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THE GLOBE EDITION. 
 
 THE 
 
 WORKS OF VIRGIL. 
 
Cambridge: 
 
 PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M. A. 
 AT THE UNIVERSITY PXbSS. 
 
Cfre (globe Cttitfom .. 
 
 THE 
 
 WORKS OF VIRGIL 
 
 RENDERED INTO 
 
 ENGLISH PROSE 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTIONS RUNNING ANALYSIS 
 AND AN INDEX 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES LONSDALE M.A. 
 
 LATE FELLOW AND TUTOR OF BALLIOL COLLEGE OXFORD 
 AND CLASSICAL PROFESSOR IN KINGS COLLEGE LONDON 
 
 AND 
 
 SAMUEL LEE MA. 
 
 LATIN LECTURER AT UNIVERSITY COLLEGE LONDON 
 AND LATE SCHOLAR OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE 
 
 Honiron : 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 1871. 
 
 [All Rights reserved.] 
 
'.o%07 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This translation of Virgil is intended partly for the use of Stu- 
 dents; and the original has therefore been faithfully rendered, and 
 paraphrase altogether avoided. At the same time, the translators 
 have endeavoured to adapt the book to the use of the English 
 reader. Some amount of rhythm in the structure of the sentence 
 has been generally maintained; and, where in the Latin the sound 
 of the words is an echo to the sense, (as so frequently happens in 
 Virgil,) an attempt has been made to produce the same result in 
 English. 
 
 It is indeed no easy task, especially in translating so consum- 
 mate a master of language as Virgil, to present a version at once 
 literal, and also in any measure a reflection of the style of the 
 original. The translators cannot hope that they have attained a 
 high degree of success in a work of so much difficulty; but they 
 trust that they have not altogether failed to convey, though in a 
 literal translation, some faint idea of the many beauties of the lan- 
 guage and style of Virgil. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 General Introduction . 
 
 Introduction to the Eclogues 
 
 The Eclogues 
 
 Introduction to the Georgics 
 
 The Georgics 
 
 Introduction to the Mneid . 
 
 The JExfad . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 i 
 9 
 
 12 
 
 3V 
 
 73 
 
 82 
 
GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 No authentic life of Virgil has come down to us; and Virgil, unlike 
 his friend Horace, is not his own biographer. But what we are told 
 about Virgil's loss of his property near Mantua in the life written by 
 the so-called Donatus is confirmed by the first and ninth Eclogues^ 
 from which it appears that the poet was twice in danger of losing his 
 paternal farm. In the same Eclogues we have descriptions of scenery, 
 which, unlike those in the other Eclogues, appear to be real. Lycidas in 
 the ninth Eclogue says : 
 
 Your country friends are told another tale, 
 That fro vn the sloping mountain to the vale, 
 And doddered oak, and all the banks along, 
 Menalcas saved his fortune with a song — 
 
 which passage describes scenery that Keightley, (quoted by Conington), 
 professes to recognise not far from Mantua. Again, the so-called Donatus 
 tells us that Virgil learnt from Syro the Epicurean tenets, but that he 
 afterwards preferred the opinions of the Academicians, and esteemed 
 Plato above all other philosophers. Now in the first and second books of 
 the Georgics Virgil seems to propound the Epicurean tenets ; in the fourth 
 book of the Georgics and in the sixth book of the ^Eneid he seems to adopt 
 the Pythagorean doctrines, which in many points were the same as those 
 of Plato and his followers. It is said that Virgil at first intended to have 
 published only nine Eclogues, for "unequal numbers please the god," and 
 the nine Eclogues would have answered to the nine Muses, but he added 
 a tenth Eclogue in honour of his dear friend the poet Gallus ; the fourth 
 book of the Georgics also ended with the praises of the same Gallus ; but 
 Gallus falling under the displeasure of Augustus was compelled to put 
 himself to death; and Virgil substituted for the praises of Gallus the 
 unoffending tale of Aristaeus. The story of the shepherd who lost his 
 bees is very heautiful ; but perhaps the tribute to a friend and brother 
 poet might have been more touching. In the concluding lines of the 
 last book of the Georgics, the genuineness of which there seems no suffi- 
 cient reason to doubt, Virgil speaks of his own life during the time that 
 Augustus was in the east after the battle of Actium, as thus spent : ' 
 
 While I at Naples pass my peaceful days, 
 Affecting studies of less noisy praise. 
 
 V1R. I 
 
VIRGIL. 
 
 This also agrees with the old life of the poet, in which we read that 
 he directed that his bones should be taken to Naples, where he had lived 
 so long and so happily. The same life gives a very pleasing account of 
 the poet, mentioning his modest and retiring disposition, his singular 
 freedom from vanity and jealousy, his patient and affectionate temper, 
 his generous liberality, his temperate and frugal habits, his attachment 
 to his friends, his dutiful conduct towards his parents, his learning, his 
 care and fastidiousness in the composition of his verses, his taciturnity, 
 his love of philosophical studies, his intimacy with Augustus and Mae- 
 cenas; much of which may be illustrated from his poems, indirectly 
 it is true, and yet in such a way as to make it probable that the ancient 
 biographer has given in the main a true account of the poet's life and 
 character. In agreement with this are the notices of Virgil by his friend 
 Horace. We cannot help wishing Horace had told us more. Horace 
 was five years younger than Virgil, and outlived him eleven years. An 
 ode by Horace on the death of Virgil might have ranked among the 
 most charming tributes to friendship and genius. Horace has mentioned 
 Virgil nine times ; in six of these places the names of Varius and Virgil 
 are united. There seems to be no certain reason to lead us to conclude 
 that the Virgil in the Odes is a different person from the poet. In one 
 ode Horace prays the gods to bring Virgil safe to the Attic shores, 
 " faithfully guarding the half of my soul." Another ode contains an invi- 
 tation to Virgil to dinner. The allusions in it to his friend's love of gain 
 are probably only playful. The meeting of Virgil and Varius with 
 Horace at Sinuessa gives occasion to a burst of enthusiasm in praise of 
 friendship: "there is nothing," says Horace, "comparable to a pleasant 
 friend; and never were there souls purer and more free from stain 
 than the souls of my friends." From a passage in the same satire we 
 learn that Virgil suffered from indigestion; this also is mentioned in 
 the ancient life. It was the good Virgil and Varius that first told Maece- 
 nas what the character of Horace was ; thus to Virgil and Varius Horace 
 owed the prosperity and happiness of his easy and joyous life. While 
 to Varius Horace ascribes the vigorous and manly epic style, probably 
 in allusion to the lost poem on Death, Virgil he speaks of as dear to the 
 Muses of the country for his elegant and refined poetry, Virgil having 
 at that time not yet written the ^Eneid, perhaps only the Eclogues. 
 Virgil and Varius the poets are spoken of as dear to Augustus; they 
 may have been then dead. In Horace's Art of Poetry the brother poets 
 are mentioned as the highest authority of the age in which they lived, 
 as Caecilius and Plautus were of a former age. 
 
GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The modest Virgil felt the hopes that genius inspires, when he says : 
 New ways I must attempt my grovelling name 
 To raise aloft, and wing my flight to fame. 
 He promises that the affection of Nisus and Euryalus shall not 
 be forgotten so long as the Capitol shall remain unmoved and the 
 Roman empire endure. But he could not have divined what undying 
 fame was to attend his name through all generations, outliving the 
 empire of Rome by many centuries. Propertius and Ovid speak of Virgil 
 with the partial enthusiasm of national pride. We are told that Cascilius 
 the grammarian lectured on Virgil in the poet's lifetime, as professors 
 in Universities do at the present time ; that when he entered the theatre, 
 the spectators rose to him as to Caesar; that though his modesty shrank 
 from observation, the people, as he passed through the streets, spoke of 
 him as the darling of Rome. Juvenal mentions the ^Eneid as recited 
 with the Iliad, the glory of which it rivalled ; the learned ladies wearied 
 their husbands and friends with discussions on Virgil; Horace and Virgil 
 were even then used as school books. Among the many points of Roman 
 life on which the writings of Martial throw light, none is clearer than 
 that in those days Virgil was familiar to all literary men ; his birthday, 
 the 15th of October, was kept as a holyday ; Virgil is ranked with Diana 
 and Mercury. Pliny says that the poet Silius kept the birthday of 
 Virgil more religiously than he did his own, and that he used to visit 
 his sepulchre near Naples, as he would have visited the shrine of a god ; 
 as Niebuhr so many hundred years after, though a very unfavourable 
 critic of Virgil, yet says that he went to his tomb as a pilgrim, and that 
 the laurel branches plucked at the poet's grave were dear to him as 
 relics. The later poets of Rome laboured, though in vain, to equal 
 the matchless rhythm of the Virgilian hexameter. Tacitus was evidently 
 a most diligent student of Virgil; the brevity of the style of the 
 poet, his careful selection of epithets, his inverted constructions, his 
 variety of expression, his fondness for the dative case, his frequent 
 use of what is called Zeugma, of the plural number, of the infinitive 
 mood, his power of painting a scene with few touches, many of his 
 favourite words and expressions, are imitated with great effect by 
 the historian; poet and historian alike dwell on the power of fate; 
 they both at times are exaggerated in their expressions ; they both 
 fully understood the majesty of the Roman tongue and the greatness 
 of the Roman empire ; there is in both of them a sad solemnity, and' a 
 melancholy feeling of the misfortunes of man's uncertain life. At times 
 Tacitus himself becomes a poet almost ; like Virgil, he uses adjectives 
 
