by Virgil
Nay, no such violence our thoughts intend,
Such pride suits not the vanquished. Far away
There lies a place — Greeks style the land to-day
Hesperia — fruitful and of ancient fame
And strong in arms. OEnotrian folk, they say,
First tilled the soil. Italian is the name 622
Borne by the later race, with Italus who came.
LXXI . “Thither we sailed, when, rising with the wave,
Orion dashed us on the shoals, the prey
Of wanton winds, and mastering billows drave
Our vessels on the pathless rocks astray.
We few have floated to your shore. O say,
What manner of mankind is here? What land
Is this, to treat us in this barbarous way?
They grudge the very shelter of the sand, 631
And call to arms and bar our footsteps from the strand!
LXXII . “If human kind and mortal arms ye scorn,
Think of the Gods, who judge the wrong and right.
A king was ours, Æneas; ne’er was born
A man more just, more valiant in the fight,
More famed for piety and deeds of might.
If yet he lives and looks upon the sun,
Nor cruel death hath snatched him from the light,
No fear have we, nor need hast thou to shun 640
A Trojan guest, or rue kind offices begun.
LXXIII . “Towns yet for us in Sicily remain,
And arms, and, sprung from Trojan sires of yore,
Our kinsman there, Acestes, holds his reign.
Grant us to draw our scattered fleet ashore,
And fit new planks and branches for the oar.
So, if with king and comrades brought again,
The Fates allow us to reach Italia’s shore,
Italia gladly and the Latian plain 649
Seek we; but else, if thoughts of safety be in vain,
LXXIV . “If thee, dear Sire, the Libyan deep doth hide,
Nor hopes of young Iulus more can cheer,
Back let our barks to the Sicanian tide
And proffered homes and king Acestes steer.”
He spake; the Dardans answered with a cheer.
Then Dido thus, with downcast look sedate;
“Take courage, Trojans, and dismiss your fear.
My kingdom’s newness and the stress of Fate 658
Force me to guard far off the frontiers of my state.
LXXV . “Who knows not Troy, th’ Æneian house of fame,
The deeds and doers, and the war’s renown
That fired the world? Not hearts so dull and tame
Have Punic folk; not so is Phoebus known
To turn his back upon our Tyrian town.
Whether ye sail to great Hesperia’s shore
And Saturn’s fields, or seek the realms that own
Acestes’ sway, where Eryx reigned of yore, 667
Safe will I send you hence, and speed you with my store.
LXXVI . “Else, would ye settle in this realm, the town
I build is yours; draw up your ships to land.
Trojan and Tyrian will I treat as one.
Would that your king Æneas here could stand,
Driven by the gale that drove you to this strand!
Natheless, to scour the country, will I send
Some trusty messengers, with strict command
To search through Libya to the furthest end, 676
Lest, cast ashore, through town or lonely wood he wend.”
LXXVII . Roused by these words, long since the sire of Troy
Yearned, like his friend, their comrades to surprise
And burst the cloud. Then first with eager joy
“O Goddess-born,” the bold Achates cries,
“How now — what purpose doth thy mind devise?
Lo! all are safe — ships, comrades brought again;
One only fails us, who before our eyes
Sank in the midst of the engulfing main. 685
All else confirms the tale thy mother told thee plain.”
LXXVIII . Scarce had he said, when straight the ambient cloud
Broke open, melting into day’s clear light,
And bathed in sunshine stood the chief, endowed
With shape and features most divinely bright.
For graceful tresses and the purple light
Of youth did Venus in her child unfold,
And sprightly lustre breathed upon his sight,
Beauteous as ivory, or when artists mould 694
Silver or Parian stone, enchased in yellow gold.
LXXIX . Then to the queen, all wondering, he exclaimed,
“Behold me, Troy’s Æneas; I am here,
The man ye seek, from Libyan waves reclaimed.
Thou, who alone Troy’s sorrows deign’st to hear,
And us, the gleanings of the Danaan spear,
Poor world-wide wanderers and in desperate case,
Hast ta’en to share thy city and thy cheer,
Meet thanks nor we, nor what of Dardan race 703
Yet roams the earth, can give to recompense thy grace.
LXXX . “The gods, if gods the good and just regard,
And thy own conscience, that approves the right,
Grant thee due guerdon and a fit reward.
What happy ages did thy birth delight?
What godlike parents bore a child so bright?
While running rivers hasten to the main,
While yon pure ether feeds the stars with light,
While shadows round the hill-slopes wax and wane, 712
Thy fame, where’er I go, thy praises shall remain.”
LXXXI . So saying Æneas with his left hand pressed
Serestus, and Ilioneus with his right,
Brave Gyas, brave Cloanthus and the rest.
Then Dido, struck with wonder at the sight
Of one so great and in so strange a plight,
“O Goddess-born! what fate through dangers sore,
What force to savage coasts compels thy flight?
Art thou, then, that Æneas, whom of yore 721
Venus on Simois’ banks to old Anchises bore?
