5. Vergil, Aeneis, 1.297-1.305, 1.335-1.371, 1.494-1.756, 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, 4.402-4.444, 4.446-4.705, 5.412, 6.264, 6.268-6.269, 6.273-6.281, 6.285-6.289, 6.292-6.296, 6.302-6.304, 6.309-6.310, 6.321, 6.333-6.552, 6.554-6.556, 6.585-6.600, 6.608-6.625, 6.628, 6.637-6.683, 6.687-6.689, 6.692-6.693, 6.695-6.901, 8.10-8.17, 9.680, 9.710-9.716, 10.707-10.713, 12.701-12.703, 12.749-12.755 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 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 1.335. 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 1.494. to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land 1.495. and for her journey's aid, he whispered where 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 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 4.446. 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 5.412. victorious, yon rich-bridled steed away; 6.264. The lightly-feeding doves flit on and on 6.268. In silent flight, and find a wished-for rest 6.269. On a twy-natured tree, where through green boughs 6.273. Whose seed is never from the parent tree 6.274. O'er whose round limbs its tawny tendrils twine,— 6.275. So shone th' out-leafing gold within the shade 6.276. of dark holm-oak, and so its tinsel-bract 6.277. Rustled in each light breeze. Aeneas grasped 6.278. The lingering bough, broke it in eager haste 6.280. Meanwhile the Trojans on the doleful shore 6.281. Bewailed Misenus, and brought tribute there 6.285. Around it wreathe, and in fair order range 6.286. Funereal cypress; glittering arms are piled 6.287. High over all; on blazing coals they lift 6.288. Cauldrons of brass brimmed o'er with waters pure; 6.289. And that cold, lifeless clay lave and anoint 6.292. With purple vesture and familiar pall. 6.293. Then in sad ministry the chosen few 6.294. With eyes averted, as our sires did use 6.295. Hold the enkindling torch beneath the pyre : 6.296. They gather up and burn the gifts of myrrh 6.302. With blessed olive branch and sprinkling dew 6.303. Purges the people with ablution cold 6.304. In lustral rite; oft chanting, “Hail! Farewell!” 6.310. After these toils, they hasten to fulfil 6.321. The priestess sprinkled wine; 'twixt the two horns 6.333. An altar dark, and piled upon the flames 6.334. The ponderous entrails of the bulls, and poured 6.335. Free o'er the burning flesh the goodly oil. 6.336. Then lo! at dawn's dim, earliest beam began 6.337. Beneath their feet a groaning of the ground : 6.338. The wooded hill-tops shook, and, as it seemed 6.339. She-hounds of hell howled viewless through the shade 6.340. To hail their Queen. “Away, 0 souls profane! 6.341. Stand far away!” the priestess shrieked, “nor dare 6.342. Unto this grove come near! Aeneas, on! 6.343. Begin thy journey! Draw thy sheathed blade! 6.344. Now, all thy courage! now, th' unshaken soul!” 6.345. She spoke, and burst into the yawning cave 6.346. With frenzied step; he follows where she leads 6.348. Ye gods! who rule the spirits of the dead! 6.349. Ye voiceless shades and silent lands of night! 6.350. 0 Phlegethon! 0 Chaos! let my song 6.351. If it be lawful, in fit words declare 6.352. What I have heard; and by your help divine 6.353. Unfold what hidden things enshrouded lie 6.355. They walked exploring the unpeopled night 6.356. Through Pluto's vacuous realms, and regions void 6.357. As when one's path in dreary woodlands winds 6.358. Beneath a misty moon's deceiving ray 6.359. When Jove has mantled all his heaven in shade 6.360. And night seals up the beauty of the world. 6.361. In the first courts and entrances of Hell 6.362. Sorrows and vengeful Cares on couches lie : 6.363. There sad Old Age abides, Diseases pale 6.364. And Fear, and Hunger, temptress to all crime; 6.365. Want, base and vile, and, two dread shapes to see 6.366. Bondage and Death : then Sleep, Death's next of kin; 6.367. And dreams of guilty joy. Death-dealing War 6.368. Is ever at the doors, and hard thereby 6.369. The Furies' beds of steel, where wild-eyed Strife 6.371. There in the middle court a shadowy elm 6.372. Its ancient branches spreads, and in its leaves 6.373. Deluding visions ever haunt and cling. 