Book I

Arms and the man I sing, who first made way,

predestined exile, from the Trojan shore

to Italy , the blest Lavinian strand.

Smitten of storms he was on land and sea

by violence of Heaven, to satisfy

stern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war

he suffered, seeking at the last to found

the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods

to safe abode in Latium ; whence arose

the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords,

and from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome .

O Muse, the causes tell! What sacrilege,

or vengeful sorrow, moved the heavenly Queen

to thrust on dangers dark and endless toil

a man whose largest honor in men's eyes

was serving Heaven? Can gods such anger feel?

In ages gone an ancient city stood—

Carthage , a Tyrian seat, which from afar

made front on Italy and on the mouths

of Tiber 's stream; its wealth and revenues

were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war.

'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved,

most cherished this,—not Samos ' self so dear.

Here were her arms, her chariot; even then

a throne of power o'er nations near and far,

if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hope

to 'stablish here; but anxiously she heard

that of the Trojan blood there was a breed

then rising, which upon the destined day

should utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers,

a people of wide sway and conquest proud

should compass Libya 's doom;—such was the web

the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear

of Saturn's daughter, who remembered well

what long and unavailing strife she waged

for her loved Greeks at Troy . Nor did she fail

to meditate th' occasions of her rage,

and cherish deep within her bosom proud

its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made;

her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole race

rebellious to her godhead; and Jove's smile

that beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede.

With all these thoughts infuriate, her power

pursued with tempests o'er the boundless main

the Trojans, though by Grecian victor spared

and fierce Achilles; so she thrust them far

from Latium ; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled,

year after year, o'er many an unknown sea—

O labor vast, to found the Roman line!

Below th' horizon the Sicilian isle

just sank from view, as for the open sea

with heart of hope they sailed, and every ship

clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves.

But Juno of her everlasting wound

knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain

thus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, fail

of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King

from Italy away? Can Fate oppose?

Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame

the Argive fleet and sink its mariners,

revenging but the sacrilege obscene

by Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son?

She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw,

scattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms.

Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire,

in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung.

But I, who move among the gods a queen,

Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe

make war so long! Who now on Juno calls?

What suppliant gifts henceforth her altars crown?”

So, in her fevered heart complaining still,

unto the storm-cloud land the goddess came,

a region with wild whirlwinds in its womb,

Aeolia named, where royal Aeolus

in a high-vaulted cavern keeps control

o'er warring winds and loud concourse of storms.

There closely pent in chains and bastions strong,

they, scornful, make the vacant mountain roar,

chafing against their bonds. But from a throne

of lofty crag, their king with sceptred hand

allays their fury and their rage confines.

Did he not so, our ocean, earth, and sky

were whirled before them through the vast inane.

But over-ruling Jove, of this in fear,

hid them in dungeon dark: then o'er them piled

huge mountains, and ordained a lawful king

to hold them in firm sway, or know what time,

with Jove's consent, to loose them o'er the world.

To him proud Juno thus made lowly plea:

“Thou in whose hands the Father of all gods

and Sovereign of mankind confides the power

to calm the waters or with winds upturn,

great Aeolus! a race with me at war

now sails the Tuscan main towards Italy ,

bringing their Ilium and its vanquished powers.

Uprouse thy gales. Strike that proud navy down!

Hurl far and wide, and strew the waves with dead!

Twice seven nymphs are mine, of rarest mould;

of whom Deiopea, the most fair,

I give thee in true wedlock for thine own,

to mate thy noble worth; she at thy side

shall pass long, happy years, and fruitful bring

her beauteous offspring unto thee their sire.”

Then Aeolus: “'T is thy sole task, O Queen,

to weigh thy wish and will. My fealty

thy high behest obeys. This humble throne

is of thy gift. Thy smiles for me obtain

authority from Jove. Thy grace concedes

my station at your bright Olympian board,

and gives me lordship of the darkening storm.”

Replying thus, he smote with spear reversed

the hollow mountain's wall; then rush the winds

through that wide breach in long, embattled line,

and sweep tumultuous from land to land:

with brooding pinions o'er the waters spread,

east wind and south, and boisterous Afric gale

upturn the sea; vast billows shoreward roll;

the shout of mariners, the creak of cordage,

follow the shock; low-hanging clouds conceal

from Trojan eyes all sight of heaven and day;

night o'er the ocean broods; from sky to sky

the thunders roll, the ceaseless lightnings glare;

and all things mean swift death for mortal man.