LXXXII . “Ay, well I mind me how in days of yore
To Sidon exiled Teucer crossed the main,
To seek new kingdoms and the aid implore
Of Belus. He, my father Belus, then
Ruled Cyprus, victor of the wasted plain,
Since then thy name and Ilion’s fate are known,
And all the princes of Pelasgia’s reign.
Himself, a foe, oft lauded Troy’s renown, 730
And claimed the Teucrian sires as kinsmen of his own.
LXXXIII . “Welcome, then, heroes! Me hath Fortune willed
Long tost, like you, through sufferings, here to rest
And find at length a refuge. Not unskilled
In woe, I learn to succour the distrest.”
So to the palace she escorts her guest,
And calls for festal honours in the shrine.
Then shoreward sends beeves twenty to the rest,
A hundred boars, of broad and bristly chine, 739
A hundred lambs and ewes and gladdening gifts of wine.
LXXXIV . Meanwhile with regal splendour they arrayed
The palace-hall, where feast and banquet high
All in the centre of the space is laid,
And forth they bring the broidered tapestry,
With purple dyed and wrought full cunningly.
The tables groan with silver; there are told
The deeds of prowess for the gazer’s eye,
A long, long series, of their sires of old, 748
Traced from the nation’s birth, and graven in the gold.
LXXXV . But good Æneas — for a father’s care
No rest allows him — to the ships sends down
Achates, to Ascanius charged to bear
The father’s fondness centres on the son.
Rich presents, too, he sends for, saved of old
From Troy, a veil, whose saffron edges shone
Fringed with acanthus, glorious to behold, 757
A broidered mantle, stiff with figures wrought in gold.
LXXXVI . Fair Helen’s ornaments, from Argos brought,
The gift of Leda, when the Trojan shore
And lawless nuptials o’er the waves she sought.
Therewith the royal sceptre, which of yore
Ilione, Priam’s eldest daughter, bore;
Her shining necklace, strung with costly beads,
And diadem, rimmed with gold and studded o’er
With sparkling gems. Thus charged, Achates heeds, 766
And towards the ships forthwith in eager haste proceeds.
LXXXVII . But crafty Cytherea planned meanwhile
New arts, new schemes, — that Cupid should conspire,
In likeness of Ascanius, to beguile
The queen with gifts, and kindle fierce desire,
And turn the marrow of her bones to fire.
Fierce Juno’s hatred rankles in her breast;
The two-faced house, the double tongues of Tyre
She fears, and with the night returns unrest; 775
So now to wingèd Love this mandate she addressed:
LXXXVIII . “O son, sole source of all my strength and power,
Who durst high Jove’s Typhoean bolts disdain,
To thee I fly, thy deity implore.
Thou know’st, who oft hast sorrowed with my pain,
How, tost by Juno’s rancour, o’er the main
Thy brother wanders. Him with speeches fair
And sweet allurements doth the queen detain;
But Juno’s hospitality I fear; 784
Scarce at an hour like this will she her hand forbear.
LXXXIX . “Soft snares I purpose round the queen to weave,
And wrap her soul in flames, that power malign
Shall never change her, but her heart shall cleave
Fast to Æneas with a love like mine.
Now learn, how best to compass my design.
To Tyrian Carthage hastes the princely boy,
Prompt at the summons of his sire divine,
My prime solicitude, my chiefest joy, 793
Fraught with brave store of gifts, saved from the flames of Troy.
XC . “Him on Idalia, lulled into a dream,
Will I secrete, or on the sacred height
Of lone Cythera, lest he learn the scheme,
Or by his sudden presence mar the sleight.
Take thou his likeness, only for a night,
And wear the boyish features that are thine;
And when the queen, in rapture of delight,
Amid the royal banquet and the wine, 802
Shall lock thee in her arms, and press her lips to thine,
XCI . “Then steal into her bosom, and inspire
Through all her veins with unsuspected sleight
The poisoned sting of passion and desire.”
Young Love obeys, and doffs his plumage light,
And, like Iulus, trips forth with delight.
She o’er Ascanius rains a soft repose,
And gently bears him to Idalia’s height,
Where breathing marjoram around him throws 811
Sweet shade, and odorous flowers his slumbering limbs compose.
XCII . Forth Cupid, at his mother’s word, repairs,
And merrily, for brave Achates led,
The royal presents to the Tyrians bears.
There, under gorgeous curtains, at the head
Sate Dido, throned upon a golden bed.
There, flocking in, the Trojans and their King
Recline on purple coverlets outspread.
Bread, heaped in baskets, the attendants bring, 820
Towels with smooth-shorn nap, and water from the spring.
XCIII . Within are fifty maidens, charged with care
To dress the food, and nurse the flames divine.
A hundred more, and youths like-aged, prepare
To load the tables and arrange the wine.
There, entering too, on broidered seats recline
The Tyrians, crowding through the festive court.
They praise the boy, his glowing looks divine,
The words he feigned, the royal gifts he brought, 829
The robe, the saffron veil with bright acanthus wrought.
