Latium's Fields.

But Pallas with vast Strength a Jav'lin hurls;
And from it's Scabbard draws his shining Sword.
On his high Shoulder lights the flying Spear;
And, passing thro' the Shield's extremest Edge,
The Body of great Turnus slightly raz'd.
Turnus a Lance prefix'd with sharpen'd Steel
Long poising, darts it, and Thus speaks; Now see
Whether our Weapon can more deeply wound.

He said; And, driv'n with forceful Swing from far,
Thro' the mid Shield, so many Plates of Brass,
So many Iron-Folds, and tough Bull-Hides,
The Jav'lin makes it's Way; and pierces sheer
The Corslet's Mail, and bores his mighty Breast.
He wrenches out the reeking Point in vain;

254

Thro' the same Orifice the Blood, and Soul
Issue at once: He falls upon his Wound;
His Armour o'er him rings; With gory Mouth
He gasps in Death, and bites the hostile Plain.
Then o'er him Turnus speaks:
Arcadians, to Evander (mark my Words)
This Message bear; Just such as he deserv'd
To be restor'd, his Pallas I restore.
The Honour of a Tomb, whate'er it be,
And all the Solace which a Grave can yield,
I frankly give: Yet dearly has he bought
His Trojan Guest's Alliance. Having spoke,
With his left Foot the breathless Corps he press'd;
Snatching with eager haste the pond'rous Belt,
And on it That dire Argument engrav'd,
So many Youths in one connubial Night
Dispatch'd, and bridal Beds besmear'd with Gore;
Which good Eurytion's Art had carv'd in Gold:
This Trophy now, with recent Conquest crown'd,
Turnus enjoys, and in proud Triumph wears.

Dark to Futurity, and blind in Fate

255

Are Mortal Minds; indocile to observe
Due Measure, when elated with Success.
A Time will come, when Turnus from his Soul
Shall wish young Pallas by his Hand untouch'd;
And hate Those Spoils, and That Victorious Day.

But Pallas, by his Friends, with Groans, and Tears,
Born on a Shield, is to the Camp convey'd;
O Grief, and Glory to thy aged Sire,
Illustrious Youth! Thus fated to return!
This was thy first, and last of Days in War:
Yet Heaps of slaughter'd Foes thou leav'st in Death.

And now Æneas, not by Rumour spred,
But by undoubted Tidings, is inform'd
Of such a dire Disaster; That his Friends
Saw but small Space betwixt Themselves and Death:
That now 'twas Time with Succours to relieve
The flying Trojans. With his Sword he fells
Whatever near him stands; and thro' the Troops,
Burning with Vengeance, mows a Passage wide;
Thee, Turnus, Thee with recent Slaughter proud,
He seeks: Evander, Pallas, and the Boards

256

Which he, the first, a welcome Guest approach'd,
And his new plighted Faith, all stand in View
Before his Eyes. Four Youths of Sulmo's Race,
As many bred by Ufens, Victims doom'd,
Living he snatches, Victims to the Ghost
Of Pallas; with their captive Blood to drench
His Fun'ral-Pile, and on it's Flames expire.
At Magus then he aims a Spear from far:
Artful he stoops; The Jav'lin o'er his Head
Flies quiv'ring: With his Hands the Hero's Knees
He close embraces, and Thus suppliant speaks.
Thee, by thy Father's Manes, I implore,
And by Iülus' rising Hopes, preserve
This Life; O spare my Sire, and Son in Me:
A stately House I have, and hid in Earth
Talents of graven Silver, and a Mass,
A pond'rous Mass, of wrought, and unwrought Gold.
The Trojan Conquest turns not on my Blood;
Nor can one Life so great a Diff'rence make.
He spoke; and Thus the Trojan Chief reply'd.
The Mass thou nam'st of Silver and of Gold
Save for thy Children; Turnus first destroy'd
That Traffick of the War, when Pallas fell:
This thinks Iülus, This Anchises' Ghost.
He said; and, as he pray'd, his Helmet seiz'd
With his Left hand, and twisting back his Head

257

Plung'd to the Hilt his Fauchion in his Side.
Not far was Trivia's and Apollo's Priest,
Æmonides; A Mitre wreath'd his Hair
With holy Fillets; In a sumptuous Garb,
And rich conspicuous Arms, he shone all o'er.
Him thro' the Field the Trojan Chief pursues;
Stands o'er him fall'n, a Victim to his Rage,
And covers him with Death's thick Shade: His Arms
Serestus from his breathless Body strips,
A Trophy destin'd to Thee, God of War.

From Vulcan's Lineage Cæculus deriv'd,
And Umbro from the Marsian Mountains sent,
Renew the Fight: Æneas storms, oppos'd;
Anxur's Left hand, and his whole Target's Orb
With his keen Blade at once he strikes to Earth.
He much had boasted, and believ'd his Vaunt
Of force to crown his Wishes; and perhaps,
His Hopes to Heav'n exalting, to Himself
Had promis'd hoary Hairs, and Length of Age.
Next Tarquitus, whom beauteous Dryope,
Nymph of the Groves, to Sylvan Faunus bore,
Proud in bright Armour, to the raging Chief

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Obvious himself presents. With his long Spear
He bores his Corslet, and his cumb'rous Shield:
Him praying, and a thousand Things to say
In vain attempting, on the Ground he rolls;
Lops off his Head, and o'er his weltring Trunk
With keen Invective Thus insulting speaks.
Lie there now, Chief redoubted; With a Grave,
By thy fond Mother, in thy Native Soil,
Thy Corps shall not be grac'd: To Birds of Prey
Thou shalt be left; Or in the Ocean's Waves
Be roll'd; and hungry Fishes lick thy Wounds.
Antæus next, and Lycas he invades;
The choicest Chiefs who Turnus' Squadrons led;
And valiant Numa; yellow Camers next,

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Brave Volscens' Son: The richest Lord was He
In fertil Glebe of all th'Ausonian Kings,
And o'er Amyclæ's silent Nation reign'd.

Like huge Ægeon, with an hundred Arms,
(So Fame reports) and with an hundred Hands,
From fifty Mouths and Breasts expiring Flames;
Against Jove's Thunderbolts as many Shields
Clashing, and brandishing as many Swords:
Like Him o'er all the Field Æneas storm'd
Victor, when once his Steel grew warm with Blood.
Against Niphæus' Breast oppos'd in Fight,
And his four Steeds which harness'd drew his Car,
He next advances: Whom when they beheld
Raging from far, and terrible in Arms;
Startled they fled, o'erturn'd their prostrate Lord,
And whirl'd the rapid Chariot to the Shore.
Then Lucagus, by two white Coursers drawn,
Drives thro' the middle Squadrons; and with Him
Liger his Brother: Liger guides the Reins;
Fierce Lucagus his glitt'ring Fauchion wheels.
Them raging with such Violence of Fire
The Trojan Prince endur'd not: Swift he rush'd,

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And with his Lance adverse sublime appear'd.
To whom Thus Liger:
Tydides' Chariot, or Achilles' Steeds,
And Phrygia's Fields thou seest not: On This Earth
At once shall end thy Battles, and thy Life.
Such Insolence of Words from Liger flew;
But not with Words the Trojan Prince reply'd:
For full against the Foe his Lance he hurl'd.
As Lucagus prone, hanging on the Blow,
Goads with a Dart his Horses, and prepares,
With his Left Foot protended, for the Fight;
Beneath the Border of his shining Shield
The Spear takes place, and pierces his left Groin:
He from his Chariot dying rolls to Earth.
Whom good Æneas Thus with bitter Taunt
Bespeaks, insulting: Lucagus, These Steeds

261

Thy Car betray'd not, tardy in their Flight;
Nor Fantoms vain misled thee from the Foe:
Thy self, inglorious, leaping from the Seat,
Thy Chariot hast deserted. Having spoke,
He seiz'd the Steeds. From the same Chariot fall'n,
Th'unhappy Brother stretch'd his Hands disarm'd:
Brave Trojan, by Thy self, by Those who gave

262

So great a Leader Birth, permit This Life;
And pity me imploring. More he pray'd;
But Thus Æneas: Not such Words e'erwhile
You utter'd: Die; and, as a Brother should,
Accompany your Brother. Then his Breast,
The Soul's dark Lodging, with his Sword he bores.
Such Slaughter thro' the Field the Trojan Chief
Spreads, like a Whirlwind, or a torrent Flood,
Raging around: At length, so long besieg'd
In vain, Ascanius, and the Trojan Youth
Their Trenches quit, and sally from the Town.

Mean-while great Jove to Juno Thus address'd:
O Thou, to Me by two the closest Ties
So much endear'd, my Sister, and my Wife;
Venus, as you suppos'd, (nor has That Thought
Erroneous prov'd) supports the Trojan Pow'rs:
Nought have the Men themselves of Courage, nought
Of Vigour in the War, no Fire, nor Minds
Patient of Danger, and inur'd to Toils.

To whom Saturnia with dejected Eyes:

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Why thus perplex you, O my honour'd Lord,
My Soul already anxious, and with Dread
Trembling at your Severity of Speech?
Had now my Love That Int'rest in your Breast,
Which once it had, and justly had; This Boon
To me th'Omnipotent would not deny;
That Turnus from the Field I might withdraw,
And to his Father Daunus safe restore.
Now let him die, and with his pious Blood
Satiate the Trojan Vengeance. Yet his Race
Descends from Ours; and in the fourth Degree

264

Pilumnus is his Sire: And He himself
Has oft with lavish Hand your Altars crown'd.

To whom in brief th'Almighty King reply'd:
If what you ask for This devoted Youth
Be to defer his present Death, and add
An Interval of Life; and if you think
My Pow'r so far extends; by Flight preserve
Turnus, and snatch him from impending Fate.
Thus much we may indulge: But if your Pray'r

265

Supposes aught still farther in Reserve;
If you conceive th'Event of all the War
Can be revers'd; on airy Hopes you feed.

To whom Thus Juno weeping: What, if That
Which ev'n in Words you now refuse to grant,
Were by the Purpose of your Soul decreed,
And Length of Life to Turnus stood confirm'd?
Now a hard Fate attends the guiltless Youth;
Or I with Fears ungrounded am deceiv'd:
O may I prove That Errour; and your Thoughts

266

(You want not Pow'r) to better Counsels bend.

Thus having spoke, she speeds her sudden Flight,
Wrap'd in a Whirlwind, from Olympus' Tow'r,
Down to the Trojan, and Laurentian Hosts;
And drives a Storm before her thro' the Air.
Then (wondrous to behold!) the Goddess arms
A Visionary Fantom, light, and vain,
From a thin Cloud, chang'd to Æneas' Shape;
Decks it with Trojan Darts; his Shield, and Crest,
And all the Honours of his God-like Head
Dissembles; gives it empty Words, and Sound;
And forms it's Steps, and Manner, as it walks.
Such Figures, as 'tis said, departed Ghosts
Flutt'ring assume; or mimic Dreams by Night.
In the first Van th'exulting Shade provokes
The Hero, and with Darts, and Voice defies.
Turnus advances fierce; and hurls from far
A whistling Lance; The recreant Spectre flies:

267

When Turnus thought Æneas from the Fight
Retiring; and, in Turbulence of Soul
Confus'd, imaginary Hopes devour'd:
Where fly'st thou? Stay Æneas, nor desert
Thy plighted Nuptials: This Right hand shall fix
Thy Mansion sought so long o'er Ocean's Waves.

Thus vaunting he pursues, and whirls his Sword,
Nor sees his Triumphs fleeting in the Wind.
Close to the Covert of a lofty Rock
A Ship by chance there stood, with Ladders hung,
And Bridges laid; which King Osinius bore
From Clusium's Coast. To This, with hasty Steps,
The trembling Image of Æneas flies,
And in it's Hatches lurks. With Haste no less
Turnus pursues, all Obstacles surmounts,
And passes o'er the Bridges: When the Deck
He scarce had reach'd; Saturnia bursts the Cords,
And speeds the Vessel thro' the rolling Deep.
Him absent, o'er the Field, Æneas seeks
For Combate; many to the Shades below
Obvious he sends. And now the mimic Form
No longer lurks conceal'd; but mounts in Air

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Aloft, and mingles with a dusky Cloud:
While Turnus in mid Ocean wafted sails.
Unknowing of his Safety, and ingrate
In Ignorance, he backward bends his Eyes;
And both his Hands uplifting to the Stars,
Thus speaks. Almighty Father, couldst thou deem
Me fit in such a Crime to be involv'd,
And so severe a Penance to endure?
Whence came I? Whither am I hurry'd? How,
Or What shall I return? Or how behold
Laurentum's City, and th'Ausonian Camp?
How shall I be reproach'd, how justly scorn'd
By Those brave Youths who to my Arms adher'd?
All whom (O Shame and Guilt!) in Death's Extremes
I have abandon'd? Them ev'n now I see
Straggling in Flight, and hear their dying Groans.
What shall I do? O may the Earth to me

269

Yawning disclose a Grave! Or You, ye Winds,
You rather pity me, your willing Prey:
Turnus implores you, drive the splitting Ship
On Rocks, or plunge it in the gulphy Sands:
Whither the Rutuli, and conscious Fame
May not pursue me. Speaking thus, he shifts
His wav'ring Thoughts, and fluctuates in his Cares;
Whether, for such Dishonour, he should plunge
The rigid Steel into his Breast; or leap

270

Into the Waves, and swimming seek the Shore,
And rush again amidst the Trojan Arms.
Both ways he thrice attempts; as oft restrain'd
By mighty Juno, pitying his Distress:
With prosp'rous Gale and Tide he cuts the Deep,
And at his Father Daunus' Walls arrives.

But by Jove's Impulse fierce Mezentius fir'd
Mean-while succeeds to Battle; and invades
The conqu'ring Trojans. All the Tyrrhene Bands
Assemble: Him alone with mortal Hate
United, and with Storms of Darts they press.
He, like a Rock, which o'er the Ocean wide
Hangs prominent, expos'd to Winds and Waves,
And all the Rage of Sea, and Sky endures;
Stands fix'd, unmov'd. First Dolichaon's Son
Heber he strikes to Earth; then Latagus,
And flying Palmus. But the Face adverse
Of Latagus he dashes with a Stone,

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The pond'rous Fragment of a massy Cliff;
Palmus he leaves to roll upon the Ground,
Hamstring'd and fall'n: His Arms and Crest he gives
To Lausus, in proud Triumph to be worn.
Then Phrygian Evas falls beneath his Arm:
And Mimas, the Compeer and equal Friend
Of Paris; whom to Amycus his Sire
Theano bore, in That same fatal Night,
When Cisseus' Daughter, teeming with a Torch,
Gave Paris Birth: Within his Native Walls
He fell; in Latium Mimas lies unknown.

As when a mighty Boar, by baying Hounds
Driv'n from the Mountain's Height, (who many Years
Harbour'd on piny Vesulus has fed,
Or in Laurentum's Lake, and marshy Grove;)
Soon as among the Toils he is arriv'd,
Makes a sour Stand, and foaming storms, and rears
The stiffning Horrours of his bristly Chine:
None durst with near Approach provoke the Fight;
With Jav'lins thrown from far, and Clamours safe
They ply him: He intrepid ev'ry Pass

272

Attempts, and from his Shoulders shakes the Darts;
Whetting his Tusks, and unresolv'd in Rage.
So none of These, incens'd with just Revenge
Against Mezentius, dare with Weapons drawn
Engage in closer Fight; with missile Darts,
And Clamours loud, they urge him press'd from far.
Leaving his destin'd Hymenéal Rites
Came Grecian Acron, from the ancient Realms
Of Coritus. Him when Mezentius saw,
Breaking the middle Ranks, with purple Plumes,
And the gay Favours of his plighted Bride
Conspicuous, proud: As when a Lion, pinch'd
With raging Hunger, ranges round the Stalls;
If chance he spy a tim'rous Goat, or Deer
Lofty with branching Horns; he yawns o'erjoy'd
With vast expanded Jaws, erects his Mane,
Sticks to the Prey, and lies upon it press'd
Close to the Ground; Black Gore, besmearing, laves
His savage Mouth:
So glad Mezentius rushes on the Foes;
Unhappy Acron falls, with quiv'ring Feet
Knocks the black Ground, and sobs his Soul away,
And steeps the broken Weapon in his Blood.

Orodes, flying, with a darted Spear
He deigns not to pursue, nor with a Wound
Unseen to fell him: Obvious, and adverse

273

He meets him, and opposes Man to Man;
Less skill'd in Stratagem, than brave in Arms.
Then pressing with his Foot his Body fall'n,
And resting on his Lance; Behold, my Friends,
Sublime Orodes, of the War no Part
Contemptible, lies here: His Friends with Shouts
Triumphant follow, and applaud their Chief.
Then He expiring; Long, whoe'er thou art,
And o'er me unreveng'd, thou shalt not vaunt,
Proud Victor: Thee the same allotted Fates
Expect, and These same Fields thy Corps shall press.
To whom Mezentius with malignant Smile:
Die Thou; Of Me let Heav'n's great King dispose.
Then wrenches out the Dart: A deadly Rest,
And iron Slumber seals his heavy Eyes,
And closes them in everlasting Night.

274

Sacrator stabs Hydaspes; Cædicus
Alcathous: Rapo Parthenius kills,
And hardy Orses. By Massapus falls
Clonius, and Lycaonian Erycetes;
The first from his unmanag'd flound'ring Steed
Tumbled to Earth, the last on foot assail'd.
But Lycian Agis to the Fight advanc'd;
Whom, not degen'rate from his Grandsire's Worth
Brave Valerus extends upon the Ground.
Salius Atronius kills; and falls Himself
By fam'd Nealces, skill'd to hurl the Dart,
And the deceiving Arrow sent from far.

