Complete Works of Virgil

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
r />   The welcome news, and bring him to the town.

  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,