Straightway Aeneas, shuddering with amaze,

groaned loud, upraised both holy hands to Heaven,

and thus did plead: “O thrice and four times blest,

ye whom your sires and whom the walls of Troy

looked on in your last hour! O bravest son

Greece ever bore, Tydides! O that I

had fallen on Ilian fields, and given this life

struck down by thy strong hand! where by the spear

of great Achilles, fiery Hector fell,

and huge Sarpedon; where the Simois

in furious flood engulfed and whirled away

so many helms and shields and heroes slain!”

While thus he cried to Heaven, a shrieking blast

smote full upon the sail. Up surged the waves

to strike the very stars; in fragments flew

the shattered oars; the helpless vessel veered

and gave her broadside to the roaring flood,

where watery mountains rose and burst and fell.

Now high in air she hangs, then yawning gulfs

lay bare the shoals and sands o'er which she drives.

Three ships a whirling south wind snatched and flung

on hidden rocks,—altars of sacrifice

Italians call them, which lie far from shore

a vast ridge in the sea; three ships beside

an east wind, blowing landward from the deep,

drove on the shallows,—pitiable sight,—

and girdled them in walls of drifting sand.

That ship, which, with his friend Orontes, bore

the Lycian mariners, a great, plunging wave

struck straight astern, before Aeneas' eyes.

Forward the steersman rolled and o'er the side

fell headlong, while three times the circling flood

spun the light bark through swift engulfing seas.

Look, how the lonely swimmers breast the wave!

And on the waste of waters wide are seen

weapons of war, spars, planks, and treasures rare,

once Ilium 's boast, all mingled with the storm.

Now o'er Achates and Ilioneus,

now o'er the ship of Abas or Aletes,

bursts the tempestuous shock; their loosened seams

yawn wide and yield the angry wave its will.

Meanwhile how all his smitten ocean moaned,

and how the tempest's turbulent assault

had vexed the stillness of his deepest cave,

great Neptune knew; and with indignant mien

uplifted o'er the sea his sovereign brow.

He saw the Teucrian navy scattered far

along the waters; and Aeneas' men

o'erwhelmed in mingling shock of wave and sky.

Saturnian Juno's vengeful stratagem

her brother's royal glance failed not to see;

and loud to eastward and to westward calling,

he voiced this word: “What pride of birth or power

is yours, ye winds, that, reckless of my will,

audacious thus, ye ride through earth and heaven,

and stir these mountain waves? Such rebels I—

nay, first I calm this tumult! But yourselves

by heavier chastisement shall expiate

hereafter your bold trespass. Haste away

and bear your king this word! Not unto him

dominion o'er the seas and trident dread,

but unto me, Fate gives. Let him possess

wild mountain crags, thy favored haunt and home,

O Eurus! In his barbarous mansion there,

let Aeolus look proud, and play the king

in yon close-bounded prison-house of storms!”

He spoke, and swiftlier than his word subdued

the swelling of the floods; dispersed afar

th' assembled clouds, and brought back light to heaven.

Cymothoe then and Triton, with huge toil,

thrust down the vessels from the sharp-edged reef;

while, with the trident, the great god's own hand

assists the task; then, from the sand-strewn shore

out-ebbing far, he calms the whole wide sea,

and glides light-wheeled along the crested foam.

As when, with not unwonted tumult, roars

in some vast city a rebellious mob,

and base-born passions in its bosom burn,

till rocks and blazing torches fill the air

(rage never lacks for arms)—if haply then

some wise man comes, whose reverend looks attest

a life to duty given, swift silence falls;

all ears are turned attentive; and he sways

with clear and soothing speech the people's will.

So ceased the sea's uproar, when its grave Sire

looked o'er th' expanse, and, riding on in light,

flung free rein to his winged obedient car.

Aeneas' wave-worn crew now landward made,

and took the nearest passage, whither lay

the coast of Libya . A haven there

walled in by bold sides of a rocky isle,

offers a spacious and secure retreat,

where every billow from the distant main

breaks, and in many a rippling curve retires.

Huge crags and two confronted promontories

frown heaven-high, beneath whose brows outspread

the silent, sheltered waters; on the heights

the bright and glimmering foliage seems to show

a woodland amphitheatre; and yet higher

rises a straight-stemmed grove of dense, dark shade.

Fronting on these a grotto may be seen,

o'erhung by steep cliffs; from its inmost wall

clear springs gush out; and shelving seats it has

of unhewn stone, a place the wood-nymphs love.

In such a port, a weary ship rides free

of weight of firm-fluked anchor or strong chain.

Hither Aeneas of his scattered fleet

saving but seven, into harbor sailed;

with passionate longing for the touch of land,

forth leap the Trojans to the welcome shore,

and fling their dripping limbs along the ground.