Now unrelenting Mars, on either Side,
Equal'd the Slaughter, and the mutual Deaths;
The Victors, and the Vanquish'd kill, and rush
With equal Force: Nor These, nor Those retreat.
The Gods in Jove's high Court with Pity view
The Rage of Mortals, and their fruitless Toils.
Here Venus sits Spectator, Juno There:
And pale Tisiphone amidst the Troops
Of Thousands storms. But turbulent in Ire,
With his long Spear Mezentius takes the Field;
Huge as Orion, when on foot he stalks,
Cutting his Way thro' the wide liquid Realms
Of Nereus, and surmounts the topmost Waves

275

With Shoulders tall: Or when, an aged Oak
Transporting from the Hills, upon the Ground
He walks, and hides his Head among the Clouds.
So in vast Arms Mezentius tow'rs sublime:
Thro' the long Ranks when him Æneas spys;
To meet him he prepares: The Other fix'd
And fearless waits, expecting the Approach
Of his brave Foe; and in his own Bulk stands.
Then having measur'd with his Eyes the Space
Fit for his Jav'lin's Reach; Assist me now,
My own Right hand, and Thou, my missive Lance;
You are the only Gods that I invoke:
Lausus, thy self I vow the Trophy deck'd
With Spoils from This false Trojan Pirate torn.

He said; and hurl'd the hissing Dart from far:
Which flying glances from the Target's Orb;
And 'twixt the Side and Belly fixes deep
In fam'd Anthores: Who, from Argos sent,
And once Companion of Alcides' Toils,
Had to the King Evander's Arms adher'd;
And in a Latian City chose his Seat.
He falls, unhappy, by Another's Wound;

276

With dying Eyes views the last Light of Heav'n,
And on his much-lov'd Argos thinks in Death.

Then good Æneas throws a Spear; which flys
Swift thro' the hollow Orb of triple Brass,
Thro' the tough Linen Folds, and three Bulls Hides
Convolv'd: The Point stands fix'd within his Groin;
But spends it's Force, too short to reach his Life.
Æneas, glad to see the Tuscan's Blood,
Snatches his Fauchion from his Thigh with Haste,
And darts impetuous on his trembling Foe.

This Lausus saw; and struck with Fear, and Grief,
For his lov'd Father by such Danger press'd,
Groan'd deep; and Tears ran trickling down his Cheeks.
Here thy Heroick Deeds, and rigid Fate
In Death, brave pious Youth (if future Times
To so renown'd an Act will Credit yield)
Shall not by me in silence be suppress'd.
The Sire, retreating, useless for the Fight,
And with his Wound disabled, back withdrew;
And in his Target trail'd the hostile Spear.
The Youth springs on amidst the thickest Arms,
Himself opposing to Æneas' Sword
Rais'd high, and ready to discharge the Blow;

277

And for a time sustains his Shock: His Friends
Follow with loud Acclaim, and Jav'lins fling,
'Till shelter'd by the Target of his Son
The Father had retir'd; and push the Foe,
And bear him back with Darts: Æneas storms
Adverse, and in his Shield contracted stands.
As when a Tempest, thick with patt'ring Hail,
Precipitate descends; from all the Fields.
Flys ev'ry Traveller, and lab'ring Hind
For Shelter safe, or to a River's Bank,
Or to the Hollow of a lofty Rock;
There hide secure, while pour'd upon the Earth
The Tempest rages: 'till the Sun restor'd
Permits them to renew the Toils of Day.
So, with thick Darts on ev'ry side o'erwhelm'd,
Æneas all the Storm of War sustains:
And chides young Lausus, and Thus threatning speaks.
Fond Youth, why rushest thou on certain Death,
Daring beyond thy Strength, and tender Years?
Thy Piety deceives thee. Not the less
He, desperate, provokes and braves his Foe;
And now the Trojan Leader's Fury, rais'd
To it's full Height, boils terrible; The Fates
Spin the last Thread for Lausus: While he vaunts,

278

Æneas plunges all the mighty Sword
Quite thro' the Middle of his Body driv'n;
Which pierc'd his thin light Shield, and broider'd Vest,
Wrought by his Mother with soft Threads of Gold.
The Blood his Bosom fills; and to the Shades
His Soul flys sad, and murmurs thro' the Air.

279

But when Anchises' Son his Visage saw,
His Visage wond'rous pale, and chang'd in Death;
Deeply he groan'd with Pity, and his Hand
Extended, as he fell; And to his Thoughts
The Image soft of filial Piety
It self presented. What, ill-fated Youth,
What Honours, by such mighty Virtue claim'd,
To thy Deserts can good Æneas pay?
The Arms, which pleas'd thee living, still be Thine;
And to thy Parents' Manes, and their Dust
(If aught That Care sollicit thee in Death)
Thy breathless Corps I willingly restore.
And let This Thought console thy rigid Doom;
By great Æneas' Hand thou fall'st. At once

280

He chides his lingring Friends; and from the Ground
Uplifts him, with his Tresses, form'd by Art,
All foul in Dust, and clung with clotted Gore.

Mean-while the Sire, repos'd near Tyber's Stream,
With Water rins'd his Wounds, and eas'd his Limbs,
Reclin'd against an Oak. Upon the Boughs
His brazen Helmet at a distance hung;
And on the Mead his pond'rous Armour lay.
Round stand the chosen Youth: He, faint with Toil,
Supports his Neck, and smooths his waving Beard.
Of Lausus much enquires; and many sends
His anxious Father's Mandates to convey,
And bring him from the Battle. But his Friends,
Weeping, upon a Shield dead Lausus bear,
Mighty, and with a mighty Wound subdu'd.
His Soul, prophetick of disastrous Chance,
Well knows the distant Groan: With Dust he soils

281

His hoary Hair, and stretches both his Hands
To Heav'n; and clinging hugs the bloody Coarse.
And was I then, my Son, so fond of Life;
That I should suffer Him, whose Life I gave,
For me t'oppose himself against the Foe?
Am I thy Father by thy Wounds preserv'd,
Thus living by thy Death? Ah! now indeed
I feel my wretched Exile: Now the Stab
Smarts, deep inflicted. By Tyrannick Rage
Driv'n from my Sceptres, and my Father's Throne,
Thy Fame, my Son, I sully'd with my Crimes:
'Twas just that I by ev'ry Kind of Death
Should pay the Forfeit of my guilty Life,
Due to my Country, and my Subjects' Hate.
Yet still I live, and bear This odious Light;
But will not long. This said, himself he rais'd
Prop'd on his halting Thigh: And, tho' the Pain
Of his deep Wound retards him, not dismay'd
He bids them bring his Steed, his Pride, Delight,
And Solace in all Wars; On him from all
With Victory he still return'd: His Lord
Bespeaks him mourning, and These Words lets fall.
Rhœbus, We long have liv'd; if aught there be

282

To Mortals long: Or Thou this day shalt bring
Those bloody Trophys, and Æneas' Head;
And Victor prove with me of Lausus' Death
The joint Avenger: Or, if no Resource
Be left for Valour, Thou with me shalt fall:
For, gen'rous Beast, thou wilt, I rest assur'd,
No foreign Lord, or Trojan Burthen bear.

This said, the Courser on his Back receives
Th'accustom'd Load: He settles in the Seat;
And both his Hands with pointed Jav'lins fills:
His brazen Helmet glitters on his Head;
And nods the waving Crest of Horses Mane.
Thus arm'd, with rapid Haste into the Midst
Furious he rides: Within his Bosom boils
Disdainful Shame, and Grief to Madness wrought,
And Love inflam'd with Rage, and conscious Worth.
Here on Æneas thrice he calls aloud:
Æneas knows him, and Thus joyful prays.
So may the mighty Father of the Gods,
And high Apollo grant; may'st thou begin
T'engage in Fight.
He said; and obvious with his Spear advanc'd.
Then Thus Mezentius: Why, malicious Foe,

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Think'st thou to fright me, after Lausus' Death?
Me by That only Wound thou couldst destroy.
Death, and the Gods I equally despise:
Forbear; I came to die: But first receive
These Greetings from my Hand. He said, and hurl'd
A Dart against the Foe: Then, flying round
In Circuit wide, another Spear he throws,
Another, and another after That:
But the big golden Orb sustains them All.
Thrice to the left he wheel'd his Steed in Rings
About the standing Chief, and Jav'lins threw:
And thrice the Trojan Hero bore around
The iron Grove fix'd in his brazen Shield.
At length, impatient of so long Delay,
Weary'd with wrenching out so many Darts,

284

Urg'd to unequal Fight, and pond'ring much
In Thought, he springs to Vengeance; and between
The hollow Temples of the warriour Steed
Lances his Spear. The sprightly Beast erect
Uprears himself in Air, and with his Hoofs
Buffets the Wind: Then, following with his Weight
To Earth, incumbers his dismounted Lord,
And floundring on his prostrate Shoulder lies.
The Trojans, and the Latins rend the Sky
With deaf'ning Noise: Æneas rushes on,
And from his Scabbard draws the shining Sword;
Then Thus: Where now is fierce Mezentius? Where
That Fury of a Soul? To whom, his Eyes
Uplifting, and recov'ring Breath, and Sense,
The Tuscan Thus reply'd: Why, bitter Foe,
Dost thou insult, and menace Death? My Blood
Is due to Thee, and spilt without a Crime:

285

On other Terms I came not to the War;
Nor did my Lausus for his Sire with Thee
Make other Contract. One thing I implore,
(If aught of Grace remain for vanquish'd Foes)
Permit my Corps to be interr'd: I know
The Malice of my Subjects hovers round;
Forbid That Outrage: Let me share a Grave,
Join'd to my Son, and rest with Him in Death.

This said; He in his Throat at once receives
Th'expected Blade; and in a Flood of Gore
On his bright Armour pours his gushing Soul.

The End of the Tenth Book.

286

BOOK the Eleventh.

287

Mean-while Aurora rising leaves the Sea:
Æneas (tho' th'Interment of his Friends
Hurrys his Thoughts, with Fun'ral-Cares perplex'd)
With the first Dawn of Morning, Victor pays
His Vows to Heav'n. He plants upon a Hill
An Oak of mighty Bulk, on ev'ry side
Shorn of it's Boughs; and all with shining Arms,
The Spoils of King Mezentius, clothes the Trunk:
A Trophy rais'd, great Warriour God, to Thee.
He fits the bloody Crest, and broken Darts,
And plated Corslet with twelve Wounds transfix'd;
On the left side his brazen Buckler hangs,
And from his Neck his iv'ry-hilted Sword.
Then to his shouting Friends (for all the Chiefs,
Crouding, inclose him round) he Thus begins.

Great is, my Friends, th'Advantage here obtain'd;
Henceforth all Fear be banish'd: See the Spoils
Of That proud King, the First-fruits of the War;

288

And by my Sword Thus here Mezentius stands.
Now to the King Latinus, and his Walls
We march: Prepare your Courage, and your Arms;
And in your Hopes anticipate the Fight.
Let no Delay (when first we shall unfix
Our Standards by Permission of the Gods,
And draw our Youth embattled from their Tents)
Nor any Apprehension, Doubt, or Fear
Retard you ignorant. Let us mean-while
Commit to Earth our yet unbury'd Friends;
(The only Honour we to Ghosts can pay:)

289

Go, with the last sad Rites, officious, grace
Th'illustrious Dead, who purchas'd with their Blood
This Realm for Us: And to Evander's Walls
With mournful Pomp let Pallas first be sent:
Whom, not deficient in Heroic Fire,
And well-try'd Worth, the fatal Day cut off,
And in a Fun'ral immature involv'd.

Weeping he spoke; and to That Tent repair'd
Where lay the breathless Corps of Pallas, watch'd
By old Acætes, Armour-bearer once
To King Evander; now, but not with like
Success, the Guardian of his darling Son.
The Band of all th'Attendants, and a Croud
Of Trojans, and with Tresses scatter'd loose
(Such is th'accustom'd Rite) the Trojan Dames

290

Stand round: But when beneath the lofty Roof
Æneas enter'd; to the Stars they raise
A gen'ral Groan aloud, and beat their Breasts;
And all with Shrieks the high Pavilion rings.
Himself, when he beheld the bolster'd Head
Of beauteous Pallas, and his snowy Hue,
And from th'Ausonian Spear the gaping Wound
In his smooth Breast, Thus spoke with rising Tears.

Did Fortune then, Thou much-lamented Youth,
Tho' first propitious, envy me thy Life?
That my establish'd Realm thou should'st not see,
Nor Victor to thy Father's Palace ride?
Not so of Thee I promis'd to thy Sire
Evander; when, at parting, he embrac'd,
And sent me to wide Empire, and with Fear
Warn'd me, that with a Nation fierce and rough
We must engage. And now perhaps, with Hope
Delusive greatly flatter'd, He with Vows
Invokes the Gods, and on their Altars piles
Oblations: We the Youth now rob'd of Breath,
Nor longer subject to the Pow'rs above,
Weeping, with unavailing Honours grace.
Thy Son's untimely Fun'ral thou shalt see,
Unhappy! Is This then my wish'd Return?
These my expected Triumphs? This my Hope?
Yet Him, Evander, shalt thou not behold

291

Pierc'd with dishonest Wounds; nor wish thy own
Sad Fun'ral, for thy Son's inglorious Life:
Ah me! how great a Champion hast Thou lost,
Ausonia! Thou, Iülus, what a Friend!

Thus having wept, he bids them bear away
The cold lamented Coarse; and from his Troops,
Assembled all, a thousand Men selects,
On the last mournful Honours to attend,
And with his Father's Tears to join their own:
Small Consolation for such mighty Woe;
Yet due in Justice to the hapless Sire.
Others a soft light Bier, with quick Dispatch,
Of Oaken Twigs, and twisted Osiers weave;
And cover with an Arch of bending Boughs
The high-rais'd Bed. There the dear Youth they lay
Sublime on verdant Leaves; Like some fair Flow'r,

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Soft Violet, or languid Hyacinth,
Crop'd by a Virgin's Hand: Whose beauteous Gloss
Still blooms unfaded; tho' the Parent Earth
Moist Nutriment, and Strength no more supplys.
Two broider'd purple Vests Æneas brings;
Which for Himself, with That sweet Labour pleas'd,
With her own Hands Sidonian Dido wove,
And wrought the vary'd Silk with Threads of Gold.
In One of These he wraps the breathless Youth;
(The last sad Honour!) with the Other veils
His muffled Hair devoted to the Flames.
Then copious Spoils, the rich Rewards of War,
Gain'd in Laurentian Fields, he piles on Heaps,
And in long Order bids the Pillage move:
Adds Steeds, and Darts, from Foes in Battle won;
And Victims, with cramp'd Hands behind them bound,
Doom'd with their Blood the Manes to appease,
And tinge the fun'ral Fires. The Chiefs themselves,
Commanded, bear the Trunks with hostile Arms

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All cover'd, and with hostile Names inscrib'd.
Acætes, with the Load of Age, and Grief,
Bending, moves slow, supported on each side;
Now knocks his Breast, now tears his wither'd Cheeks,
And faint, and prostrate, grovels on the Ground.
The Chariots in Procession follow next,
Smear'd with Rutulian Blood: Behind them, stripp'd
Of his rich Trappings, goes the warriour Steed,
Æthon; and big round Drops roll down his Face.
Some bear his Lance, and Helmet; For the rest
Turnus, proud Victor, keeps: The mourning Troop
Succeeds; The Trojan, and the Tyrrhene Chiefs,
And, with inverted Spears, th'Arcadian Train.
When all the solemn Pomp had pass'd along;
Æneas stood, and Thus, deep groaning cry'd:
Me the same Fates of unrelenting War
Summon from These to other Fun'ral Tears;
Eternally Farewel, illustrious Prince,
Great Pallas, ever honour'd, ever mourn'd;
Hail, and Farewel. This said, He turn'd his Steps,

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Sought the high Walls, and to the Tents repair'd.

And now from King Latinus' Court arriv'd
Ambassadors, with Olive-Branches wreath'd,
And Grace imploring; that he would permit
The Corps, which slain in Battle, o'er the Field
Lay scatter'd, to be quietly interr'd:
War with the Dead he wag'd not; Let him spare
A Nation, once by hospitable Tyes,
And plighted Spousals, to Himself ally'd.
Them good Æneas, and their Suit so just,
Receives with gracious Air; and Thus proceeds.
What Fortune, unpropitious, undeserv'd,
Plung'd you, Ye Latins, in so deep a War,
And urg'd you from our Friendship to decline?
Peace for the Dead desire you? for the Corps
Which fell in Battle by the Chance of Arms?
Peace to the Living gladly would I grant.
I came not hither but by Fate's Decree;
Nor with th'Ausonian Nation make I War.
Your King the Bond of our Alliance broke;
And rather chose to trust in Turnus' Arms.
Just had it been, that Turnus to This Death
Himself should have expos'd: If he prepar'd

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By Force to end the War, and from These Coasts
To drive the Trojans; Him it had became
With Me in equal Combate to engage.
Or He, or I had liv'd; on whom the Gods,
Or his own conqu'ring Hand, had Life bestow'd.
Go You; and grace your Friends, in Battle slain,
With the last Rites, and fire their Fun'ral-Piles.

He ceas'd: They all in silent Wonder stood;
And on each other, gazing, turn'd their Eyes:
Then aged Drances, with invet'rate Spight
Against young Turnus irritated, speaks.
O great in Fame, but far more great in Arms,
Brave Trojan Chief; What Praises shall I chuse
To equal Thee with Heav'n? What shall I first
Admire? Thy Justice? Or thy Deeds in War?
We to our City, grateful, will convey
Thy Words, and Thee to King Latinus join;
If any Fortune second our Attempt:
Let Turnus seek Alliances elsewhere.
Our selves with Pleasure will assist to raise
The destin'd Tow'rs; and on our Shoulders bear
The future Walls of new reviving Troy.