4 VIRGIL. 
 
 for adverbs ; he speaks of inanimate objects as having life. Quinctilian 
 repeats what he was taught by Afer Domitius, that if Homer was first, 
 Virgil was second, and nearer to the first than to the third. The same 
 critic calls Virgil a lover of antiquity. Aulus Gellius is full of quotations 
 from Virgil, on some of which he comments at great length after his gos- 
 sipping manner. The desire to destroy Virgil's poems was regarded as 
 one of the wildest extravagances of the madness of the emperor Caligula. 
 Macrobius in his Saturnalia quotes many passages of the early Roman 
 poets, which were borrowed by Virgil ; he is fond of drawing comparisons 
 between the two great epic poets of antiquity, with as strong a preference 
 for the earlier as, many ages after, Scaliger shewed for the later poet. 
 Macrobius speaks of Virgil as introducing philosophy into many parts of 
 his poems. It is probable that the life of Virgil ascribed to Donatus 
 was written about this time. Servius too, about the same time, wrote a 
 commentary on Virgil, deficient in judgment, but full of curious anti- 
 quarian lore, especially interesting in the elucidation of a poet, who 
 displays, as Niebuhr says, a learning from which the historian can never 
 glean too much. This Servius says that Virgil was skilled in medicine 
 and in philosophy. As the Sibylline books were consulted for the indi- 
 cations of the divine will, so the poems of Virgil even in early times were 
 opened at random to obtain directions from them. It is said that the 
 emperor Alexander Severus was encouraged by lighting upon the passage 
 in the sixth book of the ^Eneid which bids the Roman "rule mankind and 
 make the world obey." Dryden says these " Sortes Virgilianae were con- 
 demned by St Austin and other casuists." Perhaps the most famous in- 
 stance is that of the passage in the fourth book of the ^Eneid ; which it 
 is said King Charles I. opened, and which runs as follows : 
 
 And when at length the cruel war shall cease, 
 On hard conditions may he buy the peace; 
 Nor let him then enjoy supreme command, 
 But fall untimely by some hostile ha7id. 
 
 St Jerome and St Augustine speak of Virgil as a philosopher. Some of 
 the fathers regarded the fourth Eclogue as a prophecy of the Messiah 
 taken from the ancient writings of the Cumean Sibyl ; and it was said 
 that St Paul coming to Naples wept over the ashes of the heathen poet, 
 grieving that he came too late to convert him to the faith of Christ. 
 
 Gradually the poet of the days of Augustus was changed into a ma- 
 gician, sometimes capricious, but usually benevolent. As we have seen, 
 some of the ancients regarded him as a famous mathematician and phy- | 
 
GENERAL INTRODUCTION'. 
 
 sician ; his grandfather is called magus ; he is said to have studied astro- 
 nomy and astrology. The word "vates" in Latin is ambiguous. The 
 emperor Alexander Severus had his image in the shrine of his house, to- 
 gether with the statues of his household gods ; the women of Mantua 
 worshipped at a tree sacred to their beloved poet, as at an altar, and in 
 later days his name was joined in their praises with that of St Paul. In 
 the middle ages 1 all that was extraordinary was regarded as strictly 
 supernatural; and the imagination of the writers of these days added 
 strange tales, which popular belief readily accepted. Virgil was born not 
 at the close of the republic, but in the days of Remus, the son of Remus, 
 the brother of Romulus ; enraged at a slight he received from a certain 
 lady of Rome he put out all the fires in the houses of the city, which 
 . could not be kindled again, till the great magician had received an apo- 
 logy ; he built a wonderful palace, so constructed that all that was whis- 
 pered at Rome was heard there ; in it was a miraculous image of bronze, 
 and a light that continued to burn long after the Roman empire had 
 passed away; he made an orchard which rivalled Paradise, which no 
 man could enter, wherein were all kinds of fruits ; he married the daugh- 
 ter of the Soldan of Babylon, who visited her husband, and was visited 
 by him, travelling along a bridge of air; when he was taken once at Ba- 
 bylon by the enraged father, and condemned to be burnt together with 
 his wife who refused to abandon him, he made all the barons of Babylon 
 swim like frogs in the market-place of the city, which appeared to their 
 imagination to be filled with the river, while he and his beautiful wife 
 escaped to the land of the Franks along the bridge of air. Afterwards 
 he founded the city of Naples on an Qgg, miraculously defeated the as- 
 saults of the emperor of Rome, made a wondrous serpent of bronze, which 
 by instantaneous punishment convicted the perjurer of his guilt; at last, 
 like Romulus, he disappeared amidst a tempest of wind, leaving behind 
 him treasures protected by guards of bronze. These and other similar 
 tales are told of Virgil with sundry variations. We find him in what we 
 should now call strange company, for he is joined with Aristotle, Euclid, 
 Hippocrates, Samson, David, Solomon, King Arthur. Apart from his 
 fame as a magician, he had a place in the schools of the middle ages. 
 St Augustine had recommended his works, and styled him the first and 
 noblest of poets ; St Jerome, on the other hand, condemned the admi- 
 
 1 Quae vices, quseque mutationes et Virgilium ipsum et ejus carmina per me- 
 diam aetatem exceperunt explanare tentavit Franciscus Michel. Lutetise Parisiorum 
 ex typis Maulde et Renon, 1846. 
 
VIRGIL. 
 
 ration of Terence and Virgil. In agreement with this it appears that 
 throughout the middle ages many of the abbots and teachers condemn 
 him, while others quote him with praise. Copies of his works were kept 
 in the monasteries; the Benedictine monks of Casino studied them; in 
 the abbey of St Augustine at Canterbury were MSS. of his poems : yet, 
 on the other hand, the study of the heathen poet is represented as anta- 
 gonistic to that of the Psalms, and as even encouraged by the evil spirits 
 of darkness. Considering the place Virgil held in the schools of the mid- 
 dle ages (for the favourable view of the"" poet was the predominant one) 
 and the popular belief in his supernatural powers, it is not to be wondered 
 at that Dante should have chosen him as his guide into the other world. 
 In the days of Dante Greek was almost entirely unknown, and if it had 
 been better known, and Dante had read Homer, yet the description of 
 the dead in the Odyssey is vague and indefinite : and properly speaking 
 there is no descent into the lower world at all. But Virgil, assisted by 
 later and fuller legends and by the writings of the philosophers, far sur- 
 passes his master in this subject; his description of the regions of the 
 dead is full of details ; in places it has the grotesque character, the exact 
 measurements, and precise delineations, though in a much less degree, of 
 the poem of the middle ages. The sixth book of the -#meid probably in 
 part suggested the idea of the descent to Dante, which was afterwards filled 
 out from other sources, and from the imaginations of a genius essentially 
 different from that of his adopted guide. Again, Virgil was a familiar 
 name. He was the predecessor of Dante in Italian poetry. He was his 
 dear master, from whom he had taken that fine style which gave him 
 his name. Both poets came from the northern part of Italy. The Ghi- 
 belline Dante might regard the Imperialist Virgil as so far connected 
 with him. Still more would Dante be glad to place himself under the 
 guidance of the poet, as that " famous sage," reckoned, as we have seen, 
 with Aristotle and Plato, and as one who by his knowledge of magic 
 and necromancy was acquainted with the secrets of the spiritual world. 
 
 Gradually and slowly did the opinion of Virgil, as a magician, give 
 way : it is even said that the expedition of the French to Naples so late 
 as the year 1494 spread the fame of Virgil as a great magician. But the 
 first person who appears to have questioned the accuracy of the popular 
 belief had been Petrarch : who said that the only fascination exercised by 
 Virgil was that of his poetry. Long after, about the year 1630, Gabriel 
 Naude wrote "an apology for the great men who have been accused of 
 magic," and amongst them for Virgil. After this time the opinion seems 
 to have died out. Other strange opinions were held. Tasso, who had 
 
GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 imbibed a love of allegory from the study of Plato, regarded the ^Eneid 
 as a continued allegory, as he did his own poem. The hero -^Eneas re- 
 presented sometimes the active, sometimes the contemplative life. Har- 
 douin, a learned French Jesuit, maintained that almost all the writings 
 that bear the names of Greek and Latin authors are spurious productions, 
 written chiefly in the thirteenth century, excepting only some inscriptions. 
 And yet he did admit the Eclogues and Georgics as genuine ; but he con- 
 sidered the yEneid to have been written by mediaeval monks. 
 To the editions of Virgil we may apply his own words, 
 
 Which who would learn as soon might tell the sands 
 Driven by the western winds on Libyan lands. 
 
