by Virgil
I . Of arms I sing, and of the man, whom Fate
First drove from Troy to the Lavinian shore.
Full many an evil, through the mindful hate
Of cruel Juno, from the gods he bore,
Much tost on earth and ocean, yea, and more
In war enduring, ere he built a home,
And his loved household-deities brought o’er
To Latium, whence the Latin people come, 1
Whence rose the Alban sires, and walls of lofty Rome.
II . O Muse, assist me and inspire my song,
The various causes and the crimes relate,
For what affronted majesty, what wrong
To injured Godhead, what offence so great
Heaven’s Queen resenting, with remorseless hate,
Could one renowned for piety compel
To brave such troubles, and endure the weight
Of toils so many and so huge. O tell 10
How can in heavenly minds such fierce resentment dwell?
III . There stood a city, fronting far away
The mouths of Tiber and Italia’s shore,
A Tyrian settlement of olden day,
Rich in all wealth, and trained to war’s rough lore,
Carthage the name, by Juno loved before
All places, even Samos. Here were shown
Her arms, and here her chariot; evermore
E’en then this land she cherished as her own, 19
And here, should Fate permit, had planned a world-wide throne.
IV . But she had heard, how men of Trojan seed
Those Tyrian towers should level, how again
From these in time a nation should proceed,
Wide-ruling, tyrannous in war, the bane
(So Fate was working) of the Libyan reign.
This feared she, mindful of the war beside
Waged for her Argives on the Trojan plain;
Nor even yet had from her memory died 28
The causes of her wrath, the pangs of wounded pride, —
V . The choice of Paris, and her charms disdained,
The hateful race, the lawless honours ta’en
By ravished Ganymede — these wrongs remained.
So fired with rage, the Trojans’ scanty train
By fierce Achilles and the Greeks unslain
She barred from Latium, and in evil strait
For many a year, on many a distant main
They wandered, homeless outcasts, tost by Fate; 37
So huge, so hard the task to found the Roman state.
VI . Scarce out of sight of Sicily, they set
Their sails to sea, and merrily ploughed the main,
With brazen beaks, when Juno, harbouring yet
Within her breast the ever-rankling pain,
Mused thus: “Must I then from the work refrain,
Nor keep this Trojan from the Latin throne,
Baffled, forsooth, because the Fates constrain?
Could Pallas burn the Grecian fleet, and drown 46
Their crews, for one man’s crime, Oileus’ frenzied son?
VII . “She, hurling Jove’s winged lightning, stirred the deep
And strewed the ships. Him, from his riven breast
The flames outgasping, with a whirlwind’s sweep
She caught and fixed upon a rock’s sharp crest.
But I, who walk the Queen of Heaven confessed,
Jove’s sister-spouse, shall I forevermore
With one poor tribe keep warring without rest?
Who then henceforth shall Juno’s power adore? 55
Who then her fanes frequent, her deity implore?”
VIII . Such thoughts revolving in her fiery mind,
Straightway the Goddess to Æolia passed,
The storm-clouds’ birthplace, big with blustering wind.
Here Æolus within a dungeon vast
The sounding tempest and the struggling blast
Bends to his sway and bridles them with chains.
They, in the rock reverberant held fast,
Moan at the doors. Here, throned aloft, he reigns; 64
His sceptre calms their rage, their violence restrains:
IX . Else earth and sea and all the firmament
The winds together through the void would sweep.
But, fearing this, the Sire omnipotent
Hath buried them in caverns dark and deep,
And o’er them piled huge mountains in a heap,
And set withal a monarch, there to reign,
By compact taught at his command to keep
Strict watch, and tighten or relax the rein. 73
Him now Saturnia sought, and thus in lowly strain:
X . “O Æolus, for Jove, of human kind
And Gods the sovran Sire, hath given to thee
To lull the waves and lift them with the wind,
A hateful people, enemies to me,
Their ships are steering o’er the Tuscan sea,
Bearing their Troy and vanquished gods away
To Italy. Go, set the storm-winds free,
And sink their ships or scatter them astray, 82
And strew their corpses forth, to weltering waves a prey.
XI . “Twice seven nymphs have I, beautiful to see;
One, Deiopeia, fairest of the fair,
In lasting wedlock will I link to thee,
Thy life-long years for such deserts to share,
And make thee parent of an offspring fair.” —
“Speak, Queen,” he answered, “to obey is mine.
To thee I owe this sceptre and whate’er
Of realm is here; thou makest Jove benign, 91
Thou giv’st to rule the storms and sit at feasts divine.”
XII . So spake the God and with her hest complied,
And turned the massive sceptre in his hand
And pushed the hollow mountain on its side.
Out rushed the winds, like soldiers in a band,
In wedged array, and, whirling, scour the land.
East, West and squally South-west, with a roar,
Swoop down on Ocean, and the surf and sand
Mix in dark eddies, and the watery floor 100
Heave from its depths, and roll huge billows to the shore.