He said; They all unanimous assent
In Murmurs. For twelve Days they fix the Truce;
And, by it's Arbitration, o'er the Woods

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The Trojans and the Latins mingled rove
In Safety: On the Hills the lofty Ashe
With Axes sounds: and Pines which reach the Stars
They roll from Mountains; nor with Wedges cease
Hard Oak, and smelling Cedar to divide,
Nor Firs on groaning Waggons to convey.

But flying Fame, which not long since pronounc'd
Young Pallas Victor on th'Ausonian Plains,
Now, Messenger of such o'erwhelming Woe,
Evander, and Evander's Palace fills,
And all his City. Thronging to the Gates
Th'Arcadians rush; and by th'accustom'd Rite
Snatch fun'ral Torches. In long Order rang'd
A Train of Flames illumines all the Road,
And far and wide discriminates the Fields.
To meet That sad Procession, slow advance
The Trojan Troops, and join their wailing Friends.
Them when th'Arcadian Matrons saw arriv'd
Within the Walls; with Shrieks and loud Laments
Repeated all the frantick City rings.
But King Evander by no friendly Force
Could be restrain'd: Distracted thro' the Midst
He rushes; falls on Pallas' breathless Corps
Stretch'd on the standing Bier, and clinging close
Hugs him with Groans and Tears: At length his Words,
Long choak'd with Grief, a painful Passage found.

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Not such, O Pallas, was thy Promise giv'n
To thy unhappy Sire; that with Reserve,
And Caution, thou would'st trust the bloody Field:
And well I knew, in the first Feats of Arms
How much young Glory, and sweet Fame could do.
O dire First-fruits of War, ill-fated Youth!
Mournful Beginnings! and my Pray'rs and Vows
Unheard by all the Pow'rs Divine! And Thou,
Celestial Saint, dear Partner of my Bed,
Bless'd in thy Death! nor to This Woe reserv'd!
I by a disproportion'd Length of Life
Usurp on Nature, and survive my Son.
Me, to the Trojan Arms Confed'rate join'd,
The Rutuli with Darts should have o'erwhelm'd:

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I should have breath'd my last: And Me, This Pomp,
Not Pallas, to my Walls should have convey'd.
Nor You, Ye Trojans, aught would I accuse;
Nor our Alliance, nor our plighted Faith.
This Fate was due to my expiring Age:
And since This Death untimely to my Son
Was destin'd; 'Tis some Solace that he fell
Leading the Trojans to the Latian Plains,
And first his Thousands of the Volscians slew.
Nor Thee with other Fun'ral would I grace,
O Pallas, than with That which is assign'd
By good Æneas the brave Sons of Troy,
The Tyrrhene Chiefs, and all the Tyrrhene Bands.
Large Trophies Those have yielded, who by Thee
In Battle fell: Now too Thy bulky Trunk,
O Turnus, should be rais'd aloft in Arms;
Were He, or I of equal Strength, and Age.

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But why unhappy with These fond Complaints
Detain I thus the Trojans from the War?
Go; and These Mandates to your Prince convey.
That after Pallas' Death I here protract
A hated Life, Thy Valour is the Cause;
From which, thou seest, the Father and the Son
Expect the Blood of Turnus justly due:
This only Thou and Fortune can confer.
I seek no Joys of Life; nor is it just:
But wish to bear Those Tidings to my Son,
And chear his Ghost among the Shades below.

Mean-while Aurora, with new rising Light,
Restor'd the Cares and Labours of the Day
To wretched Mortals. On the winding Shore,
By Prince Æneas, and by Tarchon rais'd,
The Fun'ral-Piles stand thick: By ancient Rite
All hither bring the Bodies of their Friends,
And lay them on the Fires; whose smouldring Smoke
Ascends in Wreaths, and darkens all the Sky.
Thrice the tall blazing Piles, and dusky Flames
They round encompass; Those on Foot, and These

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High on their Steeds, all clad in shining Arms;
And loud Laments, and piercing Clamours raise.
The trickling Tears bedew the Earth below,
And down their Armour run: To Heav'n ascend
The Trumpet's Clangor, and the Cries of Men.
Some fling the Spoils, from slaughter'd Latins torn,
Into the Flames; Helmets, and burnish'd Swords,
And Reins, and fervid Wheels: Some add to These
Gifts better known, which by the Dead Themselves
Were worn, their Shields, and Not successful Darts.
Then num'rous Oxen, bristly Swine, and Sheep,
Choice Victims, snatch'd from all the Fields around,
They sacrifice, and stab them on the Fires.
O'er all the Shore they watch their burning Friends;
Nor from the smoking Dust can be withdrawn,
'Till dewy Night inverts the Hemisphere,
And spangles o'er the Face of Heav'n with Stars.

Nor less, in diff'rent Parts, unnumber'd Piles
The wretched Latins build: Some Corps in Earth
(And many Those) of their dead Friends they hide;
Some to the neighb'ring Coasts, and Towns they send.
The rest, a huge promiscuous Heap of Slain,
Unhonour'd, undistinguish'd, they consume:
The blazing Fires illumine all the Fields.
Now had the Third returning Morn dispel'd
The dewy Shades of Night: The mingled Bones
From the high Ashes, mourning, they collect;
And load them with a Mount of smoking Mold.

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But most of all in King Latinus' Court,
And in the Royal City, Sorrow reigns,
And wildest Consternation: Aged Dames,
And hapless Brides, and Sisters drown'd in Tears,
And wretched Orphans, curse the wastful War,
And Turnus' Nuptials. Let Himself, they cry'd,
Himself decide the Quarrel with his Sword;
Since to the highest Honours of the State,
And to the Crown of Latium he aspires.
This Drances aggravates with keenest Spight;
Turnus alone, he urges, to the Field
Is challeng'd; He alone must end the War.
Much on the adverse Side, with various Speech,
For Turnus is alledg'd: The Queen's great Name
O'ershades him; and his Glory well-deserv'd
By various Trophies, and his Fame in Arms.

Amidst These Factions, and tumultuous Jars,
Lo! from great Diomede's imperial Walls
Th'Ambassadors, return'd with joyless Cheer,
Their Answer brought; That by such vast Expence
Of tedious Toil they Nothing could effect:
Nought would their Presents, or their Gold avail;
Nought their importunate Intreaties urg'd:
The Latins other Succours must desire,
Or to the Trojan Leader sue for Peace.
The King Latinus' self with mighty Grief
Sinks fainting: That by Fate's undoubted Doom
Æneas came, the Anger of the Gods

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Declares, and recent Tombs before their Eyes.
Therefore, within the lofty Court, he calls
To Council all the Fathers of the State.
They summon'd meet; and thro' the crouded Ways
Flow to the Palace. In the Middle plac'd,
The first in Years, and in imperial Rule,
Latinus, with no joyous Aspect sits.
Th'Ambassadors from Diomede return'd
He first commands their Answer to report,
And all unfold: The rest in Silence sate;
And Venulus obedient Thus began.

The Son of Tydeus, and the Grecian Camp,
O Citizens, with Pain, we have beheld;
Surmounted all the Hazards of the Way,
And touch'd That Hand by which Troy's Kingdom fell.
He Victor there Argyripa has rear'd,
A City from his Native Country nam'd,
And built on Iäpygian Gargan's Soil.
Admission being gain'd, and Leave to speak;
Our Gifts we offer; tell our Name, and Birth;
What People had invaded us with War;
What Cause had brought us to th'Ætolian Coast.
This heard; with pleasing Grace he Thus reply'd.

O Nations bless'd by Fate, Saturnian Realms,

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Ancient Ausonians; What disastrous Chance
Disturbs your Peace, and prompts you to engage
In Wars unknown? We all, who with the Sword
Presum'd to violate the Trojan Fields,
(I pass Those Toils which fighting we sustain'd
Beneath the lofty Walls, the Heroes swept
By Simois' Stream) o'er all the World have felt
Unheard-of Woes, and Penance for our Crimes,
Which Priam's self would pity. This well knows
Incens'd Minerva's inauspicious Star;
Vengeful Caphareus; and th'Eubœan Rocks.
Since That fam'd War, to various distant Shores,
Exil'd, and from each other toss'd, we rove;

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To Proteus' Pillars Menelaüs driv'n,
Ulysses to the Ætnæan Cyclops' Caves.
Of Pyrrhus' Tragic Kingdoms shall I tell?
Or of Idomeneus' subverted State?
Or of the Locrians on the Libyan Coast?
Great Agamemnon's self, our King, the Chief
Of Greeks, by his disloyal Consort's Hand,
In the first Entrance of his Palace fell;
Asia was conquer'd, and the Adult'rer crown'd.
Shall I relate how unpropitious Gods
Gave not to Me to view my Native Soil,
Debar'd me from my much-lov'd Queen's Embrace,
And beauteous Calydon? Ev'n now Portents,
Hideous to Sight, pursue us; And my Friends,
Lost in new Bodies, and transform'd to Birds,
Or wing the Air, or wander in the Streams;
(O dire Infliction! and my Country's Woe!)
And with their plaintive Cries the Rocks resound.
This might I well expect; since, mad in Arms,

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Ev'n the Celestial Bodies I assail'd,
And with a Wound bright Venus' Wrist profan'd.
But urge not, urge not Me to Fights like These:
Nor with the Trojans wage I any War,
After the Fall of Troy; nor with Delight
Do I reflect on their Misfortunes past.
The Presents, which to Me you hither brought,
Bear to Æneas: I have stood oppos'd
To his rough Darts; and hand to hand engag'd:
Credit th'Experienc'd, with how vast a Swing
He wheels his Sword, and rises to his Shield;
With what a Whirlwind flies his missive Spear.
Had Two such Heroes more on Ida's Coast
Been bred; the Trojans with invasive War
Would to Inachia's Cities have advanc'd,
And Greece lamented the Reverse of Fate.
Whate'er Obstruction to our Siege was giv'n
Before the stubborn Walls of hardy Troy,
Great Hector, and Æneas gave: By Them
The Grecian Conquest long suspended hung,

306

And to the Tenth revolving Year retir'd.
Both fam'd for Courage, both renown'd in Arms;
This first in Piety. Join you your Hands
On any Terms, and ratify the Peace:
But O beware; nor Arms to Arms oppose.

Thus, Best of Kings, his Answer you have heard;
And his Resolves on This important War.

Scarce had the Legates spoke; A various Noise
Thro' the confus'd Ausonian Council ran:
As rapid Rivers, pent in rocky Caves,
Hoarse Murmurs roll; The neighb'ring Banks resound.
Soon as the struggling Passions were allay'd,
And all their trembling Mouths in Silence clos'd;
First, having to the Gods address'd his Pray'r,
Thus from his lofty Throne the King began.

I could have wish'd, Ye Latins, that before

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This present Time (and fitter had it been)
We had determin'd on the Sum of Things.
Less seasonable is it to debate
In Council, when the Foe surrounds our Walls.
Unequal War, Ye Citizens, we wage
With Sons of Gods, a brave unconquer'd Race:
Who by no Toils or Battles are fatigu'd;
Nor, ev'n when vanquish'd, can abstain from Fight.
What Hope of Succours from th'Ætolian Arms
You had conceiv'd, dismiss: Each to Himself
Is his own Hope; but how small That, you see,
In what a Ruin of Affairs confus'd
The Rest all lies, of force you must perceive;
'Tis all before your Eyes, and in your Hands.
Nor Any do I blame: What Courage could,
Has been perform'd; and all the Realm engag'd
With it's whole Body, and it's utmost Pow'rs.
Now (mark me well) what Purpose to my Thoughts
Doubtful occurs, in brief I will unfold.
A Tract of Land I have near Tyber's Stream,
Stretch'd to the West beyond Sicania's Bounds;
Th'Aurunci and the Rutuli with Shares
Manure the stubborn Hills, and sow the Glebe,

308

And turn to Pasture what rejects the Plough.
Be all This Region, and the piny Sides
Of the tall Mountain to the Trojans giv'n,
Gage of our Friendship: Let our selves propose
The equal Terms of Peace; and to our Realms
Invite them as Allies: Here let them fix,
(If such their strong Desire) and found their Walls.
But if to other Nations, other Coasts
They would repair, and can withdraw from Ours;
With Latian Timber let us build them Ships,
Twenty, or more; if more their Need requires.
Along the River all Materials lie;
The Size and Number let Themselves prescribe:
Be Ours the Cost, the Work, and Naval Stores.
What farther I propose, is to dispatch
An hundred chos'n Ambassadors, the Chief
Of Latian Peers, these Offers to convey,
With Olive in their Hands, and firm the League:
Presents of Gold, and Iv'ry let them bear,
The Chair, and Robe, the Ensigns of our State.
Do You with Prudence for the Publick Good
Consult; and succour our distress'd Affairs.

Then Drances, He whom Turnus' Glory stung

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With oblique Envy, and the Goads of Spight;
Potent in Wealth, more potent with his Tongue;
But of a cold, unactive Hand in War:
In Policy no weak Adviser deem'd;
Mighty in Factions: By his Mother's Side
Of noble Birth, of doubtful by his Sire's:
He rises, and with Virulence of Words
Thus Turnus loads, and irritates their Rage.

What You propose, great King, has nought obscure;

310

Nor needs our Suffrage: All confess they know
The true Expedient which the State requires;
But fear to speak their Thoughts. Let Him permit
Freedom of Speech, and moderate his Vaunts;
By whose unlucky Conduct and whose Crimes
(Nay I will speak, tho' Arms and present Death
He menaces) we see so many Lights
Of Latium quench'd, so many Leaders fall'n,
And all the City weeping on the Ground:
While hov'ring he surveys the Trojan Camp,
Trusting in Flight, and braves the Sky with Arms.

311

To all Those Presents, which You, Best of Kings,
Send to the Trojans, be One added more:
Unmov'd by any Violence, or Threats,
Give to a worthy Son the Royal Bride;
And by That lasting Pledge confirm the Peace.
But if so great a Terrour awes our Minds;
Himself we will implore, and from Himself
Intreat This Favour: Let him to the King,
And to his Country yield their proper Rights.
O Thou, the Head, and Source of all This Woe
To Latium; Why so oft dost thou expose
Our wretched Citizens to Toils and Death?
No Safety is in War: To Thee for Peace,
Turnus, we sue, and for it's certain Pledge.
Lo! I the first, whom Thou wilt have thy Foe,
(Nor am I careful to renounce That Name)

312

I suppliant come: Commiserate thy Friends;
Abate thy Fire; and routed quit the Field:
Enough of Blood and Slaughter have we seen,
And desolated the wide Regions round.
Or if by Thirst of Glory thou art warm'd;
If so much Courage harbours in thy Breast,
And so much Love of Empire for thy Dow'r:
Advance in Fight, and obvious meet the Foe.
Forsooth, that Turnus may espouse a Queen;
We, viler Lives, a Rabble, uninterr'd,
And undeplor'd, must perish in the War:
Do Thou, if any Spirit in That Breast,
If any of thy Country's Mars is lodg'd,
Exert thy self; and look Him in the Face,
Who dares thee to the Field.

These Words the Violence of Turnus fir'd:

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Deeply he groan'd; and from his inmost Soul
With Indignation Thus the Hero spoke.

Great is your Volubility of Speech,
Drances, 'tis own'd: Then always, when the War
Demands our Arms, and when the Fathers meet,
You first are present. But 'tis now no Time
To fill the Court with Words, which fly from You
With mighty Noise in Safety: when our Walls
With Bulwarks keep the Enemy at Bay,
Nor foam our Trenches with a Tide of Blood.
Then thunder Thou, as usual, with thy Bolts
Of Eloquence: And Me do Thou arraign
Of Cowardise, Thou, Drances; when Thy Hand

314

Such Heaps of slaughter'd Trojans shall have rais'd,
And all with Martial Trophys deck'd the Fields.
What your redoubted Valour can perform
You now may try: Nor need we seek the Foes
At distance; They besiege our Walls around.
March we adverse? Why This Delay in Thee?
Shall all Thy Mars in That loud blustring Tongue,
And in the Swiftness of Those coward Feet
Consist for ever?
I routed? Who, degen'rate Wretch, on Me
Will fix That Brand; who thinks on Tyber's Stream
Frothing and swoln with Floods of Trojan Gore,
And all Evander's Race upon the Ground
Fall'n prostrate, and th'Arcadians stripp'd of Arms?
Bitias, and Pandarus, of Giant-Bulk,
Found Me not routed; nor Those Thousand more,
Whom, Victor, in one Day I sent to Hell,
Hem'd round with Foes, and pent within their Walls.
No Safety is in War? Go, Fool, and preach
Such Maxims to the Trojan, and Thy Friends:

315

Cease not with panick Fear t'embroil our State,
Extol the Strength of a twice vanquish'd Race,
And lessen and depress Latinus' Arms.
Just now, 'tis found, the Myrmidonian Lords,
Tydides, and the Larissæan Chief
Achilles, trembled at the Phrygian Arms:
And, flying from the Adriatick Waves,
Affrighted Aufidus rolls back his Stream.
Now too the Miscreant my pretended Crimes

316

Embitters, with his own dissembled Fear
Of my Revenge: A Soul like That (dismiss
Thy Terrour) by This Hand thou ne'er shalt lose;
There let it dwell, and in That Breast remain.