 Heyne has given an account of these editions. Since the first edition at 
 Rome in the year 1469 there has not, Heyne says, been a year in which 
 there has not been at least one edition of Virgil. Servius' commentary 
 was first edited in 147 1. N. Heinsius' edition of the poet appeared in 
 1676, "a noble edition," says Heyne, "from which at last a brighter light 
 shone on Maro." The Delphin edition, by Charles de la Rue the Jesuit 
 (Ruaeus), did perhaps more than any other single edition has done to ad- 
 vance the study of Virgil. Other names are well known in connection 
 with Virgil, as those of Burmann, Martin, Maittaire, Baskerville, Heyne, 
 Wagner, Forbiger, Keightley, Conington, and Gossrau, whose Latin com- 
 mentary on the ^Eneid is remarkable for accurate, clear, and sensible 
 criticism. 
 
 The influence of Virgil on modern poets has perhaps been greater than 
 that of any other single poet of antiquity. We may mention a few instances 
 out of very many. Garcilaso de la Vega imitated the Eclogues. The 
 Aminta of Tasso owes much to the same source. The Bees of Rucellai 
 follows the fourth book of the Georgics. Thomson, in his Seasons, has put 
 into an English dress many of the passages of the Georgics. Many stanzas 
 of Tasso's chief poem are little else than elegant, but often rather feeble 
 translations of the yEneid. It is probable that Racine owed the exquisite 
 grace of his style to the study of the Latin poet. Milton, though his 
 genius was far more nearly related to the stern sublimity of the Hebrew 
 prophets than to the refinement of the Roman bard, yet has not disdained 
 to draw many beauties from particular passages of Virgil. The Lusiad 
 of Camoens is much indebted to Virgil. The He7iriade is not without 
 imitations from the poet, whose writings, together with the sermons of 
 Massillon, are said to have been Voltaire's favourite companions. 
 
 If the influence of Virgil on other poets has been great, his influence 
 
S VIRGIL. 
 
 on education has been far greater. There seems never to have been any- 
 time since his poems were written, in which they have not been so used. 
 In ancient Rome, in the middle ages, in the schools of the Jesuits, in 
 those of Europe in the present day, nowhere more than among us 
 Britons, 
 
 A race of men from all the world disjoined, 
 
 the study of Virgil has held and holds a prominent place. The union of 
 Horace and Virgil, begun in their youth, has extended beyond the few 
 years of their lives through many generations. A few scholars have no 
 doubt preferred Catullus to Horace, and Lucretius to Virgil, esteeming 
 the earlier poets as writers of a more free and original genius ; but the 
 great majority of readers regard Virgil as the prince of Latin poets, 
 while for Horace they have almost a personal affection. If the writings 
 of these two friends had been lost, it is probable that Latin had never 
 been made the basis of education in the schools of Europe. Virgil's ex- 
 quisite taste, his brevity of diction, the matchless rhythm of his verse, his 
 power of putting the right word in the right place, his very difficulties 
 and obscurities, all unite in making his writings an excellent school book. 
 What has been well said by Lord Lytton of Horace may be said almost, 
 perhaps not quite so truly, of Virgil : " It is an era in the life of a school- 
 boy, when he first becomes acquainted with Horace." When the days of 
 school are past men return with fondness to their favourite passages of 
 Virgil. The cadence of his verse still haunts the ear. It has been said 
 that men like Virgil better as they grow older. Few authors are more 
 often alluded to. A happy quotation from and adaptation of Virgil have 
 weight even in serious questions and in august assemblies. Criticism can 
 point out innumerable faults in Virgil, but criticism is as powerless 
 against the poet as the sword of the mortal hero against the immortal 
 temper of the Vulcanian shield: and what Macrobius said so many years 
 ago is still true : " Such is the glory of Maro, that no man's praise can 
 increase it, no man's censure can diminish it." 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE ECLOGUES. 
 
 Virgil is the founder of the artificial school of pastoral poetry. And 
 so, though he has taken very much from Theocritus, though he not only 
 borrows from him the design of several of the Eclogues, but even trans- 
 lates many of his phrases literally, yet there is this one great difference 
 between the two poets. Theocritus is a genuine writer of pastoral poetry ; 
 his whole object is to describe poetically the characteristics of a shep- 
 herd's life, its simple joys and griefs, its coarseness, and humour, and 
 childishness, and superstition. But of Virgil's Eclogues only a very 
 few can be called pastoral in this literal sense ; and even these contain 
 frequent allusions to the persons and events of Virgil's own age. Indeed, 
 the dress of pastoral poetry is often used by Virgil, as it has been by so 
 many imitators in later times, only to disguise his own personality, and 
 to clothe in poetic allegory incidents in his own life, or circumstances 
 of his own day. 
 
 If we examine the Eclogues one by one, we find that the first tells the 
 story of an event in the life of Virgil. The triumvirs had made an 
 assignment of lands in the north of Italy to their veterans, and the poet's 
 farm near Mantua had been seized by one of the soldiers as his allotment. 
 Virgil recovered his land by the influence of Octavianus (afterwards the 
 emperor Augustus), and this Eclogue is mainly a tribute of gratitude to 
 his patron. It has many points highly characteristic of the artificial style 
 of the Eclogues, and of Virgil's disregard for consistency in the accesso- 
 ries of his pieces. Tityrus (Virgil) at one time looks to Octavianus as a 
 divine guardian, to protect him in the possession of his land, at another 
 as a master, from whom he begs for freedom from slavery. The scenery 
 too, in this Eclogue as in several others, entirely wants uniformity; at 
 one time it is Mantuan, at another Sicilian. In fact, the whole outline of 
 the Eclogues is painted in a manner that is more or less conventional, and 
 not drawn directly from nature. 
 
 The second and third Eclogues are closely imitated from Theocritus, 
 and yet distinctly marked by the peculiar style of Virgil. 
 
 The subject of the fourth Eclogue has made it better known than all 
 the rest, though it hardly stands first in intrinsic merit. It was written, 
 as we learn from the poem itself, in the consulship of Pollio, B.C. 40, and 
 about the time of the peace of Brundisium. The poet imagines that the 
 cycle of the "great year" of the world is beginning anew, and the golden 
 age returning. But the principal event celebrated in the poem is the 
 birth of a wondrous child, who is to be king of the world in this age of 
 peace. The language employed is very vague and indefinite, but it seems 
 more probable that the child is to be the son of Octavianus (who had 
 lately been married to Scribonia), rather than of Pollio, whose chief glory 
 would appear to consist in the fact that the child is to be born in his con- 
 sulship. But the Eclogue is best known on account of the resemblance of 
 
IO VIRGIL. 
 
 its language in some passages to descriptions in the Hebrew prophets, 
 especially Isaiah ; and from the idea that the Sibylline books contained 
 predictions of a coming Messiah, also derived originally from the prophe- 
 cies of the Old Testament. But the vague looking forward to a golden 
 age in the future has been hardly less universal than the dream of it in 
 the past ; and though the language used in describing the birth and 
 career of the child, who is to be the universal king, is certainly sometimes 
 striking, and though it is remarkable that the poem was written at a time 
 so near the birth of Christ, yet there seems no sufficient reason to 
 connect the legends employed by Virgil with the prophecies of the Old 
 Testament. For the idea of the advent of a great and beneficent ruler of 
 the world has been hardly less wide-spread than that of the coming of an 
 age of peace ; so that, on the whole, it is perhaps going too far to attach 
 much weight to the points of resemblance which have been mentioned. 
 
 The fifth Eclogue, which probably surpasses all the others in excel- 
 lence, is modelled in its. plan on Theocritus, but much of its finest poetry 
 may fairly claim to be original. There can be little doubt of the correct- 
 ness of the old notion, which supposes the death and apotheosis of 
 Daphnis, the ideal shepherd, to represent allegorically the assassination of 
 Julius Caesar, and the honours paid to him after death. Several passages 
 in this poem are imitated in Milton's Lycidas, in Spenser's Lament for 
 Dido, and by other modern writers. 
 
 The immediate source whence Virgil derived the subject of the sixth 
 Eclogue is doubtful ; but the introduction to the song of Silenus bears a 
 general likeness to the story of the binding of Proteus by Menelaus, in 
 the fourth book of the Odyssey, which Virgil has himself imitated in the 
 fourth Georgia The Epicurean account of the creation of the world is 
 evidently modelled on that given by Lucretius. 
 
 The plan of the seventh Eclogue is similar to that of the third. 
 
 The incidents of the eighth are mainly adapted from Theocritus, but 
 the arrangement is different, and much of the poetry is apparently origi- 
 nal. It is entitled "The Enchantress" (Pharmaceutria), from the subject 
 of the second of the two songs. 
 
