by Virgil
Unto the fatherland of storm, full fruitful of the gale,
Æolia hight, where Æolus is king of all avail,
And far adown a cavern vast the bickering of the winds
And roaring tempests of the world with bolt and fetter binds:
They set the mountains murmuring much, a-growling angrily
About their bars, while Æolus sits in his burg on high,
And, sceptre-holding, softeneth them, and strait their wrath doth keep:
Yea but for that the earth and sea, and vault of heaven the deep,
They eager-swift would roll away and sweep adown of space:
For fear whereof the Father high in dark and hollow place
Hath hidden them, and high above a world of mountains thrown
And given them therewithal a king, who, taught by law well known,
Now draweth, and now casteth loose the reins that hold them in:
To whom did suppliant Juno now in e’en such words begin:
“The Father of the Gods and men hath given thee might enow,
O Æolus, to smooth the sea, and make the storm-wind blow.
Hearken! a folk, my very foes, saileth the Tyrrhene main
Bearing their Troy to Italy, and Gods that were but vain:
Set on thy winds, and overwhelm their sunken ships at sea,
Or prithee scattered cast them forth, things drowned diversedly.
Twice seven nymphs are in my house of body passing fair:
Of whom indeed Deïopea is fairest fashioned there.
I give her thee in wedlock sure, and call her all thine own
To wear away the years with thee, for thy deserving shown
To me this day; of offspring fair she too shall make thee sire.”
To whom spake Æolus: “O Queen, to search out thy desire
Is all thou needest toil herein; from me the deed should wend.
Thou mak’st my realm; the sway of all, and Jove thou mak’st my friend,
Thou givest me to lie with Gods when heavenly feast is dight,
And o’er the tempest and the cloud thou makest me of might.”
Therewith against the hollow hill he turned him spear in hand
And hurled it on the flank thereof, and as an ordered band
By whatso door the winds rush out o’er earth in whirling blast,
And driving down upon the sea its lowest deeps upcast.
The East, the West together there, the Afric, that doth hold
A heart fulfilled of stormy rain, huge billows shoreward rolled.
Therewith came clamour of the men and whistling through the shrouds
And heaven and day all suddenly were swallowed by the clouds
Away from eyes of Teucrian men; night on the ocean lies,
Pole thunders unto pole, and still with wildfire glare the skies,
And all things hold the face of death before the seamen’s eyes.
Now therewithal Æneas’ limbs grew weak with chilly dread,
He groaned, and lifting both his palms aloft to heaven, he said:
“O thrice and four times happy ye, that had the fate to fall
Before your fathers’ faces there by Troy’s beloved wall!
Tydides, thou of Danaan folk the mightiest under shield,
Why might I never lay me down upon the Ilian field,
Why was my soul forbid release at thy most mighty hand,
Where eager Hector stooped and lay before Achilles’ wand,
Where huge Sarpedon fell asleep, where Simoïs rolls along
The shields of men, and helms of men, and bodies of the strong?”
Thus as he cried the whistling North fell on with sudden gale
And drave the seas up toward the stars, and smote aback the sail;
Then break the oars, the bows fall off, and beam on in the trough
She lieth, and the sea comes on a mountain huge and rough.
These hang upon the topmost wave, and those may well discern
The sea’s ground mid the gaping whirl: with sand the surges churn.
Three keels the South wind cast away on hidden reefs that lie
Midmost the sea, the Altars called by men of Italy,
A huge back thrusting through the tide: three others from the deep
The East toward straits, and swallowing sands did miserably sweep,
And dashed them on the shoals, and heaped the sand around in ring:
And one, a keel the Lycians manned, with him, the trusty King
Orontes, in Æneas’ sight a toppling wave o’erhung,
And smote the poop, and headlong rolled, adown the helmsman flung;
Then thrice about the driving flood hath hurled her as she lay,
The hurrying eddy swept above and swallowed her from day:
And lo! things swimming here and there, scant in the unmeasured seas,
The arms of men, and painted boards, and Trojan treasuries.
And now Ilioneus’ stout ship, her that Achates leal
And Abas ferried o’er the main, and old Aletes’ keel
The storm hath overcome; and all must drink the baneful stream
Through opening leaky sides of them that gape at every seam.
But meanwhile Neptune, sorely moved, hath felt the storm let go,
And all the turmoil of the main with murmur great enow;
The deep upheaved from all abodes the lowest that there be:
So forth he put his placid face o’er topmost of the sea,
And there he saw Æneas’ ships o’er all the main besprent,
The Trojans beaten by the flood and ruin from heaven sent.
But Juno’s guile and wrathful heart her brother knew full well:
So East and West he called to him, and spake such words to tell:
“What mighty pride of race of yours hath hold upon your minds,
That earth and sea ye turmoil so without my will, O winds;
That such upheaval and so great ye dare without my will?
Whom I — But first it comes to hand the troubled flood to still:
For such-like fault henceforward though with nought so light ye pay.
