Home About Network of subjects Linked subjects heatmap Book indices included Search by subject Search by reference Browse subjects Browse texts

Tiresias: The Ancient Mediterranean Religions Source Database



11092
Vergil, Aeneis, 1.495-1.623


dum stupet, obtutuque haeret defixus in unoand for her journey's aid, he whispered where


regina ad templum, forma pulcherrima Didohis buried treasure lay, a weight unknown


incessit magna iuvenum stipante caterva.of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged


Qualis in Eurotae ripis aut per iuga CynthiDido, assembling her few trusted friends


exercet Diana choros, quam mille secutaeprepared her flight. There rallied to her cause


hinc atque hinc glomerantur oreades; illa pharetramall who did hate and scorn the tyrant king


fert umero, gradiensque deas supereminet omnis:or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships


Latonae tacitum pertemptant gaudia pectus:which haply rode at anchor in the bay


talis erat Dido, talem se laeta ferebatand loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth


per medios, instans operi regnisque futuris.of vile and covetous Pygmalion


Tum foribus divae, media testudine templithey took to sea. A woman wrought this deed.


saepta armis, solioque alte subnixa resedit.Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes


Iura dabat legesque viris, operumque laborembehold yon walls and yonder citadel


partibus aequabat iustis, aut sorte trahebat:of newly rising Carthage . For a price


cum subito Aeneas concursu accedere magnothey measured round so much of Afric soil


Anthea Sergestumque videt fortemque Cloanthumas one bull's hide encircles, and the spot


Teucrorumque alios, ater quos aequore turboreceived its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray


dispulerat penitusque alias avexerat oras.what men are ye? from what far land arrived


Obstipuit simul ipse simul perculsus Achatesand whither going?” When she questioned thus


laetitiaque metuque; avidi coniungere dextrasher son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths
NaN


Dissimulant, et nube cava speculantur amicti“Divine one, if I tell


quae fortuna viris, classem quo litore linquantmy woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause


quid veniant; cunctis nam lecti navibus ibantto heed the tale, first would the vesper star


orantes veniam, et templum clamore petebant.th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day


Postquam introgressi et coram data copia fandiin slumber lie. Of ancient Troy are we—


maxumus Ilioneus placido sic pectore coepit:if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved


O Regina, novam cui condere Iuppiter urbemfrom sea to sea, the hazard of the storm


iustitiaque dedit gentis frenare superbascast us up hither on this Libyan coast.


Troes te miseri, ventis maria omnia vectiI am Aeneas, faithful evermore


oramus, prohibe infandos a navibus ignisto Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear


parce pio generi, et propius res aspice nostras.my gods ancestral, which I snatched away


Non nos aut ferro Libycos populare Penatisfrom peril of the foe. My fame is known


venimus, aut raptas ad litora vertere praedas;above the stars. I travel on in quest


non ea vis animo, nec tanta superbia victis.of Italy, my true home-land, and I


Est locus, Hesperiam Grai cognomine dicuntfrom Jove himself may trace my birth divine.


terra antiqua, potens armis atque ubere glaebae;With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main


Oenotri coluere viri; nunc fama minoresI launched away. My mother from the skies


Italiam dixisse ducis de nomine gentem.gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained.


Hic cursus fuit:Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive


cum subito adsurgens fluctu nimbosus Orionthe shock of wind and wave; and I myself


in vada caeca tulit, penitusque procacibus austrisfriendless, bereft, am wandering up and down


perque undas, superante salo, perque invia saxathis Libyan wilderness! Behold me here


dispulit; huc pauci vestris adnavimus oris.from Europe and from Asia exiled still!”


Quod genus hoc hominum? Quaeve hunc tam barbara moremBut Venus could not let him longer plain
NaN


bella cient, primaque vetant consistere terra.“Whoe'er thou art


Si genus humanum et mortalia temnitis armaI deem that not unblest of heavenly powers


at sperate deos memores fandi atque nefandi.with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither


Rex erat Aeneas nobis, quo iustior alterunto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on


nec pietate fuit, nec bello maior et armis.and to the royal threshold make thy way!


Quem si fata virum servant, si vescitur auraI bring thee tidings that thy comrades all


aetheria, neque adhuc crudelibus occubat umbrisare safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed


non metus; officio nec te certasse prioremby favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie;


paeniteat. Sunt et Siculis regionibus urbesor else in vain my parents gave me skill


arvaque, Troianoque a sanguine clarus Acestes.to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans!


Quassatam ventis liceat subducere classemA flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file


et silvis aptare trabes et stringere remos:erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down


si datur Italiam, sociis et rege receptofrom his ethereal haunt, now form anew


tendere, ut Italiam laeti Latiumque petamus;their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place


sin absumpta salus, et te, pater optume Teucrumor, hovering over, scan some chosen ground


pontus habet Lybiae, nec spes iam restat Iulior soaring high, with whir of happy wings


at freta Sicaniae saltem sedesque paratasre-circle heaven in triumphant song:


unde huc advecti, regemque petamus Acesten.likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners


Talibus Ilioneus; cuncti simul ore fremebantare landed, or fly landward at full sail.
NaN


Tum breviter Dido, voltum demissa, profatur:She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam


Solvite corde metum, Teucri, secludite curas.from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair


Res dura et regni novitas me talia coguntbreathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes


moliri, et late finis custode tueri.fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed


Quis genus Aeneadum, quis Troiae nesciat urbemthe veritable goddess. Now he knew


virtutesque virosque, aut tanti incendia belli?that vision was his mother, and his words


Non obtusa adeo gestamus pectora Poenipursued the fading phantom as it fled:


nec tam aversus equos Tyria Sol iungit ab urbe.“Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er


Seu vos Hesperiam magnam Saturniaque arvawith mocking dreams,—another cruel god?


sive Erycis finis regemque optatis AcestenHast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange


auxilio tutos dimittam, opibusque iuvabo.of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?”


Voltis et his mecum pariter considere regnis;Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way


urbem quam statuo vestra est, subducite navis;toward the city's rampart. Venus then


Tros Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine agetur.o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,—


Atque utinam rex ipse Noto compulsus eodema liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,—


adforet Aeneas! Equidem per litora certosthat viewless they might pass, nor would any


dimittam et Libyae lustrare extrema iubeboobstruct, delay, or question why they came.


si quibus eiectus silvis aut urbibus errat.To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode


His animum arrecti dictis et fortis Achateswhere stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines


et pater Aeneas iamdudum erumpere nubemgarlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe
NaN


Nate dea, quae nunc animo sententia surgit?Meanwhile the wanderers swiftly journey on


omnia tuta vides, classem sociosque receptos.along the clear-marked road, and soon they climb


Unus abest, medio in fluctu quem vidimus ipsithe brow of a high hill, which close in view


submersum; dictis respondent cetera matris.o'er-towers the city's crown. The vast exploit


Vix ea fatus erat, cum circumfusa repentewhere lately rose but Afric cabins rude


scindit se nubes et in aethera purgat apertum.Aeneas wondered at: the smooth, wide ways;


Restitit Aeneas claraque in luce refulsitthe bastioned gates; the uproar of the throng.


os umerosque deo similis; namque ipsa decoramThe Tyrians toil unwearied; some up-raise


caesariem nato genetrix lumenque iuventaea wall or citadel, from far below


purpureum et laetos oculis adflarat honores:lifting the ponderous stone; or with due care


quale manus addunt ebori decus, aut ubi flavochoose where to build, and close the space around


argentum Pariusve lapis circumdatur auro.with sacred furrow; in their gathering-place


Tum sic reginam adloquitur, cunctisque repentethe people for just governors, just laws


improvisus ait: Coram, quem quaeritis, adsumand for their reverend senate shout acclaim.


Troius Aeneas, Lybicis ereptus ab undis.Some clear the harbor mouth; some deeply lay


O sola infandos Troiae miserata laboresthe base of a great theatre, and carve out


quae nos, reliquias Danaum, terraeque marisqueproud columns from the mountain, to adorn


omnibus exhaustos iam casibus, omnium egenostheir rising stage with lofty ornament.


urbe, domo, socias, grates persolvere dignaso busy bees above a field of flowers


non opis est nostrae, Dido, nec quicquid ubique estin early summer amid sunbeams toil


gentis Dardaniae, magnum quae sparsa per orbem.leading abroad their nation's youthful brood;


Di tibi, si qua pios respectant numina, si quidor with the flowing honey storing close


usquam iustitia est et mens sibi conscia rectithe pliant cells, until they quite run o'er


praemia digna ferant. Quae te tam laeta tuleruntwith nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm


saecula? Qui tanti talem genuere parentes?they take their little loads; or lined for war


In freta dum fluvii current, dum montibus umbraerout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive;


lustrabunt convexa, polus dum sidera pascetbrisk is the task, and all the honeyed air


semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebuntbreathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven.


quae me cumque vocant terrae. Sic fatus, amicumThese men that see their promised ramparts rise!”


Ilionea petit dextra, laevaque SerestumAeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved


post alios, fortemque Gyan fortemque Cloanthum.from tower to tower; then on his way he fared


Obstipuit primo aspectu Sidonia Didoveiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen


casu deinde viri tanto, et sic ore locuta est:of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!—
NaN


insequitur? Quae vis immanibus applicat oris?Deep in the city's heart there was a grove


Tune ille Aeneas, quem Dardanio Anchisaeof beauteous shade, where once the Tyrians


alma Venus Phrygii genuit Simoentis ad undam?cast here by stormful waves, delved out of earth


Atque equidem Teucrum memini Sidona venirethat portent which Queen Juno bade them find,—


finibus expulsum patriis, nova regna petentemthe head of a proud horse,—that ages long


auxilio Beli; genitor tum Belus opimamtheir boast might be wealth, luxury and war.


vastabat Cyprum, et victor dicione tenebat.Upon this spot Sidonian Dido raised


Tempore iam ex illo casus mihi cognitus urbisa spacious fane to Juno, which became


Intertexts (texts cited often on the same page as the searched text):

17 results
1. Homer, Iliad, 1.247-1.248, 2.816, 7.213, 11.57, 19.217-19.219 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)

1.247. /the staff studded with golden nails, and himself sat down, while over against him the son of Atreus continued to vent his wrath. Then among them arose Nestor, sweet of speech, the clear-voiced orator of the Pylians, from whose tongue flowed speech sweeter than honey. Two generations of mortal men had passed away in his lifetime 1.248. /the staff studded with golden nails, and himself sat down, while over against him the son of Atreus continued to vent his wrath. Then among them arose Nestor, sweet of speech, the clear-voiced orator of the Pylians, from whose tongue flowed speech sweeter than honey. Two generations of mortal men had passed away in his lifetime 2.816. /There on this day did the Trojans and their allies separate their companies.The Trojans were led by great Hector of the flashing helm, the son of Priam, and with him were marshalled the greatest hosts by far and the goodliest, raging with the spear. 11.57. /to send forth to Hades many a valiant head.And the Trojans over against them on the rising ground of the plain mustered about great Hector and peerless Polydamas and Aeneas that was honoured of the folk of the Trojans even as a god, and the three sons of Antenor, Polybus and goodly Agenor 19.217. /Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said:O Achilles, son of Peleus, far the mightiest of the Achaeans, better art thou than I and mightier not a little with the spear, howbeit in counsel might I surpass thee by far, seeing I am the elder-born and know the more; 19.218. /Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said:O Achilles, son of Peleus, far the mightiest of the Achaeans, better art thou than I and mightier not a little with the spear, howbeit in counsel might I surpass thee by far, seeing I am the elder-born and know the more; 19.219. /Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said:O Achilles, son of Peleus, far the mightiest of the Achaeans, better art thou than I and mightier not a little with the spear, howbeit in counsel might I surpass thee by far, seeing I am the elder-born and know the more;
2. Homer, Odyssey, 1.1-1.9, 1.11-1.21, 8.75, 8.83-8.92, 8.502, 8.517, 8.521-8.530 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)

3. Aristotle, Poetics, None (4th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)

4. Apollonius of Rhodes, Argonautica, 1.1211-1.1218, 3.1, 3.210-3.266, 3.270-3.438, 3.584-3.588 (3rd cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)