 The ninth tells of the difficulty experienced by Virgil (Menalcas) in 
 regaining possession of his farm, and how his life was threatened by the 
 soldier who had seized upon the land. Virgil, it seems, has gone to Rome 
 a second time, to seek the protection of Augustus ; and his successful 
 return is hoped for in the last line of the poem. 
 
 Virgil wrote his last Eclogue in honour of his friend Cornelius Gallus, 
 whose love-complaint forms the subject and greater part of the poem. 
 Nothing is known with any certainty as to the occasion on which this 
 Eclogue was written. Its framework is borrowed from the first Idyll of 
 Theocritus. 
 
 Though it is impossible to look upon Virgil as a writer of genuine 
 pastoral poetry, yet the Eclogues abound in excellence, and in beauties of 
 description and style. Virgil was in truth naturally unfitted to be a 
 pastoral poet ; the flow of his hexameter in the Eclogues is hardly less 
 heroic than in the vEneid; and he everywhere treats his subject with a 
 certain dignity and grandeur, which is quite at variance with rustic 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE ECLOGUES. 
 
 II 
 
 simplicity and rudeness. He now and then, by the introduction of a 
 coarse or antiquated expression, makes some attempt to give a rural 
 colouring to his descriptions ; but this only serves to mark more strongly 
 the general refinement of his tone. But he excels in pathos and tender- 
 ness, as in the first Eclogue ; in splendour of language and elevation of 
 style, as in the fourth and fifth ; in touches of natural description, and in 
 dramatic power, as in the first, eighth, and tenth ; and everywhere in the 
 beauty of his rhythm, and marvellous power over words. 
 
 In originality of style, in artistic subtleness of phrase, in skilfully 
 varied music of verse, and in highly wrought and complex beauty of 
 workmanship, he has probably never yet been matched ; and though 
 there is some ground for the charge of plagiarism, which again and 
 again has been brought against Virgil, yet it must surely be allowed 
 that he almost always makes what he borrows fairly his own, by his pe- 
 culiar style, by additional touches, by giving phrases and metaphors 
 a new setting, as it were, which imparts fresh brightness to their former 
 beauty. 
 
 The Eclogues have been imitated more or less by a multitude of 
 poets of various times and nations. In Virgil's own country, by the later 
 pastoral poets of Rome, Nemesianus, Calpurnius, and others, none of 
 whom reached to excellence, except in a few passages of their works ; 
 and in the Aminta of Tasso, and the Pastor Fido of Guarini. In Spain, 
 Garcilaso de la Vega is the most meritorious of those who have imitated 
 the Eclogues at second-hand, as followers of the Italian school of pasto- 
 ral. In France, Florian has modelled his Pastorals on the pattern of 
 Virgil. Among English poets, Spenser, Milton, Drayton, Drummond, 
 Pope, Shenstone, Phillips and Gay have in different degrees taken 
 Virgil for their master in pastoral poetry. Most of these may be with 
 good reason accused of that unreality which has so persistently been 
 imputed to Virgil ; and very few of them at all approach the excellence 
 of their original ; though one or two passages in Milton's Lycidas per- 
 haps surpass in beauty the lines of Virgil on which they are based ; and 
 the poems of Guarini, Tasso, Spenser, and a few others, have peculiar 
 merits and beauties of their own. The Gentle Shepherd of Allan Ramsay, 
 though it sometimes contains ideas which seem borrowed from Virgil, 
 certainly owes him but little, and may undoubtedly claim to belong to the 
 genuine school of natural pastoral poetry. 
 
 It must be allowed that the branch of the pastoral of which Virgil was 
 the founder has fairly been charged with the fault of unreality. And 
 much of the modern pastoral has other and worse blemishes than this : 
 false sentiment, useless ornament, coldness, dulness, and prolixity. But it 
 would be indeed unreasonable to accuse Virgil of any one of these latter 
 defects. The Eclogues will always be read with delight and admiration, 
 for their own peculiar charm and sweetness ; and if the first place as the 
 bard of the country must be yielded to Theocritus, yet, in that region ot 
 rural poetry which he has chosen for himself, Virgil is still without an 
 equal. 
 
[I.I- 
 
 ECLOGUE I. 
 
 I — 1 8. Melib mis, forced to leave his farm, wonders to see Tilyrus in 
 ease and safety. Tityrus tells him that one whom he shall always 
 regard as a god has been his benefactor. Meliboeus asks him who 
 this benefactor is. 
 
 M. Tityrus, you, reclining beneath the canopy of your spreading 
 beech, on slender pipe practise your woodland lay ; we leave our country's 
 bounds and pleasant fields ; we flee our native country ; you, Tityrus, at 
 ease within the shade, teach the woods to echo back the name of your fair 
 Amaryllis. 
 
 T. O Melibceus, 'twas a god that wrought for us this repose. For 
 he shall ever be to me a god ; his altar a tender lamb from our folds shall 
 often stain with blood. He it was who made my oxen free to range, as 
 ycu behold, and myself to play the sportive songs I chose upon my 
 rustic flute. 
 
 M. In sooth I feel not envy, but rather surprise : on all sides over all 
 the fields the confusion is so complete. See, I myself wearily drive my 
 she-goats on their way ; and this one, Tityrus, I scarce can lead along. 
 For here among the tangled hazel bushes she just now left with the pangs 
 of labour her twin offspring, the hope of the flock, alas ! on the bare flint- 
 stones. Ofttimes, if my sense had not been blinded, I remember that 
 oaks blasted from heaven foretold me this distress. But yet let me 
 know, Tityrus, who is that god you speak of. 
 
 19 — 45. In answer to Melibceus, Tityrus tells the cause of his visit to 
 Rome, and how he received his freedom from Octavianus. 
 
 T. The city which they call Rome, Melibceus, I in my folly had 
 thought like this town of ours, whither we shepherds are often wont to 
 drive in the tender young of our sheep. So I knew that dogs resembled 
 puppies, and kids their dams, so I used to compare great things with 
 small. But this city exalts her head among all other towns, as high as 
 cypresses are wont to tower among the bending osiers. 
 
 M. And what was the pressing cause that took you to see Rome ? 
 
 T. Freedom ; who, though late, yet smiled upon my slothful self, when 
 my beard had begun to fall in whitening locks beneath the barber's hand ; 
 yet she smiled upon me, and came after a long time, since Amaryllis has 
 been my mistress, and Galatea forsaken me. For I must in truth confess 
 that so long as Galatea was my charmer, I had no hope of freedom, and 
 no care to hoard my savings ; though many and many a victim went forth 
 from the fences of my fold, and rich the cheese that was pressed for the 
 thankless town, not once did my hand come back home heavy with its 
 load of coin. 
 
 M. I used to marvel why your Amaryllis would mournfully invoke the 
 gods, and for whom she suffered the fruit to hang upon its tree : Tityrus 
 was far away. Even the pine-trees, Tityrus, even the fountains, even 
 these vineyards used to call you home. 
 
 T. What was I to do? It was not in my power either to escape from 
 servitude, or elsewhere to discover gods so strong to help me. 'Twas here 
 
II. 8.] THE ECLOGUES, 13 
 
 I saw that youth, Melibceus, for whom twelve days a year our altars 
 smoke; 'twas here he first bestowed an answer to my prayer: "Ye swains, 
 feed as of yore the oxen ; rear the bulls." 
 
 46 — 63. Melibceus congratulates Tityrus on the happiness of his lot. 
 Tityrus declares his deep thankfulness to his benefactor. 
 
 M. O blest old man, your fields will then be still your own, and large 
 enough for you, albeit all the farm bare stone o'erspreads, and marshy 
 ground with muddy sedge chokes up your pasture-land. Strange herbage 
 will not vex your teeming flocks, nor the baneful infection of a neighbouring 
 herd do them harm. O blest old man, here among familiar streams and 
 hallowed springs you will court the coolness of the shade ! From yonder 
 neighbour-bound the hedge, whose willow bloom is quaffed by Hybla's 
 bees, will ofttimes, as it has done ever, with gentle hum invite the approach 
 of sleep ; yonder, beneath the lofty rock, the pruner will raise his song to 
 heaven : nor yet meanwhile will cease the hoarse note of the wood- 
 pigeons you love, nor from the towering elm the turtle-dove's complaint. 
 
 T. So first in air the nimble stags shall feed, and the seas leave the 
 fish uncovered on the beach, first the Parthian and the German shall both 
 o'erpass their bounds, and drink in exile the Arar and the Tigris, ere from 
 my heart his look shall pass away. 
 
 64 — 83. Melibceus deplores his banishment, and the ruin of his farm. 
 Tityrus invites him to stay for this night at least. 
 