Then good Achates smote a flinty stone,

secured a flashing spark, heaped on light leaves,

and with dry branches nursed the mounting flame.

Then Ceres' gift from the corrupting sea

they bring away; and wearied utterly

ply Ceres' cunning on the rescued corn,

and parch in flames, and mill 'twixt two smooth stones.

Aeneas meanwhile climbed the cliffs, and searched

the wide sea-prospect; haply Antheus there,

storm-buffeted, might sail within his ken,

with biremes, and his Phrygian mariners,

or Capys or Caicus armor-clad,

upon a towering deck. No ship is seen;

but while he looks, three stags along the shore

come straying by, and close behind them comes

the whole herd, browsing through the lowland vale

in one long line. Aeneas stopped and seized

his bow and swift-winged arrows, which his friend,

trusty Achates, close beside him bore.

His first shafts brought to earth the lordly heads

of the high-antlered chiefs; his next assailed

the general herd, and drove them one and all

in panic through the leafy wood, nor ceased

the victory of his bow, till on the ground

lay seven huge forms, one gift for every ship.

Then back to shore he sped, and to his friends

distributed the spoil, with that rare wine

which good Acestes while in Sicily

had stored in jars, and prince-like sent away

with his Ioved guest;—this too Aeneas gave;

and with these words their mournful mood consoled.

“Companions mine, we have not failed to feel

calamity till now. O, ye have borne

far heavier sorrow: Jove will make an end

also of this. Ye sailed a course hard by

infuriate Scylla's howling cliffs and caves.

Ye knew the Cyclops' crags. Lift up your hearts!

No more complaint and fear! It well may be

some happier hour will find this memory fair.

Through chance and change and hazard without end,

our goal is Latium ; where our destinies

beckon to blest abodes, and have ordained

that Troy shall rise new-born! Have patience all!

And bide expectantly that golden day.”

Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care,

feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore,

and locked within his heart a hero's pain.

Now round the welcome trophies of his chase

they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs

and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives,

and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale,

place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires.

Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green,

they rally their lost powers, and feast them well

on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game.

But hunger banished and the banquet done,

in long discourse of their lost mates they tell,

'twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows

whether the lost ones live, or strive with death,

or heed no more whatever voice may call?

Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends,

Orontes brave and fallen Amycus,

or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom

of bold young Gyas and Cloanthus bold.

After these things were past, exalted Jove,

from his ethereal sky surveying clear

the seas all winged with sails, lands widely spread,

and nations populous from shore to shore,

paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze

on Libya . But while he anxious mused,

near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears,

nor smiling any more, Venus approached,

and thus complained: “O thou who dost control

things human and divine by changeless laws,

enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong

could my Aeneas and his Trojans few

achieve against thy power? For they have borne

unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy ,

the gates of all the world against them close.

Hast thou not given us thy covenant

that hence the Romans when the rolling years

have come full cycle, shall arise to power

from Troy 's regenerate seed, and rule supreme

the unresisted lords of land and sea?

O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I

in Troy 's most lamentable wreck and woe

consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft

our destined good against our destined ill!

But the same stormful fortune still pursues

my band of heroes on their perilous way.

When shall these labors cease, O glorious King?

Antenor, though th' Achaeans pressed him sore,

found his way forth, and entered unassailed

Illyria 's haven, and the guarded land

of the Liburni. Straight up stream he sailed

where like a swollen sea Timavus pours

a nine-fold flood from roaring mountain gorge,

and whelms with voiceful wave the fields below.

He built Patavium there, and fixed abodes

for Troy 's far-exiled sons; he gave a name

to a new land and race; the Trojan arms

were hung on temple walls; and, to this day,

lying in perfect peace, the hero sleeps.

But we of thine own seed, to whom thou dost

a station in the arch of heaven assign,

behold our navy vilely wrecked, because

a single god is angry; we endure

this treachery and violence, whereby

wide seas divide us from th' Hesperian shore.

Is this what piety receives? Or thus

doth Heaven's decree restore our fallen thrones?”

Smiling reply, the Sire of gods and men,

with such a look as clears the skies of storm

chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on:

“Let Cytherea cast her fears away!

Irrevocably blest the fortunes be

of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see

that City, and the proud predestined wall

encompassing Lavinium . Thyself

shall starward to the heights of heaven bear

Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves

my will once uttered. Since such carking cares

consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth,

and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold.

Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war

and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall

and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond

about his gathered people. Summers three

shall Latium call him king; and three times pass

the winter o'er Rutulia's vanquished hills.

His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called

(Ilus it was while Ilium 's kingdom stood),

full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne

from the Lavinian citadel, and build

for Alba Longa its well-bastioned wall.

