by Virgil
And the proud Labicans, with painted shields,
And those who near Numician streams reside,
And those whom Tiber’s holy forests hide,
Or Circe’s hills from the main land divide;
Where Ufens glides along the lowly lands,
Or the black water of Pomptina stands.
Last, from the Volscians fair Camilla came,
And led her warlike troops, a warrior dame;
Unbred to spinning, in the loom unskill’d,
She chose the nobler Pallas of the field.
Mix’d with the first, the fierce virago fought,
Sustain’d the toils of arms, the danger sought,
Outstripp’d the winds in speed upon the plain,
Flew o’er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain:
She swept the seas, and, as she skimm’d along,
Her flying feet unbath’d on billows hung.
Men, boys, and women, stupid with surprise,
Where’er she passes, fix their wond’ring eyes:
Longing they look, and, gaping at the sight,
Devour her o’er and o’er with vast delight;
Her purple habit sits with such a grace
On her smooth shoulders, and so suits her face;
Her head with ringlets of her hair is crown’d,
And in a golden caul the curls are bound.
She shakes her myrtle jav’lin; and, behind,
Her Lycian quiver dances in the wind.
BOOK VIII
When Turnus had assembled all his pow’rs,
His standard planted on Laurentum’s tow’rs;
When now the sprightly trumpet, from afar,
Had giv’n the signal of approaching war,
Had rous’d the neighing steeds to scour the fields,
While the fierce riders clatter’d on their shields;
Trembling with rage, the Latian youth prepare
To join th’ allies, and headlong rush to war.
Fierce Ufens, and Messapus, led the crowd,
With bold Mezentius, who blasphem’d aloud.
These thro’ the country took their wasteful course,
The fields to forage, and to gather force.
Then Venulus to Diomede they send,
To beg his aid Ausonia to defend,
Declare the common danger, and inform
The Grecian leader of the growing storm:
Aeneas, landed on the Latian coast,
With banish’d gods, and with a baffled host,
Yet now aspir’d to conquest of the state,
And claim’d a title from the gods and fate;
What num’rous nations in his quarrel came,
And how they spread his formidable name.
What he design’d, what mischief might arise,
If fortune favor’d his first enterprise,
Was left for him to weigh, whose equal fears,
And common interest, was involv’d in theirs.
While Turnus and th’ allies thus urge the war,
The Trojan, floating in a flood of care,
Beholds the tempest which his foes prepare.
This way and that he turns his anxious mind;
Thinks, and rejects the counsels he design’d;
Explores himself in vain, in ev’ry part,
And gives no rest to his distracted heart.
So, when the sun by day, or moon by night,
Strike on the polish’d brass their trembling light,
The glitt’ring species here and there divide,
And cast their dubious beams from side to side;
Now on the walls, now on the pavement play,
And to the ceiling flash the glaring day.
‘T was night; and weary nature lull’d asleep
The birds of air, and fishes of the deep,
And beasts, and mortal men. The Trojan chief
Was laid on Tiber’s banks, oppress’d with grief,
And found in silent slumber late relief.
Then, thro’ the shadows of the poplar wood,
Arose the father of the Roman flood;
An azure robe was o’er his body spread,
A wreath of shady reeds adorn’d his head:
Thus, manifest to sight, the god appear’d,
And with these pleasing words his sorrow cheer’d:
“Undoubted offspring of ethereal race,
O long expected in this promis’d place!
Who thro’ the foes hast borne thy banish’d gods,
Restor’d them to their hearths, and old abodes;
This is thy happy home, the clime where fate
Ordains thee to restore the Trojan state.
Fear not! The war shall end in lasting peace,
And all the rage of haughty Juno cease.
And that this nightly vision may not seem
Th’ effect of fancy, or an idle dream,
A sow beneath an oak shall lie along,
All white herself, and white her thirty young.
When thirty rolling years have run their race,
Thy son Ascanius, on this empty space,
Shall build a royal town, of lasting fame,
Which from this omen shall receive the name.
Time shall approve the truth. For what remains,
And how with sure success to crown thy pains,
With patience next attend. A banish’d band,
Driv’n with Evander from th’ Arcadian land,
Have planted here, and plac’d on high their walls;
Their town the founder Pallanteum calls,
Deriv’d from Pallas, his great-grandsire’s name:
But the fierce Latians old possession claim,
With war infesting the new colony.
These make thy friends, and on their aid rely.
To thy free passage I submit my streams.
Wake, son of Venus, from thy pleasing dreams;
And, when the setting stars are lost in day,
To Juno’s pow’r thy just devotion pay;
With sacrifice the wrathful queen appease:
Her pride at length shall fall, her fury cease.
When thou return’st victorious from the war,
Perform thy vows to me with grateful care.