 M. But we shall go away, some to thirsty Africa, some to Scythia, 
 and the rushing stream of Cretan Oaxes, and to the Britons sundered 
 quite from all the world. Ah ! shall I e'er, in time far off, viewing my 
 native fields, and humble cabin's turf-built roof, my own domain, hereafter 
 see it with amazement nought but some few ears of corn? Shall a 
 sacrilegious soldier hold this soil that I have tilled so well ? a barbarian 
 these cornfields? See to what a depth of woe discord has drawn down 
 our hapless citizens ! 'Twas for these we sowed our fields ! Now, 
 Melibceus, graft the pears, plant the vines in rows. Go then, go my 
 she-goats, that were a fortunate herd. Never again shall I, stretched 
 within a green grot, see you afar hanging from a bushy crag : no more 
 songs shall I sing ; no more tended by me, my goats, will you browse on 
 flowery lucerne and bitter willow plants. 
 
 T. Yet here this night with me you might repose on fresh leaves ; we have 
 mellow apples, soft chesnuts, and a wealth of curded milk : and now yon 
 cottage-roofs begin to smoke, and from the hill-tops larger shadows fall. 
 
 ECLOGUE II. 
 
 1 — 18. Corydon 7 s hopeless love. He co??iplai7is that he is distracted while. 
 
 all the world is at rest; and warns Alexis not to presume too much 
 
 on his beauty. 
 
 Corydon the shepherd deeply loved the fair Alexis, his master's choice, 
 and found no place for hope : nought could he do but again and again 
 come to wander among the clumps of beech with shadowy tops ; there 
 with bootless passion he used to pour to hills and woods this artless 
 moan : " Cruel Alexis, care you nothing for my lays? Have you no pity 
 at all for me? You will force me at last to die. Now even the cattle woo 
 
14 VIRGIL. [II. 9- 
 
 the coolness of the shade ; now even the green lizards are hidden close 
 in thorny brakes ; and Thestylis is bruising for the reapers o'erspent by 
 the scorching heat garlic and wild thyme, savoury herbs. But to keep 
 me company, while I trace your footsteps, beneath the burning sun the 
 copses are loud with the creaking cicalas. Was it not easier to endure 
 the dread wrath of Amaryllis, and her proud disdain? Was it not easier 
 to endure the scorn of Menalcas, albeit he was dark, and you are fair? 
 
 beauteous boy, trust not too far your bloom ! White privet flowers are 
 left to fall, dusk hyacinths are plucked." 
 
 19 — 55. Cory don boasts of his wealth, accomplishments, and co?neliness. 
 He talks of the presents he designs for Alexis, and says the nymphs 
 are making nosegays for him. 
 
 I am your scorn, Alexis, and you ask not who I am, how rich in kine, 
 how wealthy in snow-white milk : a thousand lambs of mine wander on 
 the hills of Sicily ; new milk fails me not in summer heat or winter cold. 
 
 1 sing the songs which, whenever he called home his herds, Amphion of 
 Dirce used to sing on Attic Aracynth. I am not so passing uncomely; 
 lately I saw myself on the beach, whilst the winds allowed the sea to 
 rest in calm; I would not fear Daphnis, in your judgment, if the reflected 
 image ne'er deceives. O that you would but please with me to live in 
 homely fields and lowly cots, and pierce the stags, and drive the herd of 
 kids to the green hibiscus ! Along with me you will in the woods rival 
 Pan in song. ; Twas Pan that first devised the art to join with wax many 
 a reed ; Pan guards the flocks and the masters of the flocks as well. And 
 let it not displease you with the pipe to gall your lip ; to know this same 
 accomplishment what would not- Amyntas have done? A flute is mine, 
 neatly fashioned with seven unequal hemlock stalks, which Damcetas 
 once gave me as a present, and dying said, " That flute has now for its 
 master you, second to me alone." So spoke Damcetas : envious was the 
 foolish Amyntas. Besides, two young roes, that I found in a dell by no 
 means safe to reach, whose coats are still spotted with white, drain the 
 udders of a ewe twice every day ; these I am keeping for you. Long has 
 Thestylis been striving by intreaties to draw them from me ; and so she 
 shall, since in your eyes my gifts are vile. Hither come, fair youth; lo 
 for you the nymphs bring baskets filled with lilies ; for you the beauteous 
 Naiad, plucking pale violets and poppy-heads, blends the narcissus and 
 the flower of fragrant dill ; next, with yellow marigold she sets off the 
 pliant hyacinth, twining it with casia and other scented herbs. I myself 
 will cull the quinces with hoary delicate bloom, and. the chesnuts that my 
 Amaryllis used to love ; I will add plums of waxen hue ; this fruit too 
 shall have its honour ; and you, O laurels, I will gather, and myrtle, you, 
 the laurel's mate ; for thus arranged you mix your odours sweet. 
 
 56 — 73- Corydon feels his gifts must be unavailing; yet, to conciliate 
 
 Alexis, he extols the country. He deplores his endless passion. At 
 
 last he sees his madness, and resolves to go back to his neglected work, 
 
 trusting to find another love. 
 
 You are but a clown, Corydon; and Alexis cares not for gifts; nor 
 
 would Iollas yield to you, should you in gifts attempt to match him. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! what have I meant to do to my hapless self? Lost as I am, 
 
III. 29.] THE ECLOGUES. 15 
 
 I have let in the south wind on my flowers, and wild boars to my crystal 
 springs. Whom flee you, O blinded one ? The gods too have dwelt 
 in the woods, and Dardan Paris. Let Pallas by herself haunt the citadels 
 she has built; above aught else, let woods be dear to me. The grim 
 lioness pursues the wolf; the wolf in his turn the goat; the wanton goat 
 pursues the flowery lucerne ; you, Alexis, Corydon pursues ; each one is 
 attracted by his own delight. See, the bullocks bring home the plough 
 that hangs from the yoke, and the parting sun doubles the growing 
 shades ; yet me love burns ; for what bound is set to love? Ah, Corydon, 
 Corydon, what frenzy has seized you? Your vine, half-pruned, hangs on 
 its leafy elm. Rather, do at least set yourself to weave of osiers and 
 pliant rushes some one of the things of which you have actual need. If 
 this one scorns you, you will find another Alexis. 
 
 ECLOGUE III. 
 
 1 — 31. The Eclogue opens with the quarrelsome conversation of two 
 shepherds, Menalcas and Damoetas. At last, in reply to a taunt 
 
 from Menalcas, Damoetas challenges hi7n to a singing-?natch. 
 
 M. Tell me, Damcetas, whose flock is that ? Does it belong to 
 Melibceus ? 
 
 D. No, but to ^Egon ; ^Egon of late entrusted it to me. 
 
 M, O ye sheep, a flock ill-fated ever ! While the master pays his 
 court to Nesera, and fears she may prefer me to himself, this hireling 
 keeper milks the ewes twice in the hour ; and fatness is filched from the 
 sheep, and milk from the lambs. 
 
 D. Yet be careful to fling those taunts more sparingly at men. We 
 know your story too, when the he-goats looked askance, and in what 
 chapel it was ; but the easy-tempered nymphs laughed. 
 
 M. It was then, I suppose, when they saw me with malicious knife lop 
 Mico's vineyard-trees and tender vines. 
 
 D. Or when here beside the old beeches you broke the bow and 
 arrows of Daphnis ; for you not only felt pain at the sight, when you saw 
 them given to the boy, you spiteful Menalcas, but also you would have 
 died, had you not done him some harm. 
 
 M. What would the masters do, when their knaves are so audacious ? 
 Did I not see you, worst of men, catch by craft Damon's goat, while all 
 the time his mongrel barked ? And when I cried, " What is that rogue 
 pouncing at now? Tityrus, drive the flock together;" you lay hid behind 
 the sedge. 
 
 D. Ought he not, as he was vanquished in singing, to have given up to 
 me the goat, which the melodies of my pipe had won ? If you know it 
 not, that goat was mine ; and Damon himself confessed it to me ; but 
 said he could not give it me. 
 
 M. You in song beat him ? Why, did you ever own a pipe cemented 
 with wax ? Used you not in the streets, you dunce, on a creaking reed to 
 murder your sorry lay ? 
 
 D. Will you then that one against the other we prove in turn what 
 each can do ? I, (lest perchance you try to retreat) lay this heifer ; twice 
 
1 6 VIRGIL. III. 30— 
 
 she comes to the milking pail, two calves her udder feeds : say you, with 
 what stake you will make a match with me. 
 
 32 — 59. After a dispute about the stake each is to lay, the shepherds 
 agree to make Palaemon, a passer by, the judge of their singing. He 
 bids them compete.in alternate couplets. 
 ■ M. I would not venture to lay with you any stake taken from the 
 flock ; for I have at home a father ; I have an unkind stepmother ; and 
 twice a day both count the flock, and one of them the kids as well. But 
 since it is your pleasure to play the madman, I will lay a pawn which 
 you will yourself allow to be far greater than your own, — beechen cups, 
 the carved work of divine Alcimedon ; where a streaming vine, engraved 
 thereon by the cunning knife of the carver, mantles the straggling clusters 
 
 of the pale-green ivy. In the midst are two 'figures, Conon, and who 
 
 was the other, that with his wand marked out for the nations all the 
 sphere of heaven, what seasons the reaper, what the bending plough- 
 man was to own ? And not yet have I applied them to my lips, but keep 
 them treasured up. 
 