To You, great Monarch, and to your Debates
I now return. If You no more repose
Hope in our Arms; If by one Battle lost
We perish Whole, and Fortune knows no Change;
Let us beg Peace, and stretch our Hands unarm'd.
(Yet Oh! did any of our pristine Worth

317

And Vertue still remain; That Man to Me
Would in his glorious Toils most bless'd appear,
Who rather than behold a Thing like This,
Fell once for all, and dying bit the Ground.)
But if a Force entire to us is left
Still in Reserve, and Latian Towns, and States
Auxiliary; If Glory to our Foes
Came purchas'd at a vast Expence of Blood;
If They too have their Fun'rals; And thro' all
The Tempest rag'd with equal Fury; Why
Faint we inglorious in the first Attempt,
And shrink with Fear before the Trumpet's Sound?

318

Oft has Vicissitude of changeful Time
By various Turns to better State restor'd
Distress'd Affairs: Many with pleasing Sport
Fortune, alternately revisiting,
Has mock'd, and on a solid Base repos'd.
Will not Ætolian Arpi give us Aid?
Yet will Messapus, and Tolumnius lov'd
By Fortune, and the Chiefs whom various States
Have hither sent: Nor small will be the Fame
Of Those in Latium and Laurentum rais'd.
These of the Volscian Race Camilla joins,
Leading her Horse-Brigade, and Troops with Brass
Refulgent. But if Me alone for Fight
The Trojans claim; If That be Here resolv'd;
And I so much obstruct the common Good:
Not so has Conquest with Aversion fled
These Hands of Mine, that aught I would refuse
To enterprize for so sublime a Hope.
Undaunted will I march to meet the Foe;
Tho' He a Second great Achilles prove,

319

Arm'd, like the First, with Panoply Divine
By Vulcan forg'd. To You, and to the King
Latinus, Father of my Royal Bride,
I Turnus, nought inferiour in my Fame
To our great Ancestors, This Life devote:
Me only dares Æneas? Dare he still:
And let not Drances, whate'er Wrath of Heav'n
Impends, or whate'er Glory may be won,
Sustain the first, nor bear away the last.

Thus They on doubtful Schemes debating strove;
Æneas march'd his Army from the Camp.
Lo! rushing thro' the Court with frantick Haste
A Messenger with Terrour fills the Town;
Relates, that in Array of Battle rang'd
The Trojans and the Tyrrhene Troops descend
From Tyber's Stream, and cover all the Plain.
Forthwith their Minds with stimulating Rage
Are stung, confus'd: To Arms, To Arms, they cry:
The madding Multitude, and Warriour Youth
Together rave: The pensive Fathers weep,
And murmur unresolv'd: To Heav'n ascends
A Clamour of Dissent, and various Noise.
As when on some tall Wood the flocking Birds

320

Alight: Or in the fishy Stream of Po
Loquacious Swans with clatt'ring Pinions sound.
Yes, now Ye Citizens, brave Turnus cry'd,
(Snatching th'Occasion) is the Time to sit
In Council, and harangue in Praise of Peace:
By War They rush to Empire. More than This
He spoke not, but with rapid Speed forsook
The Court, and from the lofty Hall withdrew.
Thou, Volusus, he cry'd, command to Arms
The Volscian Troops; and to the Battle lead
The Rutuli: Do Thou, Messapus, pour
The Horse into the Field: And join'd with Thee
Let Coras, with his Brother, range the Fight:
Let Others guard the Passes of the Town,
And man the Tow'rs: The rest where I command
On Me shall wait, and with Me dare in Arms.

Strait to the Works from all the City round
They croud: Latinus' self the Council leaves;
And, with the Tumult of the Times perplex'd,
Adjourns th'important Business of the State:
And much himself accuses, that long since
He had not in the strict Alliance join'd
Æneas, and as Son-in-law receiv'd.
Others dig Trenches deep before the Gates,
And roll vast Stones, and Palisadoes fix:

321

The Trumpet with shrill Clangor to the Fight
The bloody Signal sounds: The Dames, and Boys
In a promiscuous Throng the Ramparts crown;
The last of Labours calls them all to War.
Mean-while the Queen to Pallas' stately Dome
Amidst a num'rous Quire of Matrons, rode,
And Off'rings bore; Lavinia by her Side,
The Royal Virgin; Cause of all their Woe;
Her beauteous Eyes cast down, and bent on Earth.
The Matrons follow; and with Incense sweet
Perfume the Temple; and with mournful Sound
Thus from the stately Entrance breathe their Pray'r.
Tritonian Virgin, Arbitress of War,
Break with Thy Hand the Phrygian Pirate's Lance;
And Him lay prone extended on the Ground,
And roll his Trunk beneath the lofty Gates.

Turnus himself arms, furious, for the Fight;
In his Rutulian Corslet clad, and rough
With brazen Scales, he sheaths his Legs in Gold,
His Head yet bare; then buckles to his Side
His faithful Sword; from the high Fort runs down,
And shines all o'er in Gold; with Martial Pride
Exulting, and in Hope prevents the Foe.

So, loose with broken Reins, the sprightly Steed

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Flies from his Stall, and gains the open Field;
Or to the Pastures, and the Female-Herd
He bends his Course; or to the wonted Stream,
To bathe his Limbs: He neighs, and bounds from Earth
Luxuriant, prancing, with his Chest erect,
And Head high toss'd in Air: His waving Mane
Flows on his Neck, and o'er his Shoulder plays.

Him obvious with her Volscian Squadron meets
Camilla, Warriour Queen; and from her Steed,
In the first Entrance of the Gate, alights:
By her Example, all the Troop to Earth,
Quitting their Horses, slide: Then thus she speaks.

Turnus, if aught of Confidence the Brave
With Justice may assume; I dare to meet,
And promise to engage th'Æneian Lines,
And single to oppose the Tyrrhene Horse.
Let me first try the Perils of the War;
Stand Thou in Arms on foot, and guard the Walls.

Fixing his Eyes upon the wond'rous Maid,
Turnus replies: O Thou, the Pride and Boast

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Of Latium, matchless Nymph; What Thanks to Thee
Can I repay? Since now That Spirit soars
Above all Dangers; share Thy Toils with Mine.
Æneas, (so my Scouts and Fame report)
Has sent his light-arm'd Horse to scour the Fields:
Himself along the desart Mountain's Top
Advancing hastes, and marches to the Town.
Now in the hollow Passes of the Wood
An Ambush I prepare, and to beset
With an arm'd Force the narrow double Ways.
Do Thou in Fight sustain the Tyrrhene Horse:
Thee brave Messapus, and the Latin Troops,
And Tyburs shall attend: Be Thou their Chief.

He said; and rous'd Messapus to the Fight;
And all the Leaders with like Ardour fir'd:
Then marches opposite, and seeks the Foe.

Deep in a winding Tract a Valley lies,
Well form'd for Ambush, and the Frauds of War,
On ev'ry side with gloomy Boughs inclos'd;
To which a slender Path, thro' narrow Jaws,
(A difficult, malignant Passage) leads:

324

High on the Mountain's Top a secret Plain,
And safe Retreat, there lies: Or to the right,
Or to the left, from thence you may engage,
Obvious in Fight; or standing on the Ridge
Roll Stones and rocky Fragments on the Foe.
Hither the Youthful Hero march'd his Force,
Thro' the known Ways; with Expedition seiz'd
The Post, and in th'uneven Thickets lay.

Mean-while Diana in the Seats above
Swift Opis calls, one of her sacred Train,
And chosen Virgins; and with mournful Voice
Thus speaks. To cruel War Camilla goes,
O Nymph, and buckles on our Arms in vain;
Dear above all to Me: Nor late, or new
Is This Affection in Diana's Breast;
Nor sprang it from a sudden sweet Surprize.
When Metabus, ejected from his Realm,
And from Privernum's ancient City, fled
Prevailing Faction, and rebellious Rage;

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An Infant thro' the Foes, and Arms he bore,
Companion of his Exile; and her Name
Camilla call'd: Casmilla was his Queen's,
Thus to his Daughter with small Change transferr'd.
Her bearing in his Bosom, to the Cliffs
And solitary Woods he took his Way:
The hostile Darts encompass'd him around,
And the arm'd Volscians hover'd o'er the Field.
Lo! in the Middle of his Flight, the Stream
Of Amasenus foam'd above it's Banks;
So great a Show'r had burst the bellying Clouds.
Love of his Child, as he prepares to swim,
Retards him; for his darling Charge he fears:
Turning on ev'ry Side his shifting Thoughts,
This sudden Resolution he approves.
A pond'rous Jav'lin in his warlike Hand,

326

Solid with Knots and strong tough Oak, he bore:
To This he binds the Child, in silvan Cork
Inclos'd, with Osiers, and the Rind of Trees,
And fitted to the Middle of the Spear;
Which poising in his Hand, he Thus address'd
His Suit to Heav'n. Auspicious Queen of Woods,
Latonia, Virgin-Goddess, grant my Pray'r:
To Thee the Father's self his Daughter vows
Thy Servant; She, thy Weapon grasping first,
Flies thro' the Air, thy Suppliant, from the Foe:
Accept thy Own, great Goddess, I implore,
Just now committed to th'uncertain Winds.
This said; with Arm swung-back he hurl'd the Spear:
The River sounds; and o'er it's rapid Stream
Camilla with the whistling Jav'lin flies.
But Metabus, more closely now pursu'd,
Plunges into the Waves; and, having gain'd
His wish'd Design, his Jav'lin, with the Child
Sacred to Trivia, from the grassy Turf,
Wrenching, releases. Him within their Gates,
Or hospitable Walls, no Towns receiv'd:
Nor would himself, so fierce his Soul, have yielded
With Them t'associate. On the lonely Hills

327

In Solitude a Shepherd's Life he chose:
Here, in the Brakes, and savage Dens of Beasts,
He nurs'd his Daughter from the Dugs of Mares,
Milking their Teats into her tender Lips.
Soon as the Infant first with doubtful Feet
Could press the Ground; her little Hands he fill'd
With pointed Darts, and on her Shoulder hung
A Bow, and Quiver. No soft Caul of Gold
Her Tresses strains; nor flows her waving Gown:
Instead of These a Tyger's horrid Hide
Hangs from her Head, and o'er her Back descends.
Darts with her tender Hand ev'n Then she threw;
And, whirling round her Head a sounding Sling,
Struck a Strymonian Crane, or snow-white Swan.
Her many Matrons o'er the Tyrrhene Towns
Attempted with their Sons to match in vain:
She, with Diana's Love alone content,
(Love undecaying, and confirm'd by Time)
Her Shafts, and her Virginity preserves,
Inviolate. Well for her had it been,
Had she been less in love with such a War;
And much I wish she never had engag'd
In This Attempt, to dare the Trojan Pow'rs.
My Fav'rite Nymph, and in my Virgin Train

328

She might have liv'd. But now, since urg'd she goes
By Fates unequal; Slide Thou from the Pole,
And visit Latium's Confines, where the Fight
Ill-omen'd rages: These my Weapons take,
And from the Quiver draw th'avenging Shaft;
With This let whosoe'er shall with a Wound
(Or Trojan, or Italian let Him prove)
That sacred Body violate, to Me
Pay the exacted Forfeit with his Blood.
Then in a hollow Cloud her Corps, and Arms,
(Poor hapless Maid!) unplunder'd by the Foe,
I to her native Country will convey;
And hide them in a Tomb. The Goddess spoke:
The Nymph, involv'd in a black Whirlwind, flew
Thro' the light Air, and sounded from the Sky.

Mean-while the Trojan Squadron to the Town
Approaches, and th'Etrurian Chiefs, and all

329

The Army of the Horse, compos'd in Troops
By certain Numbers rang'd: O'er all the Field
The bounding Coursers struggle with the Bit,
Now This, now That way turn'd, and neigh aloud:
A Wood of Jav'lins rises; and the Plain
Glows dreadful with the iron Gleam of Arms.

330

Nor less Messapus, and the swift Brigade
Of Latins, and the Nymph Camilla's Wing,
And Coras, with his Brother, on the Field
Stand opposite; with Hands drawn back protend
Their threatning Spears, and shake their brandish'd Darts.
The Noise of trampling Feet, and neighing Steeds
Burns in the Air, and nearer rolls the Fight.
Now within Jav'lin's Reach both Armys stood;
Loud with a sudden Shout in Onset fierce
They rush amain, and rouse their thund'ring Steeds:
Thick as a Storm of Snow their Arrows pour,
And darken all the Sky. Tyrrhenus first,
And brave Aconteus join the horrid Clash

331

Of Conflict; and advance with hostile Spears,
And mighty Sound, exerting all their Force:
With Breast to Breast oppos'd their Coursers meet,
And almost rive each other in the Shock.
Aconteus, from his Seat dismounted, falls
Like Lightning, or a Stone's unwieldy Weight
Shot from an Engine; At a distance thrown
He falls, and breathes his Soul dispers'd in Air.
Forthwith the Lines disorder'd croud: And turn'd
In Flight the Latins cast their Shields behind;
And spur their smoking Horses to the Town.
The Trojans urge the Chace; Asylas Chief
Leads on the Troops: They now approach'd the Gates;
The Latins in their Turn, with deaf'ning Shout,
Wheel round their Steeds, and bend their pliant Necks:
The Trojans fly, and slack the waving Reins.
As when the Ocean, with alternate Tide,
Now rushes to the Beach, and o'er the Rocks
Tosses the Waves, and to th'extremest Sand
Dashes it's curling Foam: Now refluent rolls
With rapid Ebb, sucks back the rattling Stones,
Flies from the Shelves, and naked leaves the Shore.

332

Twice to their Walls the Tuscans drove in Flight
The Rutuli; Twice, cover'd with their Shields,
Themselves look back, and see the Foes pursue.
But when, engaging in the Third Assault,
All Battle join'd, and Man to Man oppos'd:
Then dying Groans are heard; And drown'd in Gore
Arms, Bodys, gasping Steeds, and slaughter'd Men
Promiscuous roll: A rigid Fight ensues.
Orsilochus against the warriour Horse
Of Remulus (Himself he durst not meet)
Darted a Lance, and left beneath his Ear
The sticking Point: Impatient of the Wound,
The raging Steed uprears his Breast erect,
And paws in Air: His Lord dismounted rolls
To Earth. Catillus strikes Iölas dead,
And great Herminius, great in Soul, and Arms,
And Body; Yellow was his Hair, his Head
And Shoulders naked: Him no Wounds affright;
So full, and large a Mark he stands expos'd.

333

Thro' his broad Shoulders flies the trembling Spear;
And doubles him, contracted with the Pain.
Black Gore flows all around: With mortal Rage
They scatter Wounds, and meet the glorious Death.

But in the Midst the Amazonian Maid,
Camilla, with her Shafts, and Quiver storms,
Exulting, fierce among the slaughter'd Heaps,
With one Breast bare commodious for the Fight:
Now hurls repeated Jav'lins, now with Toil,
Unweary'd snatches her well-temper'd Axe:
Her gilded Bow, and all Diana's Arms
Sound from her Shoulder. Ev'n, when turn'd in Flight,
(If e'er she turn) her Arrows she directs
Shot backward, and behind her bends the Bow.
Her choicest Virgins near her Person ride,
Larina, Tulla, and Tarpeia brave
Shaking her brazen Axe, Italian Nymphs;
Whom for her self divine Camilla chose,
Her Grace, and Ministry, in Peace, or War.
As when the Thracian Amazons, engag'd

334

In Conflict, beat Thermodon's sounding Banks,
And shine in painted Arms: Or round their Chief
Hippolyte: Or when the Martial Queen
Penthesilea in her Car returns:
And with a mighty Shout, and Tumult rais'd,
The Female Troops exult with lunar Shields.

Who first, Who last in Battle, Warlike Maid,
Sinks by thy Dart? How many on the Ground
Extendest Thou in Death? Eumenius first,
The Son of Clytius; whose uncover'd Breast
Adverse she with a Length of pointed Fir
Transfixes: Vomiting a Sea of Blood
He falls, and dying bites the gory Soil,
Tumbles on Earth, and welters in his Wound.
Then Liris next, and Pagasus she kills:
The first, while rolling from his wounded Steed
He gathers up the Reins; the last, to Him
Off'ring his Aid, and stretching, as he sinks,
His ling'ring Hand: Both prone together fall.
To These in Death she joins Amastrus, Son
Of Hippotas: And with her Lance pursues
Tereus, Harpalycus, Demophoön,
And Chromis; Them, incumbent on their Rear
She presses close. As many Darts as flew
Shot from the Virgin's Hand, so many Youths
Of Phrygia fall. On his Apulian Steed
The Hunter Ornitus at distance rides,
In Arms unknown: His warlike Shoulders broad
By a Bull's Hide are cover'd; o'er his Head
With their white Teeth a Wolf's vast yawning Jaws
Grin fierce; a rustick Halbert arms his Hands:

335

Himself amidst the thickest Troops appears,
And by the Head entire o'ertops them all.
Him met in Fight (for easy was the Task,
The Troop now disarray'd) she pierces thro',
And o'er him Thus with bitter Accent speaks.
Tuscan, Didst thou conceive thy self in Woods
Hunting thy wonted Game? The Day is come,
Which by a Woman's Arms refels your Boast:
Yet to thy Ancestors' departed Shades
This Solace, no small Glory, shalt thou bear;
'Tis to Camilla's Dart thou ow'st thy Death.
Forthwith Orsilochus, and Butes, Both
Trojans of mightiest Stature, she invades:
But Butes with a Dart she strikes adverse,
Betwixt his Casque, and Corslet; where his Neck
Shines, as he rides; and where his Target hangs
From his left Shoulder. With dissembled Flight

336

In a wide Ring, interiour, wheeling round
She mocks Orsilochus, and Him pursues,
From whom she flies: Then rising to the Blows
Redoubled, thro' his Arms and Bones she drives
Her massy Axe, nor aught regards his Pray'rs;
From the warm Wound his Brains besmear his Face.