XIII . Then come the creak of cables and the cries
Of seamen. Clouds the darkened heavens have drowned,
And snatched the daylight from the Trojans’ eyes.
Black night broods on the waters; all around
From pole to pole the rattling peals resound
And frequent flashes light the lurid air.
All nature, big with instant ruin, frowned
Destruction. Then Æneas’ limbs with fear 109
Were loosened, and he groaned and stretched his hands in prayer:
XIV . “Thrice, four times blest, who, in their fathers’ face
Fell by the walls of Ilion far away!
O son of Tydeus, bravest of the race,
Why could not I have perished, too, that day
Beneath thine arm, and breathed this soul away
Far on the plains of Troy, where Hector brave
Lay, pierced by fierce Æacides, where lay
Giant Sarpedon, and swift Simois’ wave 118
Rolls heroes, helms and shields, whelmed in one watery grave?”
XV . E’en as he cried, the hurricane from the North
Struck with a roar against the sail. Up leap
The waves to heaven; the shattered oars start forth;
Round swings the prow, and lets the waters sweep
The broadside. Onward comes a mountain heap
Of billows, gaunt, abrupt. These, horsed astride
A surge’s crest, rock pendent o’er the deep;
To those the wave’s huge hollow, yawning wide, 127
Lays bare the ground below; dark swells the sandy tide.
XVI . Three ships the South-wind catching hurls away
On hidden rocks, which (Latins from of yore
Have called them “Altars”) in mid ocean lay,
A huge ridge level with the tide. Three more
Fierce Eurus from the deep sea dashed ashore
On quicks and shallows, pitiful to view,
And round them heaped the sandbanks. One, that bore
The brave Orontes and his Lycian crew, 136
Full in Æneas’ sight a toppling wave o’erthrew.
XVII . Dashed from the tiller, down the pilot rolled.
Thrice round the billow whirled her, as she lay,
Then whelmed below. Strewn here and there behold
Arms, planks, lone swimmers in the surges grey,
And treasures snatched from Trojan homes away.
Now fail the ships wherein Achates ride
And Abas; old Aletes’ bark gives way,
And brave Ilioneus’. Each loosened side 145
Through many a gaping seam lets in the baleful tide.
XVIII . Meanwhile great Neptune, sore amazed, perceived
The storm let loose, the turmoil of the sky,
And ocean from its lowest depths upheaved.
With calm brow lifted o’er the sea, his eye
Beholds Troy’s navy scattered far and nigh,
And by the waves and ruining heaven oppressed
The Trojan crews. Nor failed he to espy
His sister’s wiles and hatred. East and West 154
He summoned to his throne, and thus his wrath expressed.
XIX . “What pride of birth possessed you, Earth and air
Without my leave to mingle in affray,
And raise such hubbub in my realm? Beware —
Yet first ‘twere best these billows to allay.
Far other coin hereafter ye shall pay
For crimes like these. Presumptuous winds, begone,
And take your king this message, that the sway
Of Ocean and the sceptre and the throne 163
Fate gave to me, not him; the trident is my own.
XX . “He holds huge rocks; these, Eurus, are for thee,
There let him glory in his hall and reign,
But keep his winds close prisoners.” Thus he,
And, ere his speech was ended, smoothed the main,
And chased the clouds and brought the sun again.
Triton, Cymothoe from the rock’s sharp brow
Push off the vessels. Neptune plies amain
His trident-lever, lays the sandbanks low, 172
On light wheels shaves the deep, and calms the billowy flow.
XXI . As when in mighty multitudes bursts out
Sedition, and the wrathful rabble rave;
Rage finds them arms; stones, firebrands fly about,
Then if some statesman reverend and grave,
Stand forth conspicuous, and the tumult brave
All, hushed, attend; his guiding words restrain
Their angry wills; so sank the furious wave,
When through the clear sky looking o’er the main, 181
The sea-king lashed his steeds and slacked the favouring rein.
XXII . Tired out, the Trojans seek the nearest land
And turn to Libya. — In a far retreat
There lies a haven; towards the deep doth stand
An island, on whose jutting headlands beat
The broken billows, shivered into sleet.
Two towering crags, twin giants, guard the cove,
And threat the skies. The waters at their feet
Sleep hushed, and, like a curtain, frowns above, 190
Mixt with the glancing green, the darkness of the grove.
XXIII . Beneath a precipice, that fronts the wave,
With limpid springs inside, and many a seat
Of living marble, lies a sheltered cave,
Home of the Sea-Nymphs. In this haven sweet
Cable nor biting anchor moors the fleet.
Here with seven ships, the remnant of his band,
Æneas enters. Glad at length to greet
The welcome earth, the Trojans leap to land, 199
And lay their weary limbs still dripping on the sand.