6.374. Then come strange prodigies of bestial kind : 6.375. Centaurs are stabled there, and double shapes 6.376. Like Scylla, or the dragon Lerna bred 6.377. With hideous scream; Briareus clutching far 6.378. His hundred hands, Chimaera girt with flame 6.379. A crowd of Gorgons, Harpies of foul wing 6.380. And giant Geryon's triple-monstered shade. 6.381. Aeneas, shuddering with sudden fear 6.382. Drew sword and fronted them with naked steel; 6.383. And, save his sage conductress bade him know 6.384. These were but shapes and shadows sweeping by 6.386. Hence the way leads to that Tartarean stream 6.387. of Acheron, whose torrent fierce and foul 6.388. Disgorges in Cocytus all its sands. 6.389. A ferryman of gruesome guise keeps ward 6.390. Upon these waters,—Charon, foully garbed 6.391. With unkempt, thick gray beard upon his chin 6.392. And staring eyes of flame; a mantle coarse 6.393. All stained and knotted, from his shoulder falls 6.394. As with a pole he guides his craft, tends sail 6.395. And in the black boat ferries o'er his dead;— 6.396. Old, but a god's old age looks fresh and strong. 6.397. To those dim shores the multitude streams on— 6.398. Husbands and wives, and pale, unbreathing forms 6.399. of high-souled heroes, boys and virgins fair 6.400. And strong youth at whose graves fond parents mourned. 6.401. As numberless the throng as leaves that fall 6.402. When autumn's early frost is on the grove; 6.403. Or like vast flocks of birds by winter's chill 6.404. Sent flying o'er wide seas to lands of flowers. 6.405. All stood beseeching to begin their voyage 6.406. Across that river, and reached out pale hands 6.407. In passionate yearning for its distant shore. 6.408. But the grim boatman takes now these, now those 6.409. Or thrusts unpitying from the stream away. 6.410. Aeneas, moved to wonder and deep awe 6.411. Beheld the tumult; “Virgin seer!” he cried, . 6.412. “Why move the thronging ghosts toward yonder stream? 6.413. What seek they there? Or what election holds 6.414. That these unwilling linger, while their peers 6.415. Sweep forward yonder o'er the leaden waves?” 6.416. To him, in few, the aged Sibyl spoke : 6.417. “Son of Anchises, offspring of the gods 6.418. Yon are Cocytus and the Stygian stream 6.419. By whose dread power the gods themselves do fear 6.420. To take an oath in vain. Here far and wide 6.421. Thou seest the hapless throng that hath no grave. 6.422. That boatman Charon bears across the deep 6.423. Such as be sepulchred with holy care. 6.424. But over that loud flood and dreadful shore 6.425. No trav'ler may be borne, until in peace 6.426. His gathered ashes rest. A hundred years 6.427. Round this dark borderland some haunt and roam 6.428. Then win late passage o'er the longed-for wave.” 6.429. Aeneas lingered for a little space 6.430. Revolving in his soul with pitying prayer 6.431. Fate's partial way. But presently he sees 6.432. Leucaspis and the Lycian navy's lord 6.433. Orontes; both of melancholy brow 6.434. Both hapless and unhonored after death 6.435. Whom, while from Troy they crossed the wind-swept seas 6.437. There, too, the helmsman Palinurus strayed : 6.438. Who, as he whilom watched the Libyan stars 6.439. Had fallen, plunging from his lofty seat 6.440. Into the billowy deep. Aeneas now 6.441. Discerned his sad face through the blinding gloom 6.442. And hailed him thus : “0 Palinurus, tell 6.443. What god was he who ravished thee away 6.444. From me and mine, beneath the o'crwhelming wave? 6.445. Speak on! for he who ne'er had spoke untrue 6.446. Apollo's self, did mock my listening mind 6.447. And chanted me a faithful oracle 6.448. That thou shouldst ride the seas unharmed, and touch 6.449. Ausonian shores. Is this the pledge divine?” 