 D. For me too that same Alcimedon wrought two cups, and clasped 
 the handles round with twining acanthus, and in the midst set Orpheus 
 and his train of woods. And not yet have I applied them to my lips, but 
 keep them treasured up. If you look at the heifer, you have no ground 
 for praising the cups. 
 
 M. You shall never escape to-day ; I will come whithersoever you call 
 me. Only let this match be heard by , or by him who is approach- 
 ing ; see, Palaemon. I will cause you never hereafter to challenge any 
 man in song. 
 
 D. Well, come, if aught you can ; no delay shall be owing to me, and 
 I shrink not from any judge ; only, neighbour Palaemon, store up these 
 verses in your inmost soul, for the business is not slight. 
 
 P. Sing ye, since we are seated on the velvet grass. And now each 
 field, now every tree buds forth; now the woods break into leaf, now 
 fairest is the year. Begin Damcetas ; then follow you, Menalcas. You 
 shall sing in turn ; to sing in turn the Muses love. 
 
 60 — in. The shepherds repeat alternate couplets, the second always 
 being on a subject similar to that of the first, or forming an antithesis 
 to it. Palaemon praises both the singers, and confesses that he cannot 
 decide between them. 
 
 D. From Jove is my beginning, ye Muses ; all things are full of Jove ; 
 'tis he who makes fruitful the earth, 'tis he who is the patron of my lays. 
 
 M. And me Phoebus loves ; ever with me are the offerings proper to 
 Phcebus, bays and sweetly-blushing hyacinth. 
 
 D. Galatea pelts me with an apple, the playful girl, and runs away to 
 the willow-copse, and desires to be seen first. 
 
 M. But Amyntas, the object of my love, uncalled presents himself to 
 me ; so that now not even Delia is better known to my dogs. 
 
 D. I have found out presents for my fair one ; for I have marked the 
 spot, where the wood-pigeons high in air have built their nest. 
 
 M. I have sent to the youth ('twas all I could do) ten golden apples 
 picked from a forest tree ; to-morrow I will send as many more. 
 
III. in.] THE ECLOGUES. 17 
 
 D. Oh, how many and how sweet are the words Galatea has spoken to 
 me ! Some part of them, ye winds, waft to the ears of the gods ! 
 
 M. What boots it, Amyntas, that in your own heart you scorn me not, 
 if, while you hunt the boars, I watch the nets ? 
 
 D. Send Phyllis to me ; it is my birthday, Iollas : when I sacrifice a 
 heifer on behalf of my crops, come yourself. 
 
 M. Phyllis I love beyond all other maids ; for she wept that I parted 
 from her, and still she said "Adieu, adieu, my fair Iollas." 
 
 D. Dreadful is the wolf to the stalls, showers to the ripened crops, 
 winds to the trees, the wrath of Amaryllis to me. 
 
 M. Sweet is rain to the new-sown corn, the arbutus to weaned kids, 
 the bending willow to the teeming herd, Amyntas alone to me. 
 
 D. Pollio loves my verse, all rustic though it be ; a heifer, my Muses, 
 for your reader feed. 
 
 M. Pollio himself too makes new lays: feed for him a bull that is 
 beginning to butt with his horn, and spurn with his feet the sand. 
 
 D. Let him who loves you, Pollio, attain the bliss he joys to see in 
 you ; for him let streams of honey flow, and the rough bramble bear the 
 fragrant spice. 
 
 M. Let him that hates not Bavius, love your verses, Maevius ; and let 
 him yoke foxes too, and milk he-goats. 
 
 D. Ye that pluck flowers and strawberries that grow on the ground, 
 flee hence, ye swains ! a clammy snake is lurking in the grass. 
 
 M. Beware, my sheep, to go too far ; 'tis ill to trust the bank ; even 
 now the ram himself is drying his fleece. 
 
 D. Tityrus, drive off the browsing she-goats from the stream ; I my- 
 self, when the season comes, will wash them all in the brook. 
 
 M. Drive together the ewes into the shade, ye swains ; if the parching 
 heat first check the milk, as of late it did, in vain shall we squeeze their 
 udders with our hands. 
 
 D. Alas, alas, how lean is my bull amid the fattening vetch ! Love 
 is the bane of the herd, and the master of the herd as well. 
 
 M. Not even love is the cause of ill to these of mine in sooth ; their 
 skin scarce clings to the bones. Some evil eye bewitches my tender 
 lambs. 
 
 D. Say in what land (and my great Apollo you shall be) the space of 
 heaven is but three ells in width. 
 
 M. Say in what land flowers spring inscribed with monarchs' names ; 
 and possess Phyllis for yourself alone. 
 
 P. It is not given to me to decide so high a contest between you. 
 Both you deserve the heifer, and also he ; and whoever else shall fear the 
 sweets or prove the bitters of love. Ye swains, close up the sluices now ; 
 the meadows have drunk enough. 
 
 VIR. 
 
i8 VIRGIL. [IV. t- 
 
 ECLOGUE IV. 
 
 i — 17. Let my pastoral song rise higher, and be worthy of Pollio. Ln 
 his consulship the golden age shall come round again, and a godlike 
 child be born, who shall rule a world of universal peace and in- 
 nocence. 
 
 Muses of Sicily, let us raise a somewhat loftier strain. Not all the 
 copses please, and tamarisks low : if we sing of the woods, let the woods 
 be worthy of a consul. 
 
 Now has come the latest age of the Cumaean hymn ; the mighty line of 
 cycles begins its round anew. Now too the maiden Astraea returns, the 
 reign of Saturn returns ; now a new generation of men is sent down from 
 the height of heaven. Only be thou gracious to the birth of the child, be- 
 neath whom the iron brood shall first begin to fail, and the golden race to 
 arise in all the world, O chaste Lucina ! Thine own Apollo now is king. 
 And it shall be in your consulship, in yours, Pollio, that this age of glory 
 shall commence, and the mighty months begin to run their course ; under 
 your auspices, whatever traces of our nation's guilt remain shall be ef- 
 faced, and release the earth from everlasting dread. He shall receive the 
 life of the gods, and see heroes mingled with gods, and shall himself be 
 seen by them, and with his father's virtues shall rule a reconciled world. 
 18 — 47. Nature will do homage to the infant child, and serpents and 
 poisonous herbs will disappear. In his youth corn, grapes, and honey 
 will everywhere be found; but there will still be adventurous voyages, 
 and- wars. When he is grown to manhood, even com7nerce will cease, 
 and nature will everywhere produce her fairest gifts; so the Fates 
 ordain. 
 Then for you, O child, the earth shall begin to pour forth far and wide 
 without aught of tillage its simple gifts, straggling ivy twined with fox- 
 glove, and the Egyptian lily blended with smiling acanthus. Of them- 
 selves the she-goats shall bring back home their udders swollen full with 
 milk, and the herds shall fear not mighty lions: of itself the ground that 
 is your cradle shall pour forth flowers to please you. The serpent too 
 shall perish, and the treacherous poison-plant shall perish : Assyrian 
 spice shall spring up eveiywhere. But so soon as you shall begin to be 
 able to read of the glorious exploits of heroes, and the deeds of your sire, 
 and to learn what virtue is, slowly the plain shall grow yellow with gently 
 waving corn, and on wild brambles shall hang the ruddy grape, and hard 
 oak- trunks exude the honey- dew. Yet a few traces of ancient guile shall 
 still be left behind, to prompt men to provoke the main with barks, to 
 circle towns with walls, to cleave the earth with furrows. Then shall be 
 a second Tiphys, and a second Argo to carry the flower of the heroes, 
 and a great Achilles shall again be sent to Troy. Next, when your age, 
 grown to its strength, has now made you a man, even the merchant shall 
 quit the sea, and the pine-built ship shall not exchange its wares ; every 
 land shall every product bear. The soil shall not feel the hoe, nor the 
 vineyard the pruninghook ; also the stout ploughman shall now unloose 
 his oxen from the yoke; and wool shall not learn to counterfeit various 
 
V. 1 9 .] THE ECLOGUES. 1 9 
 
 hues; but of himself the ram in the meadows shall now begin to change 
 the whiteness of his fleece for sweetly-blushing crimson, and for saffron 
 dye ; scarlet of its own accord shall dress the browsing lambs. " Ye 
 ages, be such your career," the Destinies to their spindles said, agreeing 
 in the stedfast will of fate. 
 
 48 — 63. Come quickly to receive your power, for all the world awaits 
 you. O that I may live to see so noble a subject for my verse! Hasten 
 to smile upon your mother; else you cannot expect the favour of 
 Heaven. 
 