1.1211. δὴ γάρ μιν τοίοισιν ἐν ἤθεσιν αὐτὸς ἔφερβεν 1.1212. νηπίαχον τὰ πρῶτα δόμων ἐκ πατρὸς ἀπούρας 1.1213. δίου Θειοδάμαντος, ὃν ἐν Δρυόπεσσιν ἔπεφνεν 1.1214. νηλειῶς, βοὸς ἀμφὶ γεωμόρου ἀντιόωντα. 1.1215. ἤτοι ὁ μὲν νειοῖο γύας τέμνεσκεν ἀρότρῳ 1.1216. Θειοδάμας ἀνίῃ βεβολημένος· αὐτὰρ ὁ τόνγε 1.1217. βοῦν ἀρότην ἤνωγε παρασχέμεν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα. 1.1218. ἵετο γὰρ πρόφασιν πολέμου Δρυόπεσσι βαλέσθαι 3.1. εἰ δʼ ἄγε νῦν, Ἐρατώ, παρά θʼ ἵστασο, καί μοι ἔνισπε 3.210. τοῖσι δὲ νισσομένοις Ἥρη φίλα μητιόωσα 3.211. ἠέρα πουλὺν ἐφῆκε διʼ ἄστεος, ὄφρα λάθοιεν 3.212. Κόλχων μυρίον ἔθνος ἐς Αἰήταο κιόντες. 3.213. ὦκα δʼ ὅτʼ ἐκ πεδίοιο πόλιν καὶ δώμαθʼ ἵκοντο 3.214. Αἰήτεω, τότε δʼ αὖτις ἀπεσκέδασεν νέφος Ἥρη. 3.215. ἔσταν δʼ ἐν προμολῇσι τεθηπότες ἕρκεʼ ἄνακτος 3.216. εὐρείας τε πύλας καὶ κίονας, οἳ περὶ τοίχους 3.217. ἑξείης ἄνεχον· θριγκὸς δʼ ἐφύπερθε δόμοιο 3.218. λαΐνεος χαλκέῃσιν ἐπὶ γλυφίδεσσιν ἀρήρει. 3.219. εὔκηλοι δʼ ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἔπειτʼ ἔβαν. ἄγχι δὲ τοῖο 3.220. ἡμερίδες χλοεροῖσι καταστεφέες πετάλοισιν 3.221. ὑψοῦ ἀειρόμεναι μέγʼ ἐθήλεον. αἱ δʼ ὑπὸ τῇσιν 3.222. ἀέναοι κρῆναι πίσυρες ῥέον, ἃς ἐλάχηνεν 3.223. Ἥφαιστος. καί ῥʼ ἡ μέν ἀναβλύεσκε γάλακτι 3.224. ἡ δʼ οἴνῳ, τριτάτη δὲ θυώδεϊ νᾶεν ἀλοιφῇ· 3.225. ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ὕδωρ προρέεσκε, τὸ μέν ποθι δυομένῃσιν 3.226. θέρμετο Πληιάδεσσιν, ἀμοιβηδὶς δʼ ἀνιούσαις 3.227. κρυστάλλῳ ἴκελον κοίλης ἀνεκήκιε πέτρης. 3.228. τοῖʼ ἄρʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι Κυταιέος Αἰήταο 3.229. τεχνήεις Ἥφαιστος ἐμήσατο θέσκελα ἔργα. 3.230. καί οἱ χαλκόποδας ταύρους κάμε, χάλκεα δέ σφεων 3.231. ἦν στόματʼ, ἐκ δὲ πυρὸς δεινὸν σέλας ἀμπνείεσκον· 3.232. πρὸς δὲ καὶ αὐτόγυον στιβαροῦ ἀδάμαντος ἄροτρον 3.233. ἤλασεν, Ἠελίῳ τίνων χάριν, ὅς ῥά μιν ἵπποις 3.234. δέξατο, Φλεγραίῃ κεκμηότα δηιοτῆτι. 3.235. ἔνθα δὲ καὶ μέσσαυλος ἐλήλατο· τῇ δʼ ἐπὶ πολλαὶ 3.236. δικλίδες εὐπηγεῖς θάλαμοί τʼ ἔσαν ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα· 3.237. δαιδαλέη δʼ αἴθουσα παρὲξ ἑκάτερθε τέτυκτο. 3.238. λέχρις δʼ αἰπύτεροι δόμοι ἕστασαν ἀμφοτέρωθεν. 3.239. τῶν ἤτοι ἄλλῳ μέν, ὅτις καὶ ὑπείροχος ἦεν 3.240. κρείων Αἰήτης σὺν ἑῇ ναίεσκε δάμαρτι· 3.241. ἄλλῳ δʼ Ἄψυρτος ναῖεν πάις Αἰήταο. 3.242. τὸν μὲν Καυκασίη νύμφη τέκεν Ἀστερόδεια 3.243. πρίν περ κουριδίην θέσθαι Εἰδυῖαν ἄκοιτιν 3.244. Τηθύος Ὠκεανοῦ τε πανοπλοτάτην γεγαυῖαν. 3.245. καί μιν Κόλχων υἷες ἐπωνυμίην Φαέθοντα 3.246. ἔκλεον, οὕνεκα πᾶσι μετέπρεπεν ἠιθέοισιν. 3.247. τοὺς δʼ ἔχον ἀμφίπολοί τε καὶ Αἰήταο θύγατρες 3.248. ἄμφω, Χαλκιόπη Μήδειά τε. τὴν μὲν ἄρʼ οἵγε 3.249. ἐκ θαλάμου θάλαμόνδε κασιγνήτην μετιοῦσαν-- 3.250. Ἥρη γάρ μιν ἔρυκε δόμῳ· πρὶν δʼ οὔτι θάμιζεν 3.251. ἐν μεγάροις, Ἑκάτης δὲ πανήμερος ἀμφεπονεῖτο 3.252. νηόν, ἐπεί ῥα θεᾶς αὐτὴ πέλεν ἀρήτειρα-- 3.253. καί σφεας ὡς ἴδεν ἆσσον, ἀνίαχεν· ὀξὺ δʼ ἄκουσεν 3.254. Χαλκιόπη· δμωαὶ δὲ ποδῶν προπάροιθε βαλοῦσαι 3.255. νήματα καὶ κλωστῆρας ἀολλέες ἔκτοθι πᾶσαι 3.256. ἔδραμον. ἡ δʼ ἅμα τοῖσιν ἑοὺς υἱῆας ἰδοῦσα 3.257. ὑψοῦ χάρματι χεῖρας ἀνέσχεθεν· ὧς δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ 3.258. μητέρα δεξιόωντο, καὶ ἀμφαγάπαζον ἰδόντες 3.259. γηθόσυνοι· τοῖον δὲ κινυρομένη φάτο μῦθον· 3.260. ‘ἔμπης οὐκ ἄρʼ ἐμέλλετʼ ἀκηδείῃ με λιπόντες 3.261. τηλόθι πλάγξασθαι· μετὰ δʼ ὑμέας ἔτραπεν αἶσα. 3.262. δειλὴ ἐγώ, οἷον πόθον Ἑλλάδος ἔκποθεν ἄτης 3.263. λευγαλέης Φρίξοιο ἐφημοσύνῃσιν ἕλεσθε 3.264. πατρός. ὁ μὲν θνῄσκων στυγερὰς ἐπετείλατʼ ἀνίας 3.265. ἡμετέρῃ κραδίῃ. τί δέ κεν πόλιν Ὀρχομενοῖο 3.266. ὅστις ὅδʼ Ὀρχομενός, κτεάνων Ἀθάμαντος ἕκητι 3.270. Χαλκιόπης ἀίουσα· τὸ δʼ αὐτίκα πᾶν ὁμάδοιο 3.271. ἕρκος ἐπεπλήθει. τοὶ μὲν μέγαν ἀμφιπένοντο 3.272. ταῦρον ἅλις δμῶες· τοὶ δὲ ξύλα κάγκανα χαλκῷ 3.273. κόπτον· τοὶ δὲ λοετρὰ πυρὶ ζέον· οὐδέ τις ἦεν 3.274. ὃς καμάτου μεθίεσκεν, ὑποδρήσσων βασιλῆι. 3.275. τόφρα δʼ Ἔρως πολιοῖο διʼ ἠέρος ἷξεν ἄφαντος 3.276. τετρηχώς, οἷόν τε νέαις ἐπὶ φορβάσιν οἶστρος 3.277. τέλλεται, ὅν τε μύωπα βοῶν κλείουσι νομῆες. 3.278. ὦκα δʼ ὑπὸ φλιὴν προδόμῳ ἔνι τόξα τανύσσας 3.279. ἰοδόκης ἀβλῆτα πολύστονον ἐξέλετʼ ἰόν. 3.280. ἐκ δʼ ὅγε καρπαλίμοισι λαθὼν ποσὶν οὐδὸν ἄμειψεν 3.281. ὀξέα δενδίλλων· αὐτῷ ὑπὸ βαιὸς ἐλυσθεὶς 3.282. Αἰσονίδῃ γλυφίδας μέσσῃ ἐνικάτθετο νευρῇ 3.283. ἰθὺς δʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι διασχόμενος παλάμῃσιν 3.284. ἧκʼ ἐπὶ Μηδείῃ· τὴν δʼ ἀμφασίη λάβε θυμόν. 3.285. αὐτὸς δʼ ὑψορόφοιο παλιμπετὲς ἐκ μεγάροιο 3.286. καγχαλόων ἤιξε· βέλος δʼ ἐνεδαίετο κούρῃ 3.287. νέρθεν ὑπὸ κραδίῃ, φλογὶ εἴκελον· ἀντία δʼ αἰεὶ 3.288. βάλλεν ὑπʼ Αἰσονίδην ἀμαρύγματα, καί οἱ ἄηντο 3.289. στηθέων ἐκ πυκιναὶ καμάτῳ φρένες, οὐδέ τινʼ ἄλλην 3.290. μνῆστιν ἔχεν, γλυκερῇ δὲ κατείβετο θυμὸν ἀνίῃ. 3.291. ὡς δὲ γυνὴ μαλερῷ περὶ κάρφεα χεύατο δαλῷ 3.292. χερνῆτις, τῇπερ ταλασήια ἔργα μέμηλεν 3.293. ὥς κεν ὑπωρόφιον νύκτωρ σέλας ἐντύναιτο 3.294. ἄγχι μάλʼ ἐγρομένη· τὸ δʼ ἀθέσφατον ἐξ ὀλίγοιο 3.295. δαλοῦ ἀνεγρόμενον σὺν κάρφεα πάντʼ ἀμαθύνει· 3.296. τοῖος ὑπὸ κραδίῃ εἰλυμένος αἴθετο λάθρῃ 3.297. οὖλος Ἔρως· ἁπαλὰς δὲ μετετρωπᾶτο παρειὰς 3.298. ἐς χλόον, ἄλλοτʼ ἔρευθος, ἀκηδείῃσι νόοιο. 3.299. δμῶες δʼ ὁππότε δή σφιν ἐπαρτέα θῆκαν ἐδωδήν 3.300. αὐτοί τε λιαροῖσιν ἐφαιδρύναντο λοετροῖς 3.301. ἀσπασίως δόρπῳ τε ποτῆτί τε θυμὸν ἄρεσσαν. 3.302. ἐκ δὲ τοῦ Αἰήτης σφετέρης ἐρέεινε θυγατρὸς 3.303. υἱῆας τοίοισι παρηγορέων ἐπέεσσιν· 3.304. ‘παιδὸς ἐμῆς κοῦροι Φρίξοιό τε, τὸν περὶ πάντων 3.305. ξείνων ἡμετέροισιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔτισα 3.306. πῶς Αἶάνδε νέεσθε παλίσσυτοι; ἦέ τις ἄτη 3.307. σωομένοις μεσσηγὺς ἐνέκλασεν; οὐ μὲν ἐμεῖο 3.308. πείθεσθε προφέροντος ἀπείρονα μέτρα κελεύθου. 3.309. ᾔδειν γάρ ποτε πατρὸς ἐν ἅρμασιν Ἠελίοιο 3.310. δινεύσας, ὅτʼ ἐμεῖο κασιγνήτην ἐκόμιζεν 3.311. Κίρκην ἑσπερίης εἴσω χθονός, ἐκ δʼ ἱκόμεσθα 3.312. ἀκτὴν ἠπείρου Τυρσηνίδος, ἔνθʼ ἔτι νῦν περ 3.313. ναιετάει, μάλα πολλὸν ἀπόπροθι Κολχίδος αἴης. 3.314. ἀλλὰ τί μύθων ἦδος; ἃ δʼ ἐν ποσὶν ὗμιν ὄρωρεν 3.315. εἴπατʼ ἀριφραδέως, ἠδʼ οἵτινες οἵδʼ ἐφέπονται 3.316. ἀνέρες, ὅππῃ τε γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἔβητε.’ 3.317. τοῖά μιν ἐξερέοντα κασιγνήτων προπάροιθεν 3.318. Ἄργος ὑποδδείσας ἀμφὶ στόλῳ Αἰσονίδαο 3.319. μειλιχίως προσέειπεν, ἐπεὶ προγενέστερος ἦεν· 3.320. ‘Αἰήτη, κείνην μὲν ἄφαρ διέχευαν ἄελλαι 3.321. ζαχρηεῖς· αὐτοὺς δʼ ἐπὶ δούρασι πεπτηῶτας 3.322. νήσου Ἐνυαλίοιο ποτὶ ξερὸν ἔκβαλε κῦμα 3.323. λυγαίῃ ὑπὸ νυκτί· θεὸς δέ τις ἄμμʼ ἐσάωσεν. 3.324. οὐδὲ γὰρ αἳ τὸ πάροιθεν ἐρημαίην κατὰ νῆσον 3.325. ηὐλίζοντʼ ὄρνιθες Ἀρήιαι, οὐδʼ ἔτι κείνας 3.326. εὕρομεν. ἀλλʼ οἵγʼ ἄνδρες ἀπήλασαν, ἐξαποβάντες 3.327. νηὸς ἑῆς προτέρῳ ἐνὶ ἤματι· καί σφʼ ἀπέρυκεν 3.328. ἡμέας οἰκτείρων Ζηνὸς νόος, ἠέ τις αἶσα 3.329. αὐτίκʼ ἐπεὶ καὶ βρῶσιν ἅλις καὶ εἵματʼ ἔδωκαν 3.330. οὔνομά τε Φρίξοιο περικλεὲς εἰσαΐοντες 3.331. ἠδʼ αὐτοῖο σέθεν· μετὰ γὰρ τεὸν ἄστυ νέονται. 3.332. χρειὼ δʼ ἢν ἐθέλῃς ἐξίδμεναι, οὔ σʼ ἐπικεύσω. 3.333. τόνδε τις ἱέμενος πάτρης ἀπάνευθεν ἐλάσσαι 3.334. καὶ κτεάνων βασιλεὺς περιώσιον, οὕνεκεν ἀλκῇ 3.335. σφωιτέρῃ τάντεσσι μετέπρεπεν Αἰολίδῃσιν 3.336. πέμπει δεῦρο νέεσθαι ἀμήχανον· οὐδʼ ὑπαλύξειν 3.337. στεῦται ἀμειλίκτοιο Διὸς θυμαλγέα μῆνιν 3.338. καὶ χόλον, οὐδʼ ἄτλητον ἄγος Φρίξοιό τε ποινὰς 3.339. Αἰολιδέων γενεήν, πρὶν ἐς Ἑλλάδα κῶας ἱκέσθαι. 3.340. νῆα δʼ Ἀθηναίη Παλλὰς κάμεν, οὐ μάλα τοίην 3.341. οἷαί περ Κόλχοισι μετʼ ἀνδράσι νῆες ἔασιν 3.342. τάων αἰνοτάτης ἐπεκύρσαμεν. ἤλιθα γάρ μιν 3.343. λάβρον ὕδωρ πνοιή τε διέτμαγεν· ἡ δʼ ἐνὶ γόμφοις 3.344. ἴσχεται, ἢν καὶ πᾶσαι ἐπιβρίσωσιν ἄελλαι. 3.345. ἶσον δʼ ἐξ ἀνέμοιο θέει καὶ ὅτʼ ἀνέρες αὐτοὶ 3.346. νωλεμέως χείρεσσιν ἐπισπέρχωσιν ἐρετμοῖς. 3.347. τῇ δʼ ἐναγειράμενος Παναχαιίδος εἴ τι φέριστον 3.348. ἡρώων, τεὸν ἄστυ μετήλυθε, πόλλʼ ἐπαληθεὶς 3.349. ἄστεα καὶ πελάγη στυγερῆς ἁλός, εἴ οἱ ὀπάσσαις. 3.350. αὐτῷ δʼ ὥς κεν ἅδῃ, τὼς ἔσσεται· οὐ γὰρ ἱκάνει 3.351. χερσὶ βιησόμενος· μέμονεν δέ τοι ἄξια τίσειν 3.352. δωτίνης, ἀίων ἐμέθεν μέγα δυσμενέοντας 3.353. Σαυρομάτας, τοὺς σοῖσιν ὑπὸ σκήπτροισι δαμάσσει. 3.354. εἰ δὲ καὶ οὔνομα δῆθεν ἐπιθύεις γενεήν τε 3.355. ἴδμεναι, οἵτινές εἰσιν, ἕκαστά γε μυθησαίμην. 3.356. τόνδε μέν, οἷό περ οὕνεκʼ ἀφʼ Ἑλλάδος ὧλλοι ἄγερθεν 3.357. κλείουσʼ Αἴσονος υἱὸν Ἰήσονα Κρηθεΐδαο. 3.358. εἰ δʼ αὐτοῦ Κρηθῆος ἐτήτυμόν ἐστι γενέθλης 3.359. οὕτω κεν γνωτὸς πατρώιος ἄμμι πέλοιτο. 3.360. ἄμφω γὰρ Κρηθεὺς Ἀθάμας τʼ ἔσαν Αἰόλου υἷες· 3.361. Φρίξος δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀθάμαντος ἔην πάις Αἰολίδαο. 3.362. τόνδε δʼ ἄρʼ, Ἠελίου γόνον ἔμμεναι εἴ τινʼ ἀκούεις 3.363. δέρκεαι Αὐγείην· Τελαμὼν δʼ ὅγε, κυδίστοιο 3.364. Αἰακοῦ ἐκγεγαώς· Ζεὺς δʼ Αἰακὸν αὐτὸς ἔτικτεν. 3.365. ὧς δὲ καὶ ὧλλοι πάντες, ὅσοι συνέπονται ἑταῖροι 3.366. ἀθανάτων υἷές τε καὶ υἱωνοὶ γεγάασιν.’ 3.367. τοῖα παρέννεπεν Ἄργος· ἄναξ δʼ ἐπεχώσατο μύθοις 3.368. εἰσαΐων· ὑψοῦ δὲ χόλῳ φρένες ἠερέθοντο. 3.369. φῆ δʼ ἐπαλαστήσας· μενέαινε δὲ παισὶ μάλιστα 3.370. Χαλκιόπης· τῶν γάρ σφε μετελθέμεν οὕνεκʼ ἐώλπει· 3.371. ἐκ δέ οἱ ὄμματʼ ἔλαμψεν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσιν ἱεμένοιο· 3.372. ‘οὐκ ἄφαρ ὀφθαλμῶν μοι ἀπόπροθι, λωβητῆρες 3.373. νεῖσθʼ αὐτοῖσι δόλοισι παλίσσυτοι ἔκτοθι γαίης 3.374. πρίν τινα λευγαλέον τε δέρος καὶ Φρίξον ἰδέσθαι; 3.375. αὐτίχʼ ὁμαρτήσαντες ἀφʼ Ἑλλάδος, οὐκ ἐπὶ κῶας 3.376. σκῆπτρα δὲ καὶ τιμὴν βασιληίδα δεῦρο νέεσθε. 3.377. εἰ δέ κε μὴ προπάροιθεν ἐμῆς ἥψασθε τραπέζης 3.378. ἦ τʼ ἂν ἀπὸ γλώσσας τε ταμὼν καὶ χεῖρε κεάσσας 3.379. ἀμφοτέρας, οἴοισιν ἐπιπροέηκα πόδεσσιν 3.380. ὥς κεν ἐρητύοισθε καὶ ὕστερον ὁρμηθῆναι 3.381. οἷα δὲ καὶ μακάρεσσιν ἐπεψεύσασθε θεοῖσιν.’ 3.382. φῆ ῥα χαλεψάμενος· μέγα δὲ φρένες Αἰακίδαο 3.383. νειόθεν οἰδαίνεσκον· ἐέλδετο δʼ ἔνδοθι θυμὸς 3.384. ἀντιβίην ὀλοὸν φάσθαι ἔπος· ἀλλʼ ἀπέρυκεν 3.385. Αἰσονίδης· πρὸ γὰρ αὐτὸς ἀμείψατο μειλιχίοισιν· 3.386. ‘Αἰήτη, σχέο μοι τῷδε στόλῳ. οὔτι γὰρ αὔτως 3.387. ἄστυ τεὸν καὶ δώμαθʼ ἱκάνομεν, ὥς που ἔολπας 3.388. οὐδὲ μὲν ἱέμενοι. τίς δʼ ἂν τόσον οἶδμα περῆσαι 3.389. τλαίη ἑκὼν ὀθνεῖον ἐπὶ κτέρας; ἀλλά με δαίμων 3.390. καὶ κρυερὴ βασιλῆος ἀτασθάλου ὦρσεν ἐφετμή. 3.391. δὸς χάριν ἀντομένοισι· σέθεν δʼ ἐγὼ Ἑλλάδι πάσῃ 3.392. θεσπεσιην οἴσω κληηδόνα· καὶ δέ τοι ἤδη 3.393. πρόφρονές εἰμεν ἄρηι θοὴν ἀποτῖσαι ἀμοιβήν 3.394. εἴτʼ οὖν Σαυρομάτας γε λιλαίεαι, εἴτε τινʼ ἄλλον 3.395. δῆμον σφωιτέροισιν ὑπὸ σκήπτροισι δαμάσσαι.’ 3.396. Ἴσκεν ὑποσσαίνων ἀγανῇ ὀπί· τοῖο δὲ θυμὸς 3.397. διχθαδίην πόρφυρεν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι μενοινήν 3.398. ἤ σφεας ὁρμηθεὶς αὐτοσχεδὸν ἐξεναρίζοι 3.399. ἦ ὅγε πειρήσαιτο βίης. τό οἱ εἴσατʼ ἄρειον 3.400. φραζομένῳ· καὶ δή μιν ὑποβλήδην προσέειπεν· 3.401. ‘ξεῖνε, τί κεν τὰ ἕκαστα διηνεκέως ἀγορεύοις; 3.402. εἰ γὰρ ἐτήτυμόν ἐστε θεῶν γένος, ἠὲ καὶ ἄλλως 3.403. οὐδὲν ἐμεῖο χέρηες ἐπʼ ὀθνείοισιν ἔβητε 3.404. δώσω τοι χρύσειον ἄγειν δέρος, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα 3.405. πειρηθείς. ἐσθλοῖς γὰρ ἐπʼ ἀνδράσιν οὔτι μεγαίρω 3.406. ὡς αὐτοὶ μυθεῖσθε τὸν Ἑλλάδι κοιρανέοντα. 3.407. πεῖρα δέ τοι μένεός τε καὶ ἀλκῆς ἔσσετʼ ἄεθλος 3.408. τόν ῥʼ αὐτὸς περίειμι χεροῖν ὀλοόν περ ἐόντα. 3.409. δοιώ μοι πεδίον τὸ Ἀρήιον ἀμφινέμονται 3.410. ταύρω χαλκόποδε, στόματι φλόγα φυσιόωντες· 3.411. τοὺς ἐλάω ζεύξας στυφελὴν κατὰ νειὸν Ἄρηος 3.412. τετράγυον, τὴν αἶψα ταμὼν ἐπὶ τέλσον ἀρότρῳ 3.413. οὐ σπόρον ὁλκοῖσιν Δηοῦς ἐνιβᾴλλομαι ἀκτήν 3.414. ἀλλʼ ὄφιος δεινοῖο μεταλδήσκοντας ὀδόντας 3.415. ἀνδράσι τευχηστῇσι δέμας. τοὺς δʼ αὖθι δαΐζων 3.416. κείρω ἐμῷ ὑπὸ δουρὶ περισταδὸν ἀντιόωντας. 3.417. ἠέριος ζεύγνυμι βόας, καὶ δείελον ὥρην 3.418. παύομαι ἀμήτοιο. σύ δʼ, εἰ τάδε τοῖα τελέσσεις 3.419. αὐτῆμαρ τόδε κῶας ἀποίσεαι εἰς βασιλῆος· 3.420. πρὶν δέ κεν οὐ δοίην, μηδʼ ἔλπεο. δὴ γὰρ ἀεικὲς 3.421. ἄνδρʼ ἀγαθὸν γεγαῶτα κακωτέρῳ ἀνέρι εἶξαι.’ 3.422. ὧς ἄρʼ ἔφη· ὁ δὲ σῖγα ποδῶν πάρος ὄμματα πήξας 3.423. ἧστʼ αὔτως ἄφθογγος, ἀμηχανέων κακότητι. 3.424. βουλὴν δʼ ἀμφὶ πολὺν στρώφα χρόνον, οὐδέ πῃ εἶχεν 3.425. θαρσαλέως ὑποδέχθαι, ἐπεὶ μέγα φαίνετο ἔργον· 3.426. ὀψε δʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσελέξατο κερδαλέοισιν· 3.427. ‘Αἰήτη, μάλα τοί με δίκῃ περιπολλὸν ἐέργεις. 3.428. τῶ καὶ ἐγὼ τὸν ἄεθλον ὑπερφίαλόν περ ἐόντα 3.429. τλήσομαι, εἰ καί μοι θανέειν μόρος. οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἄλλο 3.430. ῥίγιον ἀνθρώποισι κακῆς ἐπικείσετʼ ἀνάγκης 3.431. ἥ με καὶ ἐνθάδε νεῖσθαι ἐπέχραεν ἐκ βασιλῆος.’ 3.432. ὧς φάτʼ ἀμηχανίῃ βεβολημένος· αὐτὰρ ὁ τόνγε 3.433. σμερδαλέοις ἐπέεσσι προσέννεπεν ἀσχαλόωντα· 3.434. ‘ἔρχεο νῦν μεθʼ ὅμιλον, ἐπεὶ μέμονάς γε πόνοιο· 3.435. εἰ δὲ σύγε ζυγὰ βουσὶν ὑποδδείσαις ἐπαεῖραι 3.436. ἠὲ καὶ οὐλομένου μεταχάσσεαι ἀμήτοιο 3.437. αὐτῷ κεν τὰ ἕκαστα μέλοιτό μοι, ὄφρα καὶ ἄλλος 3.438. ἀνὴρ ἐρρίγῃσιν ἀρείονα φῶτα μετελθεῖν.’ 3.584. οὐδὲ γὰρ Αἰολίδην Φρίξον μάλα περ χατέοντα 3.585. δέχθαι ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐφέστιον, ὃς περὶ πάντων 3.586. ξείνων μελιχίῃ τε θεουδείῃ τʼ ἐκέκαστο 3.587. εἰ μή οἱ Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἀπʼ οὐρανοῦ ἄγγελον ἧκεν 3.588. Ἑρμείαν, ὥς κεν προσκηδέος ἀντιάσειεν·
5. Catullus, Poems, 64 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)