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 6.475. Unconquered chieftain, thou wilt set me free! 6.476. Give me a grave where Velia 's haven lies 6.477. For thou hast power! Or if some path there be 6.478. If thy celestial mother guide thee here 6.479. (For not, I ween, without the grace of gods 6.480. Wilt cross yon rivers vast, you Stygian pool) 6.481. Reach me a hand! and bear with thee along! 6.482. Until (least gift!) death bring me peace and calm.” 6.483. Such words he spoke: the priestess thus replied: 6.484. “Why, Palinurus, these unblest desires? 6.485. Wouldst thou, unsepulchred, behold the wave 6.486. of Styx, stern river of th' Eumenides? 6.487. Wouldst thou, unbidden, tread its fearful strand? 6.488. Hope not by prayer to change the laws of Heaven! 6.489. But heed my words, and in thy memory 6.490. Cherish and keep, to cheer this evil time. 6.491. Lo, far and wide, led on by signs from Heaven 6.492. Thy countrymen from many a templed town 6.493. Shall consecrate thy dust, and build thy tomb 6.494. A tomb with annual feasts and votive flowers 6.495. To Palinurus a perpetual fame!” 6.496. Thus was his anguish stayed, from his sad heart 6.497. Grief ebbed awhile, and even to this day 6.499. The twain continue now their destined way 6.500. Unto the river's edge. The Ferryman 6.501. Who watched them through still groves approach his shore 6.502. Hailed them, at distance, from the Stygian wave 6.503. And with reproachful summons thus began: 6.504. “Whoe'er thou art that in this warrior guise 6.505. Unto my river comest,—quickly tell 6.506. Thine errand! Stay thee where thou standest now! 6.507. This is ghosts' land, for sleep and slumbrous dark. 6.508. That flesh and blood my Stygian ship should bear 6.509. Were lawless wrong. Unwillingly I took 6.510. Alcides, Theseus, and Pirithous 6.511. Though sons of gods, too mighty to be quelled. 6.512. One bound in chains yon warder of Hell's door 6.513. And dragged him trembling from our monarch's throne: 6.514. The others, impious, would steal away 6.515. Out of her bride-bed Pluto's ravished Queen.” 6.516. Briefly th' Amphrysian priestess made reply: 6.517. “Not ours, such guile: Fear not! This warrior's arms 6.518. Are innocent. Let Cerberus from his cave 6.519. Bay ceaselessly, the bloodless shades to scare; 6.520. Let Proserpine immaculately keep 6.521. The house and honor of her kinsman King. 6.522. Trojan Aeneas, famed for faithful prayer 6.523. And victory in arms, descends to seek 6.524. His father in this gloomy deep of death. 6.525. If loyal goodness move not such as thee 6.526. This branch at least” (she drew it from her breast) 6.527. “Thou knowest well.” 6.528. Then cooled his wrathful heart; 6.529. With silent lips he looked and wondering eyes 6.530. Upon that fateful, venerable wand 6.531. Seen only once an age. Shoreward he turned 6.532. And pushed their way his boat of leaden hue. 6.533. The rows of crouching ghosts along the thwarts 6.534. He scattered, cleared a passage, and gave room 6.535. To great Aeneas. The light shallop groaned 6.536. Beneath his weight, and, straining at each seam 6.537. Took in the foul flood with unstinted flow. 6.538. At last the hero and his priestess-guide 6.539. Came safe across the river, and were moored 6.541. Here Cerberus, with triple-throated roar 6.542. Made all the region ring, as there he lay 6.543. At vast length in his cave. The Sibyl then 6.544. Seeing the serpents writhe around his neck 6.545. Threw down a loaf with honeyed herbs imbued 6.546. And drowsy essences: he, ravenous 6.547. Gaped wide his three fierce mouths and snatched the bait 6.548. Crouched with his large backs loose upon the ground 6.549. And filled his cavern floor from end to end. 6.550. Aeneas through hell's portal moved, while sleep 6.551. Its warder buried; then he fled that shore 6.554. of souls of babes upon the threshold plaining; 6.555. Whom, ere they took their portion of sweet life 6.556. Dark Fate from nursing bosoms tore, and plunged 6.585. Roamed through a mighty wood. The Trojan's eyes 6.586. Beheld her near him through the murky gloom 6.587. As when, in her young month and crescent pale 6.588. One sees th' o'er-clouded moon, or thinks he sees. 6.589. Down dropped his tears, and thus he fondly spoke: 6.590. “0 suffering Dido! Were those tidings true 6.591. That thou didst fling thee on the fatal steel? 