Go get you gone, and look to it this to your king to say:
That ocean’s realm and three-tined spear of dread are given by Fate
Not unto him but unto me? he holds the cliffs o’ergreat,
Thine houses, Eurus; in that hall I bid him then be bold,
Thine Æolus, and lord it o’er his winds in barred hold.”
So saying and swifter than his word he layed the troubled main,
And put to flight the gathered clouds, and brought the sun again;
And with him Triton fell to work, and fair Cymothoë,
And thrust the ships from spiky rocks; with triple spear wrought he
To lift, and opened swallowing sands, and laid the waves alow.
Then on light wheels o’er ocean’s face soft gliding did he go.
And, like as mid a people great full often will arise
Huge riot, and all the low-born herd to utter anger flies,
And sticks and stones are in the air, and fury arms doth find:
Then, setting eyes perchance on one of weight for noble mind,
And noble deeds, they hush them then and stand with pricked-up ears,
And he with words becomes their lord, and smooth their anger wears;
— In such wise fell all clash of sea when that sea-father rose,
And looked abroad: who turned his steeds, and giving rein to those,
Flew forth in happy-gliding car through heaven’s all-open way.
Æneas’ sore forewearied host the shores that nearest lay
Stretch out for o’er the sea, and turn to Libyan land this while.
There goes a long firth of the sea, made haven by an isle,
Against whose sides thrust out abroad each wave the main doth send
Is broken, and must cleave itself through hollow bights to wend:
H
uge rocks on this hand and on that, twin horns of cliff, cast dread
On very heaven; and far and wide beneath each mighty head
Hushed are the harmless waters; lo, the flickering wood above
And wavering shadow cast adown by darksome hanging grove:
In face hereof a cave there is of rocks o’erhung, made meet
With benches of the living stone and springs of water sweet,
The house of Nymphs: a-riding there may way-worn ships be bold
To lie without the hawser’s strain or anchor’s hookèd hold.
That bight with seven of all his tale of ships Æneas gained,
And there, by mighty love of land the Trojans sore constrained,
Leap off-board straight, and gain the gift of that so longed-for sand,
And lay their limbs with salt sea fouled adown upon the strand:
And first Achates smote alive the spark from out the flint,
And caught the fire in tinder-leaves, and never gift did stint
Of feeding dry; and flame enow in kindled stuff he woke;
Then Ceres’ body spoilt with sea, and Ceres’ arms they took,
And sped the matter spent with toil, and fruit of furrows found
They set about to parch with fire and ‘twixt of stones to pound.
Meanwhile Æneas scaled the cliff and far and wide he swept
The main, if anywhere perchance the sea his Antheus kept,
Tossed by the wind, if he might see the twi-banked Phrygians row;
If Capys, or Caïcus’ arms on lofty deck might show.
Nor any ship there was in sight, but on the strand he saw
Three stags a-wandering at their will, and after them they draw
The whole herd following down the dales long strung out as they feed:
So still he stood, and caught in hand his bow and shafts of speed,
The weapons that Achates staunch was bearing then and oft;
And first the very lords of those, that bore their heads aloft
With branching horns, he felled, and then the common sort, and so
Their army drave he with his darts through leafy woods to go:
Nor held his hand till on the earth were seven great bodies strown,
And each of all his ships might have one head of deer her own.
Thence to the haven gat he gone with all his folk to share,
And that good wine which erst the casks Acestes made to bear,
And gave them as they went away on that Trinacrian beach,
He shared about; then fell to soothe their grieving hearts with speech:
“O fellows, we are used ere now by evil ways to wend;
O ye who erst bore heavier loads, this too the Gods shall end.
Ye, ye have drawn nigh Scylla’s rage and rocks that inly roar,
And run the risk of storm of stones upon the Cyclops’ shore:
Come, call aback your ancient hearts and put your fears away!
This too shall be for joy to you remembered on a day.
Through diverse haps, through many risks wherewith our way is strown,
We get us on to Latium, the land the Fates have shown
To be for peaceful seats for us: there may we raise up Troy.
Abide, endure, and keep yourselves for coming days of joy.”
So spake his voice: but his sick heart did mighty trouble rack,
As, glad of countenance, he thrust the heavy anguish back.
But they fall to upon the prey, and feast that was to dight,
And flay the hide from off the ribs, and bare the flesh to sight.
Some cut it quivering into steaks which on the spits they run,
Some feed the fire upon the shore, and set the brass thereon.
And so meat bringeth might again, and on the grass thereby,
Fulfilled with fat of forest deer and ancient wine, they lie.
But when all hunger was appeased and tables set aside,
Of missing fellows how they fared the talk did long abide;
Whom, weighing hope and weighing fear, either alive they trow,
Or that the last and worst has come, that called they hear not now.
And chief of all the pious King Æneas moaned the pass
Of brisk Orontes, Amycus, and cruel fate that was
Of Lycus, and of Bias strong, and strong Cloanthus gone.