6. Horace, Odes, 1.2.45-1.2.46 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)

7. Lucretius Carus, On The Nature of Things, 2.1-2.6 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)

8. Ovid, Metamorphoses, 4.101 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)

9. Propertius, Elegies, 4.4.59-4.4.61 (1st cent. BCE

10. Vergil, Aeneis, 1.1-1.494, 1.496-1.756, 2.1-2.2, 2.7, 2.44, 2.90, 2.97-2.99, 2.261, 2.762, 2.774, 3.273, 3.294-3.295, 3.590-3.654, 4.1-4.59, 4.65-4.128, 4.133, 4.138-4.139, 4.141-4.150, 4.155-4.298, 4.300-4.400, 4.402-4.705, 5.864, 6.20-6.30, 6.33-6.34, 6.450-6.474, 6.528-6.529, 7.37, 7.568, 8.618-8.619, 11.246-11.247, 11.778-11.782, 11.799-11.804 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)

1.1. Arms and the man I sing, who first made way 1.2. predestined exile, from the Trojan shore 1.3. to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand. 1.4. Smitten of storms he was on land and sea 1.5. by violence of Heaven, to satisfy 1.6. tern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war 1.7. he suffered, seeking at the last to found 1.8. the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods 1.9. to safe abode in Latium ; whence arose 1.10. the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords 1.12. O Muse, the causes tell! What sacrilege 1.13. or vengeful sorrow, moved the heavenly Queen 1.14. to thrust on dangers dark and endless toil 1.15. a man whose largest honor in men's eyes 1.17. In ages gone an ancient city stood— 1.18. Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afar 1.19. made front on Italy and on the mouths 1.20. of Tiber 's stream; its wealth and revenues 1.21. were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war. 1.22. 'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved 1.23. most cherished this,—not Samos ' self so dear. 1.24. Here were her arms, her chariot; even then 1.25. a throne of power o'er nations near and far 1.26. if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hope 1.27. to 'stablish here; but anxiously she heard 1.28. that of the Trojan blood there was a breed 1.29. then rising, which upon the destined day 1.30. hould utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers 1.31. a people of wide sway and conquest proud 1.32. hould compass Libya 's doom;—such was the web 1.33. the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear 1.34. of Saturn's daughter, who remembered well 1.35. what long and unavailing strife she waged 1.36. for her loved Greeks at Troy . Nor did she fail 1.37. to meditate th' occasions of her rage 1.38. and cherish deep within her bosom proud 1.39. its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made; 1.40. her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole race 1.41. rebellious to her godhead; and Jove's smile 1.42. that beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede. 1.43. With all these thoughts infuriate, her power 1.44. pursued with tempests o'er the boundless main 1.45. the Trojans, though by Grecian victor spared 1.46. and fierce Achilles; so she thrust them far 1.47. from Latium ; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled 1.48. year after year, o'er many an unknown sea— 1.50. Below th' horizon the Sicilian isle 1.51. just sank from view, as for the open sea 1.52. with heart of hope they sailed, and every ship 1.53. clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves. 1.54. But Juno of her everlasting wound 1.55. knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain 1.56. thus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, fail 1.57. of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King 1.58. from Italy away? Can Fate oppose? 1.59. Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame 1.60. the Argive fleet and sink its mariners 1.61. revenging but the sacrilege obscene 1.62. by Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son? 1.63. She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw 1.64. cattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms. 1.65. Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire 1.66. in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung. 1.67. But I, who move among the gods a queen 1.68. Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe 1.69. make war so long! Who now on Juno calls? 1.71. So, in her fevered heart complaining still 1.72. unto the storm-cloud land the goddess came 1.73. a region with wild whirlwinds in its womb 1.74. Aeolia named, where royal Aeolus 1.75. in a high-vaulted cavern keeps control 1.76. o'er warring winds and loud concourse of storms. 1.77. There closely pent in chains and bastions strong 1.78. they, scornful, make the vacant mountain roar 1.79. chafing against their bonds. But from a throne 1.80. of lofty crag, their king with sceptred hand 1.81. allays their fury and their rage confines. 1.82. Did he not so, our ocean, earth, and sky 1.83. were whirled before them through the vast ie. 1.84. But over-ruling Jove, of this in fear 1.85. hid them in dungeon dark: then o'er them piled 1.86. huge mountains, and ordained a lawful king 1.87. to hold them in firm sway, or know what time 1.88. with Jove's consent, to loose them o'er the world. 1.90. “Thou in whose hands the Father of all gods 1.91. and Sovereign of mankind confides the power 1.92. to calm the waters or with winds upturn 1.93. great Aeolus! a race with me at war 1.94. now sails the Tuscan main towards Italy 1.95. bringing their Ilium and its vanquished powers. 1.96. Uprouse thy gales. Strike that proud navy down! 1.97. Hurl far and wide, and strew the waves with dead! 1.98. Twice seven nymphs are mine, of rarest mould; 1.99. of whom Deiopea, the most fair 1.100. I give thee in true wedlock for thine own 1.101. to mate thy noble worth; she at thy side 1.102. hall pass long, happy years, and fruitful bring 1.104. Then Aeolus: “'T is thy sole task, O Queen 1.105. to weigh thy wish and will. My fealty 1.106. thy high behest obeys. This humble throne 1.107. is of thy gift. Thy smiles for me obtain 1.108. authority from Jove. Thy grace concedes 1.109. my station at your bright Olympian board 1.111. Replying thus, he smote with spear reversed 1.112. the hollow mountain's wall; then rush the winds 1.113. through that wide breach in long, embattled line 1.114. and sweep tumultuous from land to land: 1.115. with brooding pinions o'er the waters spread 1.116. east wind and south, and boisterous Afric gale 1.117. upturn the sea; vast billows shoreward roll; 1.118. the shout of mariners, the creak of cordage 1.119. follow the shock; low-hanging clouds conceal 1.120. from Trojan eyes all sight of heaven and day; 1.121. night o'er the ocean broods; from sky to sky 1.122. the thunders roll, the ceaseless lightnings glare; 1.123. and all things mean swift death for mortal man. 1.124. Straightway Aeneas, shuddering with amaze 1.125. groaned loud, upraised both holy hands to Heaven 1.126. and thus did plead: “O thrice and four times blest 1.127. ye whom your sires and whom the walls of Troy 1.128. looked on in your last hour! O bravest son 1.129. Greece ever bore, Tydides! O that I 1.130. had fallen on Ilian fields, and given this life 1.131. truck down by thy strong hand! where by the spear 1.132. of great Achilles, fiery Hector fell 1.133. and huge Sarpedon; where the Simois 1.134. in furious flood engulfed and whirled away 1.136. While thus he cried to Heaven, a shrieking blast 1.137. mote full upon the sail. Up surged the waves 1.138. to strike the very stars; in fragments flew 1.139. the shattered oars; the helpless vessel veered 1.140. and gave her broadside to the roaring flood 1.141. where watery mountains rose and burst and fell. 1.142. Now high in air she hangs, then yawning gulfs 1.143. lay bare the shoals and sands o'er which she drives. 1.144. Three ships a whirling south wind snatched and flung 1.145. on hidden rocks,—altars of sacrifice 1.146. Italians call them, which lie far from shore 1.147. a vast ridge in the sea; three ships beside 1.148. an east wind, blowing landward from the deep 1.149. drove on the shallows,—pitiable sight,— 1.150. and girdled them in walls of drifting sand. 1.151. That ship, which, with his friend Orontes, bore 1.152. the Lycian mariners, a great, plunging wave 1.153. truck straight astern, before Aeneas' eyes. 1.154. Forward the steersman rolled and o'er the side 1.155. fell headlong, while three times the circling flood 1.156. pun the light bark through swift engulfing seas. 1.157. Look, how the lonely swimmers breast the wave! 1.158. And on the waste of waters wide are seen 1.159. weapons of war, spars, planks, and treasures rare 1.160. once Ilium 's boast, all mingled with the storm. 1.161. Now o'er Achates and Ilioneus 1.162. now o'er the ship of Abas or Aletes 1.163. bursts the tempestuous shock; their loosened seams 1.165. Meanwhile how all his smitten ocean moaned 1.166. and how the tempest's turbulent assault 1.167. had vexed the stillness of his deepest cave 1.168. great Neptune knew; and with indigt mien 1.169. uplifted o'er the sea his sovereign brow. 1.170. He saw the Teucrian navy scattered far 1.171. along the waters; and Aeneas' men 1.172. o'erwhelmed in mingling shock of wave and sky. 1.173. Saturnian Juno's vengeful stratagem 1.174. her brother's royal glance failed not to see; 1.175. and loud to eastward and to westward calling 1.176. he voiced this word: “What pride of birth or power 1.177. is yours, ye winds, that, reckless of my will 1.178. audacious thus, ye ride through earth and heaven 1.179. and stir these mountain waves? Such rebels I— 1.180. nay, first I calm this tumult! But yourselves 1.181. by heavier chastisement shall expiate 1.182. hereafter your bold trespass. Haste away 1.183. and bear your king this word! Not unto him 1.184. dominion o'er the seas and trident dread 1.185. but unto me, Fate gives. Let him possess 1.186. wild mountain crags, thy favored haunt and home 1.187. O Eurus! In his barbarous mansion there 1.188. let Aeolus look proud, and play the king 1.190. He spoke, and swiftlier than his word subdued 1.191. the swelling of the floods; dispersed afar 1.192. th' assembled clouds, and brought back light to heaven. 1.193. Cymothoe then and Triton, with huge toil 1.194. thrust down the vessels from the sharp-edged reef; 1.195. while, with the trident, the great god's own hand 1.196. assists the task; then, from the sand-strewn shore 1.197. out-ebbing far, he calms the whole wide sea 1.198. and glides light-wheeled along the crested foam. 1.199. As when, with not unwonted tumult, roars 1.200. in some vast city a rebellious mob 1.201. and base-born passions in its bosom burn 1.202. till rocks and blazing torches fill the air 1.203. (rage never lacks for arms)—if haply then 1.204. ome wise man comes, whose reverend looks attest 1.205. a life to duty given, swift silence falls; 1.206. all ears are turned attentive; and he sways 1.207. with clear and soothing speech the people's will. 1.208. So ceased the sea's uproar, when its grave Sire 1.209. looked o'er th' expanse, and, riding on in light 1.211. Aeneas' wave-worn crew now landward made 1.212. and took the nearest passage, whither lay 1.213. the coast of Libya . A haven there 1.214. walled in by bold sides of a rocky isle 1.215. offers a spacious and secure retreat 1.216. where every billow from the distant main 1.217. breaks, and in many a rippling curve retires. 1.218. Huge crags and two confronted promontories 1.219. frown heaven-high, beneath whose brows outspread 1.220. the silent, sheltered waters; on the heights 1.221. the bright and glimmering foliage seems to show 1.222. a woodland amphitheatre; and yet higher 1.223. rises a straight-stemmed grove of dense, dark shade. 1.224. Fronting on these a grotto may be seen 1.225. o'erhung by steep cliffs; from its inmost wall 1.226. clear springs gush out; and shelving seats it has 1.227. of unhewn stone, a place the wood-nymphs love. 1.228. In such a port, a weary ship rides free 1.230. Hither Aeneas of his scattered fleet 1.231. aving but seven, into harbor sailed; 1.232. with passionate longing for the touch of land 1.233. forth leap the Trojans to the welcome shore 1.234. and fling their dripping limbs along the ground. 1.235. Then good Achates smote a flinty stone 1.236. ecured a flashing spark, heaped on light leaves 1.237. and with dry branches nursed the mounting flame. 1.238. Then Ceres' gift from the corrupting sea 1.239. they bring away; and wearied utterly 1.240. ply Ceres' cunning on the rescued corn 1.241. and parch in flames, and mill 'twixt two smooth stones. 1.242. Aeneas meanwhile climbed the cliffs, and searched 1.243. the wide sea-prospect; haply Antheus there 1.244. torm-buffeted, might sail within his ken 1.245. with biremes, and his Phrygian mariners 1.246. or Capys or Caicus armor-clad 1.247. upon a towering deck. No ship is seen; 1.248. but while he looks, three stags along the shore 1.249. come straying by, and close behind them comes 1.250. the whole herd, browsing through the lowland vale 1.251. in one long line. Aeneas stopped and seized 1.252. his bow and swift-winged arrows, which his friend 1.253. trusty Achates, close beside him bore. 1.254. His first shafts brought to earth the lordly heads 1.255. of the high-antlered chiefs; his next assailed 1.256. the general herd, and drove them one and all 1.257. in panic through the leafy wood, nor ceased 1.258. the victory of his bow, till on the ground 1.259. lay seven huge forms, one gift for every ship. 1.260. Then back to shore he sped, and to his friends 1.261. distributed the spoil, with that rare wine 1.262. which good Acestes while in Sicily 1.263. had stored in jars, and prince-like sent away 1.264. with his Ioved guest;—this too Aeneas gave; 1.266. “Companions mine, we have not failed to feel 1.267. calamity till now. O, ye have borne 1.268. far heavier sorrow: Jove will make an end 1.269. also of this. Ye sailed a course hard by 1.270. infuriate Scylla's howling cliffs and caves. 1.271. Ye knew the Cyclops' crags. Lift up your hearts! 1.272. No more complaint and fear! It well may be 1.273. ome happier hour will find this memory fair. 1.274. Through chance and change and hazard without end 1.275. our goal is Latium ; where our destinies 1.276. beckon to blest abodes, and have ordained 1.277. that Troy shall rise new-born! Have patience all! 1.279. Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care 1.280. feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore 1.281. and locked within his heart a hero's pain. 1.282. Now round the welcome trophies of his chase 1.283. they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs 1.284. and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives 1.285. and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale 1.286. place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires. 1.287. Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green 1.288. they rally their lost powers, and feast them well 1.289. on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game. 1.290. But hunger banished and the banquet done 1.291. in long discourse of their lost mates they tell 1.292. 'twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows 1.293. whether the lost ones live, or strive with death 1.294. or heed no more whatever voice may call? 1.295. Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends 1.296. Orontes brave and fallen Amycus 1.297. or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom 1.299. After these things were past, exalted Jove 1.300. from his ethereal sky surveying clear 1.301. the seas all winged with sails, lands widely spread 1.302. and nations populous from shore to shore 1.303. paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze 1.304. on Libya . But while he anxious mused 1.305. near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears 1.306. nor smiling any more, Venus approached 1.307. and thus complained: “O thou who dost control 1.308. things human and divine by changeless laws 1.309. enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong 1.310. could my Aeneas and his Trojans few 1.311. achieve against thy power? For they have borne 1.312. unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy 1.313. the gates of all the world against them close. 1.314. Hast thou not given us thy covet 1.315. that hence the Romans when the rolling years 1.316. have come full cycle, shall arise to power 1.317. from Troy 's regenerate seed, and rule supreme 1.318. the unresisted lords of land and sea? 1.319. O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I 1.320. in Troy 's most lamentable wreck and woe 1.321. consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft 1.322. our destined good against our destined ill! 1.323. But the same stormful fortune still pursues 1.324. my band of heroes on their perilous way. 1.325. When shall these labors cease, O glorious King? 1.326. Antenor, though th' Achaeans pressed him sore 1.327. found his way forth, and entered unassailed 1.328. Illyria 's haven, and the guarded land 1.329. of the Liburni. Straight up stream he sailed 1.330. where like a swollen sea Timavus pours 1.331. a nine-fold flood from roaring mountain gorge 1.332. and whelms with voiceful wave the fields below. 1.333. He built Patavium there, and fixed abodes 1.334. for Troy 's far-exiled sons; he gave a name 1.335. to a new land and race; the Trojan arms 1.336. were hung on temple walls; and, to this day 1.337. lying in perfect peace, the hero sleeps. 1.338. But we of thine own seed, to whom thou dost 1.339. a station in the arch of heaven assign 1.340. behold our navy vilely wrecked, because 1.341. a single god is angry; we endure 1.342. this treachery and violence, whereby 1.343. wide seas divide us from th' Hesperian shore. 1.344. Is this what piety receives? Or thus 1.346. Smiling reply, the Sire of gods and men 1.347. with such a look as clears the skies of storm 1.348. chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on: 1.349. “Let Cytherea cast her fears away! 1.350. Irrevocably blest the fortunes be 1.351. of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see 1.352. that City, and the proud predestined wall 1.353. encompassing Lavinium . Thyself 1.354. hall starward to the heights of heaven bear 1.355. Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves 1.356. my will once uttered. Since such carking cares 1.357. consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth 1.358. and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold. 1.359. Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war 1.360. and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall 1.361. and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond 1.362. about his gathered people. Summers three 1.363. hall Latium call him king; and three times pass 1.364. the winter o'er Rutulia's vanquished hills. 