6.592. Thy death, ah me! I dealt it. But I swear 6.593. By stars above us, by the powers in Heaven 6.594. Or whatsoever oath ye dead believe 6.595. That not by choice I fled thy shores, 0 Queen! 6.596. Divine decrees compelled me, even as now 6.597. Among these ghosts I pass, and thread my way 6.598. Along this gulf of night and loathsome land. 6.599. How could I deem my cruel taking leave 6.600. Would bring thee at the last to all this woe? 6.608. Were changeless flint or carved in Parian stone. 6.609. Then, after pause, away in wrath she fled 6.610. And refuge took within the cool, dark grove 6.611. Where her first spouse, Sichaeus, with her tears 6.612. Mingled his own in mutual love and true. 6.613. Aeneas, none the less, her guiltless woe 6.614. With anguish knew, watched with dimmed eyes her way 6.616. But now his destined way he must be gone; 6.617. Now the last regions round the travellers lie 6.618. Where famous warriors in the darkness dwell: 6.619. Here Tydeus comes in view, with far-renowned 6.620. Parthenopaeus and Adrastus pale; 6.621. Here mourned in upper air with many a moan 6.622. In battle fallen, the Dardanidae 6.623. Whose long defile Aeneas groans to see: 6.624. Glaucus and Medon and Thersilochus 6.625. Antenor's children three, and Ceres' priest 6.628. Around him left and right the crowding shades 6.637. A feeble shout, or vainly opened wide 6.639. Here Priam's son, with body rent and torn 6.640. Deiphobus Deïphobus is seen,—his mangled face 6.641. His face and bloody hands, his wounded head 6.642. of ears and nostrils infamously shorn. 6.643. Scarce could Aeneas know the shuddering shade 6.644. That strove to hide its face and shameful scar; 6.645. But, speaking first, he said, in their own tongue: 6.646. “Deiphobus, strong warrior, nobly born 6.647. of Teucer's royal stem, what ruthless foe 6.648. Could wish to wreak on thee this dire revenge? 6.649. Who ventured, unopposed, so vast a wrong? 6.650. The rumor reached me how, that deadly night 6.651. Wearied with slaying Greeks, thyself didst fall 6.652. Prone on a mingled heap of friends and foes. 6.653. Then my own hands did for thy honor build 6.654. An empty tomb upon the Trojan shore 6.655. And thrice with echoing voice I called thy shade. 6.656. Thy name and arms are there. But, 0 my friend 6.657. Thee could I nowhere find, but launched away 6.658. Nor o'er thy bones their native earth could fling.” 6.659. To him the son of Priam thus replied: 6.660. “Nay, friend, no hallowed rite was left undone 6.661. But every debt to death and pity due 6.662. The shades of thy Deiphobus received. 6.663. My fate it was, and Helen's murderous wrong 6.664. Wrought me this woe; of her these tokens tell. 6.665. For how that last night in false hope we passed 6.666. Thou knowest,—ah, too well we both recall! 6.667. When up the steep of Troy the fateful horse 6.668. Came climbing, pregt with fierce men-at-arms 6.669. 't was she, accurst, who led the Phrygian dames 6.670. In choric dance and false bacchantic song 6.671. And, waving from the midst a lofty brand 6.672. Signalled the Greeks from Ilium 's central tower 6.673. In that same hour on my sad couch I lay 6.674. Exhausted by long care and sunk in sleep 6.675. That sweet, deep sleep, so close to tranquil death. 