But now an end of all there was, when Jove a-looking down
From highest lift on sail-skimmed sea, and lands that round it lie,
And shores and many folk about, in topmost burg of sky
Stood still, and fixed the eyes of God on Libya’s realm at last:
To whom, as through his breast and mind such cares of godhead passed,
Spake Venus, sadder than her due with bright eyes gathering tears:
“O thou, who rulest with a realm that hath no days nor years,
Both Gods and men, and mak’st them fear thy thunder lest it fall,
What then hath mine Æneas done so great a crime to call?
What might have Trojan men to sin? So many deaths they bore
‘Gainst whom because of Italy is shut the wide world’s door.
Was it not surely promised me that as the years rolled round
The blood of Teucer come again should spring from out the ground,
The Roman folk, such very lords, that all the earth and sea
Their sway should compass? Father, doth the counsel shift in thee?
This thing indeed atoned to me for Troy in ashes laid,
And all the miserable end, as fate ‘gainst fate I weighed:
But now the self-same fortune dogs men by such troubles driven
So oft and oft. What end of toil then giv’st thou, King of heaven?
Antenor was of might enow to ‘scape the Achæan host,
And safe to reach the Illyrian gulf and pierce Liburnia’s coast,
And through the inmost realms thereof to pass Timavus’ head,
Whence through nine mouths midst mountain roar is that wild water shed,
To cast itself on fields below with all its sounding sea:
And there he made Patavium’s town and Teucrian seats to be,
And gave the folk their very name and Trojan arms did raise:
Now settled in all peace and rest he passeth quiet days.
But we, thy children, unto whom thou giv’st with bowing head
The heights of heaven, our ships are lost, and we, O shame! betrayed,
Are driven away from Italy for anger but of one.
Is this the good man’s guerdon then? is this the promised throne?”
The Sower of the Gods and men a little smiled on her
With such a countenance as calms the storms and upper air;
He kissed his daughter on the lips, and spake such words to tell:
“O Cytherean, spare thy dread! unmoved the Fates shall dwell
Of thee and thine, and thou shalt see the promised city yet,
E’en that Lavinium’s walls, and high amidst the stars shalt set
Great-souled Æneas: nor in me doth aught of counsel shift
But since care gnaws upon thine heart, the hidden things I lift
Of Fate, and roll on time for thee, and tell of latter days.
Great war he wars in Italy, and folk full wild of ways
He weareth down, and lays on men both laws and wallèd steads,
Till the third summer seeth him King o’er the Latin heads,
And the third winter’s wearing brings the fierce Rutulians low.
Thereon the lad Ascanius, Iulus by-named now,
(And Ilus was he once of old, when Ilium’s city was,)
Fulfilleth thirty orbs of rule with rolling months that pass,
And from the town Lavinium shifts the dwelling of his race,
And maketh Alba-town the Long a mighty fencèd place.
Here when for thrice an hundred years untouched the land hath been
Beneath the rule
of Hector’s folk, lo Ilia, priestess-queen,
Goes heavy with the love of Mars, and bringeth twins to birth.
‘Neath yellow hide of foster-wolf thence, mighty in his mirth,
Comes Romulus to bear the folk, and Mavors’ walls to frame,
And by the word himself was called the Roman folk to name.
On them I lay no bonds of time, no bonds of earthly part;
I give them empire without end: yea, Juno, hard of heart,
Who wearieth now with fear of her the heavens and earth and sea,
Shall gather better counsel yet, and cherish them with me;
The Roman folk, the togaed men, lords of all worldly ways.
Such is the doom. As weareth time there come those other days,
Wherein Assaracus shall bind Mycenæ of renown,
And Phthia, and shall lord it o’er the Argives beaten down.
Then shall a Trojan Cæsar come from out a lovely name,
The ocean-stream shall bound his rule, the stars of heaven his fame,
Julius his name from him of old, the great Iulus sent:
Him too in house of heaven one day ‘neath spoils of Eastlands bent
Thou, happy, shalt receive; he too shall have the prayers of men.
The wars of old all laid aside, the hard world bettereth then,
And Vesta and the hoary Faith, Quirinus and his twin
Now judge the world; the dreadful doors of War now shut within
Their iron bolts and strait embrace the godless Rage of folk,
Who, pitiless, on weapons set, and bound in brazen yoke
Of hundred knots aback of him foams fell from bloody mouth.”
Such words he spake, and from aloft he sent down Maia’s youth
To cause the lands and Carthage towers new-built to open gate
And welcome in the Teucrian men; lest Dido, fooled of fate,
Should drive them from her country-side. The unmeasured air he beat
With flap of wings, and speedily in Libya set his feet:
And straightway there his bidding wrought, and from the Tyrians fall,
God willing it, their hearts of war; and Dido first of all
Took peace for Teucrians to her soul, and quiet heart and kind.
Now good Æneas through the night had many things in mind,
And set himself to fare abroad at first of holy day
To search the new land what it was, and on what shore he lay
Driven by the wind; if manfolk there abode, or nought but deer,
(For waste it seemed), and tidings true back to his folk to bear.
So in that hollow bight of groves beneath the cavern cleft,