Here three full centuries shall Hector's race

have kingly power; till a priestess queen,

by Mars conceiving, her twin offspring bear;

then Romulus, wolf-nursed and proudly clad

in tawny wolf-skin mantle, shall receive

the sceptre of his race. He shall uprear

and on his Romans his own name bestow.

To these I give no bounded times or power,

but empire without end. Yea, even my Queen,

Juno, who now chastiseth land and sea

with her dread frown, will find a wiser way,

and at my sovereign side protect and bless

the Romans, masters of the whole round world,

who, clad in peaceful toga, judge mankind.

Such my decree! In lapse of seasons due,

the heirs of Ilium 's kings shall bind in chains

Mycenae 's glory and Achilles' towers,

and over prostrate Argos sit supreme.

Of Trojan stock illustriously sprung,

lo, Caesar comes! whose power the ocean bounds,

whose fame, the skies. He shall receive the name

Iulus nobly bore, great Julius, he.

Him to the skies, in Orient trophies dress,

thou shalt with smiles receive; and he, like us,

shall hear at his own shrines the suppliant vow.

Then will the world grow mild; the battle-sound

will be forgot; for olden Honor then,

with spotless Vesta, and the brothers twain,

Remus and Romulus, at strife no more,

will publish sacred laws. The dreadful gates

whence issueth war, shall with close-jointed steel

be barred impregnably; and prisoned there

the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords,

and fettered by a hundred brazen chains,

shall belch vain curses from his lips of gore.”

These words he gave, and summoned Maia's son,

the herald Mercury, who earthward flying,

should bid the Tyrian realms and new-built towers

welcome the Trojan waifs; lest Dido, blind

to Fate's decree, should thrust them from the land.

He takes his flight, with rhythmic stroke of wing,

across th' abyss of air, and soon draws near

unto the Libyan mainland. He fulfils

his heavenly task; the Punic hearts of stone

grow soft beneath the effluence divine;

and, most of all, the Queen, with heart at ease

awaits benignantly her guests from Troy .

But good Aeneas, pondering all night long

his many cares, when first the cheerful dawn

upon him broke, resolved to take survey

of this strange country whither wind and wave

had driven him,—for desert land it seemed,—

to learn what tribes of man or beast possess

a place so wild, and careful tidings bring

back to his friends. His fleet of ships the while,

where dense, dark groves o'er-arch a hollowed crag,

he left encircled in far-branching shade.

Then with no followers save his trusty friend

Achates, he went forth upon his way,

two broad-tipped javelins poising in his hand.

Deep to the midmost wood he went, and there

his Mother in his path uprose; she seemed

in garb and countenance a maid, and bore,

like Spartan maids, a weapon; in such guise

Harpalyce the Thracian urges on

her panting coursers and in wild career

outstrips impetuous Hebrus as it flows.

Over her lovely shoulders was a bow,

slender and light, as fits a huntress fair;

her golden tresses without wimple moved

in every wind, and girded in a knot

her undulant vesture bared her marble knees.

She hailed them thus: “Ho, sirs, I pray you tell

if haply ye have noted, as ye came,

one of my sisters in this wood astray?

She bore a quiver, and a lynx's hide

her spotted mantle was; perchance she roused

some foaming boar, and chased with loud halloo.”

So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied:

“No voice or vision of thy sister fair

has crossed my path, thou maid without a name!

Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould,

nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess,

art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph,

the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art,

thy favor we implore, and potent aid

in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies,

or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found!

Strange are these lands and people where we rove,

compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand

shall many a victim on thine altar slay!”

Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive

honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft

bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white

lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies

the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold

Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell

the Libyans, by battles unsubdued.

Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there

from Tyre , to flee th' unnatural enmity

of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong;

too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be;

I trace the larger outline of her story:

Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad

no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed

by his ill-fated lady's fondest love,

whose father gave him her first virgin bloom

in youthful marriage. But the kingly power

among the Tyrians to her brother came,

Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime

in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose

a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch,

blinded by greed, and reckless utterly

of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul

upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus,

and at the very altar hewed him down.

Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully

deceived with false hopes, and empty words,

her grief and stricken love. But as she slept,

her husband's tombless ghost before her came,

with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare

his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so

the blood-stained altar and the infamy

that darkened now their house. His counsel was

to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land,

and for her journey's aid, he whispered where

his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown

of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged,

Dido, assembling her few trusted friends,

prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause

all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king,

or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships,

which haply rode at anchor in the bay,

and loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth

of vile and covetous Pygmalion

they took to sea. A woman wrought this deed.

Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes

behold yon walls and yonder citadel

of newly rising Carthage . For a price

they measured round so much of Afric soil

as one bull's hide encircles, and the spot

received its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray,

what men are ye? from what far land arrived,

and whither going?” When she questioned thus,

her son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths,

this answer gave:

“Divine one, if I tell

my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause

to heed the tale, first would the vesper star

th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day

in slumber lie. Of ancient Troy are we—

if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved

from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm

cast us up hither on this Libyan coast.

I am Aeneas, faithful evermore

to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear

my gods ancestral, which I snatched away

from peril of the foe. My fame is known

above the stars. I travel on in quest

of Italy , my true home-land, and I

from Jove himself may trace my birth divine.

With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main

I launched away. My mother from the skies

gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained.

Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive

the shock of wind and wave; and I myself

friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down

this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here,

from Europe and from Asia exiled still!”

But Venus could not let him longer plain,

and stopped his grief midway:

“Whoe'er thou art,

I deem that not unblest of heavenly powers,

with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither

unto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on,

and to the royal threshold make thy way!

I bring thee tidings that thy comrades all

are safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed

by favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie;

or else in vain my parents gave me skill

to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans!

A flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file,

erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down

from his ethereal haunt, now form anew

their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place,

or, hovering over, scan some chosen ground,

or soaring high, with whir of happy wings,

re-circle heaven in triumphant song:

likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners

are landed, or fly landward at full sail.

Up, then! let yon plain path thy guidance be,”

She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam

from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair

breathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes

fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed

the veritable goddess. Now he knew

that vision was his mother, and his words

pursued the fading phantom as it fled:

“Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er

with mocking dreams,—another cruel god?

Hast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange

of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?”

Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way

toward the city's rampart. Venus then

o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,—

a liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,—

that viewless they might pass, nor would any

obstruct, delay, or question why they came.

To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode,

where stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines

garlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe,

and clouds of orient sweetness waft away.

Meanwhile the wanderers swiftly journey on

along the clear-marked road, and soon they climb

the brow of a high hill, which close in view

o'er-towers the city's crown. The vast exploit,

where lately rose but Afric cabins rude,

Aeneas wondered at: the smooth, wide ways;

the bastioned gates; the uproar of the throng.

The Tyrians toil unwearied; some up-raise

a wall or citadel, from far below

lifting the ponderous stone; or with due care

choose where to build, and close the space around

with sacred furrow; in their gathering-place

the people for just governors, just laws,

and for their reverend senate shout acclaim.

Some clear the harbor mouth; some deeply lay

the base of a great theatre, and carve out

proud columns from the mountain, to adorn

their rising stage with lofty ornament.

so busy bees above a field of flowers

in early summer amid sunbeams toil,

leading abroad their nation's youthful brood;

or with the flowing honey storing close

the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er

with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm

they take their little loads; or lined for war,

rout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive;

brisk is the task, and all the honeyed air

breathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven.

These men that see their promised ramparts rise!”

Aeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved

from tower to tower; then on his way he fared,

veiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen

of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!—

he threaded the thronged streets, unmarked, unknown.

Deep in the city's heart there was a grove

of beauteous shade, where once the Tyrians,

cast here by stormful waves, delved out of earth

that portent which Queen Juno bade them find,—

the head of a proud horse,—that ages long

their boast might be wealth, luxury and war.

Upon this spot Sidonian Dido raised

a spacious fane to Juno, which became

splendid with gifts, and hallowed far and wide

for potency divine. Its beams were bronze,

and on loud hinges swung the brazen doors.

A rare, new sight this sacred grove did show,

which calmed Aeneas' fears, and made him bold

to hope for safety, and with lifted heart

from his low-fallen fortunes re-aspire.

For while he waits the advent of the Queen,

he scans the mighty temple, and admires

the city's opulent pride, and all the skill

its rival craftsmen in their work approve.

Behold! he sees old Ilium 's well-fought fields

in sequent picture, and those famous wars

now told upon men's lips the whole world round.

There Atreus' sons, there kingly Priam moved,

and fierce Pelides pitiless to both.

Aeneas paused, and, weeping, thus began:

“Alas, Achates, what far region now,

what land in all the world knows not our pain?

See, it is Priam! Virtue's wage is given—

O even here! Here also there be tears

for what men bear, and mortal creatures feel

each other's sorrow. Therefore, have no fear!

This story of our loss forbodes us well.”

So saying, he received into his heart

that visionary scene, profoundly sighed,

and let his plenteous tears unheeded flow.

There he beheld the citadel of Troy

girt with embattled foes; here, Greeks in flight

some Trojan onset 'scaped; there, Phrygian bands

before tall-plumed Achilles' chariot sped.