6.676. But my illustrious bride from all the house 6.677. Had stolen all arms; from 'neath my pillowed head 6.678. She stealthily bore off my trusty sword; 6.679. Then loud on Menelaus did she call 6.680. And with her own false hand unbarred the door; 6.681. Such gift to her fond lord she fain would send 6.682. To blot the memory of his ancient wrong! 6.683. Why tell the tale, how on my couch they broke 6.687. If with clean lips upon your wrath I call! 6.688. But, friend, what fortunes have thy life befallen? 6.689. Tell point by point. Did waves of wandering seas 6.693. While thus they talked, the crimsoned car of Morn 6.695. On her ethereal road. The princely pair 6.696. Had wasted thus the whole brief gift of hours; 6.697. But Sibyl spoke the warning: “Night speeds by 6.698. And we, Aeneas, lose it in lamenting. 6.699. Here comes the place where cleaves our way in twain. 6.700. Thy road, the right, toward Pluto's dwelling goes 6.701. And leads us to Elysium. But the left 6.702. Speeds sinful souls to doom, and is their path 6.703. To Tartarus th' accurst.” Deiphobus Deïphobus 6.704. Cried out: “0 priestess, be not wroth with us! 6.705. Back to the ranks with yonder ghosts I go. 6.706. 0 glory of my race, pass on! Thy lot 6.708. Aeneas straightway by the leftward cliff 6.709. Beheld a spreading rampart, high begirt 6.710. With triple wall, and circling round it ran 6.711. A raging river of swift floods of flame 6.712. Infernal Phlegethon, which whirls along 6.713. Loud-thundering rocks. A mighty gate is there 6.714. Columned in adamant; no human power 6.715. Nor even the gods, against this gate prevail. 6.716. Tall tower of steel it has; and seated there 6.717. Tisiphone, in blood-flecked pall arrayed 6.718. Sleepless forever, guards the entering way. 6.719. Hence groans are heard, fierce cracks of lash and scourge 6.720. Loud-clanking iron links and trailing chains. 6.721. Aeneas motionless with horror stood 6.722. o'erwhelmed at such uproar. “0 virgin, say 6.723. What shapes of guilt are these? What penal woe 6.724. Harries them thus? What wailing smites the air?” 6.725. To whom the Sibyl, “Far-famed prince of Troy 6.726. The feet of innocence may never pass 6.727. Into this house of sin. But Hecate 6.728. When o'er th' Avernian groves she gave me power 6.729. Taught me what penalties the gods decree 6.730. And showed me all. There Cretan Rhadamanth 6.731. His kingdom keeps, and from unpitying throne 6.732. Chastises and lays bare the secret sins 6.733. of mortals who, exulting in vain guile 6.734. Elude till death, their expiation due. 6.735. There, armed forever with her vengeful scourge 6.736. Tisiphone, with menace and affront 6.737. The guilty swarm pursues; in her left hand 6.738. She lifts her angered serpents, while she calls 6.739. A troop of sister-furies fierce as she. 6.740. Then, grating loud on hinge of sickening sound 6.741. Hell's portals open wide. 0, dost thou see 6.742. What sentinel upon that threshold sits 6.744. Far, far within the dragon Hydra broods 6.745. With half a hundred mouths, gaping and black; 6.746. And Tartarus slopes downward to the dark 6.747. Twice the whole space that in the realms of light 6.748. Th' Olympian heaven above our earth aspires. — 6.749. Here Earth's first offspring, the Titanic brood 6.750. Roll lightning-blasted in the gulf profound; 6.751. The twin Aloidae Aloïdae , colossal shades 6.752. Came on my view; their hands made stroke at Heaven 6.753. And strove to thrust Jove from his seat on high. 6.754. I saw Salmoneus his dread stripes endure 6.755. Who dared to counterfeit Olympian thunder 6.756. And Jove's own fire. In chariot of four steeds 6.757. Brandishing torches, he triumphant rode 6.758. Through throngs of Greeks, o'er Elis ' sacred way 6.759. Demanding worship as a god. 0 fool! 6.760. To mock the storm's inimitable flash— 6.761. With crash of hoofs and roll of brazen wheel! 