 Begin to assume, I pray, your sovereign honours, (the time will soon 
 arrive,) dear offspring of the gods, majestic child of Jove! See the world 
 nodding with its ponderous vault, and lands, and plains of sea, and deep 
 of heaven ! See how all things exult in the age that is to come ! O may 
 there be left me the latest portion of a life so long, and breath so much, 
 as shall suffice to sing your deeds! Truly neither Thracian Orpheus 
 shall surpass me in song, nor Linus, albeit his mother aid the one, and 
 his father the other, Orpheus Calliopea, and Linus the fair Apollo. If 
 even Pan, with Arcadia for judge, were to compete with me, even Pan, 
 with Arcadia for judge, would pronounce himself vanquished. Begin, 
 little child, to recognise your mother by a smile : ten months have brought 
 your mother lingering sickness ; begin, little child ; him, on whom his 
 parents have not smiled, no god has deemed worthy of his table, and no 
 goddess of her couch. 
 
 ECLOGUE V. 
 1 — 19. Two shepherds agree to sing and play in turn y in a cave 
 shaded with the wild vi?ie. Menalcas asks Mopsus, the younger of 
 the two, to begin. 
 
 Me. MOPSUS, since we two have met together, both good men, you to 
 inspire the light reed, I to sing verses, why do we not sit down here 
 among the elms and blended hazel-trees? 
 
 Mo. You are the elder ; it is fair I yield to you, Menalcas, whether we 
 go beneath the restless shades the Zephyrs ever stir, or choose to descend 
 into the cave. See, how the woodland vine with scattered clusters has 
 o'errun the cave. 
 
 Me. On our hills Amyntas only strives with you in song. 
 
 Mo. Why, 'tis he who would strive to vanquish Phcebus in singing. 
 
 Me. Begin first Mopsus ; if you have either any love-songs to Phyllis, 
 or praises of Alcon, or satires on Codrus. Begin ; Tityrus will tend the 
 browsing kids. 
 
 Mo. Nay, I will try these verses, which lately I carved on the green 
 bark of a beech-tree, and set the tune, and marked the time in turns : 
 then do you bid Amyntas rival them. 
 
 Me. As far as the bending willow yields to the pale-green olive; as far 
 as the lowly Celtic reed yields to the bright-red rosebeds, so far, in my 
 judgment, Amyntas yields to you. 
 
 Mo. Well, say no more, O youth ; we have come within the cave. f 
 20 — 44. A n elegy on the death of Daphnis, who is represented as the 
 ideal shepherd. Now that he is go?ie, the gods have left the fields, 
 
 2 — 2 
 
20 VIRGIL. [V. 20— 
 
 and a curse has come on the land,. Let us make his to?nb, and write 
 his epitaph. 
 
 The Nymphs for Daphnis wept destroyed by a cruel doom ; ye hazel- 
 trees and brooks attest the Nymphs' lament ; while his mother, clasping 
 her loved son's piteous corpse, exclaims against the cruel gods and stars. 
 No herdsmen on those days, Daphnis, drove their oxen from pasture to 
 the cool streams : no cattle either tasted the river, or touched a blade of 
 grass. Daphnis, both savage hills and woods proclaim that even Cartha- 
 ginian lions deplored your death with groans. 'Twas Daphnis who first 
 made it a custom to yoke Armenian tigers to the car, 'twas Daphnis who 
 introduced the wild dances of Bacchus, and taught us with curling leaves 
 to wreathe the pliant shafts. As the vine is the glory of trees, grapes of 
 vines, bulls of herds, harvests of wealthy fields, in you was every glory .of 
 your friends: since fate has carried you away, even Pales, and even 
 Apollo, have left the fields. Oft in the furrows to which we have com- 
 mitted great grains of barley, unfruitful darnel and barren wild oats 
 spring ; instead of the gentle violet, instead of the bright narcissus, the 
 thistle rises up, and the thorn with prickly spikes. t Strew the ground with 
 leaves, ye shepherds, curtain the fountains with shade ; such are the honours 
 that Daphnis desires you to pay him; and build a mound, and place above 
 the mound this epitaph : " I Daphnis rest in the woods, famed even 
 from earth to heaven, a fair herd's guardian, fairer still myself." 
 45 — 55. Menalcas praises the verses and skill ofMopsus, and undertakes 
 to reply with a song- on the ascent of Daphnis to the sky. 
 
 Me. Such is your song to me, O heavenly bard, as slumber on 
 the grass to weary men, as 'tis to quench our thirst amid the heat 
 with the sweet water of a dancing brook. You match your master 
 not on the pipe alone, but in voice as well. Blest youth, you now will 
 be next after him. Yet I will sing somehow to you this lay of mine in 
 turn, and will exalt your Daphnis to the stars ; Daphnis I will waft to the 
 stars ; me also Daphnis loved. 
 
 Mo. Can any favour be to me greater than such a gift? Not only 
 the boy was himself worthy to be sung of, but long has Stimicon praised 
 your songs to me. 
 
 56 — 80. The apotheosis of Daphnis. He showers blessings on the fields ', 
 as the patron god of shephe?'ds and husba?idmen, 
 
 Daphnis in beauty wonders as he views the portal of the sky unseen 
 before, and underneath his feet beholds the clouds and stars. So 
 sprightly pleasure charms the woods and all the fields beside, and Pan 
 and shepherd swains and Dryad girls. The wolf against the herd no 
 ambush plots, and nets no treachery against the stags ; kind Daphnis 
 loves repose. Even unshorn hills fling in delight their voices to the 
 stars ; even rocks, even copses, now cry aloud, "A god, Menalcas, 
 a god is there ! " Be kind, I pray, and gracious to thine own ! Behold 
 four altars ; see two for thyself, O Daphnis, two for sacrifice to Phoebus. 
 Each year two goblets foaming with new milk, and two bowls of rich 
 olive oil I will dedicate to thee, and specially making the banquet merry 
 with flowing wine, before the hearth if it be cold, if harvest-time within 
 the shade, I will pour out from flagons the new-made nectar of Arvisian 
 
VI. 23.] THE ECLOGUES. 21 
 
 wine. Damcetas and Lyctian JEgon shall sing to me ; Alphesibceus 
 shall imitate the dances of the Satyrs. Ever to thee these honours 
 shall be given, both when we pay the Nymphs our annual vows, and 
 when with offerings we go round the fields. While the boar shall love 
 the mountain -heights, while the fish shall love the sea, while bees shall 
 feed on thyme, while grasshoppers on dew, thy honour, name, and 
 praises ever shall remain. As to Bacchus and to Ceres, so to thee the 
 husbandmen shall make their vows each year ; thou also shalt bind 
 suppliants to their vows." 
 
 Si — 90. Mopsus extols the song of Menalcas. The two shepherds ex- 
 change gifts. 
 Mo. What gifts are there that I can give you in return for such a lay? 
 For neither the whistling of the south wind as it comes, nor billow-beaten 
 shores delight me so, nor streams that hurry down 'twixt pebbly vales. 
 
 Me. I first will present you with this fragile hemlock- pipe : this 
 taught me, " Corydon deeply loved the fair Alexis ; " this taught me 
 ' too, " W T hose flock is that? To Melibceus does it belong?" 
 
 Mo. Take you next a crook, Menalcas, which, though he asked 
 me oft, Antigenes won not from me (and he was then worthy of 
 love) ; a crook with well-matched knots and brazen rings adorned. 
 
 ECLOGUE VI. 
 
 1 — 12. Virgil, in the character of Tityrus, excuses himself fro?n writing 
 an heroic poem in p7'aise of Varies, but hopes a pastoral song may 
 spread his fame. 
 
 'Twas my Thalia first who stooped to sport in Syracusan verse, 
 and blushed not to haunt the woods. When I would sing of kings 
 and battles, Phcebus plucked me by the ear, and warned me thus : 
 "Tis a shepherd's business, Tityrus, to feed fat sheep, to sing a thin- 
 drawn lay." I now (for bards more than enough you will have, O 
 Varus, who will be eager to hymn your praises, and record your grisly 
 wars,) on slender reed will practise my rustic lay. Forbidden themes 
 I sing not. Yet if these lines also anyone, anyone inspired with fondness 
 for the song shall read, of thee our tamarisks, Varus, of thee each grove 
 shall sing ; and no page is dearer to Phcebus, than that which on its 
 front has inscribed the name of Varus. 
 
 13 — 30. Two shepherds once found Silenus asleep, boiuid him, and 
 claimed a song he had pro7?iised them. Silenus begins his song, which 
 
 fills all nature with delight. 
 
 Proceed, ye Muses. Young Chromis and Mnasylos saw Silenus lying 
 in a cave asleep, his veins swollen, as they ever are, with the wine of 
 yesterday ; the wreaths had slipped from his head, and lay but a short 
 space from him, and in his grasp his heavy tankard hung by its well- 
 worn handle. They assailed him, (for oft with the promise of a song 
 the old god had cheated them both,) and cast upon him fetters twined 
 of his own garlands. ^Egle makes herself their comrade, and comes 
 to join the timorous swains, ^Egle fairest of the Naiads ; and when 
 his eyes are opened, she paints with blood-red mulberries his face and 
 brows. He. laughing at the trick, says "Wherefore twine ye fetters? 
 