1.365. His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called 1.366. (Ilus it was while Ilium 's kingdom stood) 1.367. full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne 1.368. from the Lavinian citadel, and build 1.370. Here three full centuries shall Hector's race 1.371. have kingly power; till a priestess queen 1.372. by Mars conceiving, her twin offspring bear; 1.373. then Romulus, wolf-nursed and proudly clad 1.374. in tawny wolf-skin mantle, shall receive 1.375. the sceptre of his race. He shall uprear 1.376. and on his Romans his own name bestow. 1.377. To these I give no bounded times or power 1.378. but empire without end. Yea, even my Queen 1.379. Juno, who now chastiseth land and sea 1.380. with her dread frown, will find a wiser way 1.381. and at my sovereign side protect and bless 1.382. the Romans, masters of the whole round world 1.383. who, clad in peaceful toga, judge mankind. 1.384. Such my decree! In lapse of seasons due 1.385. the heirs of Ilium 's kings shall bind in chains 1.386. Mycenae 's glory and Achilles' towers 1.387. and over prostrate Argos sit supreme. 1.388. of Trojan stock illustriously sprung 1.389. lo, Caesar comes! whose power the ocean bounds 1.390. whose fame, the skies. He shall receive the name 1.391. Iulus nobly bore, great Julius, he. 1.392. Him to the skies, in Orient trophies dress 1.393. thou shalt with smiles receive; and he, like us 1.394. hall hear at his own shrines the suppliant vow. 1.395. Then will the world grow mild; the battle-sound 1.396. will be forgot; for olden Honor then 1.397. with spotless Vesta, and the brothers twain 1.398. Remus and Romulus, at strife no more 1.399. will publish sacred laws. The dreadful gates 1.400. whence issueth war, shall with close-jointed steel 1.401. be barred impregnably; and prisoned there 1.402. the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords 1.403. and fettered by a hundred brazen chains 1.405. These words he gave, and summoned Maia's son 1.406. the herald Mercury, who earthward flying 1.407. hould bid the Tyrian realms and new-built towers 1.408. welcome the Trojan waifs; lest Dido, blind 1.409. to Fate's decree, should thrust them from the land. 1.410. He takes his flight, with rhythmic stroke of wing 1.411. across th' abyss of air, and soon draws near 1.412. unto the Libyan mainland. He fulfils 1.413. his heavenly task; the Punic hearts of stone 1.414. grow soft beneath the effluence divine; 1.415. and, most of all, the Queen, with heart at ease 1.417. But good Aeneas, pondering all night long 1.418. his many cares, when first the cheerful dawn 1.419. upon him broke, resolved to take survey 1.420. of this strange country whither wind and wave 1.421. had driven him,—for desert land it seemed,— 1.422. to learn what tribes of man or beast possess 1.423. a place so wild, and careful tidings bring 1.424. back to his friends. His fleet of ships the while 1.425. where dense, dark groves o'er-arch a hollowed crag 1.426. he left encircled in far-branching shade. 1.427. Then with no followers save his trusty friend 1.428. Achates, he went forth upon his way 1.429. two broad-tipped javelins poising in his hand. 1.430. Deep to the midmost wood he went, and there 1.431. his Mother in his path uprose; she seemed 1.432. in garb and countece a maid, and bore 1.433. like Spartan maids, a weapon; in such guise 1.434. Harpalyce the Thracian urges on 1.435. her panting coursers and in wild career 1.436. outstrips impetuous Hebrus as it flows. 1.437. Over her lovely shoulders was a bow 1.438. lender and light, as fits a huntress fair; 1.439. her golden tresses without wimple moved 1.440. in every wind, and girded in a knot 1.441. her undulant vesture bared her marble knees. 1.442. She hailed them thus: “Ho, sirs, I pray you tell 1.443. if haply ye have noted, as ye came 1.444. one of my sisters in this wood astray? 1.445. She bore a quiver, and a lynx's hide 1.446. her spotted mantle was; perchance she roused 1.448. So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied: 1.449. “No voice or vision of thy sister fair 1.450. has crossed my path, thou maid without a name! 1.451. Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould 1.452. nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess 1.453. art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph 1.454. the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art 1.455. thy favor we implore, and potent aid 1.456. in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies 1.457. or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found! 1.458. Strange are these lands and people where we rove 1.459. compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand 1.461. Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive 1.462. honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft 1.463. bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white 1.464. lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies 1.465. the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold 1.466. Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell 1.467. the Libyans, by battles unsubdued. 1.468. Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there 1.469. from Tyre, to flee th' unnatural enmity 1.470. of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong; 1.471. too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be; 1.472. I trace the larger outline of her story: 1.473. Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad 1.474. no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed 1.475. by his ill-fated lady's fondest love 1.476. whose father gave him her first virgin bloom 1.477. in youthful marriage. But the kingly power 1.478. among the Tyrians to her brother came 1.479. Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime 1.480. in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose 1.481. a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch 1.482. blinded by greed, and reckless utterly 1.483. of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul 1.484. upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus 1.485. and at the very altar hewed him down. 1.486. Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully 1.487. deceived with false hopes, and empty words 1.488. her grief and stricken love. But as she slept 1.489. her husband's tombless ghost before her came 1.490. with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare 1.491. his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so 1.492. the blood-stained altar and the infamy 1.493. that darkened now their house. His counsel was 1.494. to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land 1.496. his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown 1.497. of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged 1.498. Dido, assembling her few trusted friends 1.499. prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause 1.500. all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king 1.501. or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships 1.502. which haply rode at anchor in the bay 1.503. and loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth 1.504. of vile and covetous Pygmalion 1.505. they took to sea. A woman wrought this deed. 1.506. Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes 1.507. behold yon walls and yonder citadel 1.508. of newly rising Carthage . For a price 1.509. they measured round so much of Afric soil 1.510. as one bull's hide encircles, and the spot 1.511. received its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray 1.512. what men are ye? from what far land arrived 1.513. and whither going?” When she questioned thus 1.514. her son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths 1.516. “Divine one, if I tell 1.517. my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause 1.518. to heed the tale, first would the vesper star 1.519. th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day 1.520. in slumber lie. of ancient Troy are we— 1.521. if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved 1.522. from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm 1.523. cast us up hither on this Libyan coast. 1.524. I am Aeneas, faithful evermore 1.525. to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear 1.526. my gods ancestral, which I snatched away 1.527. from peril of the foe. My fame is known 1.528. above the stars. I travel on in quest 1.529. of Italy, my true home-land, and I 1.530. from Jove himself may trace my birth divine. 1.531. With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main 1.532. I launched away. My mother from the skies 1.533. gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained. 1.534. Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive 1.535. the shock of wind and wave; and I myself 1.536. friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down 1.537. this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here 1.538. from Europe and from Asia exiled still!” 1.539. But Venus could not let him longer plain 1.541. “Whoe'er thou art 1.542. I deem that not unblest of heavenly powers 1.543. with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither 1.544. unto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on 1.545. and to the royal threshold make thy way! 1.546. I bring thee tidings that thy comrades all 1.547. are safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed 1.548. by favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie; 1.549. or else in vain my parents gave me skill 1.550. to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans! 1.551. A flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file 1.552. erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down 1.553. from his ethereal haunt, now form anew 1.554. their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place 1.555. or, hovering over, scan some chosen ground 1.556. or soaring high, with whir of happy wings 1.557. re-circle heaven in triumphant song: 1.558. likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners 1.559. are landed, or fly landward at full sail. 1.561. She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam 1.562. from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair 1.563. breathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes 1.564. fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed 1.565. the veritable goddess. Now he knew 1.566. that vision was his mother, and his words 1.567. pursued the fading phantom as it fled: 1.568. “Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er 1.569. with mocking dreams,—another cruel god? 1.570. Hast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange 1.571. of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?” 1.572. Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way 1.573. toward the city's rampart. Venus then 1.574. o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,— 1.575. a liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,— 1.576. that viewless they might pass, nor would any 1.577. obstruct, delay, or question why they came. 1.578. To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode 1.579. where stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines 1.580. garlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe 1.582. Meanwhile the wanderers swiftly journey on 1.583. along the clear-marked road, and soon they climb 1.584. the brow of a high hill, which close in view 1.585. o'er-towers the city's crown. The vast exploit 1.586. where lately rose but Afric cabins rude 1.587. Aeneas wondered at: the smooth, wide ways; 1.588. the bastioned gates; the uproar of the throng. 1.589. The Tyrians toil unwearied; some up-raise 1.590. a wall or citadel, from far below 1.591. lifting the ponderous stone; or with due care 1.592. choose where to build, and close the space around 1.593. with sacred furrow; in their gathering-place 1.594. the people for just governors, just laws 1.595. and for their reverend senate shout acclaim. 1.596. Some clear the harbor mouth; some deeply lay 1.597. the base of a great theatre, and carve out 1.598. proud columns from the mountain, to adorn 1.599. their rising stage with lofty ornament. 1.600. o busy bees above a field of flowers 1.601. in early summer amid sunbeams toil 1.602. leading abroad their nation's youthful brood; 1.603. or with the flowing honey storing close 1.604. the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er 1.605. with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm 1.606. they take their little loads; or lined for war 1.607. rout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive; 1.608. brisk is the task, and all the honeyed air 1.609. breathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven. 1.610. These men that see their promised ramparts rise!” 1.611. Aeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved 1.612. from tower to tower; then on his way he fared 1.613. veiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen 1.614. of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!— 1.616. Deep in the city's heart there was a grove 1.617. of beauteous shade, where once the Tyrians 1.618. cast here by stormful waves, delved out of earth 1.619. that portent which Queen Juno bade them find,— 1.620. the head of a proud horse,—that ages long 1.621. their boast might be wealth, luxury and war. 1.622. Upon this spot Sidonian Dido raised 1.623. a spacious fane to Juno, which became 1.624. plendid with gifts, and hallowed far and wide 1.625. for potency divine. Its beams were bronze 1.626. and on loud hinges swung the brazen doors. 1.627. A rare, new sight this sacred grove did show 1.628. which calmed Aeneas' fears, and made him bold 1.629. to hope for safety, and with lifted heart 1.630. from his low-fallen fortunes re-aspire. 1.631. For while he waits the advent of the Queen 1.632. he scans the mighty temple, and admires 1.633. the city's opulent pride, and all the skill 1.634. its rival craftsmen in their work approve. 1.635. Behold! he sees old Ilium 's well-fought fields 1.636. in sequent picture, and those famous wars 1.637. now told upon men's lips the whole world round. 1.638. There Atreus' sons, there kingly Priam moved 1.639. and fierce Pelides pitiless to both. 1.640. Aeneas paused, and, weeping, thus began: 1.641. “Alas, Achates, what far region now 1.642. what land in all the world knows not our pain? 1.648. So saying, he received into his heart 1.649. that visionary scene, profoundly sighed 1.650. and let his plenteous tears unheeded flow. 1.651. There he beheld the citadel of Troy 1.652. girt with embattled foes; here, Greeks in flight 1.653. ome Trojan onset 'scaped; there, Phrygian bands 1.654. before tall-plumed Achilles' chariot sped. 1.655. The snowy tents of Rhesus spread hard by 1.657. in night's first watch burst o'er them unawares 1.658. with bloody havoc and a host of deaths; 1.659. then drove his fiery coursers o'er the plain 1.660. before their thirst or hunger could be stayed 1.661. on Trojan corn or Xanthus ' cooling stream. 1.662. Here too was princely Troilus, despoiled 1.663. routed and weaponless, O wretched boy! 1.664. Ill-matched against Achilles! His wild steeds 1.665. bear him along, as from his chariot's rear 1.666. he falls far back, but clutches still the rein; 1.667. his hair and shoulders on the ground go trailing 1.668. and his down-pointing spear-head scrawls the dust. 1.669. Elsewhere, to Pallas' ever-hostile shrine 1.670. daughters of Ilium, with unsnooded hair 1.671. and lifting all in vain her hallowed pall 1.672. walked suppliant and sad, beating their breasts 1.673. with outspread palms. But her unswerving eyes 1.674. the goddess fixed on earth, and would not see. 1.675. Achilles round the Trojan rampart thrice 1.676. had dragged the fallen Hector, and for gold 1.677. was making traffic of the lifeless clay. 1.678. Aeneas groaned aloud, with bursting heart 1.679. to see the spoils, the car, the very corpse 1.680. of his lost friend,—while Priam for the dead 1.681. tretched forth in piteous prayer his helpless hands. 1.682. There too his own presentment he could see 1.683. urrounded by Greek kings; and there were shown 1.684. hordes from the East, and black-browed Memnon's arms; 1.685. her band of Amazons, with moon-shaped shields 1.686. Penthesilea led; her martial eye 1.687. flamed on from troop to troop; a belt of gold 1.688. beneath one bare, protruded breast she bound— 1.690. While on such spectacle Aeneas' eyes 1.691. looked wondering, while mute and motionless 1.692. he stood at gaze, Queen Dido to the shrine 1.693. in lovely majesty drew near; a throng 1.694. of youthful followers pressed round her way. 1.695. So by the margin of Eurotas wide 1.696. or o'er the Cynthian steep, Diana leads 1.697. her bright processional; hither and yon 1.698. are visionary legions numberless 1.699. of Oreads; the regt goddess bears 1.700. a quiver on her shoulders, and is seen 1.701. emerging tallest of her beauteous train; 1.702. while joy unutterable thrills the breast 1.703. of fond Latona: Dido not less fair 1.704. amid her subjects passed, and not less bright 1.705. her glow of gracious joy, while she approved 1.706. her future kingdom's pomp and vast emprise. 1.707. Then at the sacred portal and beneath 1.708. the temple's vaulted dome she took her place 1.709. encompassed by armed men, and lifted high 1.710. upon a throne; her statutes and decrees 1.711. the people heard, and took what lot or toil 1.712. her sentence, or impartial urn, assigned. 1.713. But, lo! Aeneas sees among the throng 1.714. Antheus, Sergestus, and Cloanthus bold 1.715. with other Teucrians, whom the black storm flung 1.716. far o'er the deep and drove on alien shores. 1.717. Struck dumb was he, and good Achates too 1.718. half gladness and half fear. Fain would they fly 1.719. to friendship's fond embrace; but knowing not 1.720. what might befall, their hearts felt doubt and care. 1.721. Therefore they kept the secret, and remained 1.722. forth-peering from the hollow veil of cloud 1.723. haply to learn what their friends' fate might be 1.724. or where the fleet was landed, or what aim 1.725. had brought them hither; for a chosen few 1.726. from every ship had come to sue for grace 1.729. and leave to speak, revered Ilioneus 1.730. with soul serene these lowly words essayed: 1.731. “O Queen, who hast authority of Jove 1.732. to found this rising city, and subdue 1.733. with righteous goverce its people proud 1.734. we wretched Trojans, blown from sea to sea 1.735. beseech thy mercy; keep the curse of fire 1.736. from our poor ships! We pray thee, do no wrong 1.737. unto a guiltless race. But heed our plea! 1.738. No Libyan hearth shall suffer by our sword 1.739. nor spoil and plunder to our ships be borne; 1.740. uch haughty violence fits not the souls 1.741. of vanquished men. We journey to a land 1.742. named, in Greek syllables, Hesperia : 1.743. a storied realm, made mighty by great wars 1.744. and wealth of fruitful land; in former days 1.745. Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said 1.746. have called it Italy, a chieftain's name 1.747. to a whole region given. Thitherward 1.748. our ships did fare; but with swift-rising flood 1.749. the stormful season of Orion's star 1.750. drove us on viewless shoals; and angry gales 1.751. dispersed us, smitten by the tumbling surge 1.752. among innavigable rocks. Behold 1.753. we few swam hither, waifs upon your shore! 1.754. What race of mortals this? What barbarous land 1.755. that with inhospitable laws ye thrust 1.756. a stranger from your coasts, and fly to arms 2.1. A general silence fell; and all gave ear 2.2. while, from his lofty station at the feast 2.7. the Greek flung down; which woeful scene I saw 2.44. that horse which loomed so large. Thymoetes then 2.90. a mark for every eye, defenceless, dazed 2.97. Such groans and anguish turned all rage away 2.98. and stayed our lifted hands. We bade him tell 2.99. his birth, his errand, and from whence might be 2.261. inside your walls, nor anywise restore 2.762. I stood there sole surviving; when, behold 2.774. my dying country, and with horrid deed 3.273. gave heed to sad Cassandra's voice divine? 3.294. or ken our way. Three days of blinding dark 3.295. three nights without a star, we roved the seas; 3.590. But Scylla, prisoned in her eyeless cave 3.591. thrusts forth her face, and pulls upon the rocks 3.592. hip after ship; the parts that first be seen 3.593. are human; a fair-breasted virgin she 3.594. down to the womb; but all that lurks below 3.595. is a huge-membered fish, where strangely join 3.596. the flukes of dolphins and the paunch of wolves. 3.597. Better by far to round the distant goal 3.598. of the Trinacrian headlands, veering wide 3.599. from thy true course, than ever thou shouldst see 3.600. that shapeless Scylla in her vaulted cave 3.601. where grim rocks echo her dark sea-dogs' roar. 3.602. Yea, more, if aught of prescience be bestowed 3.603. on Helenus, if trusted prophet he 3.604. and Phoebus to his heart true voice have given 3.605. o goddess-born, one counsel chief of all 3.606. I tell thee oft, and urge it o'er and o'er. 3.607. To Juno's godhead lift thy Ioudest prayer; 3.608. to Juno chant a fervent votive song 3.609. and with obedient offering persuade 3.610. that potent Queen. So shalt thou, triumphing 3.611. to Italy be sped, and leave behind 3.612. Trinacria . When wafted to that shore 3.613. repair to Cumae 's hill, and to the Lake 3.614. Avernus with its whispering grove divine. 3.615. There shalt thou see a frenzied prophetess 3.616. who from beneath the hollow scarped crag 3.617. ings oracles, or characters on leaves 3.618. mysterious names. Whate'er the virgin writes 3.619. on leaves inscribing the portentous song 3.620. he sets in order, and conceals them well 3.621. in her deep cave, where they abide unchanged 3.622. in due array. Yet not a care has she 3.623. if with some swinging hinge a breeze sweeps in 3.624. to catch them as they whirl: if open door 3.625. disperse them flutterlig through the hollow rock 3.626. he will not link their shifted sense anew 3.627. nor re-invent her fragmentary song. 3.628. oft her uswered votaries depart 3.629. corning the Sibyl's shrine. But deem not thou 3.630. thy tarrying too Iong, whate'er thy stay. 3.631. Though thy companions chide, though winds of power 3.632. invite thy ship to sea, and well would speed 3.633. the swelling sail, yet to that Sibyl go. 3.634. Pray that her own lips may sing forth for thee 3.635. the oracles, uplifting her dread voice 3.636. in willing prophecy. Her rede shall tell 3.637. of Italy, its wars and tribes to be 3.638. and of what way each burden and each woe 3.639. may be escaped, or borne. Her favoring aid 3.640. will grant swift, happy voyages to thy prayer. 3.641. Such counsels Heaven to my lips allows. 3.642. arise, begone! and by thy glorious deeds 3.644. So spake the prophet with benigt voice. 3.645. Then gifts he bade be brought of heavy gold 3.646. and graven ivory, which to our ships 3.647. he bade us bear; each bark was Ioaded full 3.648. with messy silver and Dodona 's pride 3.649. of brazen cauldrons; a cuirass he gave 3.650. of linked gold enwrought and triple chain; 3.651. a noble helmet, too, with flaming crest 3.652. and lofty cone, th' accoutrement erewhile 3.653. of Neoptolemus. My father too 3.654. had fit gifts from the King; whose bounty then 4.1. Now felt the Queen the sharp, slow-gathering pangs 4.2. of love; and out of every pulsing vein 4.5. keep calling to her soul; his words, his glance 4.6. cling to her heart like lingering, barbed steel 4.9. lit up all lands, and from the vaulted heaven 4.10. Aurora had dispelled the dark and dew; 4.12. of her dear sister spoke the stricken Queen: 4.13. “Anna, my sister, what disturbing dreams 4.14. perplex me and alarm? What guest is this 4.15. new-welcomed to our house? How proud his mien! 4.16. What dauntless courage and exploits of war! 4.20. has smitten him with storms! What dire extremes 4.21. of war and horror in his tale he told! 4.22. O, were it not immutably resolved 4.23. in my fixed heart, that to no shape of man 4.24. I would be wed again (since my first love 4.25. left me by death abandoned and betrayed); 4.26. loathed I not so the marriage torch and train 4.27. I could—who knows?—to this one weakness yield. 4.30. were by a brother's murder dabbled o'er 4.32. has shaken my weak will. I seem to feel 4.33. the motions of love's lost, familiar fire. 4.34. But may the earth gape open where I tread 4.35. and may almighty Jove with thunder-scourge 4.36. hurl me to Erebus' abysmal shade 4.37. to pallid ghosts and midnight fathomless 4.38. before, O Chastity! I shall offend 4.39. thy holy power, or cast thy bonds away! 4.40. He who first mingled his dear life with mine 4.41. took with him all my heart. 'T is his alone — 4.42. o, let it rest beside him in the grave!” 4.47. weet babes at thine own breast, nor gifts of love? 4.51. and long ago in Tyre . Iarbas knew 4.52. thy scorn, and many a prince and captain bred 4.54. a love that makes thee glad? Hast thou no care 4.66. and what imperial city shall be thine 4.67. if thus espoused! With Trojan arms allied 4.68. how far may not our Punic fame extend 4.69. in deeds of power? Call therefore on the gods 4.70. to favor thee; and, after omens fair 4.71. give queenly welcome, and contrive excuse 4.72. to make him tarry, while yon wintry seas 4.73. are loud beneath Orion's stormful star 4.75. So saying, she stirred a passion-burning breast 4.76. to Iove more madly still; her words infused 4.77. a doubting mind with hope, and bade the blush 4.78. of shame begone. First to the shrines they went 4.79. and sued for grace; performing sacrifice 4.83. but chiefly unto Juno, patroness 4.84. of nuptial vows. There Dido, beauteous Queen 4.86. and poured it full between the lifted horns 4.87. of the white heifer; or on temple floors 4.88. he strode among the richly laden shrines 4.89. the eyes of gods upon her, worshipping 4.90. with many a votive gift; or, peering deep 4.91. into the victims' cloven sides, she read 4.92. the fate-revealing tokens trembling there. 4.93. How blind the hearts of prophets be! Alas! 4.94. of what avail be temples and fond prayers 4.95. to change a frenzied mind? Devouring ever 4.96. love's fire burns inward to her bones; she feels 4.97. quick in her breast the viewless, voiceless wound. 4.98. Ill-fated Dido ranges up and down 4.99. the spaces of her city, desperate 4.100. her life one flame—like arrow-stricken doe 4.101. through Cretan forest rashly wandering 4.102. pierced by a far-off shepherd, who pursues 4.103. with shafts, and leaves behind his light-winged steed 4.104. not knowing; while she scours the dark ravines 4.105. of Dicte and its woodlands; at her heart 4.106. the mortal barb irrevocably clings. 4.107. around her city's battlements she guides 4.108. aeneas, to make show of Sidon 's gold 4.109. and what her realm can boast; full oft her voice 4.110. essays to speak and frembling dies away: 4.111. or, when the daylight fades, she spreads anew 4.112. a royal banquet, and once more will plead 4.113. mad that she is, to hear the Trojan sorrow; 4.114. and with oblivious ravishment once more 4.115. hangs on his lips who tells; or when her guests 4.116. are scattered, and the wan moon's fading horn 4.117. bedims its ray, while many a sinking star 4.118. invites to slumber, there she weeps alone 4.119. in the deserted hall, and casts her down 4.120. on the cold couch he pressed. Her love from far 4.121. beholds her vanished hero and receives 4.122. his voice upon her ears; or to her breast 4.123. moved by a father's image in his child 4.124. he clasps Ascanius, seeking to deceive 4.125. her unblest passion so. Her enterprise 4.126. of tower and rampart stops: her martial host 4.127. no Ionger she reviews, nor fashions now 4.128. defensive haven and defiant wall; 4.133. of honor to such frenzy spoke not, she 4.138. in lasting, vast renown—that by the snare 4.139. of two great gods in league one woman fell! 4.141. have ever been thy fear, and the proud halls 4.142. of Carthage thy vexation and annoy. 4.143. Why further go? Prithee, what useful end 4.144. has our long war? Why not from this day forth 4.145. perpetual peace and nuptial amity? 4.146. Hast thou not worked thy will? Behold and see 4.147. how Iove-sick Dido burns, and all her flesh 4.148. 'The madness feels! So let our common grace 4.149. mile on a mingled people! Let her serve 4.150. a Phrygian husband, while thy hands receive 4.155. “'T were mad to spurn such favor, or by choice 4.156. be numbered with thy foes. But can it be 4.157. that fortune on thy noble counsel smiles? 4.158. To me Fate shows but dimly whether Jove 4.159. unto the Trojan wanderers ordains 4.160. a common city with the sons of Tyre 4.161. with mingling blood and sworn, perpetual peace. 4.162. His wife thou art; it is thy rightful due 4.163. to plead to know his mind. Go, ask him, then! 4.164. For humbly I obey!” With instant word 4.165. Juno the Queen replied: “Leave that to me! 4.166. But in what wise our urgent task and grave 4.167. may soon be sped, I will in brief unfold 4.168. to thine attending ear. A royal hunt 4.169. in sylvan shades unhappy Dido gives 4.170. for her Aeneas, when to-morrow's dawn 4.171. uplifts its earliest ray and Titan's beam 4.172. hall first unveil the world. But I will pour 4.173. black storm-clouds with a burst of heavy hail 4.174. along their way; and as the huntsmen speed 4.175. to hem the wood with snares, I will arouse 4.176. all heaven with thunder. The attending train 4.177. hall scatter and be veiled in blinding dark 4.178. while Dido and her hero out of Troy 4.179. to the same cavern fly. My auspices 4.180. I will declare—if thou alike wilt bless; 4.181. and yield her in true wedlock for his bride. 4.182. Such shall their spousal be!” To Juno's will 4.183. Cythera's Queen inclined assenting brow 4.184. and laughed such guile to see. Aurora rose 4.185. and left the ocean's rim. The city's gates 4.186. pour forth to greet the morn a gallant train 4.187. of huntsmen, bearing many a woven snare 4.188. and steel-tipped javelin; while to and fro 4.189. run the keen-scented dogs and Libyan squires. 4.190. The Queen still keeps her chamber; at her doors 4.191. the Punic lords await; her palfrey, brave 4.192. in gold and purple housing, paws the ground 4.193. and fiercely champs the foam-flecked bridle-rein. 4.194. At last, with numerous escort, forth she shines: 4.195. her Tyrian pall is bordered in bright hues 4.196. her quiver, gold; her tresses are confined 4.197. only with gold; her robes of purple rare 4.198. meet in a golden clasp. To greet her come 4.199. the noble Phrygian guests; among them smiles 4.200. the boy Iulus; and in fair array 4.201. Aeneas, goodliest of all his train. 4.202. In such a guise Apollo (when he leaves 4.203. cold Lycian hills and Xanthus ' frosty stream 4.204. to visit Delos to Latona dear) 4.205. ordains the song, while round his altars cry 4.206. the choirs of many islands, with the pied 4.207. fantastic Agathyrsi; soon the god 4.208. moves o'er the Cynthian steep; his flowing hair 4.209. he binds with laurel garland and bright gold; 4.210. upon his shining shoulder as he goes 4.211. the arrows ring:—not less uplifted mien 4.212. aeneas wore; from his illustrious brow 4.213. uch beauty shone. Soon to the mountains tall 4.214. the cavalcade comes nigh, to pathless haunts 4.215. of woodland creatures; the wild goats are seen 4.216. from pointed crag descending leap by leap 4.217. down the steep ridges; in the vales below 4.218. are routed deer, that scour the spreading plain 4.219. and mass their dust-blown squadrons in wild flight 4.220. far from the mountain's bound. Ascanius 4.221. flushed with the sport, spurs on a mettled steed 4.222. from vale to vale, and many a flying herd 4.223. his chase outspeeds; but in his heart he prays 4.224. among these tame things suddenly to see 4.225. a tusky boar, or, leaping from the hills 4.227. Meanwhile low thunders in the distant sky 4.228. mutter confusedly; soon bursts in full 4.229. the storm-cloud and the hail. The Tyrian troop 4.230. is scattered wide; the chivalry of Troy 4.231. with the young heir of Dardan's kingly line 4.232. of Venus sprung, seek shelter where they may 4.233. with sudden terror; down the deep ravines 4.234. the swollen torrents roar. In that same hour 4.235. Queen Dido and her hero out of Troy 4.236. to the same cavern fly. Old Mother-Earth 4.237. and wedlock-keeping Juno gave the sign; 4.238. the flash of lightnings on the conscious air 4.239. were torches to the bridal; from the hills 4.240. the wailing wood-nymphs sobbed a wedding song. 4.241. Such was that day of death, the source and spring 4.242. of many a woe. For Dido took no heed 4.243. of honor and good-name; nor did she mean 4.244. her loves to hide; but called the lawlessness 4.246. Swift through the Libyan cities Rumor sped. 4.247. Rumor! What evil can surpass her speed? 4.248. In movement she grows mighty, and achieves 4.249. trength and dominion as she swifter flies. 4.250. mall first, because afraid, she soon exalts 4.251. her stature skyward, stalking through the lands 4.252. and mantling in the clouds her baleful brow. 4.253. The womb of Earth, in anger at high Heaven 4.254. bore her, they say, last of the Titan spawn 4.255. ister to Coeus and Enceladus. 4.256. Feet swift to run and pinions like the wind 4.257. the dreadful monster wears; her carcase huge 4.258. is feathered, and at root of every plume 4.259. a peering eye abides; and, strange to tell 4.260. an equal number of vociferous tongues 4.261. foul, whispering lips, and ears, that catch at all. 4.262. At night she spreads midway 'twixt earth and heaven 4.263. her pinions in the darkness, hissing loud 4.264. nor e'er to happy slumber gives her eyes: 4.265. but with the morn she takes her watchful throne 4.266. high on the housetops or on lofty towers 4.267. to terrify the nations. She can cling 4.268. to vile invention and maligt wrong 4.269. or mingle with her word some tidings true. 4.270. She now with changeful story filled men's ears 4.271. exultant, whether false or true she sung: 4.272. how, Trojan-born Aeneas having come 4.273. Dido, the lovely widow, Iooked his way 4.274. deigning to wed; how all the winter long 4.275. they passed in revel and voluptuous ease 4.276. to dalliance given o'er; naught heeding now 4.277. of crown or kingdom—shameless! lust-enslaved! 4.278. Such tidings broadcast on the lips of men 4.279. the filthy goddess spread; and soon she hied 4.280. to King Iarbas, where her hateful song 4.282. Him the god Ammon got by forced embrace 4.283. upon a Libyan nymph; his kingdoms wide 4.284. possessed a hundred ample shrines to Jove 4.285. a hundred altars whence ascended ever 4.286. the fires of sacrifice, perpetual seats 4.287. for a great god's abode, where flowing blood 4.288. enriched the ground, and on the portals hung 4.289. garlands of every flower. The angered King 4.290. half-maddened by maligt Rumor's voice 4.291. unto his favored altars came, and there 4.292. urrounded by the effluence divine 4.293. upraised in prayer to Jove his suppliant hands. 4.294. “Almighty Jupiter, to whom each day 4.295. at banquet on the painted couch reclined 4.296. Numidia pours libation! Do thine eyes 4.300. hoot forth blind fire to terrify the soul 4.301. with wild, unmeaning roar? O, Iook upon 4.302. that woman, who was homeless in our realm 4.303. and bargained where to build her paltry town 4.304. receiving fertile coastland for her farms 4.305. by hospitable grant! She dares disdain 4.306. our proffered nuptial vow. She has proclaimed 4.307. Aeneas partner of her bed and throne. 4.308. And now that Paris, with his eunuch crew 4.309. beneath his chin and fragrant, oozy hair 4.310. ties the soft Lydian bonnet, boasting well 4.311. his stolen prize. But we to all these fanes 4.312. though they be thine, a fruitless offering bring 4.314. As thus he prayed and to the altars clung 4.315. th' Omnipotent gave ear, and turned his gaze 4.316. upon the royal dwelling, where for love 4.317. the amorous pair forgot their place and name. 4.318. Then thus to Mercury he gave command: 4.319. “Haste thee, my son, upon the Zephyrs call 4.320. and take thy winged way! My mandate bear 4.321. unto that prince of Troy who tarries now 4.322. in Tyrian Carthage, heedless utterly 4.323. of empire Heaven-bestowed. On winged winds 4.324. hasten with my decrees. Not such the man 4.325. his beauteous mother promised; not for this 4.326. twice did she shield him from the Greeks in arms: 4.327. but that he might rule Italy, a land 4.328. pregt with thrones and echoing with war; 4.329. that he of Teucer's seed a race should sire 4.330. and bring beneath its law the whole wide world. 