The Son of Aunus next, Ligurian Lord,
Inhabitant of Apenninus' Mount,
Met her in Arms, and at the sudden Sight
Startled repress'd his Steps. He not the last
Of That deceiving Race, while Fate allow'd
His Wiles to prove successful, when he saw
That by no Flight he could decline the War,
Nor any way avert the raging Queen;
By Art, and Fraud attempts her, and Thus speaks.
What mighty Praise is Thine, if thou confide,

337

A Female Warriour, in That bulky Horse?
Dismiss thy Flight, and hand to hand engage
On equal Ground with Me; Thou soon shalt know
To which of Us vain Boasts will fatal prove.
He said; She, gall'd, and with such Taunts incens'd,
To her Attendant gives her Steed, and stands
With her drawn Sword on foot in equal Arms,
And fearless bears aloft her maiden Shield.
The Youth, supposing he had gain'd by Fraud
His wish'd Design, swift turns the waving Reins,
With his arm'd Heel his fiery Courser gores,
Rapid in Flight, and scours along the Field.
In vain, Ligurian Boaster, hast thou try'd
Thy Country's slipp'ry Arts, with proud Conceit
Puff'd up in vain; nor shall This study'd Wile
Thee to fallacious Aunus safe restore.

So spake the Virgin; and with wingy Feet,
Which kindled, as she flew, outstrips the Steed,
Stands to his Head oppos'd, and grasps the Reins,
And gluts her vengeful Rage with hostile Gore.
Not with more Ease the sacred Bird of Mars,

338

The Faulcon, from a lofty Cliff pursues
A Dove sublime in Air, and gripes her seiz'd,
And scoops her Entrails with his hooky Claws;
Torn Plumes and Blood fall mingled from the Sky.

But not with unobserving Eyes, from Heav'n,
The Sire of Men and Gods these Things beholds,
Enthron'd aloft: Etrurian Tarchon's Rage
He irritates, and goads him to the Fight.
Therefore amidst the Slaughter, where the Troops
Yielding give way, fierce Tarchon spurs his Steed,
With various Speech excites them, calls aloud
On each by Name, and rallys them to War.
O void of all Resentment, whom no Wrongs
Can move, Ye ever stupid Tuscans; Whence
This Panick? Whence such Cowardise of Soul?
A Woman drives you straggling, and defeats
These Squadrons: Wherefore hold you in your Hands
Those Swords, and those unprofitable Darts?
But not to Venus, and nocturnal Wars
Are You such Recreants; nor so listless watch
The Bacchanalian Revels, when Those Feasts
The crooked Pipe of Bacchus has proclaim'd,

339

(This is your Love, your Study, and Delight)
'Till the auspicious Augur's Voice declares
The sacred Rites begun, and Victims slain
Invite you, with their Fat, and pamper'd Flesh,
Into the deep Recesses of the Grove.

This said, into the Midst he spurs his Steed,
Turbid with Rage, and bent, Himself, on Death;
Full against Venulus he justling drives,
With his Right hand, embracing, grasps his Foe,
And tugs him from his Steed, and in his Lap
Bears him away, impetuous o'er the Field.
A Shout to Heav'n is rais'd; The Latin Troops
All That way bend their Eyes: Swift o'er the Plain
Flies fiery Tarchon, bearing off his Prey,
The Warriour and his Arms. Then breaks the Point
Short from his Spear; and all around explores
The most unguarded Part, which best might take
The mortal Wound: The other from his Throat,
Struggling and twisting with defensive Force,
Wards off the Blow, and Strength with Strength eludes.

As when the tawny Eagle, tow'ring high,
Sticks with her griping Talons in a Snake,
And snatches him aloft: He wounded writhes
His tortuous Volumes, and with stiffen'd Scales

340

Stares horrid; hisses loud, and in the Air
Erects his threat'ning Head: She not the less
Plies him, reluctant, with her hooky Beak,
And with her sounding Pinions beats the Sky.

So Tarchon bears from the Tiburtian Troop
His Prey, triumphant. Rais'd with That Success,
And following th'Example of their Chief,
The Lydians rush. Then Aruns, due to Fate,
Round swift Camilla with his Jav'lin wheels,
Insidious; and what Fortune would present
Easiest, explores. Where-e'er the raging Maid
Thro' the mid Squadron moves, still Aruns close
Attends her, silent, and her Steps observes.
Where-e'er Victorious she returns, and quits
The vanquish'd Foe; he thither bends his Reins
With Secresy and Speed: Now These, now Those
Approaches tries; runs all the Circuit round;
And shakes, malignant, his unerring Spear.

Sacred to Cybele, and once her Priest,

341

Chloreus, by chance, all bright in Phrygian Arms,
At distance shone, and spurr'd his foaming Steed:
The Steed rich Trappings cloath'd, compact with Scales
Of Brass, and Gold, like Feathers wrought: Himself
Gaudy in Purple, and Barbaric Dye,
Shot Lycian Arrows from a Cretian Bow;
The sounding Bow, which from his Shoulders hung,

342

Glitter'd with Gold; And golden was the Helm
That deck'd his priestly Head; His saffron Cloak,
And Linen-Folds, which rattled, as He mov'd,
With yellow Gold he in a Knot confin'd;
With Needle-work embroider'd were his Robes,
And Asian Cuisses, that his Thighs inclos'd.
Him the Heroick Maid, o'er all the Field,
Uncautious sought, on Him alone intent;
That to the Temple's Roof she might affix
The Trojan Arms; or, Huntress, ride adorn'd
And proud with captive Gold: Thro' all the Troops
Him eager she pursues; and thoughtless burns
With female Love of Trophys, and gay Spoils.
Aruns, This wish'd Occasion having gain'd,
At length, his Jav'lin from his Covert throws,
And suppliant Thus to Heav'n directs his Pray'r.

Supreme of Gods, Apollo, who thy Hill
Sacred Soracte, Guardian, dost defend;
Whom We the first adore; for whom we feed
The Fire in piny Piles; and thro' That Fire,
Safe in our Piety, and fearless, walk,
Thy Worshippers, and tread on burning Coals:
Grant me, Almighty Father, by my Arms
This Blot, this foul Dishonour to remove.

343

Rich Spoils, or Trophys from the conquer'd Maid
I seek not; Fame my other Deeds shall give:
Let This dire Pest fall vanquish'd by my Wound;
Inglorious to my Country I'll return.

Apollo heard; and part of his Request
He granted, part dispers'd in fleeting Air.
That with a sudden Death he should surprize
Camilla, was indulg'd: That He return'd
Should see his Native Country, was deny'd;
And born by Winds the scatter'd Accents flew.
Therefore when, darted from his Hand, the Lance
Sung thro' the Sky; the startled Host perceiv'd
The Sound; and all the Volscians to the Queen
Quick turn'd their Eyes: Herself nor aught regards
The whizzing Air, nor heeds the coming Dart;
'Till deep infix'd beneath her naked Pap

344

The Weapon stuck, and drank her virgin Blood.
Around their Mistress her Attendants run
Trembling, and catch her, falling, in their Arms:
But, more than all affrighted, Aruns flies,
With mingled Joy, and Fear; and now no more
Durst in his Lance confide, or obvious meet
The Virgin's Darts. So flies the guilty Wolf,
Red with the Slaughter of a lofty Bull,
Or Shepherd; To avoid pursuing Spears,
He flies; and, conscious of th'audacious Fact,
Close to his Belly, cow'ring, claps his Tail;
Seeks the high Hills, and devious lurks in Woods.
So Aruns from all Eyes himself withdraws
In wild Confusion; and, content with Flight,

345

Plunges amidst the Host. She dying tugs
The sticking Jav'lin: But between the Bones,
In the deep Wound, fix'd stands the pointed Steel:
All pale she sinks; her cold Eyes sink in Death;
And from her Cheeks the rosy Colour flies.
Then Thus, expiring, Acca she bespeaks,

346

Her best lov'd Friend, and Partner of her Cares:
Thus far I could, my Sister Acca; Now
My Life-Blood issues thro' the aking Wound;
And all things swim in Mists before my Eyes.
Haste, and to Turnus These last Mandates bear;
Let him succeed to Battle, and repel
The Trojans from the Town. And now Adieu.
So saying, from her slacken'd Hand she drops
The Reins; and not spontaneous flows to Earth;
Cold by degrees she sobs her Life away;
Reclines her hanging Neck, and heavy Head,
Leaving her Arms: And to the Shades below
With Indignation flies her groaning Soul.

Forthwith a Clamour beats the golden Stars,

347

Immense, increasing: By Camilla's Death
The Fight recruited with fresh Fury burns.
All rush together, all the Trojan Force,
The Tyrrhene Leaders, and Evander's Wings.
Opis mean-while, the Nymph of Trivia's Train,
Sits on a Hill; and fearless views the Fight.
When She, amidst the Tumult of the War,
Beheld Camilla with a cruel Wound
Pale and expiring; from her inmost Breast
Deeply she groan'd, and Thus the Goddess spoke.

Alas! poor Nymph, a Penance too severe!
Too rigorous a Forfeit hast Thou paid,
For Thus presuming to provoke in Arms
The Trojan Pow'rs. Nor Thee avail'd it aught,
Lonely in savage Thickets to have liv'd
Diana's Servant, and our Quivers worn.
Yet Thee thy Mistress in th'Extremes of Death
Inglorious will not leave: Nor shall thy Fall
Uncelebrated thro' the Nations prove,
Or unreveng'd. For whosoe'er he be,
Who with a Wound thy Body has profan'd;
Death is the Penalty for That Offence.

Beneath a lofty Hill, a Bust there stood
Of high-rais'd Earth; for King Dercennus rear'd,
Ancient Laurentian King; and cover'd o'er
With gloomy Oak. Here first with rapid Flight
The Goddess takes her Stand; and from the Tomb
Aruns surveys. When Him she saw in Arms
Glitt'ring, and vainly swelling with Success:
Why That way? Hither turn thy Steps, she said;
Come hither, doom'd to perish; and receive

348

The due Reward Camilla's Death demands:
Shalt Thou too die by great Diana's Darts?

She said; and from her golden Quiver took
A feather'd Shaft, and bent her vengeful Bow;
Bent it, 'till both the crooked Horns were join'd,
And met each other; her left Hand at once
Touching the Point, her right, and the tough Nerve
Strain'd to her Breast. Forthwith the sounding Air,
And Hissing of the Weapon Aruns heard,
And in his Body felt the sticking Steel.
Him, tumbled in thick Smoke upon the Plain,
Groaning his last, and sobbing out his Soul,
His Friends, unmindful, leave in Dust unknown:
Opis to high Olympus speeds her Flight.

Their Queen thus slain, first flies Camilla's Wing

349

Light-arm'd; The Rutuli confounded fly,
And brave Atinas, and the scatter'd Chiefs,
And broken Troops: To safer Posts they run,
And spur their foaming Steeds to reach the Town.
Nor now can any Force in Arms sustain
The Trojans, pressing, and dispensing Death;
Or stand oppos'd: But languid back they bear
Their Bows unbent, and o'er their Shoulders slung;
And the swift Horses shake the putrid Soil
With sounding Hoofs. A turbid Cloud of Dust
Rolls to the City: On the lofty Tow'rs
The Matrons stand, and to th'ethereal Stars
Raise female Cries; and frantick beat their Breasts.
With Those who thro' the open Gates first croud
Into the Town, a mingled Throng of Foes
Together presses: Nor a cruel Death
Do they escape; but ev'n within their Walls,
Their Houses, and beneath their native Roofs,
Transfix'd expire their Souls. Some shut the Gates;
Nor durst permit their own imploring Friends
To enter: Those with Arms the Passes guard,
These rush against those Arms; Among them all,
A Slaughter vast and terrible ensues.
Others, before their weeping Parents' Eyes,

350

Excluded, by the Rout, and Ruin urg'd,
Down the steep Trenches leap: With loosen'd Reins
Some forward spur their Steeds, and blindly tilt
Against the Gates, the Bars, and solid Posts.
The trembling Dames themselves, when they beheld
Camilla, by their Country's Love inspir'd
Hurl Weapons from the Ramparts; pointed Oak,
Harden'd with Fire, and sharpen'd Stakes they use
Instead of Steel: Precipitant they run,
In This last Conflict foremost tempt their Fate,
And first dare perish in the Town's Defence.

Mean-while to Turnus, in the Woods, convey'd
The dismal Tidings came, and fill'd his Soul
With Tumult: Acca to the Youth relates
That all the Volscian Squadrons were destroy'd,
Camilla slain, th'insulting Foes march'd on,
Bore all before them with successful War,
And to the Walls the Consternation roll'd.
He furious (so the Will of Jove severe
Ordain'd) forsakes the guarded Hills, and Woods.
Scarce from That Ambush had the Chief retir'd,
And, out of view, descended on the Plain:
When Prince Æneas enter'd with his Troops

351

The open Thickets, the high Mountain's Ridge
O'erpass'd, and issu'd from the gloomy Grove.
So Both, with rapid Haste, and all their Pow'rs,
Together march, and strive to reach the Walls:
And now but little Space between them lies.
Soon as Æneas saw the distant Fields
Smoking with Dust, and all th'Ausonian Host;
And Turnus knew Æneas dire in Arms;
And heard the thund'ring Hoofs, and snorting Steeds;
Forthwith they had engag'd, and Battle join'd:
Had not the rosy Sun in Western Waves
(The Day declining) plung'd his weary Car,
And brought returning Night. They pitch their Tents
Encamp'd, and lie intrench'd before the Town.

The End of the Eleventh Book.

352

BOOK the Twelfth.

367

When Turnus saw the harrass'd Latins faint
With unsuccessful War; his Promise claim'd;
Himself mark'd out, and by all Eyes observ'd:
Conscious of inborn Worth he burns with Rage
Implacable, and rouses all his Fire.
The lordly Lion Thus, on Libya's Plains,
Gor'd by the Hunter's Spear within his Breast

368

Infix'd, at length springs furious to the Fight,
And shakes with dreadful Pride his shaggy Mane;
Intrepid snaps the sticking Dart, and roars,
And foams with bloody Mouth. No less incens'd
Fierce Turnus storms, He then accosts the King,
And Thus gives Vent to his disorder'd Thoughts.

In Turnus there is no Delay; no Cause
For which the Coward Trojans should retract
The Challenge they have sent: I dare the Fight:
Perform, great King, the Sacrifice requir'd,
And ratify the League. Or This Right hand
Shall send to Hell the Dardan Renegade,
Asia's Deserter, (Let the Latins sit
Spectators:) and my single Sword refel
The Imputation of our common Crime;
Or He possess us conquer'd, and to Him
The Royal Bride Lavinia be resign'd.

To whom Latinus Thus sedate replies.
O gallant Youth; The more thy Valour boils

369

Exuberant, the more it me concerns
With Prudence to advise, and fearing weigh
All Hazards. Thee thy Father Daunus' Realms,
And many Cities vanquish'd by thy Arms,
Attend, to own thy Sway; Latinus too
Has Wealth, and Counsel, and his People's Love.
Other unwedded Virgins, and in Birth
Not unillustrious, Latium's Regions boast.
Do Thou permit me, free from guileful Arts,
To open Truths not pleasing to be told;
And fix them in thy Mind. The Pow'rs Divine

370

Allow'd me not to join my Daughter's Hands
With any Latian Prince; and That Decree
All Gods and Men unanimous declar'd.
O'er-pow'r'd by Love of Thee, by kindred Blood
O'er-pow'r'd, and by my mourning Consort's Tears,
All sacred Ties I violated; broke
The Faith I plighted to her destin'd Lord;
And took up impious Arms. Since That, what Woes,
What Wars have still pursu'd me, what thy self,
As Chief, hast suffer'd, Turnus, well thou know'st:
Two mighty Battles lost, we scarce defend
The Hopes of Latium in This City pent;
Still Tyber's Stream runs smoking with our Blood;
And all the spacious Fields are white with Bones.
Whither so often am I hurry'd back?
What Frenzy This? If after Turnus' Death,
I stand prepar'd t'admit These new Allies;
Why rather end I not the dire Debate,
While yet he lives? On Me what just Reproach
Would by our Kindred of Rutulian Race,
And ev'n by all th'Italian States be cast;
Shouldst Thou (may Heav'n avert the Omen!) fall,
Betray'd to Death by Me; while here thou seek'st
Our long'd-for Nuptials, and my Daughter's Love.

371

Think on the various Chance of doubtful War:
Pity thy aged Father; whom from Thee
His distant City Ardea now divides,
Sad and disconsolate. By This Advice
Nought of his Fire abating, Turnus raves;
And by his Med'cine more distemper'd grows.
Soon as his Faculty of Speech returns,
He Thus persists. Whatever Care for Me
You have conceiv'd, dismiss it, Best of Kings,
For Me, at my Request; and let me stake
My Life for Glory. We too, Father, lance
No ling'ring Spear, no ineffectual Darts;
And from our Wound the Blood is taught to flow.
Him nought his Goddess Mother shall avail,
To skreen him flying in a female Cloud;
And hide her self in unsubstantial Shades.

But, terrify'd with new Alarms of War,
The weeping Queen, already doom'd to Death,
Hung on the ardent Hero. By These Tears
I beg thee, Turnus, grant This one Request;

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If aught of Rev'rence ever touch'd thy Soul
For poor Amata. Thou the only Hope
Art left, the Solace of my wretched Age;
On Thee Latinus' Fame, and Realm, on Thee
The Royal House with all it's Stress reclines.
Forbear; nor urge the Trojans to the Field;
Whatever Fortune waits Thee in the War,
Me too, my Turnus, waits: This hated Light
I soon shall leave; nor in my captive State
My conqu'ring Son-in-law Æneas see.