6.762. But mightiest Jove from rampart of thick cloud 6.763. Hurled his own shaft, no flickering, mortal flame 6.764. And in vast whirl of tempest laid him low. 6.765. Next unto these, on Tityos I looked 6.766. Child of old Earth, whose womb all creatures bears: 6.767. Stretched o'er nine roods he lies; a vulture huge 6.768. Tears with hooked beak at his immortal side 6.769. Or deep in entrails ever rife with pain 6.770. Gropes for a feast, making his haunt and home 6.771. In the great Titan bosom; nor will give 6.772. To ever new-born flesh surcease of woe. 6.773. Why name Ixion and Pirithous 6.774. The Lapithae, above whose impious brows 6.775. A crag of flint hangs quaking to its fall 6.776. As if just toppling down, while couches proud 6.777. Propped upon golden pillars, bid them feast 6.778. In royal glory: but beside them lies 6.779. The eldest of the Furies, whose dread hands 6.780. Thrust from the feast away, and wave aloft 6.781. A flashing firebrand, with shrieks of woe. 6.782. Here in a prison-house awaiting doom 6.783. Are men who hated, long as life endured 6.784. Their brothers, or maltreated their gray sires 6.785. Or tricked a humble friend; the men who grasped 6.786. At hoarded riches, with their kith and kin 6.787. Not sharing ever—an unnumbered throng; 6.788. Here slain adulterers be; and men who dared 6.789. To fight in unjust cause, and break all faith 6.790. With their own lawful lords. Seek not to know 6.791. What forms of woe they feel, what fateful shape 6.792. of retribution hath o'erwhelmed them there. 6.793. Some roll huge boulders up; some hang on wheels 6.794. Lashed to the whirling spokes; in his sad seat 6.795. Theseus is sitting, nevermore to rise; 6.796. Unhappy Phlegyas uplifts his voice 6.797. In warning through the darkness, calling loud 6.798. ‘0, ere too late, learn justice and fear God!’ 6.799. Yon traitor sold his country, and for gold 6.800. Enchained her to a tyrant, trafficking 6.801. In laws, for bribes enacted or made void; 6.802. Another did incestuously take 6.803. His daughter for a wife in lawless bonds. 6.804. All ventured some unclean, prodigious crime; 6.805. And what they dared, achieved. I could not tell 6.806. Not with a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues 6.807. Or iron voice, their divers shapes of sin 6.809. So spake Apollo's aged prophetess. 6.810. “Now up and on!” she cried. “Thy task fulfil! 6.811. We must make speed. Behold yon arching doors 6.812. Yon walls in furnace of the Cyclops forged! 6.813. 'T is there we are commanded to lay down 6.814. Th' appointed offering.” So, side by side 6.815. Swift through the intervening dark they strode 6.816. And, drawing near the portal-arch, made pause. 6.817. Aeneas, taking station at the door 6.818. Pure, lustral waters o'er his body threw 6.820. Now, every rite fulfilled, and tribute due 6.821. Paid to the sovereign power of Proserpine 6.822. At last within a land delectable 6.823. Their journey lay, through pleasurable bowers 6.824. of groves where all is joy,—a blest abode! 6.825. An ampler sky its roseate light bestows 6.826. On that bright land, which sees the cloudless beam 6.827. of suns and planets to our earth unknown. 6.828. On smooth green lawns, contending limb with limb 6.829. Immortal athletes play, and wrestle long 6.830. 'gainst mate or rival on the tawny sand; 6.831. With sounding footsteps and ecstatic song 6.832. Some thread the dance divine: among them moves 6.833. The bard of Thrace, in flowing vesture clad 6.834. Discoursing seven-noted melody 6.835. Who sweeps the numbered strings with changeful hand 6.836. Or smites with ivory point his golden lyre. 6.837. Here Trojans be of eldest, noblest race 6.838. Great-hearted heroes, born in happier times 6.839. Ilus, Assaracus, and Dardanus 6.840. Illustrious builders of the Trojan town. 6.841. Their arms and shadowy chariots he views 6.842. And lances fixed in earth, while through the fields 6.843. Their steeds without a bridle graze at will. 6.844. For if in life their darling passion ran 6.845. To chariots, arms, or glossy-coated