4.331. If such a glory and event supreme 4.332. enkindle not his bosom; if such task 4.333. to his own honor speak not; can the sire 4.334. begrudge Ascanius the heritage 4.335. of the proud name of Rome ? What plans he now? 4.336. What mad hope bids him linger in the lap 4.337. of enemies, considering no more 4.338. the land Lavinian and Ausonia's sons. 4.339. Let him to sea! Be this our final word: 4.341. He spoke. The god a prompt obedience gave 4.342. to his great sire's command. He fastened first 4.343. those sandals of bright gold, which carry him 4.344. aloft o'er land or sea, with airy wings 4.345. that race the fleeting wind; then lifted he 4.346. his wand, wherewith he summons from the grave 4.347. pale-featured ghosts, or, if he will, consigns 4.348. to doleful Tartarus; or by its power 4.349. gives slumber or dispels; or quite unseals 4.350. the eyelids of the dead: on this relying 4.351. he routs the winds or cleaves th' obscurity 4.352. of stormful clouds. Soon from his flight he spied 4.353. the summit and the sides precipitous 4.354. of stubborn Atlas, whose star-pointing peak 4.355. props heaven; of Atlas, whose pine-wreathed brow 4.356. is girdled evermore with misty gloom 4.357. and lashed of wind and rain; a cloak of snow 4.358. melts on his shoulder; from his aged chin 4.359. drop rivers, and ensheathed in stiffening ice 4.360. glitters his great grim beard. Here first was stayed 4.361. the speed of Mercury's well-poising wing; 4.362. here making pause, from hence he headlong flung 4.363. his body to the sea; in motion like 4.364. ome sea-bird's, which along the levelled shore 4.365. or round tall crags where rove the swarming fish 4.366. flies Iow along the waves: o'er-hovering so 4.367. between the earth and skies, Cyllene's god 4.368. flew downward from his mother's mountain-sire 4.369. parted the winds and skimmed the sandy merge 4.370. of Libya . When first his winged feet 4.371. came nigh the clay-built Punic huts, he saw 4.372. Aeneas building at a citadel 4.373. and founding walls and towers; at his side 4.374. was girt a blade with yellow jaspers starred 4.375. his mantle with the stain of Tyrian shell 4.376. flowed purple from his shoulder, broidered fair 4.377. by opulent Dido with fine threads of gold 4.378. her gift of love; straightway the god began: 4.379. “Dost thou for lofty Carthage toil, to build 4.380. foundations strong? Dost thou, a wife's weak thrall 4.381. build her proud city? Hast thou, shameful loss! 4.382. Forgot thy kingdom and thy task sublime? 4.383. From bright Olympus, I. He who commands 4.384. all gods, and by his sovran deity 4.385. moves earth and heaven—he it was who bade 4.386. me bear on winged winds his high decree. 4.387. What plan is thine? By what mad hope dost thou 4.388. linger so Iong in lap of Libyan land? 4.389. If the proud reward of thy destined way 4.390. move not thy heart, if all the arduous toil 4.391. to thine own honor speak not, Iook upon 4.392. Iulus in his bloom, thy hope and heir 4.393. Ascanius. It is his rightful due 4.394. in Italy o'er Roman lands to reign.” 4.395. After such word Cyllene's winged god 4.396. vanished, and e'er his accents died away 4.398. Aeneas at the sight stood terror-dumb 4.399. with choking voice and horror-rising hair. 4.400. He fain would fly at once and get him gone 4.402. at Heaven's wrathful word. Alas! how stir? 4.403. What cunning argument can plead his cause 4.404. before th' infuriate Queen? How break such news? 4.405. Flashing this way and that, his startled mind 4.406. makes many a project and surveys them all. 4.407. But, pondering well, his final counsel stopped 4.408. at this resolve: he summoned to his side 4.409. Mnestheus, Sergestus, and Serestus bold 4.410. and bade them fit the fleet, all silently 4.411. gathering the sailors and collecting gear 4.412. but carefully dissembling what emprise 4.420. his stratagem, and all the coming change 4.421. perceived ere it began. Her jealous fear 4.422. counted no hour secure. That unclean tongue 4.423. of Rumor told her fevered heart the fleet 4.425. Distractedly she raved, and passion-tossed 4.426. roamed through her city, like a Maenad roused 4.430. Finding Aeneas, thus her plaint she poured: 4.433. out of my kingdom? Did our mutual joy 4.434. not move thee; nor thine own true promise given 4.438. o fast through stormy skies? O, cruelty! 4.439. If Troy still stood, and if thou wert not bound 4.445. by our poor marriage of imperfect vow 4.446. if aught to me thou owest, if aught in me 4.447. ever have pleased thee—O, be merciful 4.448. to my low-fallen fortunes! I implore 4.449. if place be left for prayer, thy purpose change! 4.450. Because of thee yon Libyan savages 4.451. and nomad chiefs are grown implacable 4.452. and my own Tyrians hate me. Yes, for thee 4.453. my chastity was slain and honor fair 4.454. by which alone to glory I aspired 4.455. in former days. To whom dost thou in death 4.456. abandon me? my guest!—since but this name 4.457. is left me of a husband! Shall I wait 4.458. till fell Pygmalion, my brother, raze 4.459. my city walls? Or the Gaetulian king 4.460. Iarbas, chain me captive to his car? . 4.461. O, if, ere thou hadst fled, I might but bear 4.462. ome pledge of love to thee, and in these halls 4.463. watch some sweet babe Aeneas at his play 4.464. whose face should be the memory of thine own — 4.466. She said. But he, obeying Jove's decree 4.467. gazed steadfastly away; and in his heart 4.468. with strong repression crushed his cruel pain; 4.469. then thus the silence broke: “O Queen, not one 4.470. of my unnumbered debts so strongly urged 4.471. would I gainsay. Elissa's memory 4.472. will be my treasure Iong as memory holds 4.473. or breath of life is mine. Hear my brief plea! 4.474. 'T was not my hope to hide this flight I take 4.475. as thou hast dreamed. Nay, I did never light 4.476. a bridegroom's torch, nor gave I thee the vow 4.477. of marriage. Had my destiny decreed 4.478. that I should shape life to my heart's desire 4.479. and at my own will put away the weight 4.480. of foil and pain, my place would now be found 4.481. in Troy, among the cherished sepulchres 4.482. of my own kin, and Priam's mansion proud 4.483. were standing still; or these my loyal hands 4.484. had rebuilt Ilium for her vanquished sons. 4.485. But now to Italy Apollo's power 4.486. commands me forth; his Lycian oracles 4.487. are loud for Italy. My heart is there 4.488. and there my fatherland. If now the towers 4.489. of Carthage and thy Libyan colony 4.490. delight thy Tyrian eyes; wilt thou refuse 4.491. to Trojan exiles their Ausonian shore? 4.492. I too by Fate was driven, not less than thou 4.493. to wander far a foreign throne to find. 4.494. oft when in dewy dark night hides the world 4.495. and flaming stars arise, Anchises' shade 4.496. looks on me in my dreams with angered brow. 4.497. I think of my Ascanius, and the wrong 4.498. to that dear heart, from whom I steal away 4.499. Hesperia, his destined home and throne. 4.500. But now the winged messenger of Heaven 4.501. ent down by Jove (I swear by thee and me!) 4.502. has brought on winged winds his sire's command. 4.503. My own eyes with unclouded vision saw 4.504. the god within these walls; I have received 4.505. with my own ears his word. No more inflame 4.506. with lamentation fond thy heart and mine. 4.508. She with averted eyes and glance that rolled 4.509. peechless this way and that, had listened long 4.510. to his reply, till thus her rage broke forth: 4.511. “No goddess gave thee birth. No Dardanus 4.512. begot thy sires. But on its breast of stone 4.513. Caucasus bore thee, and the tigresses 4.514. of fell Hyrcania to thy baby lip 4.515. their udders gave. Why should I longer show 4.516. a lying smile? What worse can I endure? 4.517. Did my tears draw one sigh? Did he once drop 4.518. his stony stare? or did he yield a tear 4.519. to my lament, or pity this fond heart? 4.520. Why set my wrongs in order? Juno, now 4.521. and Jove, the son of Saturn, heed no more 4.522. where justice lies. No trusting heart is safe 4.523. in all this world. That waif and castaway 4.524. I found in beggary and gave him share— 4.525. fool that I was!—in my own royal glory. 4.526. His Iost fleet and his sorry crews I steered 4.527. from death away. O, how my fevered soul 4.528. unceasing raves! Forsooth Apollo speaks! 4.529. His Lycian oracles! and sent by Jove 4.530. the messenger of Heaven on fleeting air 4.531. the ruthless bidding brings! Proud business 4.532. for gods, I trow, that such a task disturbs 4.533. their still abodes! I hold thee back no more 4.534. nor to thy cunning speeches give the lie. 4.535. Begone! Sail on to Italy, thy throne 4.536. through wind and wave! I pray that, if there be 4.537. any just gods of power, thou mayest drink down 4.538. death on the mid-sea rocks, and often call 4.539. with dying gasps on Dido's name—while I 4.540. pursue with vengeful fire. When cold death rends 4.541. the body from the breath, my ghost shall sit 4.542. forever in thy path. Full penalties 4.543. thy stubborn heart shall pay. They'll bring me never 4.544. in yon deep gulf of death of all thy woe.” 4.545. Abrupt her utterance ceased; and sick at heart 4.546. he fled the light of day, as if to shrink 4.547. from human eyes, and left Aeneas there 4.548. irresolute with horror, while his soul 4.549. framed many a vain reply. Her swooning shape 4.550. her maidens to a marble chamber bore 4.552. Aeneas, faithful to a task divine 4.553. though yearning sore to remedy and soothe 4.554. uch misery, and with the timely word 4.555. her grief assuage, and though his burdened heart 4.556. was weak because of love, while many a groan 4.557. rose from his bosom, yet no whit did fail 4.558. to do the will of Heaven, but of his fleet 4.559. resumed command. The Trojans on the shore 4.560. ply well their task and push into the sea 4.561. the lofty ships. Now floats the shining keel 4.562. and oars they bring all leafy from the grove 4.563. with oak half-hewn, so hurried was the flight. 4.564. Behold them how they haste—from every gate 4.565. forth-streaming!—just as when a heap of corn 4.566. is thronged with ants, who, knowing winter nigh 4.567. refill their granaries; the long black line 4.568. runs o'er the levels, and conveys the spoil 4.569. in narrow pathway through the grass; a part 4.570. with straining and assiduous shoulder push 4.571. the kernels huge; a part array the file 4.572. and whip the laggards on; their busy track 4.573. warms quick and eager with unceasing toil. 4.574. O Dido, how thy suffering heart was wrung 4.575. that spectacle to see! What sore lament 4.576. was thine, when from the towering citadel 4.577. the whole shore seemed alive, the sea itself 4.578. in turmoil with loud cries! Relentless Love 4.579. to what mad courses may not mortal hearts 4.580. by thee be driven? Again her sorrow flies 4.581. to doleful plaint and supplication vain; 4.582. again her pride to tyrant Love bows down 4.583. lest, though resolved to die, she fail to prove 4.584. each hope of living: “O Anna, dost thou see 4.585. yon busy shore? From every side they come. 4.586. their canvas wooes the winds, and o'er each prow 4.587. the merry seamen hang their votive flowers. 4.588. Dear sister, since I did forebode this grief 4.589. I shall be strong to bear it. One sole boon 4.590. my sorrow asks thee, Anna! Since of thee 4.591. thee only, did that traitor make a friend 4.592. and trusted thee with what he hid so deep — 4.593. the feelings of his heart; since thou alone 4.594. hast known what way, what hour the man would yield 4.595. to soft persuasion—therefore, sister, haste 4.596. and humbly thus implore our haughty foe: 4.597. ‘I was not with the Greeks what time they swore 4.598. at Aulis to cut off the seed of Troy ; 4.599. I sent no ships to Ilium . Pray, have I 4.600. profaned Anchises' tomb, or vexed his shade?’ 4.601. Why should his ear be deaf and obdurate 4.602. to all I say? What haste? May he not make 4.603. one last poor offering to her whose love 4.604. is only pain? O, bid him but delay 4.605. till flight be easy and the winds blow fair. 4.606. I plead no more that bygone marriage-vow 4.607. by him forsworn, nor ask that he should lose 4.608. his beauteous Latium and his realm to be. 4.609. Nothing but time I crave! to give repose 4.610. and more room to this fever, till my fate 4.611. teach a crushed heart to sorrow. I implore 4.612. this last grace. (To thy sister's grief be kind!) 4.614. Such plaints, such prayers, again and yet again 4.615. betwixt the twain the sorrowing sister bore. 4.616. But no words move, no lamentations bring 4.617. persuasion to his soul; decrees of Fate 4.618. oppose, and some wise god obstructs the way 4.619. that finds the hero's ear. oft-times around 4.620. the aged strength of some stupendous oak 4.621. the rival blasts of wintry Alpine winds 4.622. mite with alternate wrath: Ioud is the roar 4.623. and from its rocking top the broken boughs 4.624. are strewn along the ground; but to the crag 4.625. teadfast it ever clings; far as toward heaven 4.626. its giant crest uprears, so deep below 4.627. its roots reach down to Tartarus:—not less 4.628. the hero by unceasing wail and cry 4.629. is smitten sore, and in his mighty heart 4.630. has many a pang, while his serene intent 4.632. Then wretched Dido, by her doom appalled 4.633. asks only death. It wearies her to see 4.634. the sun in heaven. Yet that she might hold fast 4.635. her dread resolve to quit the light of day 4.636. behold, when on an incense-breathing shrine 4.637. her offering was laid—O fearful tale!— 4.638. the pure libation blackened, and the wine 4.639. flowed like polluting gore. She told the sight 4.640. to none, not even to her sister's ear. 4.641. A second sign was given: for in her house 4.642. a marble altar to her husband's shade 4.643. with garlands bright and snowy fleeces dressed 4.644. had fervent worship; here strange cries were heard 4.645. as if her dead spouse called while midnight reigned 4.646. and round her towers its inhuman song 4.647. the lone owl sang, complaining o'er and o'er 4.648. with lamentation and long shriek of woe. 4.649. Forgotten oracles by wizards told 4.650. whisper old omens dire. In dreams she feels 4.651. cruel Aeneas goad her madness on 4.652. and ever seems she, friendless and alone 4.653. ome lengthening path to travel, or to seek 4.654. her Tyrians through wide wastes of barren lands. 4.655. Thus frantic Pentheus flees the stern array 4.656. of the Eumenides, and thinks to see 4.657. two noonday lights blaze oer his doubled Thebes ; 4.658. or murdered Agamemnon's haunted son 4.659. Orestes, flees his mother's phantom scourge 4.660. of flames and serpents foul, while at his door 4.661. avenging horrors wait. Now sorrow-crazed 4.662. and by her grief undone, resolved on death 4.663. the manner and the time her secret soul 4.664. prepares, and, speaking to her sister sad 4.665. he masks in cheerful calm her fatal will: 4.666. “I know a way—O, wish thy sister joy!— 4.667. to bring him back to Iove, or set me free. 4.668. On Ocean's bound and next the setting sun 4.669. lies the last Aethiop land, where Atlas tall 4.670. lifts on his shoulder the wide wheel of heaven 4.671. tudded with burning stars. From thence is come 4.672. a witch, a priestess, a Numidian crone 4.673. who guards the shrine of the Hesperides 4.674. and feeds the dragon; she protects the fruit 4.675. of that enchanting tree, and scatters there 4.676. her slumb'rous poppies mixed with honey-dew. 4.677. Her spells and magic promise to set free 4.678. what hearts she will, or visit cruel woes 4.679. on men afar. She stops the downward flow 4.680. of rivers, and turns back the rolling stars; 4.681. on midnight ghosts she calls: her vot'ries hear 4.682. earth bellowing loud below, while from the hills 4.683. the ash-trees travel down. But, sister mine 4.684. thou knowest, and the gods their witness give 4.685. how little mind have I to don the garb 4.686. of sorcery. Depart in secret, thou 4.687. and bid them build a lofty funeral pyre 4.688. inside our palalce-wall, and heap thereon 4.689. the hero's arms, which that blasphemer hung 4.690. within my chamber; every relic bring 4.691. and chiefly that ill-omened nuptial bed 4.692. my death and ruin! For I must blot out 4.693. all sight and token of this husband vile. 4.694. 'T is what the witch commands.” She spoke no more 4.695. and pallid was her brow. Yet Anna's mind 4.696. knew not what web of death her sister wove 4.697. by these strange rites, nor what such frenzy dares; 4.698. nor feared she worse than when Sichaeus died 4.700. Soon as the funeral pyre was builded high 4.701. in a sequestered garden, Iooming huge 4.702. with boughs of pine and faggots of cleft oak 4.703. the queen herself enwreathed it with sad flowers 4.704. and boughs of mournful shade; and crowning all 4.705. he laid on nuptial bed the robes and sword 5.864. nor could his guards restrain . “What madness now? 6.20. Here Daedalus, the ancient story tells 6.21. Escaping Minos' power, and having made 6.22. Hazard of heaven on far-mounting wings 6.23. Floated to northward, a cold, trackless way 6.24. And lightly poised, at last, o'er Cumae 's towers. 6.25. Here first to earth come down, he gave to thee 6.26. His gear of wings, Apollo! and ordained 6.27. Vast temples to thy name and altars fair. 6.28. On huge bronze doors Androgeos' death was done; 6.29. And Cecrops' children paid their debt of woe 6.30. Where, seven and seven,—0 pitiable sight!— 6.33. Beyond, above a sea, lay carven Crete :— 6.34. The bull was there; the passion, the strange guile; 6.450. Then he, “0 chieftain of Anchises' race 6.451. Apollo's tripod told thee not untrue. 6.452. No god did thrust me down beneath the wave 6.453. For that strong rudder unto which I clung 6.454. My charge and duty, and my ship's sole guide 6.455. Wrenched from its place, dropped with me as I fell. 6.456. Not for myself—by the rude seas I swear— 6.457. Did I have terror, but lest thy good ship 6.458. Stripped of her gear, and her poor pilot lost 6.459. Should fail and founder in that rising flood. 6.460. Three wintry nights across the boundless main 6.461. The south wind buffeted and bore me on; 6.462. At the fourth daybreak, lifted from the surge 6.463. I looked at last on Italy, and swam 6.464. With weary stroke on stroke unto the land. 6.465. Safe was I then. Alas! but as I climbed 6.466. With garments wet and heavy, my clenched hand 6.467. Grasping the steep rock, came a cruel horde 6.468. Upon me with drawn blades, accounting me— 6.469. So blind they were!—a wrecker's prize and spoil. 6.470. Now are the waves my tomb; and wandering winds 6.471. Toss me along the coast. 0, I implore 6.472. By heaven's sweet light, by yonder upper air 6.473. By thy lost father, by lulus dear 6.474. Thy rising hope and joy, that from these woes 6.528. Then cooled his wrathful heart; 6.529. With silent lips he looked and wondering eyes 7.37. Then, gazing from the deep, Aeneas saw 7.568. exultant go! Assail the Phrygian chiefs 8.618. and promised gift. Aeneas with like mind 8.619. was stirring early. King Evander's son 11.246. all ancient ritual. The fuming fires 11.247. burned from beneath, till highest heaven was hid 11.778. this Iove of war had ne'er seduced her mind 11.779. the Teucrians to provoke! So might she be 11.780. one of our wood-nymphs still. But haste, I pray 11.781. for bitter is her now impending doom. 11.782. Descend, dear nymph, from heaven, and explore 11.803. and all the plain burns bright with lifted steel. 11.804. Messapus and swift Latin cavalry
11. Silius Italicus, Punica, 13.791, 17.651 (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)