The fair Lavinia seconds with her Tears

373

Her Mother's Suit; and bathes her glowing Cheeks:
A burning Flush runs o'er her Face diffus'd,
And fires it's Whiteness: As the Crimson Dye
Stains Indian Ivory; Or with the Red
Of mingled Roses snowy Lilies blush:
Such blended Colours o'er her Visage flew.
He, on the Virgin fix'd, and gazing, stands;

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Turbid with Love, he burns for Arms the more;
And to Amata Thus in brief replies.

Send me not, Mother, with ill-boding Tears,
And Omens, to the rigid Toils of Mars:
'Tis not in Turnus to defer his Fate.
Thou, Idmon, to the Phrygian Tyrant bear
(No Joy to Him) This Message. Soon as Morn,
Fresh in her rosie Car, shall paint the Sky;
Let him not lead his Trojans to the Fight:
Let Trojans and Rutulians from their Arms
Desist; His Blood and Mine decide the War;
And in That Field the Royal Bride be gain'd.

This said, with rapid Haste into the Court
He rushes, and demands his Steeds; exults
To see them paw and bound before his Eyes:
Them Orithyia to Pilumnus gave,
(Illustrious Present!) Coursers which surpass'd
The Snow in Whiteness, and in Speed the Winds.
The busy Grooms stand round; and with their Palms

375

Clap their broad Chests, and comb their waving Manes.
Himself his Corslet laces to his Breast
Squalid with Gold and Brass; then fits his Sword,
His Helmet, and his double Crimson Plume;
The Sword which Vulcan for old Daunus made,
And ting'd it hissing in the Stygian Lake.
Next his long Spear, Auruncan Actor's Spoil,
Which, in the Middle of the spacious Court,
Against a lofty Pillar leaning stood,
He grasps; and shakes it quiv'ring in the Air.
Then Thus aloud: O never yet invok'd
By me in vain, Now, trusty Spear, the Time
Is come: Thee mighty Actor once possess'd,
Now Turnus wields. Give me to stretch on Earth
This half-male Phrygian; with my forceful Hand
To tear the Corslet from his Body rent;
And in the Dust to soil his Tresses, curl'd
With crisping Irons, and perfum'd with Oils.

Thus wild he raves; and from his smoking Mouth

376

Burst Sparks of Fire, and Flashes from his Eyes.
So hideous roars the Bull with previous Rage,
And practises the Fight; against an Oak
Whetting his Horns, he pushes empty Air;
And spurns the Sand, preluding to the War.

Nor less Æneas, in Vulcanian Arms
Refulgent, rouses all his Martial Rage,
Rejoicing with a League to end the Strife.
His anxious Friends, and sad Iülus' Fears
He then consoles, recounting Fate's Decree:
His Answer by th'Ambassadors return'd
To King Latinus sends, accepts the Truce,
And fixes the Conditions of the Peace.

Scarce had Aurora with her new-born Light,
Returning, sprinkled-o'er the Mountain's Tops;
When, issuing from the Ocean, Phœbus' Steeds
Thro' their wide Nostrils snort the solar Fire:
The Trojans and Rutulians for the Fight
A Cirque before the lofty Walls describe;
And Altars in the Midst of graffy Turf
Build to their common Gods: Some Water bring,
And consecrated Fire; their Bodies veil'd

377

With Linen, and their Heads with Vervain crown'd.
Th'Ausonian Legions march; and iron Troops
Pour from the crouded Gates. To Them oppos'd
The Trojans, and the Tyrrhene Squadrons rush,
In various Arms; and no less rang'd in Arms,
Than if the rigid Labour of the War
Had call'd them to the Field. The Chiefs themselves,
Amidst the Thousands, thro' th'embattled Lines
Ride round, all rich in Purple, and in Gold:
Mnestheus from old Assaracus deriv'd;
Asylas brave, Messapus, Neptune's Son,
Tamer of Steeds. When now (the Signal giv'n)
All to their Posts allotted were retir'd;
They fix their Spears in Earth, and rest their Shields.
The longing Matrons, and the feeble Sires,
And unarm'd Vulgar, load the Houses-Tops,
And Tow'rs; or crouding fill the lofty Gates.

But Juno from the Mount, now Alban call'd,
(No Name, no Mark, or Glory Then it bore,)
Surveys the lifted Field, both Armies rang'd,
Trojans, Laurentians, and Latinus' Walls.
The Goddess then to Turnus' Sister speaks,
Her self a Goddess, o'er the sounding Streams,
And Lakes presiding; (Jove to Her had giv'n
That Honour for her Virgin Honour lost:)
Nymph, Pride of Rivers, best by me belov'd;
Thou know'st how Thee I have preferr'd to all
The Latins, who the Bed of Jove ingrate
Have e'er ascended; and with glad Consent
Permitted thy Advancement to the Skies.
Accuse not me, Juturna; but thy own

378

Affliction learn. While Fortune and the Fates
Suffer'd th'Affairs of Latium to succeed;
I still protected Turnus, and Thy Walls.
Now the brave Youth I see engag'd in Fight,
With Gods unequal: And his destin'd Hour
And Death approach. This Combate, and This League
My Eyes endure not: Thou, if aught thou dare
More present for thy Brother's Aid, proceed;
'Tis just: Perhaps a better Chance betides
The wretched Latins. Thus she scarce had spoke:
Juturna answers with her Tears; and beats
With oft repeated Blows her beauteous Breast.
Juno replies: 'Tis now no Time for Tears;
Haste; and, if any Means be offer'd, snatch
Thy Brother from his Fate: Or Thou excite
New Wars; and break th'intended League: 'Tis I
Persuade the bold Attempt. This said, she leaves
The Nymph perplex'd, and wounded in her Thoughts.

Mean-while the Kings in long Procession move,

379

High in his Chariot, by four Horses drawn,
Latinus rides: Twelve golden Rays inclose
His Temples round; illustrious Argument
Of his high Lineage from the Sun deriv'd.
In his white Car young Turnus next succeeds,
Shaking two Jav'lins of broad-pointed Steel.
Then, from the opposite embattled Line,
Comes the great Father of the Roman Race,

380

Æneas, with his Shield's broad starry Orb
All bright, and blazing in celestial Arms:
Ascanius by his Side, the other Hope
Of mighty Rome. And in his snow-white Robe
The Priest a Youngling of a bristled Sow
Brings to the Altars, and a Lamb unshorn:
They turn their Faces to the rising Sun;
Offer salt Cakes; and from the Victims clip

381

The foremost Hairs; and on the flaming Hearths
From consecrated Bowls Libations pour.

Then good Æneas, with his Sword unsheath'd,
Thus prays. Thou Sun, be Witness to my Vows;
And Thou Ausonian Land, for which I bore
Such mighty Toils; Thou Heav'n's Almighty King;
And Thou Saturnian Juno, Goddess, hear,
Now more propitious; And Thou potent Mars,
Whose Deity controuls, and turns all Wars:
You, Fountains, and you, Rivers, I invoke;
And whatsoe'er Divinity resides

382

Or in high Heav'n above, or Seas below.
If Chance shall to Ausonian Turnus give
The Conquest; To the King Evander's Walls
'Tis just the vanquish'd Trojans should retire:
Iülus from These Regions shall withdraw;
Nor ever shall th'Æneadæ return
With new Alarms, or vex These Realms with War.
But if my Arms with Conquest shall be crown'd;
(Which rather I suppose, and may the Gods
Confirm That Hope;) I never shall compel
Th'Italians to receive the Trojan Yoke:
Nor to their Empire does my Soul aspire.
In Leagues eternal, and in equal Laws,
Unconquer'd, let both Nations still remain;
Gods and Religion I will add; His Pow'r
And Empire let Latinus still enjoy:
New Walls the Trojan Colony shall build;
And fair Lavinia give Those Walls a Name.

So first Æneas spoke. Then Thus reply'd
Latinus, with his Eyes erect to Heav'n,
And his Right Hand extended to the Stars:
By the same Pow'rs, by Earth, by Heav'n, and Sea,
I swear, Æneas; by Latona's Twins,
And two-fac'd Janus; by th'Infernal Gods,

383

And griesly Pluto's Court: Hear Thou this Oath,
Great Jove, whose Thunder ratifies our Leagues:
Upon the Altars and the middle Fires
I lay my Hand, and Thus attest the Gods.
This League, This Peace among th'Italian States
(Howe'er th'Event may prove) no Time shall break;
Nor me shall any Force or Pow'r avert:
Not, tho' the Earth it plunge into the Sea
In Deluge mix'd, and Heav'n with Hell confound.
As now This Sceptre (in his Hand he bore
His Sceptre) never more shall sprout with Leaves;
Since, ravish'd from it's Mother Tree, it lost
It's Boughs lop'd from it by the sharpen'd Steel:
A vegetable Plant at first; now shap'd,
And by the Artist's Hand inclos'd with Brass,
The Badge of State for Latin Kings to wield.

Thus They alternate firm'd the League, amidst
Th'assembled Nobles: Then by ancient Rite

384

They stab the sacred Victims on the Flames;
Rend their yet living Entrails from their Breasts;
And loaded Chargers on the Altars pile.

But to the Rutuli unequal seem'd
That Combate; And their Breasts, long since confus'd,
With various Motions fluctuate: Now the more,
When nearer they behold the Chiefs ill-match'd.
Turnus augments Those Fears, as slow he moves
With silent Pace, and at the Altar bows,
Suppliant with down-cast Eyes; his livid Cheeks;
And Paleness o'er his youthful Body spred.
Juturna, when Those Murmurs she perceiv'd
Thick'ning, and multiply'd among the Croud,
Their shifting Passions, and their drooping Cheer,
Mingles among the thickest Troops, assumes
Camertes' Shape, from noblest Lineage sprung,
Fam'd for his Father's Valour, and his own;
Then scatters various Rumours thro' the Field,
And Thus, not uninstructed, speaks aloud.

Blush you not, Ye Rutulians, to expose
One Life for All? In Number, or in Strength
Are we inferiour? See the Trojans here,
Th'Arcadians, and Etruria's fatal Band
Hostile to Turnus. Should each Second Man
Of Us engage; he scarce would find a Foe.
The Hero's self, 'tis true, shall to the Gods,

385

Before whose Altars he devoted stands,
Ascend; and live immortal in his Fame:
We, who now sit Spectators on the Plain,
Our Country lost, shall bend beneath the Yoke
Of Victors proud, and foreign Lords obey.

With Words like These the Warriour Youths she fir'd;
And thro' the Troops the spreading Murmur ran.
The Latins and Laurentians, who e'erwhile
Hop'd for a long Repose from bloody Toils,
And Safety to their State, now chang'd would rush
Again to Battle; wish the League dissolv'd;
And pity Turnus' hard unequal Fate.
This more Juturna adds, and from high Heav'n
An Omen gives; Than which more better fram'd
Could puzzle and deceive th'Italian Host.
For in the ruddy Sky Jove's tow'ring Bird
A Flock of River-Fowl with sounding Wings
Before him drove; Then, stooping to the Waves,
With his sharp Pounces snatch'd and bore aloft
A stately Swan: Th'Italians, in Suspense
Arrect, stand gazing: And the Birds all join'd
(Prodigious to behold!) with screaming Noise
Form a thick Cloud, and turn their airy Flight,
Obscure the Sky with Wings, and press their Foe:
'Till, by the Weight, and by their Force o'erpow'r'd,
He from his hooky Talons drops the Prey
Upon the Stream, and flies into the Winds.

386

Then all th'Ausonians loud with shouting Cries
Salute the Omen; And prepare to range
Their Troops for Battle: And the Augur first
Tolumnius speaks. This, Ye Rutulians, This
Is what I oft desir'd; I see, and own
The Gods: By me, by me conducted, draw
Your Weapons; You, whom Thus like tim'rous Birds
The impious Renegade affrights, and wastes
Your Shores: He soon will fly, and hoise his Sails.
Close You your thick'ning Squadrons; and by War
Defend your Leader from unequal Fight.

He said: and running forwards hurl'd a Dart
Amidst the Throng of Foes: The well-aim'd Ashe
Flies on direct, and hissing cuts the Air.
A thund'ring Shout succeeds; Then all the Ranks
Tumultuous take th'Alarm, and burn with Rage.
The flying Spear, as then by chance there stood
Nine Brothers, of distinguish'd Shape and Mien,
(Whom One chaste Confort of the Tyrrhene Race
All to Gylippus of Arcadia bore,)
Reach'd one of These, a Youth of beauteous Form,
And deck'd in shining Arms; and where the Belt
Close to the Belly strains the middle Waist,
And the round Buckle clasps it's Joints, transfix'd

387

His Flank, and stretch'd him on the yellow Sand.
But wild with Rage the sprightly Brothers burn;
Some draw their Swords, Some snatch the missive Steel,
And blind rush on: 'Gainst Them th'Ausonian Troops,
Resisting, croud; To These again oppos'd
A Tide of Trojans, by th'Arcadians join'd
With painted Arms, and all Agylla's Youth;
All with like Ardour fir'd to end the Strife
By open War: They hurl the Altars down;
An Iron Tempest, and a Storm of Darts
Hovers aloft, and blackens all the Sky.
The sacred Hearths and Goblets they o'erturn;
Latinus' self, the League now broken, flies,
And carries back his disappointed Gods.
Some rein their Chariots, or with active Bound
Leap on their Steeds, and with drawn Weapons run.
Messapus, eager to confound the Peace,
Tyrrhene Aulestes, King, and on his Shield
Bearing a Kingly Impress, with his Steed
Justles adverse: He terrify'd gives way,
And o'er the Altars, to his Back oppos'd,
Ill-fated, on his Head and Shoulders rolls.
Messapus fiery with his Jav'lin flies;

388

And Him, much praying, with a mighty Spear
High from his Steed transfixes, and Thus speaks.
Thou hast it there; This Victim to the Gods
Is better giv'n: Th'Italians, crouding, strip
His welt'ring Body. Ebusus springs on,
And aims a Blow; Him Chorinæus meets,
And dashes o'er his Face a flaming Brand
Snatch'd from the Altar: His huge bushy Beard
Blazes, and spreads a Stench. The other close
Urges his startled Foe, and in his Hair
Twists his Left Hand; and, pressing with his Knee
His Stomach, nails him prostrate to the Ground;
And plunges in his Side the rigid Steel.
Next Podalirius, with his Sword unsheath'd,
The Shepherd Alsus, rushing thro' the Darts
In the first Rank, pursues, and o'er him stands
Threatning aloft; He, drawing back his Hand,
Full in the Middle with his Axe divides

389

His Forehead, and his Chin; and smears his Arms
With spatter'd Brains all o'er: A deadly Rest,
And iron Slumber seals his heavy Eyes,
And closes them in everlasting Night.

Then good Æneas stretch'd his Hand unarm'd;
And, with his Head uncover'd, to his Friends
Thus call'd aloud. Whence This so sudden Change
To Discord? Whither rush you? O restrain
Your Rage: The Treaty is confirm'd, and all
Conditions fix'd; 'Tis just that I alone
Engage; Permit me; Cease your Fears; This Hand
Shall fix the League, by whose religious Rites
The Life of Turnus is a Debt to Me.

Thus while he spoke; a feather'd Arrow flew
With hissing Sound, and in the Hero stuck:
'Twas doubtful from what Hand the Weapon came;
What God, or Chance to the Rutulians gave
So great a Triumph: Smother'd was the Fame
Of That illustrious Deed; and none allow'd
To boast the Glory of Æneas' Wound.

When Turnus saw Æneas from the Field
Retiring, and the Trojan Chiefs confus'd;
Fir'd with new Hope he suddenly demands
His Arms, and Horses; vaults with haughty Bound
Into his Car, and guides the flowing Reins:
Many brave Warriours in his swift Career
He gives to Death; rolls many on the Ground
Half-dead; or drives his Chariot o'er their Troops;
Or plies their Backs with Jav'lins in their Flight.
As when enrag'd, near frozen Hebrus' Stream,
Mars clashes on his Shield, and wakes the War,

390

And to his foaming Coursers gives the Reins;
They, in the open Field, outfly the Winds,
Notus, and Zephyrus: Beneath their Feet
The Thracian Confines groan; And round him throng
Fury, and Stratagem, and pale Dismay,
The dire Retinue of th'ensanguin'd God.
So Turnus, thro' the Middle of the Fight,
Exulting, lashes on his fiery Steeds
Smoking with Sweat; and (dreadful to behold!)
Tramples his prostrate Foes: The rapid Hooss
Scatter the gory Dew all sprinkled round,
And spurn thick Clots of mingled Sand and Blood.
Now Sthenelus and Thamiris he kills,
And Pholus; These two last in closer Fight,
The first at distance: And at distance both
Th'Imbrasidæ, Glaucus, and Lades nam'd;
Whom Imbrasus himself in Lycia bred,
And with like Arms adorn'd, expert in War,
And with fleet Horses to outstrip the Winds.
Eumedes, ancient Dolon's warlike Son,
Advances next; expressing in his Name
His Grandsire; in his Soul and Deeds, his Sire:

391

Who, whilom, undertaking to explore
The Grecian Camp, presum'd for his Reward
The Chariot of Pelides to demand.
To Him far other Prize Tydides gave
For That presumptuous Thought, That bold Attempt;
Nor now aspires he to Achilles' Steeds.
Him Turnus seeing on the open Plain
At distance, first along the empty Space
Throws a light Spear; then stops his harness'd Steeds,
And from his Chariot leaps upon the Ground,
And o'er him fall'n and half-expiring stands;
Then, treading on his Neck, his Sword he wrests
From his Right Hand, and drives into his Throat
The shining Blade; and Thus, insulting, speaks.
Trojan, lie there; and measure with thy Bulk
These Fields, and This Hesperia, which with War

392

Thou didst attempt: Such Prizes are obtain'd
By Those who Me durst irritate; 'Tis Thus
They plant their Colonies, and found their Walls.
To Him Asbutes with a Jav'lin hurl'd
He joins in Death; and Chloreus, Sybaris,
And Dares, and Thersilochus, and next
Thymætes falling from his flound'ring Steed.
As when Edonean Boreas with loud Gust
Roars on th'Æean Deep; and to the Beach
The Billows roll; where-e'er the Wind exerts
It's Force, the Clouds fly racking thro' the Air:
So where exulting Turnus cuts his Way,
The Troops retire, and in Confusion run;
Rapid he whirls along, and in his Car
His Plume nods high, and trembles with the Wind.
Him storming Thus with unresisted Rage
Phegeus endur'd not; but himself oppos'd
To the swift Car; and with his Hand detorts
The Mouths and Bridles of the foaming Steeds.
While dragg'd along he hangs upon the Pole,
Between the Harness; the broad-pointed Lance
Reaches his Side, uncover'd to the Blow,
And thro' his double-tissu'd Coat of Mail
Razes his Body with a slender Wound.
Yet with his Shield oppos'd against the Foe
He turns, and tries the Fortune of his Sword.
The Wheel, and rapid Axis in it's Course
Roll him precipitate along the Ground;
Turnus pursues th'Advantage; with his Blade,

393

Betwixt th'extremest Shield and Breast-plate, lops
His Head, and leaves his Trunk upon the Sand.