The god am I, whose yellow water flows
Around these fields, and fattens as it goes:
Tiber my name; among the rolling floods
Renown’d on earth, esteem’d among the gods.
This is my certain seat. In times to come,
My waves shall wash the walls of mighty Rome.”
He said, and plung’d below. While yet he spoke,
His dream Aeneas and his sleep forsook.
He rose, and looking up, beheld the skies
With purple blushing, and the day arise.
Then water in his hollow palm he took
From Tiber’s flood, and thus the pow’rs bespoke:
“Laurentian nymphs, by whom the streams are fed,
And Father Tiber, in thy sacred bed
Receive Aeneas, and from danger keep.
Whatever fount, whatever holy deep,
Conceals thy wat’ry stores; where’er they rise,
And, bubbling from below, salute the skies;
Thou, king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn
Suffices fatness to the fruitful corn,
For this thy kind compassion of our woes,
Shalt share my morning song and ev’ning vows.
But, O be present to thy people’s aid,
And firm the gracious promise thou hast made!”
Thus having said, two galleys from his stores,
With care he chooses, mans, and fits with oars.
Now on the shore the fatal swine is found.
Wondrous to tell!- She lay along the ground:
Her well-fed offspring at her udders hung;
She white herself, and white her thirty young.
Aeneas takes the mothe
r and her brood,
And all on Juno’s altar are bestow’d.
The foll’wing night, and the succeeding day,
Propitious Tiber smooth’d his wat’ry way:
He roll’d his river back, and pois’d he stood,
A gentle swelling, and a peaceful flood.
The Trojans mount their ships; they put from shore,
Borne on the waves, and scarcely dip an oar.
Shouts from the land give omen to their course,
And the pitch’d vessels glide with easy force.
The woods and waters wonder at the gleam
Of shields, and painted ships that stem the stream.
One summer’s night and one whole day they pass
Betwixt the greenwood shades, and cut the liquid glass.
The fiery sun had finish’d half his race,
Look’d back, and doubted in the middle space,
When they from far beheld the rising tow’rs,
The tops of sheds, and shepherds’ lowly bow’rs,
Thin as they stood, which, then of homely clay,
Now rise in marble, from the Roman sway.
These cots (Evander’s kingdom, mean and poor)
The Trojan saw, and turn’d his ships to shore.
‘T was on a solemn day: th’ Arcadian states,
The king and prince, without the city gates,
Then paid their off’rings in a sacred grove
To Hercules, the warrior son of Jove.
Thick clouds of rolling smoke involve the skies,
And fat of entrails on his altar fries.
But, when they saw the ships that stemm’d the flood,
And glitter’d thro’ the covert of the wood,
They rose with fear, and left th’ unfinish’d feast,
Till dauntless Pallas reassur’d the rest
To pay the rites. Himself without delay
A jav’lin seiz’d, and singly took his way;
Then gain’d a rising ground, and call’d from far:
“Resolve me, strangers, whence, and what you are;
Your bus’ness here; and bring you peace or war?”
High on the stern Aeneas his stand,
And held a branch of olive in his hand,
While thus he spoke: “The Phrygians’ arms you see,
Expell’d from Troy, provok’d in Italy
By Latian foes, with war unjustly made;
At first affianc’d, and at last betray’d.
This message bear: ‘The Trojans and their chief
Bring holy peace, and beg the king’s relief.’
Struck with so great a name, and all on fire,
The youth replies: “Whatever you require,
Your fame exacts. Upon our shores descend.
A welcome guest, and, what you wish, a friend.”
He said, and, downward hasting to the strand,
Embrac’d the stranger prince, and join’d his hand.
Conducted to the grove, Aeneas broke
The silence first, and thus the king bespoke:
“Best of the Greeks, to whom, by fate’s command,
I bear these peaceful branches in my hand,
Undaunted I approach you, tho’ I know
Your birth is Grecian, and your land my foe;
From Atreus tho’ your ancient lineage came,
And both the brother kings your kindred claim;
Yet, my self-conscious worth, your high renown,
Your virtue, thro’ the neighb’ring nations blown,
Our fathers’ mingled blood, Apollo’s voice,
Have led me hither, less by need than choice.
Our founder Dardanus, as fame has sung,
And Greeks acknowledge, from Electra sprung:
Electra from the loins of Atlas came;
Atlas, whose head sustains the starry frame.
Your sire is Mercury, whom long before
On cold Cyllene’s top fair Maia bore.
Maia the fair, on fame if we rely,
Was Atlas’ daughter, who sustains the sky.
Thus from one common source our streams divide;
Ours is the Trojan, yours th’ Areadian side.
Rais’d by these hopes, I sent no news before,
Nor ask’d your leave, nor did your faith implore;
But come, without a pledge, my own ambassador.
The same Rutulians, who with arms pursue
The Trojan race, are equal foes to you.