12. Statius, Siluae, 3.1.12-3.1.19, 4.2.20-4.2.27, 4.2.30-4.2.31 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)

13. Suetonius, Augustus, 29.3 (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)

14. Tacitus, Annals, 1.33 (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)

1.33.  In the meantime, Germanicus, as we have stated, was traversing the Gallic provinces and assessing their tribute, when the message came that Augustus was no more. Married to the late emperor's granddaughter Agrippina, who had borne him several children, and himself a grandchild of the dowager (he was the son of Tiberius' brother Drusus), he was tormented none the less by the secret hatred of his uncle and grandmother — hatred springing from motives the more potent because iniquitous. For Drusus was still a living memory to the nation, and it was believed that, had he succeeded, he would have restored the age of liberty; whence the same affection and hopes centred on the young Germanicus with his unassuming disposition and his exceptional courtesy, so far removed from the inscrutable arrogance of word and look which characterized Tiberius. Feminine animosities increased the tension as Livia had a stepmother's irritable dislike of Agrippina, whose own temper was not without a hint of fire, though purity of mind and wifely devotion kept her rebellious spirit on the side of righteousness.
15. Valerius Flaccus Gaius, Argonautica, 1.107-1.129, 1.149-1.160, 1.164-1.173, 1.252-1.295, 1.531-1.567, 1.574-1.692, 2.174, 3.549-3.551, 4.30, 5.350-5.352, 5.362, 5.392, 5.415-5.454 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)

16. Pliny The Younger, Letters, 5.6, 5.6.43-5.6.44 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)

5.6. To Domitius Apollinaris. I was charmed with the kind consideration which led you, when you heard that I was about to visit my Tuscan villa in the summer, to advise me not to do so during the season when you consider the district unhealthy. Undoubtedly, the region along the Tuscan coast is trying and dangerous to the health, but my property lies well back from the sea; indeed, it is just under the Apennines, which are the healthiest of our mountain ranges. However, that you may not have the slightest anxiety on my account, let me tell you all about the climatic conditions, the lie of the land, and the charms of my villa. It will be as pleasant reading for you as it is pleasant writing for me. In winter the air is cold and frosty The contour of the district is most beautiful. Picture to yourself an immense amphitheatre, such as only Nature can create, with a wide-spreading plain ringed with hills, and the summits of the hills themselves covered with tall and ancient forests. There is plentiful and varied hunting to be had. Down the mountain slopes there are stretches of timber woods, and among these are rich, deep-soiled hillocks - where if you look for a stone you will have hard work to find one - which are just as fertile as the most level plains, and ripen just as rich harvests, though later in the season. Below these, along the whole hillsides, stretch the vineyards which present an unbroken line far and wide, on the borders and lowest level of which comes a fringe of trees. Then you reach the meadows and the fields - fields which only the most powerful oxen and the stoutest ploughs can turn. The soil is so tough and composed of such thick clods that when it is first broken up it has to be furrowed nine times before it is subdued. The meadows are jewelled with flowers, and produce trefoil and other herbs, always tender and soft, and looking as though they were always fresh. For all parts are well nourished by never-failing streams, and even where there is most water there are no swamps, for the slope of the land drains off into the Tiber all the moisture that it receives and cannot itself absorb. The Tiber runs through the middle of the plain; it is navigable for ships, and all the grain is carried downstream to the city, at least in winter and spring. In summer the volume of water dwindles away, leaving but the name of a great river to the dried-up bed, but in the autumn it recovers its flood. You would be delighted if you could obtain a view of the district from the mountain height, for you would think you were looking not so much at earth and fields as at a beautiful landscape picture of wonderful loveliness. Such is the variety, such the arrangement of the scene, that wherever the eyes fall they are sure to be refreshed. My villa, though it lies at the foot of the hill, enjoys as fine a prospect as though it stood on the summit; the ascent is so gentle and easy, and the gradient so unnoticeable, that you find yourself at the top without feeling that you are ascending. The Apennines lie behind it, but at a considerable distance, and even on a cloudless and still day it gets a breeze from this range, never boisterous and rough, for its strength is broken and lost in the distance it has to travel. Most of the house faces south; in summer it gets the sun from the sixth hour, and in winter considerably earlier, inviting it as it were into the portico, which is broad and long to correspond, and contains a number of apartments and an old-fashioned hall. In front, there is a terrace laid out in different patterns and bounded with an edging of box; then comes a sloping ridge with figures of animals on both sides cut out of the box-trees, while on the level ground stands an acanthus-tree, with leaves so soft that I might almost call them liquid. Round this is a walk bordered by evergreens pressed and trimmed into various shapes; then comes an exercise ground, round like a circus, which surrounds the box-trees that are cut into different forms, and the dwarf shrubs that are kept clipped. Everything is protected by an enclosure, which is hidden and withdrawn from sight by the tiers of box-trees. Beyond is a meadow, as well worth seeing for its natural charm as the features just described are for their artificial beauty, and beyond that there stretches an expanse of fields and a number of other meadows and thickets. At the head of the portico there runs out the dining-room, from the doors of which can be seen the end of the terrace with the meadow and a good expanse of country beyond it, while from the windows the view on the one hand commands one side of the terrace and the part of the villa which juts out, and on the other the grove and foliage of the adjoining riding-school. Almost opposite to the middle of the portico is a summer-house standing back a little, with a small open space in the middle shaded by four plane-trees. Among them is a marble fountain, from which the water plays upon and lightly sprinkles the roots of the plane-trees and the grass plot beneath them. In this summer-house there is a bed-chamber which excludes all light, noise, and sound, and adjoining it is a dining-room for my friends, which faces upon the small court and the other portico, and commands the view enjoyed by the latter. There is another bed-chamber, which is leafy and shaded by the nearest plane-tree and built of marble up to the balcony; above is a picture of a tree with birds perched in the branches equally beautiful with the marble. Here there is a small fountain with a basin around the latter, and the water runs into it from a number of small pipes, which produce a most agreeable sound. In the corner of the portico is a spacious bed-chamber leading out of the dining-room, some of its windows looking out upon the terrace, others upon the meadow, while the windows in front face the fish-pond which lies just beneath them, and is pleasant both to eye and ear, as the water falls from a considerable elevation and glistens white as it is caught in the marble basin. This bed-chamber is beautifully warm even in winter, for it is flooded with an abundance of sunshine. The heating chamber for the bath adjoins it, and on a cloudy day we turn in steam to take the place of the sun's warmth. Next comes a roomy and cheerful undressing room for the bath, from which you pass into a cool chamber containing a large and shady swimming bath. If you prefer more room or warmer water to swim in, there is a pond in the court with a well adjoining it, from which you can make the water colder when you are tired of the warm. Adjoining the cold bath is one of medium warmth, for the sun shines lavishly upon it, but not so much as upon the hot bath which is built farther out. There are three sets of steps leading to it, two exposed to the sun, and the third out of the sun though quite as light. Above the dressing-room is a ball court where various kinds of exercise can be taken, and a number of games can be played at once. Not far from the bath-room is a staircase leading to a covered passage, at the head of which are three rooms, one looking out upon the courtyard with the four plane-trees, the second upon the meadow, and the third upon the vineyards, so each therefore enjoys a different view. At the end of the passage is a bed-chamber constructed out of the passage itself, which looks out upon the riding-course, the vineyards, and the mountains. Connected with it is another bed-chamber open to the sun, and especially so in winter time. Leading out of this is an apartment which adjoins the riding-course of the villa. Such is the appearance and the use to which the front of my house is put. At the side is a raised covered gallery, which seems not so much to look out upon the vineyards as to touch them; in the middle is a dining-room which gets the invigorating breezes from the valleys of the Apennines, while at the other side, through the spacious windows and the folding doors, you seem to be close upon the vineyards again with the gallery between. On the side of the room where there are no windows is a private winding staircase by which the servants bring up the requisites for a meal. At the end of the gallery is a bed-chamber, and the gallery itself affords as pleasant a prospect from there as the vineyards. Underneath runs a sort of subterranean gallery, which in summer time remains perfectly cool, and as it has sufficient air within it, it neither admits any from without nor needs any. Next to both these galleries the portico commences where the dining-room ends, and this is cold before mid-day, and summery when the sun has reached his zenith. This gives the approach to two apartments, one of which contains four beds and the other three, and they are bathed in sunshine or steeped in shadow, according to the position of the sun. But though the arrangements of the house itself are charming, they are far and away surpassed by the riding-course. It is quite open in the centre, and the moment you enter your eye ranges over the whole of it. Around its borders are plane-trees clothed with ivy, and so while the foliage at the top belongs to the trees themselves, that on the lower parts belongs to the ivy, which creeps along the trunk and branches, and spreading across to the neighbouring trees, joins them together. Between the plane-trees are box shrubs, and on the farther side of the shrubs is a ring of laurels which mingle their shade with that of the plane-trees. At the far end, the straight boundary of the riding-course is curved into semi-circular form, which quite changes its appearance. It is enclosed and covered with cypress-trees, the deeper shade of which makes it darker and gloomier than at the sides, but the inner circles - for there are more than one - are quite open to the sunshine. Even roses grow there, and the warmth of the sun is delightful as a change from the cool of the shade. When you come to the end of these various winding alleys, the boundary again runs straight, or should I say boundaries, for there are a number of paths with box shrubs between them. In places there are grass plots intervening, in others box shrubs, which are trimmed to a great variety of patterns, some of them being cut into letters forming my name as owner and that of the gardener. Here and there are small pyramids and apple-trees, and now and then in the midst of all this graceful artificial work you suddenly come upon what looks like a real bit of the country planted there. The intervening space is beautified on both sides with dwarf plane-trees; beyond these is the acanthus-tree that is supple and flexible to the hand, and there are more boxwood figures and names. At the upper end is a couch of white marble covered with a vine, the latter being supported by four small pillars of Carystian marble. Jets of water flow from the couch through small pipes and look as if they were forced out by the weight of persons reclining thereon, and the water is caught in a stone cistern and then retained in a graceful marble basin, regulated by pipes out of sight, so that the basin, while always full, never overflows. The heavier dishes and plates are placed at the side of the basin when I dine there, but the lighter ones, formed into the shapes of little boats and birds, float on the surface and travel round and round. Facing this is a fountain which receives back the water it expels, for the water is thrown up to a considerable height and then falls down again, and the pipes that perform the two processes are connected. Directly opposite the couch is a bed-chamber, and each lends a grace to the other. It is formed of glistening marble, and through the projecting folding doors you pass at once among the foliage, while both from the upper and lower windows you look out upon the same green picture. Within is a little cabinet which seems to belong at once to the same and yet another bed-chamber. This contains a bed and it has windows on every side, yet the shade is so thick outside that very little light enters, for a wonderfully luxuriant vine has climbed up to the roof and covers the whole building. You can fancy you are in a grove as you lie there, only that you do not feel the rain as you do among trees. Here too a fountain rises and immediately loses itself underground. There are a number of marble chairs placed up and down, which are as restful for persons tired with walking as the bed-chamber itself. Near these chairs are little fountains, and throughout the whole riding-course you hear the murmur of tiny streams carried through pipes, which run wherever you please to direct them. These are used to water the shrubs, sometimes in one part, sometimes in another, and at other times all are watered together. I should long since have been afraid of boring you, had I not set out in this letter to take you with me round every corner of my estate. For I am not at all apprehensive that you will find it tedious to read about a place which certainly would not tire you to look at, especially as you can get a little rest whenever you desire, and can sit down, so to speak, by laying down the letter. Moreover, I have been indulging my affection for the place, for I am greatly attached to anything that is mainly the work of my own hands or that someone else has begun and I have taken up. In short - for there is no reason is there? why I should not be frank with you, whether my judgments are sound or unsound - I consider that it is the first duty of a writer to select the title of his work and constantly ask himself what he has begun to write about. He may be sure that so long as he keeps to his subject-matter he will not be tedious, but that he will bore his readers to distraction if he starts dragging in extraneous matter to make weight. Observe the length with which Homer describes the arms of Achilles, and Virgil the arms of Aeneas - yet in both cases the description seems short, because the author only carries out what he intended to. Observe how Aratus hunts up and brings together even the tiniest stars - yet he does not exceed due limits. For his description is not an excursus, but the end and aim of the whole work. It is the same with myself, if I may compare my lowly efforts with their great ones. I have been trying to give you a bird's eye view of the whole of my villa, and if I have introduced no extraneous matter and have never wandered off my subject, it is not the letter containing the description which is to be considered of excessive size, but rather the villa which has been described. However, let me get back to the point I started from, lest I give you an opportunity of justly condemning me by my own law, by not pursuing this digression any farther. I have explained to you why I prefer my Tuscan house to my other places at Tusculum, Tibur and Praeneste. For in addition to all the beauties I have described above, my repose here is more profound and more comfortable, and therefore all the freer from anxiety. There is no necessity to don the toga, no neighbour ever calls to drag me out; everything is placid and quiet; and this peace adds to the healthiness of the place, by giving it, so to speak, a purer sky and a more liquid air. I enjoy better health both in mind and body here than anywhere else, for I exercise the former by study and the latter by hunting. Besides, there is no place where my household keep in better trim, and up to the present I have not lost a single one of all whom I brought with me. I hope Heaven will forgive the boast, and that the gods will continue my happiness to me and preserve this place in all its beauty. Farewell.
17. Pliny The Younger, Letters, 5.6, 5.6.43-5.6.44 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)