While Turnus spreads such Slaughter thro' the Field,
Victorious; Mnestheus with Achates join'd,
And young Ascanius, in his Tent support
Æneas bleeding, and with halting Steps
Alternate, leaning on his ashen Spear.
He, raging, tugs the Arrow, breaks the Wood,
And for Relief the speediest Way demands;
Bids them lay open with a wider Gash,
And lance the Wound, and with their Swords rescind
The Point's deep Bed, and send him back to War.
Now present to his Aid Iäpys came,
Iäsius' Son, by Phœbus fondly lov'd:
On him his choicest Fav'rite heretofore
Apollo his own Arts, and Gifts bestow'd;
His Augury, his Lute, and feather'd Shafts.
He, to protract his aged Father's Life,

394

Chose Skill in Med'cine, and the Pow'rs of Herbs;
And exercis'd a mute inglorious Art.
On his long Spear Æneas leaning stood,
And gnashing with Impatience; round inclos'd
By sad Iülus, and the crouding Youth;
And by their Tears unmov'd. The Leach, succinct
In the Pæonian Mode, his Garb retorts:
Much med'c'nal Remedy in vain he tries,
With anxious Haste; in vain the sticking Dart
Sollicites, and with Pincers gripes the Steel.
No Fortune seconds his Attempt; no Art
Of Phœbus aught avails. And now still more
And more the Horrour rises in the Field:
The Mischief nearer threatens; Black with Dust
They see the Sky: The Horse approach; and Darts
Fall thick amidst the Camp: To Heav'n ascends
A dismal Noise confus'd of Warriour Youth,
Groaning in Death, and gasping on the Ground.

Here Venus, beauteous Mother, struck with Grief
At That Excess of Pain her Son endur'd,
From Cretian Ida crops a healing Stalk
Of Ditany, with full-grown, downy Leaves,
And purple Flow'rs; to Wild-Goats not unknown,
When in their Backs the feather'd Shafts are lodg'd.
This Venus, muffled in a Cloud, conveys
Into the shining Vase, and dusky Flood;

395

Infusing secretly Ambrosia's Juice,
And odorif'rous Panacea. With This
Iäpys ignorant foments his Thigh:
Forthwith the Pain from all his Body flies;
All stanch'd within the Bottom of the Wound
The Blood subsides: And now the loosen'd Dart,
Without Compulsion, drops into his Hand;
And to it's pristine Tone his Strength returns.
Arms for the Hero; Quick; Why stand you Thus?
Iäpys cries; and first against the Foe
Inflames their Courage: To no human Aid
This Cure is ow'd, nor to the Artist's Skill;
Nor Thee, Æneas, does my Hand preserve:
A more than mortal Power effects This Change,
And Thee for more Heroic Deeds restores.

Greedy of Fight he sheaths his Legs in Gold,
And hates Delay, and shakes his quiv'ring Spear.
Soon as the Shield sate fitted to his Side,
And to his Body the rich Coat of Mail;
He strains Ascanius with an arm'd Embrace,
And, lightly kissing thro' his Helmet, speaks.
True Toil and Vertue learn, dear Youth, from Me;

396

Fortune from Others: Now my Hand in War
Shall Thee defend, and with vast Honours crown.
Be Thou industrious, when mature of Age,
To fix These great Examples in thy Mind;
And, Them revolving, copy out thy Sire
Æneas, and thy Uncle Hector's Fame.

Thus having said, with tow'ring Port he strides
From the high Gate, and shakes his mighty Spear;
Together crouding from th'abandon'd Camp
Antheus, and Mnestheus rush, and all the Tide
Of Troops condens'd: Thick Dust obscures the Sky;
And the Ground trembling groans beneath their Feet.
Them marching forward from a Hill adverse
Bold Turnus and th'Ausonian Squadrons saw;
And sudden Fear ran chilling thro' their Veins:
Juturna, first of all the Latins, heard
And knew the Sound, and in Confusion fled.
He rapid whirls into the open Field
His dusty Troops. As when a Storm to Land,

397

By some Tempestuous Constellation rais'd,
Thro' the mid Ocean rolls: With sad Presage
The Peasants shudder at the distant Noise,
Foreboding Corn laid flat, and Trees o'erturn'd,
And universal Ruin spred around:
The Winds before it fly, and to the Shore
Waft the hoarse Murmur. So the Rhætian Chief
Against th'embattled Foes his Squadron led.
Wedg'd in one Body, and conglob'd they stand:
Archetius falls by Mnestheus; Epulon
By brave Achates; Gyas Ufens kills:
The Augur's self Tolumnius falls, who first
Against the Foes adverse his Jav'lin hurl'd.
Shouts rise to Heav'n: and o'er the dusty Field
The Rutuli now turn their Backs in Flight.
Himself no other deigns to strike to Earth,
Nor in Pursuit, nor in the closer Fight,
Nor with the pointed Jav'lin lanc'd from far:
Turnus alone, amidst the Cloud of Dust,
He seeks for Combate, Him alone demands.
Seiz'd with That Fear Juturna, warlike Maid,
Strikes down, betwixt the Harness, from his Seat,
Metiscus, who the Car of Turnus drove,
And leaves him fall'n at distance from the Pole:
Herself succeeds, and guides the flowing Reins;
Chang'd to Metiscus' Shape, and Voice, and Arms.
As when the sable Swallow flutters o'er

398

The spacious Palace of some wealthy Lord,
And all around the lofty Court surveys;
Collecting slender Nutriment, to feed
Her prattling Young: Now here, now there, she skims
The empty Cloysters, and the liquid Ponds,
With sounding Pinions. So Juturna rides
Amidst the Squadrons in her rapid Car,
And ev'ry thing surveys: Now here, now there,
Still shifting, her exulting Brother shews;
Nor any where permits him to engage;
But devious flies, and shuns the crouded Field.
Nor less Æneas, wheeling, traces round
The winding Maze; and seeks the Chief, and calls
His Name at distance thro' the scatter'd Troops.
As oft as tow'rds his Foe he bends his Eyes,
Attempting to outstrip the flying Steeds;
So oft Juturna from his Sight averse
Retorts the Chariot. Whither should she turn?
In vain she fluctuates with a Tide of Cares;
And various Passions struggle in her Breast.
Here swift Messapus, as by chance he bore
In his Left Hand two Spears prefix'd with Steel,
Hurls one well aim'd, and levell'd for a Wound:
Æneas stops, and sinks on bended Knee,
Contracted in his Armour; yet the Spear
Driv'n with impetuous Force his Helmet raz'd,
And from it's Crest struck off the topmost Plumes.
Then fir'd at last, and dreadful in Revenge,
And now perceiving with industrious Fraud

399

Himself deluded, and the Car and Steeds
By Stratagem detorted, much to Jove
And to the Altars of the League profan'd
Appealing, in the Centre he invades
Their thickest Troops; and with resistless Swing
Dire undistinguish'd Slaughter round him spreads,
And all the Reins diffuses to his Rage.

What God shall now to Me in Verse relate
So many Woes of War; so many Deaths
Among the bravest Youths o'er all the Field
By Turnus, and the Trojan Chief dispens'd,
Alternate? Was it then Thy Will, O Jove,
That Nations destin'd to eternal Peace
In such a furious Conflict should engage?
Æneas in Rutulian Sucro's Side
With quick Dispatch deep drives the rigid Blade,
(First by That Combate stopping in their Speed
The rushing Trojans) and, where Death could find
The speediest Passage, pierces thro' his Ribs.
Turnus on foot engages Amycus
Push'd from his Steed, and his ill-fated Brother
Diores; With his long protended Spear
Wounding the first, the second with his Sword:
Then on his Chariot both their Heads suspends
Dropping black Blood, and bears them thro' the Field.
Æneas, Tanais and Talos kills,
And brave Cethegus, three at one Assault,

400

And sad Onytes, Echionian Name,
His Mother's Peridia. Turnus stabs
The Brothers sent from Lycia, and the Soil
By Phœbus lov'd; and That Arcadian Youth
Menœtes, Enemy to War in vain:
His Art was Fishing, and his poor Abode
Near Lerna's Lake; and Stranger to the Great
His Father sow'd in Furrows not his own.

As when from diff'rent Parts two rushing Fires
Invade a Grove of crackling Laurel-Boughs;
Or from the Mountains Tops with tumbling Flood
And roaring Noise two foamy Rivers run
Into the Sea, and sweeping force their Way:
With such Rapidity the Trojan Chief
And Turnus thro' the Battle rush: Now, now
Rage boils within, and stubborn heaves their Breasts
Indocile to be quell'd; Now all their Strength
Exerted labours, bent on mutual Wounds.

Æneas with a Rock's enormous Weight,
Driv'n like a Whirlwind, strikes Murranus down
Headlong to Earth; Murranus, boasting loud
His Stem deriv'd from all the Latin Kings,
And mighty Sires, and Grandsires ancient Names:
The Wheels beneath the Axle, and the Reins,
Whirl rapid o'er him; and his trampling Steeds
Crush him to Mire, unmindful of their Lord.
Turnus meets Hillus rushing on amain
With mighty Rage; and hurls the pointed Steel
Against his gilded Temples: Thro' them driv'n
The Spear stands fix'd, and quivers in his Brain.
Nor Thee from Turnus did thy Hand preserve,

401

Creteus, the bravest of the Grecian Race;
Nor did his Gods, when great Æneas came,
Protect Cupencus; Obvious to the Dart
He gave his Breast, nor him did aught avail
The solid Texture of his brazen Shield.
Thee too, Thee, Æölus, Laurentian Fields
Saw fall'n, and wide extended on the Ground:
Whom nor the Grecian Squadrons, nor the Bane
Of Priam's Realms, Achilles, could subdue:
Here was thy Term of Life; Thy lofty Seat
Lyrnessus, underneath the hanging Rocks
Of Ida; In Laurentian Fields, thy Grave.
Against each other all the Squadrons rush,
The Latins all, and all the Trojan Pow'rs,
Mnestheus, and brave Serestus, and Messapus,
Tamer of Steeds, Asylas fam'd in Arms,
The Tuscan Phalanx, and th'Arcadian Wings:
All with their utmost Force exerted strive;
Nor Pause, nor Respite; with vast Conflict fierce
They push, and sweat, and labour o'er the Field.

Here lovely Venus to Æneas' Thoughts
Suggested, that his Army to the Walls
Should march, and on the City pour the Storm,
And with a sudden Siege surprize the Foe.
He, while amidst the various Troops dispers'd
Turnus he seeks, and round him throws his Eyes,
Beholds the City from so vast a War
Exempt, and undisturb'd by hostile Rage.
Forthwith the Image of a greater Fight

402

Inflames his Breast; His chosen Chiefs he calls,
Mnestheus, Sergestus, and Serestus brave,
Then, standing in the Centre, takes a Hill,
Round which the other Trojan Legions croud,
Nor lay their Targets, and their Darts aside:
Them from the rising Ground he Thus bespeaks.
Let nothing of Delay my Words attend;
Here Jove is on our Side: Let None proceed
Less active for the sudden Enterprize:
This Day the City's self, Latinus' Court,
The Cause of all the War, (unless they yield,
And vanquish'd own my Sway,) I will o'erturn,
And level with the Ground their smoking Tow'rs.
Shall I, belike, on Turnus' Pleasure wait,
Expecting, when he shall vouchsafe to stand
My Arms, and beaten dare again in Fight?
This is the Head, Ye Citizens, the Sum
Of all the impious War: Bring flaming Brands,
And re-assert the broken League with Fire.

He said. They all in emulation strive,
And form a Wedge, and rushing croud the Walls.
Ladders at once, and sudden Fire appears:
Some to the Gates advance, and kill the first
Who obvious stand; Some hurl the missive Steel
In Storms of Shafts, and darken all the Sky.
Æneas' self, amidst the foremost Rank,
Beneath the lofty Walls extends his Hand,
And blames Latinus with his Voice aloud:

403

Attests the Gods, that he again was forc'd
Unwilling to the War; The Latins twice
Were made his Foes; This second League dissolv'd.
Among the trembling Citizens within
Wild Discord reigns: Some press to ope the Gates
Wide to the Trojans; and the King himself
Drag to the Walls: Some resolute in Arms
Sustain the Combate, and defend the Town.
As when the Swain a Colony of Bees
Shut in some hollow Pumice has descry'd,
And fill'd with bitter Smoke; Confus'd within,
And trembling, thro' their waxen Tents they run,
And with sharp Stridor whet each other's Rage:
Thro' the dark Cells a smoth'ring Stench is roll'd,
With inward humming Noise the Cavern sounds,
And smould'ring Smoke ascends in open Air.

Amidst the Toils the harrass'd Latins bore,
This farther Fortune added to their Woes;
And quite o'erwhelm'd the City with Distress.
Soon as the Queen beheld the Foe advance
Against the Town, the Walls beleaguer'd round,
And to the Roofs the flaming Firebrands fly;

404

To These no opposite Rutulian Bands,
No Troops of Turnus; Him with sad Presage
Unhappy she imagines slain in War:
Frantick with sudden Grief herself she calls
The Crime, the Head, the Cause of all the Woe;
A thousand Things she utters in Despair,
Distracted, wild; and rends her purple Robes;
And from a lofty Beam suspended ties
The fatal Knot of ignominious Death.
Which Tidings when the wretched Latin Dames
Receiv'd; the Royal Maid Lavinia first
Her rosy Cheeks and beauteous Tresses tears:
Then all the rest run madding round the Court;
And with loud Shrieks the spacious Palace rings.
Hence the dire Fame o'er all the City spreads;
Their Spirits sink; Confounded at the Fates,
His City's Ruin, and his Consort's Death,
With Garments rent Latinus goes, and all
With Dust deforms his hoary ruffled Hair:
And much himself accuses, that long since
He had not in the strict Alliance join'd
Æneas, and as Son-in-law receiv'd.

Mean-while some distant Stragglers o'er the Field
Turnus pursues in Arms, more listless now,
And less delighted with his fiery Steeds.

405

To Him the Wind with doubtful Terrour wafts
The mingled Noise; Hoarse Murmurs of Distress,
And Clamours from the City pierce his Ears.
Ah me! What Sounds confus'd, what Cries disturb
The Town? Why rush These Clamours from the Walls?
He said; and, with his Coursers' Reins repress'd,
In dumb Amaze stood list'ning: When transform'd
Into the Charioteer Metiscus' Shape,
His Sister, managing the harness'd Steeds,
Accosts him Thus; Here, Turnus, let us push
The Foe, where our first Conquest shews the Way:
Others are left sufficient to defend
The Town; Æneas pushes on the War
Against th'Italians: Let Us too assault
The Trojan Troops, and equal Deaths dispense;
In Number not inferiour, nor in Fame.

Turnus to This:
O Sister; Long I've known you, when by Fraud
You first dissolv'd the League, and in These Wars
Your self engag'd: And now in vain you strive
To hide the Goddess. But who sent you down
Dispatch'd from Heav'n, and will'd you to endure

406

Such Labours? Was it that you might behold
Your most unhappy Brother's cruel Death?
For now what Measures can I take? What Hope
Of new Success can any Fortune shew?
Before These Eyes my self Murranus saw
(Than whom to me no dearer Name survives)
Calling on me for Help, I saw him fall
Mighty, and with a mighty Wound subdu'd.
There Ufens fell, unfortunate, nor liv'd
To see our Shame: The Trojan Victors keep
The full Possession of his Corps and Arms.
Shall I endure (That only now remains)
The City to be raz'd? Nor with my Sword
Refel the Taunts of Drances? Shall I shew
My Back? And shall This Earth see Turnus fly?
Is Death so terrible? Ye Gods of Hell,
Be kind; since Those of Heav'n abhor my Pray'r.
To You a guiltless Ghost I will descend,
Unsully'd with This Stain, nor ever prov'd
Unworthy of my great Forefathers' Fame.

