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

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.