XCIV . Doomed to devouring Love, the hapless queen
Burns as she gazes, with insatiate fire,
Charmed by his presents and his youthful mien:
He, fondly clinging to his fancied sire,
Gave all the love that parents’ hearts desire,
Then seeks the queen. She, fixing on the boy
Her eyes, her soul, impatient to admire,
Now, fondling, folds him to her lap with joy; 838
Weetless, alas! what god is plotting to destroy.
XCV . True to his Paphian mother, trace by trace,
Slowly the Love-god with prevenient art,
Begins the lost Sychæus to efface,
And living passion to a breast impart
Long dead to feeling, and a vacant heart.
Now, hushed the banquet and the tables all
Removed, huge wine-bowls for each guest apart
They wreathe with flowers. The noise of festival 847
Rings through the spacious courts, and rolls along the hall.
XCVI . There, blazing from the gilded roof, are seen
Bright lamps, and torches turn the night to day.
Now for the ponderous goblet called the Queen,
Of jewelled gold, which Belus used and they
Of Belus’ line, and poured the wine straightway,
And prayed, while silence filled the crowded hall:
“Great Jove, the host’s lawgiver, bless this day
To these my Tyrians and the Trojans all. 856
Long may our children’s sons this solemn feast recall.
XCVII . “Come, jolly Bacchus, giver of delight;
Kind Juno, come; and ye with fair accord
And friendly spirit hold the feast aright.”
So spake the Queen, and on the festal board
The prime libation to the gods outpoured,
Then lightly to her lips the goblet pressed,
And gave to Bitias. Challenged by the word,
He dived into the brimming gold with zest, 865
And quaffed the foaming bowl, and after him, the rest.
XCVIII . His golden lyre long-haired Iopas tunes,
And sings what Atlas taught in loftiest strain;
The suns’ eclipses and the changing moons,
Whence man and beast, whence lightning and the rain,
Arcturus, watery Hyads and the Wain;
What causes make the winter nights so long,
Why sinks the sun so quickly in the main;
All this he sings, and ravished at the song, 874
Tyrians and Trojan guests the loud applause prolong.
XCIX . With various talk the night poor Dido wore,
And drank deep love, and nursed her inward flame,
Of Priam much she asks, of Hector more,
Now in what arms Aurora’s offspring came,
Of Diomede’s horses and Achilles’ fame.
“Tell me,” she says, “thy wanderings; stranger, come,
Thy friends’ mishaps and Danaan wiles proclaim;
For seven long summers now have seen thee roam 883
O’er every land and sea, far from thy native home.”
BOOK TWO
ARGUMENT
Æneas’ story. — The Greeks, baffled in battle, built a wooden horse, in which their leaders took ambush. Their fleet sailed to Tenedos. The Trojans, but for Capys and Laocoon, had dragged the
horse forthwith as a trophy into Troy (1-72). Sinon, a Greek, brought before Priam, feigns righteous indignation against Greece. The Trojans sympathise and believe his story of wrongs done him by Ulysses (73-126). “When Greek plans of flight had often,” says Sinon, “been foiled by storms, oracles foretold that only a human sacrifice could purchase their escape.” Chosen for victim, Sinon had fled. He solemnly declares the horse to be an offering to Pallas. “Destroy it, and you are lost. Preserve it in your citadel, your revenge is assured” (127-222). Treachery triumphs. Laocoon’s cruel fate is ascribed to his sacrilegious attack upon the horse, which is brought with rejoicing into Troy, despite a last warning, from Cassandra (223-288). While Troy sleeps, the fleet returns, and Sinon releases the Greeks from the horse (289-315). Hector’s wraith warns Æneas in a dream to flee with the sacred vessels and images (316-351), and Panthus brings news of Sinon’s treachery. The city is in flames. Æneas heads a forlorn hope of rescue (352-441). He and his followers exchange armour with certain Greeks slain in the darkness. The ruse succeeds until they are taken for enemies by their friends. The Greeks rally. The Trojans scatter. At Priam’s palace a last stand is made, but Pyrrhus forces the great gates, and the defenders are massacred (442-603). Priam’s fate. — The sight of his headless corpse draws Æneas’ thoughts to his own father’s danger. Hastening homewards he espies Helen, and is pausing to take vengeance and her life, when (604-711) Venus intervening opens his eyes to see the gods aiding the Greeks (712-756). Æneas regains his home. Anchises obstinately refuses to flee, until a halo is seen about the head of Ascanius (757-828), whereupon he accepts the omen and yields. The escape. — In a sudden panic Creusa is lost (829-900). Æneas, at peril of his life, is seeking her throughout the city, when her wraith appears and bids him away. “She is dead in Troytown: in Italy empire awaits him.” She vanishes: day dawns: and Æneas, with Anchises and the surviving Trojans, flees to the hills (901-972).
I . All hushed intent, when from his lofty seat
Troy’s sire began, “O queen, a tale too true,
Too sad for words, thou biddest me repeat;
How Ilion perished, and the Danaan crew
Her power and all her wailful realm o’erthrew:
The woes I saw, thrice piteous to behold,