He scarce had ended; when amidst the Foes,
Spurring his foaming Courser, Sages flies,

407

Shot with a feather'd Shaft athwart the Face;
And rushing calls aloud on Turnus' Name.
Turnus, on Thee our last of Hopes depends;
Commiserate thy Country: Fierce in Arms
Æneas thunders, threatning to destroy
Th'Italian Tow'rs, and raze them to the Ground:
Ev'n now hurl'd Firebrands to the Houses fly.
On Thee the Latins bend their Eyes: The King
Latinus' self divides his wav'ring Thoughts;
Doubtful, on whom he should confer the Name
Of Son-in-law, and to which Part incline.
Besides, the Queen, who still for Thee preserv'd
Friendship inviolate, has urg'd her Death
By her own Hands, and frighted left the Light.
Only Messapus, and Atinas brave,
Before the Gates, sustain the Fight: The Troops
Stand thickning round them; and an iron Crop
Of Blades unsheath'd gleams dreadful in the Air:
You wheel your Chariot o'er the empty Plain.

Confounded with the Croud of various Thoughts,
And stiff'ning with Amaze, the Hero stood,
In Silence deep: Within his Bosom boils
Disdainful Shame, and Grief to Madness wrought,
And Love inflam'd with Rage, and conscious Worth.
Soon as the Clouds were from his Mind dispel'd,
And Light restor'd; he turns his flashing Eyes
To the high Walls, and turbulent of Soul
The spacious City from his Car surveys.
When lo! a flaming Torrent thro' the Planks
To Heav'n redounding roll'd, and seiz'd the Tow'r:
The Tow'r, which he himself with jointed Beams

408

Had rear'd aloft, on Wheels, with Bridges rais'd.
Now, now, my Sister, Fate prevails: Forbear
To stop me; Let us follow, where the Gods
And our hard Fortune call: I stand resolv'd
To combate with Æneas; stand resolv'd
To suffer all that's terrible in Death:
Nor shalt thou longer see thy Brother live
With Infamy: Permit me, I implore,
T'indulge This Frenzy, e'er I leave the World.

He said; and bounding from his Chariot leap'd
Upon the Plain; then rushing thro' the Foes
And Darts, his mourning Sister leaves alone,
And breaks with rapid Haste the middle Ranks.
As when a Rock from some high Mountain's Top

409

Tumbles precipitate, or torn by Winds,
Or by a roaring Flood, or eating Age;
Down the steep Cliff the massy Fragment runs
With Impulse vast, and jumps upon the Ground,
Involving, as it rolls, Men, Beasts, and Woods.
So Turnus rushes thro' the broken Troops
To the high Walls; where most with Blood effus'd
The Soil smokes drench'd, and Jav'lins hiss in Air;
Then distant waves his Hand, and calls aloud.
Forbear, Ye Rutuli, and You repress
Your Darts, Ye Latins: Whate'er Chance of War
Remains, is mine: 'Tis just that I alone
Sustain the League, and end This Strife in Arms.
They all retire, and clear the spacious Field.

But Prince Æneas, hearing Turnus' Name,
Forsakes the Walls, forsakes the lofty Tow'rs;
Breaks all Delay, all other Toil; with Joy
Exults: and thunders terrible in Arms.
As great as Athos, or as Eryx great,
Or Father Apennine, when crown'd with Oaks
He waves the ruffled Forrest on his Brow,

410

And proudly rears his snowy Top to Heav'n.

Now eagerly intent all turn'd their Eyes,
The Trojans, and Rutulian Bands, and all
Th'Italians; Those who crown'd the Walls above,
And Those who batter'd them with Rams below;
And lay their Armour by: Latinus' self
With Wonder views two mighty Leaders, born
On distant Climates of the World, engage

411

In equal Combate, and decide the War.
They, when a spacious List was form'd, at once
With rapid Onset darting missive Spears,
Begin the Fight with Shields and sounding Brass.
The Earth beneath them groans: Then various Strokes
In closer Conflict, furious, they repeat;
Fortune and Courage blended meet in One.

As when, in shady Sila's spacious Grove,
Or on Taburnus' Top, with hostile Force,
And pushing Horns, two Bulls in Battle join;
The trembling Keepers, and the Herd aloof
Stand mute with Fear; the Heifers faintly lowe,
Doubtful to Which the Empire of the Wood
Must fall, which Lord the Pastures must obey.
They with prodigious Strength alternate Wounds
Inflict; with clatt'ring Horns each other gore;
And with large Blood their Necks and Dewlaps lave:
The Wood all round rebellows to the Noise.
So Prince Æneas and the Daunian Chief
Engage in Arms: Loud Clashing fills the Sky.
Great Jove himself the equal Balance holds,
And poises in it's Scales the Fates of Both:
One with Success is charg'd; and one descends

412

Loaded with Death. Here Turnus, thinking now
His Blow secure, with all his Body's Force
Springs forward, waves his Sword uprais'd in Air,
And strikes his Foe. The Trojans loud exclaim;
The Latins tremble: And the Bands of Both
Stand fix'd, expecting. But the faithless Blade
Breaks short; and in the Middle of the Stroke

413

Deserts him; Nothing now but Flight remains
For Aid: More swift than Eastern Winds he flies,
Soon as he sees the unaccustom'd Hilt,
And his Right hand disarm'd. The Fame reports,

414

That swift ascending his new-harness'd Car,
In the first Hurry of the Fight, with Haste
He snatch'd his Charioteer Metiscus' Sword;

415

(Leaving his own behind:) And That suffic'd,
While the faint Trojans turn'd their Backs in Flight.
But when to Vulcan's heav'nly Arms it came,
The mortal Blade, like Ice, in shivers flew;
The Fragments glitt'ring on the yellow Sand.

Therefore with Fear confounded Turnus flies,
And traverses the Field; now here, now there

416

Doubles in doubtful Mazes: For all round
The Trojan Lines embattled hem'd him in,
Here a vast Lake, and there the lofty Walls.
Nor less, tho' still disabled by his Wound,
His Knees oft stagger, and refuse to run,
Æneas presses on his trembling Foe
With eager Haste, and Step by Step pursues.
So the stanch Hound, loud op'ning in the Chace,
Urges the Stag, or with a River's Stream,
Or with the Hedge of crimson Plumes inclos'd;
Scar'd by the Toils, and by the steepy Bank,
A thousand Ways on various Ground he flies:
But the fleet Umbrian with expanded Jaws
Sticks close; now gripes, or seems to gripe his Prey,
And disappointed bites the empty Air.
Now Clamours rise; the Banks and Lakes around
Reply; And Heav'n all thunders to the Noise.
He flying chides his ling'ring Friends; and calls
On each by Name, to bring his faithful Sword.
Æneas opposite denounces Death
And present Ruin, aggravates their Fright;
Threatens to raze the City to the Ground,
If any durst approach; and halting storms.
Five Orbs involv'd, five Windings they complete,
This way, and That: For now no trivial Prize
Is sought: For Turnus' Life, or Blood they strive.

An old wild Olive there by chance had stood
With bitter Leaves; to Faunus sacred held

417

By Mariners: On which, escap'd from Storms,
(Such was the Custom) to the Latian God
Their offer'd Gifts and votive Vests they hung.
This holy Tree, to clear the Field for Fight,
The Trojans, undistinguishing, had hewn.
Hither Æneas' Jav'lin flew; here fix'd
It stood; and in the stubborn Root remain'd.
He kneeling tugs, and strives to disengage
The Steel; and with his missive Spear to reach
Whom in the swift Pursuit he could not seize.
Then Turnus, wild with Consternation, prays:
Great Faunus, aid thy Votary; And Thou,
Propitious Earth, detain the sticking Dart;
If I have still inviolate preserv'd
Your ancient Honours; which with impious War
The sacrilegious Trojans have profan'd.

He said; nor were his Pray'rs in vain preferr'd:
For, lab'ring at the tough tenacious Root,
And wrenching long, Æneas by no Strength
Could free the Iron from the binding Wood.
There while he tugs and sweats; again transform'd
Into the Charioteer Metiscus' Shape
The Daunian Goddess to her Brother runs
Assisting, and his trusty Sword restores.
Which Pow'r and high Presumption of the Nymph
Venus with Indignation seeing, flew,
And from the solid Root releas'd the Steel.
They Both, sublime in Courage, and with Arms
Refitted, One confiding in his Sword,
The Other rising to his brandish'd Spear,
Stand opposite; and panting urge the Fight.

418

Mean-while the King Omnipotent of Heav'n
Thus speaks to Juno, from a golden Cloud
Viewing the War: What now remains? What End,
Celestial Consort, must at length be fix'd?
That brave Æneas, Mortal-born, to Heav'n
Is due from Fate, and destin'd to the Stars,
Is known to You, and by your self confess'd.
What then attempt you farther? And what Hope
Detains you longer hov'ring in the Clouds?
Beseem'd it that a Mortal with a Wound
Should violate a God? Or that the Sword
Should be restor'd to Turnus? And new Strength
The Vanquish'd from your Pow'r receive? For what
Without your Pow'r could weak Juturna do?
Desist at length, by my Intreaty sway'd:
Nor let your Soul in Silence be consum'd
With eating Grief; But oft with sweet Regard
Impart the Tenour of your Cares to Me.
The great Event is at it's Point arriv'd:
To You 'twas giv'n o'er Land and Sea to toss
The Trojans, raise new Wars, deform the Court,
And stain the Hymenéal Rites with Blood:
Farther my Will permits not. Thus he spoke;
And Juno Thus with downcast Look reply'd.
That such indeed, Great Jove, was your Decree,
Full well I knew; And therefore with Regret
Left Earth, and Turnus: Else you should not here
Behold me linger in This airy Seat

419

Alone, and all Indignities endure:
But, wrapt in Flames among the thickest Troops,
The Trojans I would drag to Wars and Death.
Juturna, 'tis confess'd, I did persuade
To aid her wretched Brother; and approv'd
That for his Life ev'n more she should presume
To enterprize; but not to hurl a Dart,
Or bend a Bow: By Styx' dread Source I swear,
The only Oath which binds the mighty Gods.
But now I yield, and loathing leave the Fight.
One thing, which no Decree of Fate forbids,
For Latium, for the Majesty and Rights
Of your own People, suppliant I implore:
When, join'd with Peace by happy Nuptials made,
In lasting Leagues and Laws they shall unite;
Let not the Native Latins change their Name,
Nor Garb, nor Language; nor be Trojans call'd:
Let it be Latium; Be they Alban Kings
Thro' Ages; Let it be the Roman Race
Fear'd for Italian Courage: Troy is fall'n;
Let Troy be fall'n, and perish with it's Name.

420

Smiling on Her the Sire of Men, and Gods:
Sister of Jove, great Saturn's other Heir;
Still boil such Tides of Passion in your Breast?
But cease at length This unavailing Rage;
To your Demands I readily accord.
Th'Ausonians shall retain their Country's Speech,
Their Name, and Customs: Only mix'd with Them
The Trojans shall incorporate: To These
Religious Ceremonies I will give,
And make them Latins in one Language join'd.
This blended Lineage, from th'Ausonian Blood
Deriv'd, in Piety you shall behold
Excelling Men, and Gods: Nor any Race
Shall equal Honour to Your Altars pay.

Juno assents, and pleas'd retorts her Mind;

421

Then leaves the Sky, and from the Cloud retires.

But other Counsels Jove revolves alone;
T'avert Juturna from her Brother's Arms.
Two Pests there are, the Diræ call'd: Whom Night
At the same Birth with black Megæra bore,
Tartarean Fury; with such twisting Spires
Of Serpents bound, and added noisy Wings.
These at the Throne of Jove, and in the Court
Of Heav'n's dread Monarch wait, to strike with Fear
Unhappy Mortals: when the King of Gods
Sits meditating vengeful Death, or Plagues;
Or terrifies the guilty World with War.
Of These great Jove dispatches One from Heav'n,
A baleful Omen to Juturna sent:
She in a rapid Whirlwind downward flies;
As when a Dart, which by the Parthian ting'd
(The Parthian, or Cydonian) with the Juice
Of black immedicable Poyson, springs,
Shot from the twanging Nerve, along the Sky,
And, undiscover'd, cuts the fleeting Shades.
So Night's infernal Offspring flew to Earth.

Soon as the Trojan Troops, and Turnus' Bands
She sees; she changes, lessen'd, to the Shape
Of a small Bird, which sitting on the Tops

422

Of Tombs, and old deserted Tow'rs, by Night,
Shrieks thro' the Shades, ill-omen'd: Thus transform'd
The Fiend o'er Turnus' Visage, screaming, flies
This way, and That; and flaps upon his Shield
With flutt'ring Pinions. Him unusual Fear
Stiff'ning benumbs: Uprose his Hair arrect,
And to his Mouth his Speech with Horrour cleav'd.
Juturna, when the Fury's clatt'ring Wings
She knew, unhappy Sister! beats her Breast,
And tears her Face, and rends her flowing Hair;
What Succour, Turnus, can thy Sister now
Afford thee? What to wretched Me remains?
Or by what Art can I protract thy Life?
To such a Pest can I my self oppose?
Now, now I leave the Field: Ye Birds obscene,
Fright not my trembling Soul; Too well I know
Your beating Wings, and Death-denouncing Screams;
Nor do the proud Commands of mighty Jove
Deceive me. Is it Thus that he repays
My Virgin Honour lost? Wherefore to Me
Gave he to be immortal? Why is Death,
Great Nature's Law, deny'd me? Mortal sure
I now might end such Woes, and to the Ghosts
Companion with my hapless Brother go.
Nought without Thee, my Brother, now is left
Delightful: O would pitying Earth to Me,
Yawning, disclose a Grave; and thro' it's Womb
Transmit a Goddess to the Shades below.
She spoke, deep groaning; with her azure Veil
Muffled her Head, and plung'd into her Stream.

Æneas, shaking his long ashen Spear,

423

Urges adverse; and Thus relentless speaks.
What, Turnus, now is the Delay? Or what
Dost thou revolve? No Hope of Flight remains:
Arms must decide the Strife; To ev'ry Shape
Transform thy self; Collect thy utmost Force,
Whate'er thou canst in Art, or Courage; Wish
For Wings to bear thee to the Stars aloft;
Or hide thy self in op'ning Earth below.

The Hero shook his Head, and Thus reply'd:
Not Thy proud Threats, insulting Man, affright
My Soul; Me Heav'n affrights, and Jove my Foe.

No more he spoke: But looking round espy'd
A pond'rous Stone, which then by chance there lay,
An antique, pond'rous Stone, a Landmark plac'd,
To part the Limits of th'adjoining Fields.
This scarce Twelve chosen Men, (such Men as now
The Earth brings forth) could on their Shoulders bear:
With trembling Hands he rising lifts it high,
Runs stagg'ring forward, and against his Foe
Tosses th'enormous Load; but neither knows
Himself, when running, nor when stagg'ring on;
Nor poising in his Hands th'unwieldy Weight:
His Knees fail tott'ring, and his Blood congeals.
The Stone then rolling thro' the empty Space

424

Drops short, nor reaches to the destin'd Mark.
As oft in Dreams, when languid Sleep by Night
Has clos'd our Eyes, we seem with eager Heat
And Effort vain, to labour in the Race;
And in the Middle of th'Attempt sink down,
Weary, and faint; Nor does the Tongue perform;
Nor in our Bodies does th'accustom'd Strength
Second our Toil; nor Voice, nor Words ensue.
So Turnus fares; Whate'er his Valour tries,
The Fury thwarts him, and denies Success.
Then various Passions struggle in his Breast;
The City and the Latian Host he views,
Wavers with Fear, and dreads the coming Dart;
Perceives no Way for Flight, no Strength to move
Against the Foe; and now no longer sees
His Chariot, or his Sister Charioteer.

Thus while he wav'ring stands, Æneas shakes
The mortal Dart; and, having with his Eyes
Mark'd out the destin'd Wound, with all his Force
Collected, hurls the missive Death from far.
Stones shot from mural Engines with less Sound
Roar thro' the Air; Nor breaks so loud a Crash
From bursting Thunder: Like a Whirlwind flies
The Fate-conveying Spear, and opens wide
The Corslet's Border, and the sev'n-fold Shield's

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Extremest Orbs; and whizzing passes sheer
Thro' his mid Thigh. Down lofty Turnus falls,
Wounded, on doubled Knee, and bent to Earth.
A gen'ral Groan runs thro' th'Ausonian Host;
The Mountain round rebellows; and the Woods
Echoing return the Noise. He suppliant bends
His Eyes: And, stretching out his Hand, 'Tis true,
I have deserv'd, He cry'd; Nor will I strive
To deprecate: Enjoy thy Fortune's Gift.
Yet Oh! if aught a wretched Parent's Care

426

Can touch thy Soul (Thou too hadst such a Sire
The old Anchises) Pity Daunus' Age:
And, whether living, or despoil'd of Breath,
(Thine be That Choice) restore me to my Friends.
Thou hast o'ercome: Th'Ausonians see me fall,
And stretch my Hands: Lavinia is Thy Bride:
Extend thy Hate no further. Fierce in Arms
Æneas stood; and check'd his lifted Hand,
Rolling his Eyes around: And now his Soul
Still more and more relented, as he paus'd;
When on the vanquish'd Champion's Shoulder high
With well-known Bosses shone the fatal Belt
Of youthful Pallas; whom with mortal Wound
Turnus, unhappy Victor, struck to Earth,
And on his Shoulder wore the hostile Spoils.
Those Spoils the Trojan Hero having view'd,
The fresh Incentives of his Grief and Rage;
Inflam'd with Vengeance, terrible in Ire,
Shalt Thou, thus deck'd with Trophies of my Friends,
Escape from Me? 'Tis Pallas, Pallas gives

427

This Wound; and from Thy execrable Blood
Demands This Sacrifice of just Revenge.

Thus while he spoke, beneath his Breast adverse
Furious he plung'd the Sword: The vital Heat
Leaves his slack Limbs; And to the Shades below
With Indignation flies his groaning Soul.

The End of the Twelfth Book.

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FINIS.