The snowy tents of Rhesus spread hard by

(he sees them through his tears), where Diomed

in night's first watch burst o'er them unawares

with bloody havoc and a host of deaths;

then drove his fiery coursers o'er the plain

before their thirst or hunger could be stayed

on Trojan corn or Xanthus ' cooling stream.

Here too was princely Troilus, despoiled,

routed and weaponless, O wretched boy!

Ill-matched against Achilles! His wild steeds

bear him along, as from his chariot's rear

he falls far back, but clutches still the rein;

his hair and shoulders on the ground go trailing,

and his down-pointing spear-head scrawls the dust.

Elsewhere, to Pallas' ever-hostile shrine,

daughters of Ilium , with unsnooded hair,

and lifting all in vain her hallowed pall,

walked suppliant and sad, beating their breasts,

with outspread palms. But her unswerving eyes

the goddess fixed on earth, and would not see.

Achilles round the Trojan rampart thrice

had dragged the fallen Hector, and for gold

was making traffic of the lifeless clay.

Aeneas groaned aloud, with bursting heart,

to see the spoils, the car, the very corpse

of his lost friend,—while Priam for the dead

stretched forth in piteous prayer his helpless hands.

There too his own presentment he could see

surrounded by Greek kings; and there were shown

hordes from the East, and black-browed Memnon's arms;

her band of Amazons, with moon-shaped shields,

Penthesilea led; her martial eye

flamed on from troop to troop; a belt of gold

beneath one bare, protruded breast she bound—

a warrior-virgin braving mail-clad men.

While on such spectacle Aeneas' eyes

looked wondering, while mute and motionless

he stood at gaze, Queen Dido to the shrine

in lovely majesty drew near; a throng

of youthful followers pressed round her way.

So by the margin of Eurotas wide

or o'er the Cynthian steep, Diana leads

her bright processional; hither and yon

are visionary legions numberless

of Oreads; the regnant goddess bears

a quiver on her shoulders, and is seen

emerging tallest of her beauteous train;

while joy unutterable thrills the breast

of fond Latona: Dido not less fair

amid her subjects passed, and not less bright

her glow of gracious joy, while she approved

her future kingdom's pomp and vast emprise.

Then at the sacred portal and beneath

the temple's vaulted dome she took her place,

encompassed by armed men, and lifted high

upon a throne; her statutes and decrees

the people heard, and took what lot or toil

her sentence, or impartial urn, assigned.

But, lo! Aeneas sees among the throng

Antheus, Sergestus, and Cloanthus bold,

with other Teucrians, whom the black storm flung

far o'er the deep and drove on alien shores.

Struck dumb was he, and good Achates too,

half gladness and half fear. Fain would they fly

to friendship's fond embrace; but knowing not

what might befall, their hearts felt doubt and care.

Therefore they kept the secret, and remained

forth-peering from the hollow veil of cloud,

haply to learn what their friends' fate might be,

or where the fleet was landed, or what aim

had brought them hither; for a chosen few

from every ship had come to sue for grace,

and all the temple with their voices rang.

The doors swung wide; and after access given

and leave to speak, revered Ilioneus

with soul serene these lowly words essayed:

“O Queen, who hast authority of Jove

to found this rising city, and subdue

with righteous governance its people proud,

we wretched Trojans, blown from sea to sea,

beseech thy mercy; keep the curse of fire

from our poor ships! We pray thee, do no wrong

unto a guiltless race. But heed our plea!

No Libyan hearth shall suffer by our sword,

nor spoil and plunder to our ships be borne;

such haughty violence fits not the souls

of vanquished men. We journey to a land

named, in Greek syllables, Hesperia :

a storied realm, made mighty by great wars

and wealth of fruitful land; in former days

Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said,

have called it Italy , a chieftain's name

to a whole region given. Thitherward

our ships did fare; but with swift-rising flood

the stormful season of Orion's star

drove us on viewless shoals; and angry gales

dispersed us, smitten by the tumbling surge,

among innavigable rocks. Behold,

we few swam hither, waifs upon your shore!

What race of mortals this? What barbarous land,

that with inhospitable laws ye thrust

a stranger from your coasts, and fly to arms,

nor grant mere foothold on your kingdom's bound?

If man thou scornest and all mortal power,

forget not that the gods watch good and ill!

A king we had; Aeneas,—never man

in all the world more loyal, just and true,

nor mightier in arms! If Heaven decree

his present safety, if he now do breathe

the air of earth and is not buried low

among the dreadful shades, then fear not thou!