5.6. To Domitius Apollinaris. I was charmed with the kind consideration which led you, when you heard that I was about to visit my Tuscan villa in the summer, to advise me not to do so during the season when you consider the district unhealthy. Undoubtedly, the region along the Tuscan coast is trying and dangerous to the health, but my property lies well back from the sea; indeed, it is just under the Apennines, which are the healthiest of our mountain ranges. However, that you may not have the slightest anxiety on my account, let me tell you all about the climatic conditions, the lie of the land, and the charms of my villa. It will be as pleasant reading for you as it is pleasant writing for me. In winter the air is cold and frosty The contour of the district is most beautiful. Picture to yourself an immense amphitheatre, such as only Nature can create, with a wide-spreading plain ringed with hills, and the summits of the hills themselves covered with tall and ancient forests. There is plentiful and varied hunting to be had. Down the mountain slopes there are stretches of timber woods, and among these are rich, deep-soiled hillocks - where if you look for a stone you will have hard work to find one - which are just as fertile as the most level plains, and ripen just as rich harvests, though later in the season. Below these, along the whole hillsides, stretch the vineyards which present an unbroken line far and wide, on the borders and lowest level of which comes a fringe of trees. Then you reach the meadows and the fields - fields which only the most powerful oxen and the stoutest ploughs can turn. The soil is so tough and composed of such thick clods that when it is first broken up it has to be furrowed nine times before it is subdued. The meadows are jewelled with flowers, and produce trefoil and other herbs, always tender and soft, and looking as though they were always fresh. For all parts are well nourished by never-failing streams, and even where there is most water there are no swamps, for the slope of the land drains off into the Tiber all the moisture that it receives and cannot itself absorb. The Tiber runs through the middle of the plain; it is navigable for ships, and all the grain is carried downstream to the city, at least in winter and spring. In summer the volume of water dwindles away, leaving but the name of a great river to the dried-up bed, but in the autumn it recovers its flood. You would be delighted if you could obtain a view of the district from the mountain height, for you would think you were looking not so much at earth and fields as at a beautiful landscape picture of wonderful loveliness. Such is the variety, such the arrangement of the scene, that wherever the eyes fall they are sure to be refreshed. My villa, though it lies at the foot of the hill, enjoys as fine a prospect as though it stood on the summit; the ascent is so gentle and easy, and the gradient so unnoticeable, that you find yourself at the top without feeling that you are ascending. The Apennines lie behind it, but at a considerable distance, and even on a cloudless and still day it gets a breeze from this range, never boisterous and rough, for its strength is broken and lost in the distance it has to travel. Most of the house faces south; in summer it gets the sun from the sixth hour, and in winter considerably earlier, inviting it as it were into the portico, which is broad and long to correspond, and contains a number of apartments and an old-fashioned hall. In front, there is a terrace laid out in different patterns and bounded with an edging of box; then comes a sloping ridge with figures of animals on both sides cut out of the box-trees, while on the level ground stands an acanthus-tree, with leaves so soft that I might almost call them liquid. Round this is a walk bordered by evergreens pressed and trimmed into various shapes; then comes an exercise ground, round like a circus, which surrounds the box-trees that are cut into different forms, and the dwarf shrubs that are kept clipped. Everything is protected by an enclosure, which is hidden and withdrawn from sight by the tiers of box-trees. Beyond is a meadow, as well worth seeing for its natural charm as the features just described are for their artificial beauty, and beyond that there stretches an expanse of fields and a number of other meadows and thickets. At the head of the portico there runs out the dining-room, from the doors of which can be seen the end of the terrace with the meadow and a good expanse of country beyond it, while from the windows the view on the one hand commands one side of the terrace and the part of the villa which juts out, and on the other the grove and foliage of the adjoining riding-school. Almost opposite to the middle of the portico is a summer-house standing back a little, with a small open space in the middle shaded by four plane-trees. Among them is a marble fountain, from which the water plays upon and lightly sprinkles the roots of the plane-trees and the grass plot beneath them. In this summer-house there is a bed-chamber which excludes all light, noise, and sound, and adjoining it is a dining-room for my friends, which faces upon the small court and the other portico, and commands the view enjoyed by the latter. There is another bed-chamber, which is leafy and shaded by the nearest plane-tree and built of marble up to the balcony; above is a picture of a tree with birds perched in the branches equally beautiful with the marble. Here there is a small fountain with a basin around the latter, and the water runs into it from a number of small pipes, which produce a most agreeable sound. In the corner of the portico is a spacious bed-chamber leading out of the dining-room, some of its windows looking out upon the terrace, others upon the meadow, while the windows in front face the fish-pond which lies just beneath them, and is pleasant both to eye and ear, as the water falls from a considerable elevation and glistens white as it is caught in the marble basin. This bed-chamber is beautifully warm even in winter, for it is flooded with an abundance of sunshine. The heating chamber for the bath adjoins it, and on a cloudy day we turn in steam to take the place of the sun's warmth. Next comes a roomy and cheerful undressing room for the bath, from which you pass into a cool chamber containing a large and shady swimming bath. If you prefer more room or warmer water to swim in, there is a pond in the court with a well adjoining it, from which you can make the water colder when you are tired of the warm. Adjoining the cold bath is one of medium warmth, for the sun shines lavishly upon it, but not so much as upon the hot bath which is built farther out. There are three sets of steps leading to it, two exposed to the sun, and the third out of the sun though quite as light. Above the dressing-room is a ball court where various kinds of exercise can be taken, and a number of games can be played at once. Not far from the bath-room is a staircase leading to a covered passage, at the head of which are three rooms, one looking out upon the courtyard with the four plane-trees, the second upon the meadow, and the third upon the vineyards, so each therefore enjoys a different view. At the end of the passage is a bed-chamber constructed out of the passage itself, which looks out upon the riding-course, the vineyards, and the mountains. Connected with it is another bed-chamber open to the sun, and especially so in winter time. Leading out of this is an apartment which adjoins the riding-course of the villa. Such is the appearance and the use to which the front of my house is put. At the side is a raised covered gallery, which seems not so much to look out upon the vineyards as to touch them; in the middle is a dining-room which gets the invigorating breezes from the valleys of the Apennines, while at the other side, through the spacious windows and the folding doors, you seem to be close upon the vineyards again with the gallery between. On the side of the room where there are no windows is a private winding staircase by which the servants bring up the requisites for a meal. At the end of the gallery is a bed-chamber, and the gallery itself affords as pleasant a prospect from there as the vineyards. Underneath runs a sort of subterranean gallery, which in summer time remains perfectly cool, and as it has sufficient air within it, it neither admits any from without nor needs any. Next to both these galleries the portico commences where the dining-room ends, and this is cold before mid-day, and summery when the sun has reached his zenith. This gives the approach to two apartments, one of which contains four beds and the other three, and they are bathed in sunshine or steeped in shadow, according to the position of the sun. But though the arrangements of the house itself are charming, they are far and away surpassed by the riding-course. It is quite open in the centre, and the moment you enter your eye ranges over the whole of it. Around its borders are plane-trees clothed with ivy, and so while the foliage at the top belongs to the trees themselves, that on the lower parts belongs to the ivy, which creeps along the trunk and branches, and spreading across to the neighbouring trees, joins them together. Between the plane-trees are box shrubs, and on the farther side of the shrubs is a ring of laurels which mingle their shade with that of the plane-trees. At the far end, the straight boundary of the riding-course is curved into semi-circular form, which quite changes its appearance. It is enclosed and covered with cypress-trees, the deeper shade of which makes it darker and gloomier than at the sides, but the inner circles - for there are more than one - are quite open to the sunshine. Even roses grow there, and the warmth of the sun is delightful as a change from the cool of the shade. When you come to the end of these various winding alleys, the boundary again runs straight, or should I say boundaries, for there are a number of paths with box shrubs between them. In places there are grass plots intervening, in others box shrubs, which are trimmed to a great variety of patterns, some of them being cut into letters forming my name as owner and that of the gardener. Here and there are small pyramids and apple-trees, and now and then in the midst of all this graceful artificial work you suddenly come upon what looks like a real bit of the country planted there. The intervening space is beautified on both sides with dwarf plane-trees; beyond these is the acanthus-tree that is supple and flexible to the hand, and there are more boxwood figures and names. At the upper end is a couch of white marble covered with a vine, the latter being supported by four small pillars of Carystian marble. Jets of water flow from the couch through small pipes and look as if they were forced out by the weight of persons reclining thereon, and the water is caught in a stone cistern and then retained in a graceful marble basin, regulated by pipes out of sight, so that the basin, while always full, never overflows. The heavier dishes and plates are placed at the side of the basin when I dine there, but the lighter ones, formed into the shapes of little boats and birds, float on the surface and travel round and round. Facing this is a fountain which receives back the water it expels, for the water is thrown up to a considerable height and then falls down again, and the pipes that perform the two processes are connected. Directly opposite the couch is a bed-chamber, and each lends a grace to the other. It is formed of glistening marble, and through the projecting folding doors you pass at once among the foliage, while both from the upper and lower windows you look out upon the same green picture. Within is a little cabinet which seems to belong at once to the same and yet another bed-chamber. This contains a bed and it has windows on every side, yet the shade is so thick outside that very little light enters, for a wonderfully luxuriant vine has climbed up to the roof and covers the whole building. You can fancy you are in a grove as you lie there, only that you do not feel the rain as you do among trees. Here too a fountain rises and immediately loses itself underground. There are a number of marble chairs placed up and down, which are as restful for persons tired with walking as the bed-chamber itself. Near these chairs are little fountains, and throughout the whole riding-course you hear the murmur of tiny streams carried through pipes, which run wherever you please to direct them. These are used to water the shrubs, sometimes in one part, sometimes in another, and at other times all are watered together. I should long since have been afraid of boring you, had I not set out in this letter to take you with me round every corner of my estate. For I am not at all apprehensive that you will find it tedious to read about a place which certainly would not tire you to look at, especially as you can get a little rest whenever you desire, and can sit down, so to speak, by laying down the letter. Moreover, I have been indulging my affection for the place, for I am greatly attached to anything that is mainly the work of my own hands or that someone else has begun and I have taken up. In short - for there is no reason is there? why I should not be frank with you, whether my judgments are sound or unsound - I consider that it is the first duty of a writer to select the title of his work and constantly ask himself what he has begun to write about. He may be sure that so long as he keeps to his subject-matter he will not be tedious, but that he will bore his readers to distraction if he starts dragging in extraneous matter to make weight. Observe the length with which Homer describes the arms of Achilles, and Virgil the arms of Aeneas - yet in both cases the description seems short, because the author only carries out what he intended to. Observe how Aratus hunts up and brings together even the tiniest stars - yet he does not exceed due limits. For his description is not an excursus, but the end and aim of the whole work. It is the same with myself, if I may compare my lowly efforts with their great ones. I have been trying to give you a bird's eye view of the whole of my villa, and if I have introduced no extraneous matter and have never wandered off my subject, it is not the letter containing the description which is to be considered of excessive size, but rather the villa which has been described. However, let me get back to the point I started from, lest I give you an opportunity of justly condemning me by my own law, by not pursuing this digression any farther. I have explained to you why I prefer my Tuscan house to my other places at Tusculum, Tibur and Praeneste. For in addition to all the beauties I have described above, my repose here is more profound and more comfortable, and therefore all the freer from anxiety. There is no necessity to don the toga, no neighbour ever calls to drag me out; everything is placid and quiet; and this peace adds to the healthiness of the place, by giving it, so to speak, a purer sky and a more liquid air. I enjoy better health both in mind and body here than anywhere else, for I exercise the former by study and the latter by hunting. Besides, there is no place where my household keep in better trim, and up to the present I have not lost a single one of all whom I brought with me. I hope Heaven will forgive the boast, and that the gods will continue my happiness to me and preserve this place in all its beauty. Farewell.


Subjects of this text:

subject book bibliographic info
achaemenides Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 193
achates Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
acropolis, in the aeneid Giusti, Disclosure and Discretion in Roman Astrology: Manilius and his Augustan Contemporaries (2018) 119
aeetes Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89
aemulatio Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 192, 193
aeneas, in iliad Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 192
aeneas Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295; Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80; Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108; Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 74, 76, 77, 89, 94; Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281; Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99, 194, 197; Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112; de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555, 561
aeneas and odysseus Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 191, 192, 193
aeneid and odyssey Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 191, 192, 193
africa Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
aietes Giusti, Disclosure and Discretion in Roman Astrology: Manilius and his Augustan Contemporaries (2018) 119
ajax Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
alcinous Giusti, Disclosure and Discretion in Roman Astrology: Manilius and his Augustan Contemporaries (2018) 119
alexis Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
allecto Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
amazons, penthesilea Blum and Biggs, The Epic Journey in Greek and Roman Literature (2019) 135
amazons Blum and Biggs, The Epic Journey in Greek and Roman Literature (2019) 135; Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 77
amphion Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
anchises, seduction of Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
aphrodite (venus) Blum and Biggs, The Epic Journey in Greek and Roman Literature (2019) 135
apollo, phoebus Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
apollonius of rhodes, on medea Giusti, Disclosure and Discretion in Roman Astrology: Manilius and his Augustan Contemporaries (2018) 119
apollonius rhodius Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89
argo Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 74, 75, 76, 77, 94
aristotle Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
arms, in epic Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
art work, as object of gaze Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
artemis Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
astonishment Graverini, Literature and Identity in The Golden Ass of Apuleius (2012) 179
attention, forms of, and length of description Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
aural signals Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 191
authentic versus copy, and pleasure Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
bacchus Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 197
body de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 561
callimachus, callimacheanism\u2003 Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89, 94
capitoline hill Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99, 194
carthage Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 75, 76, 77, 89, 94
carthaginian murals Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 123, 127
carthaginians, in the aeneid Giusti, Disclosure and Discretion in Roman Astrology: Manilius and his Augustan Contemporaries (2018) 119
carthaginians, portrait of Giusti, Disclosure and Discretion in Roman Astrology: Manilius and his Augustan Contemporaries (2018) 119
catullus, poem Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
ceres Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 197
characterization de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555, 561
colchis Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89
correction Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 191, 193
danaans Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
diana Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
dido Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108; Graverini, Literature and Identity in The Golden Ass of Apuleius (2012) 179; Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 77, 89, 94; Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194; de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555, 561
dolus Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 127
domitian, as god Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194, 197
domitian, banquet of Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194, 197
domitian, palace of Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194, 197
ecphrasis, and thauma Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
ecphrasis, in epic Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
ecphrasis, length of Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
ecphrasis, prose Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
ecphrasis Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
egypt Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89
ekphrasis, in statius poetry Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
ekphrasis Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 123, 127; Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 74, 75, 76, 77, 89, 94; Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
elegy, erotic Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
emotion, description of de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555, 561
epic, ecphrasis in Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
epic Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
epic poetry Graverini, Literature and Identity in The Golden Ass of Apuleius (2012) 179
ethical qualities, disguise Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
etymology Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
fate (fata) Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 193
fear Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 123
flammeum (bridal scarf) Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
focalization Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
focalizer de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555, 561
furor Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
future Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 127
gaze, focused on work of art Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
gaze, in ekphrasis Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
gaze, in virgils aeneid Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
gods Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
hector Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295; Blum and Biggs, The Epic Journey in Greek and Roman Literature (2019) 135
hera (juno) Blum and Biggs, The Epic Journey in Greek and Roman Literature (2019) 135
hercules Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 75, 76; Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
hermaphroditus Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
hero Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
hunt(ing), erotic Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
hunt(ing) Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
hylas Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 76; Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
intertextuality de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555, 561
jason Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 76, 89
juno, temple of Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
juno Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
juno (see also hera) Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 74, 75, 76, 89, 94
jupiter Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108; Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194, 197
jupiter (see also zeus) Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 74
linear, linearity Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 127
liternum Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
matrimonium Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
matter Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 127
medea Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89; Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
mercurius de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555
mise en abyme' Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 94
mise en abyme Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89
name (onoma) Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 127
narcissus Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
narratee de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 561
narrative Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 123, 127
narrator-focalizer de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555
narrators, aeneid Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
narrators, odyssean Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
nausicaa Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108; Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
nestor Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
nymphs Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
odysseus Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295; Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
opening (clothing) Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
orange (colour) Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
orpheus Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 74; Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
ovid Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
palatine hill Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194, 197
palla Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
penthesilea Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 77, 89
philemon Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
philostratus and callistratus, in virgils aeneid Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
photis Graverini, Literature and Identity in The Golden Ass of Apuleius (2012) 179
pio, giovan battista (johannes baptista pius)\u2003 Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 76
pollius felix Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
pollius temple of Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
poseidon, enmity for odysseus Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 193
prologues, of aeneid and odyssey Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 191, 192, 193
propertius Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281; Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
punic wars, second Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
queen (regina, potnia) Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
rape Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
reader engagement, with epic ecphrasis Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
red ( Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
response, emotional, to work of art, in virgils aeneid Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
returns (noatoi) Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 192, 193
rome Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 94
romulus Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194
saffron Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
salmacis Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
scale, of ecphrasis Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
scipio africanus, and achilles Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
scipio africanus, imitatio of alexander the great by Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
scipio africanus, katabasis of Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
scipio africanus, meeting with homer Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
sesostris Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89
shawl Radicke, Roman Women’s Dress: Literary Sources, Terminology, and Historical Development (2022) 295
sibyl Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
silius italicus, and ennius Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
silius italicus, and homer Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
silius italicus, and lucretius Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
silius italicus, and virgil Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
silius italicus, nekyia in Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
silua Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
simile Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108; de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 561
slaves Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
sol Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 89, 94
space, as expression of emotion de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 561
statius, and domitian Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 194, 197
suffering king motif Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 192, 193
surrentum Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
temporality, in epic Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
temporality, of ecphrasis Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
thauma (wonder), ecphrasis and Goldhill, Preposterous Poetics: The Politics and Aesthetics of Form in Late Antiquity (2020) 21
thebes Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 99
triptolemus Putnam et al., The Poetic World of Statius' Silvae (2023) 197
trojan war, frescoes described in virgils aeneid Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
trojan war Faure, Conceptions of Time in Greek and Roman Antiquity (2022) 123
trojans Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
ulysses, in aeneid Cairns, Virgil's Augustan Epic (1989) 193
underworld Augoustakis, Flavian Poetry and its Greek Past (2014) 295
venus Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108; Keith and Myers, Vergil and Elegy (2023) 281
vergil, on junos temple at carthage Rutledge, Ancient Rome as a Museum: Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (2012) 112
viewing, in virgils aeneid Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
virgil, aeneid Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80
virgil Heerking and Manuwald, Brill’s Companion to Valerius Flaccus (2014) 74, 75, 76, 77, 89, 94; de Bakker, van den Berg, and Klooster, Emotions and Narrative in Ancient Literature and Beyond (2022) 555, 561
voice Farrell, Juno's Aeneid: A Battle for Heroic Identity (2021) 108
women, as travelers Blum and Biggs, The Epic Journey in Greek and Roman Literature (2019) 135
wonder, inspired by gazing at work of art Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text (2007) 80