XXIV . First from a flint a spark Achates drew,
And lit the leaves and dry wood heaped with care
And set the fuel flaming, as he blew.
Then, tired of toiling, from the ships they bear
The sea-spoiled corn, and Ceres’ tools prepare,
And ‘twixt the millstones grind the rescued grain
And roast the pounded morsels for their fare:
While up the crag Æneas climbs, to gain 208
Full prospect far and wide, and scan the distant main.
XXV . If aught of Phrygian biremes he discern
Antheus or Capys, tost upon the seas,
Or arms of brave Caicus high astern.
No sail, but wandering on the shore he sees
Three stags, and, grazing up the vale at ease,
The whole herd troops behind them in a row.
He stops, and from Achates hastes to seize
His chance-brought arms, the arrows and the bow, 217
The branching antlers smites, and lays the leader low.
XXVI . Next fall the herd; and through the leafy glade
In mingled rout he drives the scattered train,
Plying his shafts, nor stays his conquering raid
Till seven huge bodies on the ground lie slain,
The number of his vessels; then again
He seeks the crews, and gives a deer to each,
Then opes the casks, which good Acestes, fain
At parting, filled on the Trinacrian beach, 226
And shares the wine, and soothes their drooping hearts with speech.
XXVII . “Comrades! of ills not ignorant; far more
Than these ye suffered, and to these as well
Will Jove give ending, as he gave before.
Ye know mad Scylla, and her monsters’ yell,
And the dark caverns where the Cyclops dwell.
Fear not; take heart; hereafter, it may be
These too will yield a pleasant tale to tell.
Through shifting hazards, by the Fates’ decree, 235
To Latin shores we steer, our promised land to see.
XXVIII . “There quiet settlements the Fates display,
There Troy her ruined fortunes shall repair.
Bear up; reserve you for a happier day.”
He spake, and heart-sick with a load of care,
Suppressed his grief, and feigned a cheerful air.
All straightway gird them to the feast. These flay
The ribs and thighs, and lay the entrails bare.
Those slice the flesh, and split the quivering prey, 244
And tend the fires and set the cauldrons in array.
XXIX . So wine and venison, to their hearts’ desire,
Refreshed their strength. And when the feast was sped,
Their missing friends in converse they require,
Doubtful to deem them, betwixt hope and dread,
Alive or out of hearing with the dead.
All mourned, but good Æneas mourned the most,
And bitter tears for Amycus he shed,
Gyas, Cloanthus, bravest of his host, 253
Lycus, Orontes bold, all counted with the lost.
XXX . Now came an end of mourning and of woe,
When Jove, surveying from his prospect high
Shore, sail-winged sea, and peopled earth below,
Stood, musing, on the summit of the sky,
And on the Libyan kingdom fixed his eye,
To him, such cares revolving in his breast,
Her shining eyes suffused with tears, came nigh
Fair Venus, for her darling son distrest, 262
And thus in sorrowing tones the Sire of heaven addressed;
XXXI . “O Thou, whose nod and awful bolts attest
O’er Gods and men thi
ne everlasting reign,
Wherein hath my Æneas so transgressed,
Wherein his Trojans, thus to mourn their slain,
Barred from the world, lest Italy they gain?
Surely from them the rolling years should see
New sons of ancient Teucer rise again,
The Romans, rulers of the land and sea. 271
So swar’st thou; Father, say, why changed is thy decree?
XXXII . “That word consoled me, weighing fate with fate,
For Troy’s sad fall. Now Fortune, as before,
Pursues the woe-worn victims of her hate.
O when, great Monarch, shall their toil be o’er?
Safe could Antenor pass th’ Illyrian shore
Through Danaan hosts, and realms Liburnian gain,
And climb Timavus and her springs explore,
Where through nine mouths, with roaring surge, the main 280
Bursts from the sounding rocks and deluges the plain.
XXXIII . “Yet there he built Patavium, yea, and named
The nation, and the Trojan arms laid down,
And now rests happy in the town he framed.
But we, thy progeny, to whom alone
Thy nod hath promised a celestial throne,
Our vessels lost, from Italy are barred,
O shame! and ruined for the wrath of one.
Thus, thus dost thou thy plighted word regard, 289
Our sceptred realms restore, our piety reward?”
XXXIV . Then Jove, soft-smiling with the look that clears
The storms, and gently kissing her, replies;
“Firm are thy fates, sweet daughter; spare thy fears.
Thou yet shalt see Lavinium’s walls arise,
And bear thy brave Æneas to the skies.
My purpose shifts not. Now, to ease thy woes,
Since sorrow for his sake hath dimmed thine eyes,
More will I tell, and hidden fates disclose. 298
He in Italia long shall battle with his foes,
XXXV . “And crush fierce tribes, and milder ways ordain,
And cities build and wield the Latin sway,
Till the third summer shall have seen him reign,
And three long winter-seasons passed away
Since fierce Rutulia did his arms obey.