steeds 6.846. The self-same joy, though in their graves, they feel. 6.847. Lo! on the left and right at feast reclined 6.848. Are other blessed souls, whose chorus sings 6.849. Victorious paeans on the fragrant air 6.850. of laurel groves; and hence to earth outpours 6.851. Eridanus, through forests rolling free. 6.852. Here dwell the brave who for their native land 6.853. Fell wounded on the field; here holy priests 6.854. Who kept them undefiled their mortal day; 6.855. And poets, of whom the true-inspired song 6.856. Deserved Apollo's name; and all who found 6.857. New arts, to make man's life more blest or fair; 6.858. Yea! here dwell all those dead whose deeds bequeath 6.859. Deserved and grateful memory to their kind. 6.860. And each bright brow a snow-white fillet wears. 6.861. Unto this host the Sibyl turned, and hailed 6.862. Musaeus, midmost of a numerous throng 6.863. Who towered o'er his peers a shoulder higher: 6.864. “0 spirits blest! 0 venerable bard! 6.865. Declare what dwelling or what region holds 6.866. Anchises, for whose sake we twain essayed 6.867. Yon passage over the wide streams of hell.” 6.868. And briefly thus the hero made reply: 6.869. “No fixed abode is ours. In shadowy groves 6.870. We make our home, or meadows fresh and fair 6.871. With streams whose flowery banks our couches be. 6.872. But you, if thitherward your wishes turn 6.873. Climb yonder hill, where I your path may show.” 6.874. So saying, he strode forth and led them on 6.875. Till from that vantage they had prospect fair 6.876. of a wide, shining land; thence wending down 6.877. They left the height they trod; for far below 6.878. Father Anchises in a pleasant vale 6.879. Stood pondering, while his eyes and thought surveyed 6.880. A host of prisoned spirits, who there abode 6.881. Awaiting entrance to terrestrial air. 6.882. And musing he reviewed the legions bright 6.883. of his own progeny and offspring proud— 6.884. Their fates and fortunes, virtues and great deeds. 6.885. Soon he discerned Aeneas drawing nigh 6.886. o'er the green slope, and, lifting both his hands 6.887. In eager welcome, spread them swiftly forth. 6.888. Tears from his eyelids rained, and thus he spoke: 6.889. “Art here at last? Hath thy well-proven love 6.890. of me thy sire achieved yon arduous way? 6.891. Will Heaven, beloved son, once more allow 6.892. That eye to eye we look? and shall I hear 6.893. Thy kindred accent mingling with my own? 6.894. I cherished long this hope. My prophet-soul 6.895. Numbered the lapse of days, nor did my thought 6.896. Deceive. 0, o'er what lands and seas wast driven 6.897. To this embrace! What perils manifold 6.898. Assailed thee, 0 my son, on every side! 6.899. How long I trembled, lest that Libyan throne 6.900. Should work thee woe!” 6.901. Aeneas thus replied: 8.10. their loyal hosts, and strip the field and farm 8.11. of husbandmen. To seek auxiliar arms 8.12. they send to glorious Diomed's domain 8.13. the herald Venulus, and bid him cry: 8.14. “ Troy is to Latium come; Aeneas' fleet 8.15. has come to land. He brings his vanquished gods 8.16. and gives himself to be our destined King. 8.17. Cities not few accept him, and his name 9.680. o'er land and sea? O, stab me very deep 9.710. the siegers stand; along their dense array 9.711. the crafty Teucrians down the rampart roll 9.712. a boulder like a hill-top, laying low 9.713. the Rutule troop and crashing through their shields. 9.714. Nor may the bold Rutulian longer hope 9.715. to keep in cover, but essays to storm 9.716. only with far-flung shafts the bastion strong. 10.707. clean over him; then at Aeneas' knees 10.708. he crouched and clung with supplicating cry: 10.709. “O, by thy father's spirit, by thy hope 10.710. in young Iulus, I implore thee, spare 10.711. for son and father's sake this life of mine. 10.712. A lofty house have I, where safely hid 10.713. are stores of graven silver and good weight |
|