For thou wilt never rue that thou wert prompt

to do us the first kindness. O'er the sea

in the Sicilian land, are cities proud,

with martial power, and great Acestes there

is of our Trojan kin. So grant us here

to beach our shattered ships along thy shore,

and from thy forest bring us beam and spar

to mend our broken oars. Then, if perchance

we find once more our comrades and our king,

and forth to Italy once more set sail,

to Italy , our Latin hearth and home,

we will rejoicing go. But if our weal

is clean gone by, and thee, blest chief and sire,

these Libyan waters keep, and if no more

Iulus bids us hope,—then, at the least,

to yon Sicilian seas, to friendly lands

whence hither drifting with the winds we came,

let us retrace the journey and rejoin

good King Acestes.” So Ilioneus

ended his pleading; the Dardanidae

murmured assent.

Then Dido, briefly and with downcast eyes,

her answer made: “O Teucrians, have no fear!

Bid care begone! It was necessity,

and my young kingdom's weakness, which compelled

the policy of force, and made me keep

such vigilant sentry my wide co'ast along.

Aeneas and his people, that fair town

of Troy—who knows them not? The whole world knows

those valorous chiefs and huge, far-flaming wars.

Our Punic hearts are not of substance all

insensible and dull: the god of day

drives not his fire-breathing steeds so far

from this our Tyrian town. If ye would go

to great Hesperia, where Saturn reigned,

or if voluptuous Eryx and the throne

of good Acestes be your journey's end,

I send you safe; I speed you on your way.

But if in these my realms ye will abide,

associates of my power, behold, I build

this city for your own! Choose haven here

for your good ships. Beneath my royal sway

Trojan and Tyrian equal grace will find.

But O, that this same storm had brought your King.

Aeneas, hither! I will bid explore

our Libya 's utmost bound, where haply he

in wilderness or hamlet wanders lost.”

By these fair words to joy profoundly stirred,

Father Aeneas and Achates brave

to cast aside the cloud that wrapped them round

yearned greatly; and Achates to his King

spoke thus: “O goddess-born, in thy wise heart

what purpose rises now? Lo! All is well!

Thy fleet and followers are safe at land.

One only comes not, who before our eyes

sank in the soundless sea. All else fulfils

thy mother's prophecy.” Scarce had he spoke

when suddenly that overmantling cloud

was cloven, and dissolved in lucent air;

forth stood Aeneas. A clear sunbeam smote

his god-like head and shoulders. Venus' son

of his own heavenly mother now received

youth's glowing rose, an eye of joyful fire,

and tresses clustering fair. 'T is even so

the cunning craftsman unto ivory gives

new beauty, or with circlet of bright gold

encloses silver or the Parian stone.

Thus of the Queen he sued, while wonderment

fell on all hearts. “Behold the man ye seek,

for I am here! Aeneas, Trojan-born,

brought safely hither from yon Libyan seas!

O thou who first hast looked with pitying eye

on Troy 's unutterable grief, who even to us

(escaped our Grecian victor, and outworn

by all the perils land and ocean know),

to us, bereft and ruined, dost extend

such welcome to thy kingdom and thy home!

I have no power, Dido, to give thanks

to match thine ample grace; nor is there power

in any remnant of our Dardan blood,

now fled in exile o'er the whole wide world.

May gods on high (if influence divine

bless faithful lives, or recompense be found

in justice and thy self-approving mind)

give thee thy due reward. What age was blest

by such a birth as thine? What parents proud

such offspring bore? O, while the rivers run

to mingle with the sea, while shadows pass

along yon rounded hills from vale to vale,

and while from heaven's unextinguished fire

the stars be fed—so Iong thy glorious name,

thy place illustrious and thy virtue's praise,

abide undimmed.—Yet I myself must go

to lands I know not where.” After this word

his right hand clasped his Ioved Ilioneus,

his left Serestus; then the comrades all,

brave Gyas, brave Cloanthus, and their peers.

Sidonian Dido felt her heart stand still

when first she looked on him; and thrilled again

to hear what vast adventure had befallen

so great a hero. Thus she welcomed him:

“What chance, O goddess-born, o'er danger's path

impels? What power to this wild coast has borne?

Art thou Aeneas, great Anchises' son,

whom lovely Venus by the Phrygian stream

of Simois brought forth unto the day?

Now I bethink me of when Teucer came

to Sidon , exiled, and of Belus' power

desired a second throne. For Belus then,

our worshipped sire, despoiled the teeming land

of Cyprus , as its conqueror and king.

And since that hour I oft have heard the tale

of fallen Troy , of thine own noble name,

and of Achaean kings. Teucer was wont,

although their foe, to praise the Teucrian race,

and boasted him of that proud lineage sprung.