Our host expell’d, what farther force can stay
The victor troops from universal sway?
Then will they stretch their pow’r athwart the land,
And either sea from side to side command.
Receive our offer’d faith, and give us thine;
Ours is a gen’rous and experienc’d line:
We want not hearts nor bodies for the war;
In council cautious, and in fields we dare.”
He said; and while spoke, with piercing eyes
Evander view’d the man with vast surprise,
Pleas’d with his action, ravish’d with his face:
Then answer’d briefly, with a royal grace:
“O valiant leader of the Trojan line,
In whom the features of thy father shine,
How I recall Anchises! how I see
His motions, mien, and all my friend, in thee!
Long tho’ it be, ‘t is fresh within my mind,
When Priam to his sister’s court design’d
A welcome visit, with a friendly stay,
And thro’ th’ Arcadian kingdom took his way.
Then, past a boy, the callow down began
To shade my chin, and call me first a man.
I saw the shining train with vast delight,
And Priam’s goodly person pleas’d my sight:
But great Anchises, far above the rest,
With awful wonder fir’d my youthful breast.
I long’d to join in friendship’s holy bands
Our mutual hearts, and plight our mutual hands.
I first accosted him: I sued, I sought,
And, with a loving force, to Pheneus brought.
He gave me, when at length constrain’d to go,
A Lycian quiver and a Gnossian bow,
A vest embroider’d, glorious to behold,
And two rich bridles, with their bits of gold,
Which my son’s coursers in obedience hold.
The league you ask, I offer, as your right;
And, when to-morrow’s sun reveals the light,
With swift supplies you shall be sent away.
Now celebrate with us this solemn day,
Whose holy rites admit no long delay.
Honor our annual feast; and take your seat,
With friendly welcome, at a homely treat.”
Thus having said, the bowls (remov’d for fear)
The youths replac’d, and soon restor’d the cheer.
On sods of turf he set the soldiers round:
A maple throne, rais’d higher from the ground,
Receiv’d the Trojan chief; and, o’er the bed,
A lion’s shaggy hide for ornament they spread.
The loaves were serv’d in canisters; the wine
In bowls; the priest renew’d the rites divine:
Broil’d entrails are their food, and beef’s continued chine.
But when the rage of hunger was repress’d,
Thus spoke Evander to his royal guest:
“These rites, these altars, and this feast, O king,
From no vain fears or superstition spring,
Or blind devotion, or from blinder chance,
Or heady zeal, or brutal ignorance;
But, sav’d from danger, with a grateful sense,
The labors of a god we recompense.
See, from afar, yon rock that mates the sky,
About whose feet such heaps of rubbish lie;
Such indigested ruin; bleak and ba
re,
How desart now it stands, expos’d in air!
‘T was once a robber’s den, inclos’d around
With living stone, and deep beneath the ground.
The monster Cacus, more than half a beast,
This hold, impervious to the sun, possess’d.
The pavement ever foul with human gore;
Heads, and their mangled members, hung the door.
Vulcan this plague begot; and, like his sire,
Black clouds he belch’d, and flakes of livid fire.
Time, long expected, eas’d us of our load,
And brought the needful presence of a god.
Th’ avenging force of Hercules, from Spain,
Arriv’d in triumph, from Geryon slain:
Thrice liv’d the giant, and thrice liv’d in vain.
His prize, the lowing herds, Alcides drove
Near Tiber’s bank, to graze the shady grove.
Allur’d with hope of plunder, and intent
By force to rob, by fraud to circumvent,
The brutal Cacus, as by chance they stray’d,
Four oxen thence, and four fair kine convey’d;
And, lest the printed footsteps might be seen,
He dragg’d ’em backwards to his rocky den.
The tracks averse a lying notice gave,
And led the searcher backward from the cave.
“Meantime the herdsman hero shifts his place,
To find fresh pasture and untrodden grass.
The beasts, who miss’d their mates, fill’d all around
With bellowings, and the rocks restor’d the sound.
One heifer, who had heard her love complain,
Roar’d from the cave, and made the project vain.
Alcides found the fraud; with rage he shook,
And toss’d about his head his knotted oak.
Swift as the winds, or Scythian arrows’ flight,
He clomb, with eager haste, th’ aerial height.
Then first we saw the monster mend his pace;
Fear his eyes, and paleness in his face,
Confess’d the god’s approach. Trembling he springs,
As terror had increas’d his feet with wings;
Nor stay’d for stairs; but down the depth he threw
His body, on his back the door he drew
(The door, a rib of living rock; with pains
His father hew’d it out, and bound with iron chains):
He broke the heavy links, the mountain clos’d,
And bars and levers to his foe oppos’d.
The wretch had hardly made his dungeon fast;
The fierce avenger came with bounding haste;
Survey’d the mouth of the forbidden hold,
And here and there his raging eyes he roll’d.