Therefore, behold, our portals are swung wide

for all your company. I also bore

hard fate like thine. I too was driven of storms

and after long toil was allowed at last

to call this land my home. O, I am wise

in sorrow, and I help all suffering souls!”

So saying, she bade Aeneas welcome take

beneath her royal roof, and to the gods

made sacrifice in temples, while she sent

unto the thankful Trojans on the shore

a score of bulls, and of huge, bristling swine,

a herd of a whole hundred, and a flock

of goodly lambs, a hundred, who ran close

beside the mother-ewes: and all were given

in joyful feast to please the Heavenly Powers.

Her palace showed a monarch's fair array

all glittering and proud, and feasts were spread

within the ample court. Rich broideries

hung deep incarnadined with Tyrian skill;

the board had massy silver, gold-embossed,

where gleamed the mighty deeds of all her sires,

a graven chronicle of peace and war

prolonged, since first her ancient line began,

from royal sire to son.

Aeneas now

(for love in his paternal heart spoke loud

and gave no rest) bade swift Achates run

to tell Ascanius all, and from the ship

to guide him upward to the town,—for now

the father's whole heart for Ascanius yearned.

And gifts he bade them bring, which had been saved

in Ilium 's fall: a richly broidered cloak

heavy with golden emblems; and a veil

by leaves of saffron lilies bordered round,

which Argive Helen o'er her beauty threw,

her mother Leda's gift most wonderful,

and which to Troy she bore, when flying far

in lawless wedlock from Mycenae 's towers;

a sceptre, too, once fair Ilione's,

eldest of Priam's daughters; and round pearls

strung in a necklace, and a double crown

of jewels set in gold. These gifts to find,

Achates to the tall ships sped away.

But Cytherea in her heart revolved

new wiles, new schemes: how Cupid should transform

his countenance, and, coming in the guise

of sweet Ascanius, still more inflame

the amorous Queen with gifts, and deeply fuse

through all her yielding frame his fatal fire.

Sooth, Venus feared the many-languaged guile

which Tyrians use; fierce Juno's hate she feared,

and falling night renewed her sleepless care.

Therefore to Love, the light-winged god, she said:

“Sweet son, of whom my sovereignty and power

alone are given! O son, whose smile may scorn

the shafts of Jove whereby the Titans fell,

to thee I fly, and humbly here implore

thy help divine. Behold, from land to land

Aeneas, thine own brother, voyages on

storm-driven, by Juno's causeless enmity.

Thou knowest it well, and oft hast sighed to see

my sighs and tears. Dido the Tyrian now

detains him with soft speeches; and I fear

such courtesy from Juno means us ill;

she is not one who, when the hour is ripe,

bids action pause. I therefore now intend

the Tyrian Queen to snare, and siege her breast

with our invading fire, before some god

shall change her mood. But let her bosom burn

with love of my Aeneas not less than mine.

This thou canst bring to pass. I pray thee hear

the plan I counsel. At his father's call

Ascanius, heir of kings, makes haste to climb

to yon Sidonian citadel; my grace

protects him, and he bears gifts which were saved

from hazard of the sea and burning Troy .

Him lapped in slumber on Cythera 's hill,

or in Idalia's deep and hallowing shade,

myself will hide, lest haply he should learn

our stratagem, and burst in, foiling all.

Wear thou his shape for one brief night thyself,

and let thy boyhood feign another boy's

familiar countenance; when Dido there,

beside the royal feast and flowing wine,

all smiles and joy, shall clasp thee to her breast

while she caresses thee, and her sweet lips

touch close with thine, then let thy secret fire

breathe o'er her heart, to poison and betray.”

The love-god to his mother's dear behest

gave prompt assent. He put his pinions by

and tripped it like Iulus, light of heart.

But Venus o'er Ascanius' body poured

a perfect sleep, and, to her heavenly breast

enfolding him, far, far away upbore

to fair Idalia's grove, where fragrant buds

of softly-petalled marjoram embower

in pleasurable shade.

Cupid straightway

obeyed his mother's word and bore the gifts,

each worthy of a king, as offerings

to greet the Tyrian throne; and as he went

he clasped Achates' friendly hand, and smiled.

Father Aeneas now, and all his band

of Trojan chivalry, at social feast,

on lofty purple-pillowed couches lie;

deft slaves fresh water on their fingers pour,

and from reed-woven basketry renew

the plenteous bread, or bring smooth napery

of softest weave; fifty handmaidens serve,

whose task it is to range in order fair

the varied banquet, or at altars bright

throw balm and incense on the sacred fires.

A hundred more serve with an equal band

of beauteous pages, whose obedient skill