22 VIRGIL. [VI. 24— 
 
 Loose me, boys ; it is enough that you have seemed to have this power. 
 Listen to the song ye wish to hear ; you for your prize shall have the 
 song, she another reward." He spoke, and at once begins. Then 
 it was that you might see fawns and wild beasts bounding to the 
 measure, then might you see stiff oak-trees nod their tops ; neither does 
 the cliff of Parnassus so much rejoice at Phoebus' voice, nor do Rhodope 
 and Ismarus so much admire their Orpheus. 
 
 31 — 86. The soiig of Silenus. He describes ihe creation of the woi'ld 
 from the four elements, and the early history of man, a?td tells some 
 legends of old mythology. His song lasts till evening calls the shep- 
 herds home. 
 
 For he sang how massed throughout the mighty void were the seeds of 
 earth and air and sea and unmixed fire w r ithal ; how from these principles 
 all early forms, and the sphere of the universe itself, still soft, grew into 
 substance ; how next the ground begins to harden, and shut out Nereus 
 within the sea, and by degrees assume the forms of things ; and how the 
 earth is soon amazed at the rising and growing light of the new-made 
 sun, and showers fall from the uplifted clouds ; when first the woods 
 begin to rise, and here and there the creatures roam o'er hills that know 
 them not. Then he tells of the stones that Pyrrha cast, of the reign of 
 Saturn, of the birds of Caucasus, and the theft of Prometheus. Besides 
 these tales, he sings how the mariners had called aloud on Hylas, left 
 behind at the fountain, how with " Hylas ! Hylas ! " all the shore was 
 loud. And he tells of her, blest if herds had never been, Pasiphae, 
 solaced with her love for a snow-white steer. Ah, hapless damsel, what 
 frenzy has seized you? The daughters of Proetus with counterfeited 
 lowings filled the fields; and not one of them was led away by so dis- 
 graceful a passion for the herd, albeit she feared lest her neck might feel 
 the yoke of the plough, and on her smooth brow often sought for horns. 
 Ah, hapless damsel, you now are roaming on the hills ; while he, on soft 
 hyacinth flowers resting his snowy side, under the dusky ilex chews the 
 pale-green grass, or follows some heifer in the mighty herd. " Close, 
 Nymphs, Dictaean Nymphs, now close the forest glades, if anywhere 
 perchance the steer's vagrant steps may lead him to meet my gaze ; per- 
 haps, while he is intent on the green pasture, or as he follows the herds, 
 some cows may draw him on to the Gortynian stalls." Then of the girl 
 he sings, whose eyes were charmed by the apples of the Hesperides ; 
 then he tells how Phaeton's sisters were circled with the bitter mossy 
 bark, and upward rose, high-towering alder-trees. Then he sings how 
 one of the sisterhood guided Gallus to the Aonian hills, as he wandered 
 beside the streams of Permessus, and how all the choir of Phoebus rose 
 up to greet their guest ; how Linus, shepherd with a gift of scng divine, 
 his locks with flowers and bitter parsley decked; spoke to him thus ; " To 
 you the Muses give these reeds (receive them now), which erst they gave 
 the old Ascraean bard, by which in song he used to charm stiff ash-trees 
 from the hills. On these be hymned by you the birth of the Grynean 
 grove, so that there be no other wood, of which Apollo may make higher 
 boast. What shall I next relate? How he sang the story of Scylla, child 
 of Nisus, of whom the legendary tradition tells that she, with barking 
 
VII. 34-] THE ECLOGUES. 23 
 
 monsters girt below her beauteous waist, troubled the barks of Ithaca, 
 and in deep flood, alas! mangled with her sea-hounds the affrighted 
 mariners ; or how he told of the transformed limbs of Tereus, what feast, 
 what gifts Philomela for him prepared, in what form of flight she sped to 
 the wilderness, and what were the wings on which the hapless one hovered, 
 before she fled away, above her own abode? All that once, as Phoebus 
 played and sung, blessed Eurotas heard, and bid his bay-trees in their 
 memory keep, he sings of; the echo-beaten, vales repeat the sound to 
 heaven ; till the Evening-star warned them to drive in their sheep to the 
 fold, and tell their tale, and floated forth in the unwilling sky. 
 
 ECLOGUE VII. 
 1 — 20. Melibceus tells how, as he was looking for a goat that had 
 
 strayed, he heard of a match between two rival singers, Cory don and 
 Thyrsis. He puts off his work to listen to the contest. 
 
 IT chanced beneath a shrill-voiced ilex-tree Daphnis had made his 
 seat, and there Corydon and Thyrsis had gathered their flocks together, 
 Thyrsis the sheep, Corydon the she-goats swollen with milk ; both in the 
 bloom of youth, Arcadians both, ready to sing on equal terms, and to 
 reply in verse. Hitherward, while I fenced my tender myrtles from the 
 cold, my he- goat himself, the lord of the herd, had strayed away; and so 
 I caught sight of Daphnis. He, when he saw me coming towards him, 
 said, " Make haste and come hither, Melibceus ! Your he-goat and kids 
 are safe ; and if you can be idle for a time, repose beneath the shade. 
 Of themselves your steers will come through the meadows hither to 
 drink ; here with waving rushes Mincius fringes his verdant banks, and 
 from the sacred oak the swarming bees resound." What could I do? 
 I had neither Alcippe nor Phyllis to shut up close at home my weaned 
 lambs; and great was the contest, Corydon matched with Thyrsis. Yet 
 to my business 1 preferred their sport. So in alternate verse they both 
 began to strive ; alternate verse the Muses bade them shape in mind. 
 These Corydon rehearsed, and Thyrsis these in turn. 
 21 — 70. The shepherds sing four verses each alternately, the second 
 stanza always having in some way reference to the first, as in the match 
 in the third Eclogue. The contest ends in the victory of Corydon. 
 
 C. Nymphs that I love, nymphs of Libethra, either bestow on me the 
 gift of song, such as you grant my Codrus ; for he makes verses next to 
 Phoebus' lays ; or if we have not all that power, here on this sacred pine 
 my shrill-voiced pipe shall hang. 
 
 T. Arcadian swains, with ivy deck your rising bard, so that with envy 
 Codrus' heart may burst ; or if he praise me even beyond my due, with 
 foxglove wreathe my brow, that the tongue of malice may not harm the 
 poet that is to be. 
 
 C. Delia, young Micon offers to thee this bristly wild-boar's head, 
 and the branching antlers of a long-lived stag ; if still his prayers shall 
 be fulfilled by thee, wrought all of polished marble thou shalt stand, thy 
 ankles with the purple buskin bound. 
 
 T. A bowl of milk, Priapus, and these cakes, 'tis enough for thee to 
 claim from me each year; poor is the garden which thou dost protect. 
 
24 VIRGIL. [VII. 35— 
 
 Now we have wrought thee in marble for a time ; but if the new-born lambs 
 make full the flock, then be thou all of gold. 
 
 C. Galatea, child of Nereus, sweeter to me than Hybla's thyme, fairer 
 than swans, lovelier than light-hued ivy, so soon as to their stalls my steers 
 return from pasture, if for your Corydon any care you feel, come hither. 
 
 7V Nay, may I seem to you more bitter than Sardinian plants, more 
 rough than butcher's-broom, more vile than seaweed cast upon the shore, 
 if this day be not now longer than all the year to me. If ye have any 
 sense of shame at all, go hdme from pasturage, my oxen, go. 
 
 C. Ye mossy springs, and grass more soft than sleep, and verdant 
 arbutus, that screens you with its scanty shade, from the midsummer heat 
 protect my herd ; now the parching summer comes ; now in their fruitful 
 sprout the vinebuds swell. 
 
 T. Here is a hearth, and oily brands of pine ; here an abundant fire 
 ever, and door-posts blackened with perpetual soot ; here of the north- 
 wind's cold we reck as much as the wolf of the number of the flock, or 
 rushing rivers of their banks. 
 
 C. Fair stand the junipers and shaggy chestnut-trees; beneath each 
 tree its fruit lies strewn around ; now all things smile ; but if these hills 
 beauteous Alexis quit, even the rivers you would see dried up. 
 
 T. The field is scorched ; the grass is parched and dies beneath the 
 tainted air ; from the hills the envy of Liber withholds the vine-leaves' 
 shade : at the coming of my Phyllis every grove shall be green, and Jove 
 in a gladdening shower shall plenteously descend. 
 
 C. Most dear to Alcides is the poplar, to Bacchus the vine, to beau- 
 teous Venus the myrtle, to Phoebus his chosen bay-tree ; Phyllis the hazels 
 loves ; so long as Phyllis shall love them, neither the myrtle, nor the bay 
 of Phoebus shall surpass the hazel-trees. 
 
 T. Fairest is the ash in woods, the pine in gardens, the poplar among 
 streams, the fir on mountain-heights ; but if you, beauteous Lycidas, would 
 often come to visit me, the woodland ash, the garden pine, should yield to you. 
 
 M. These verses I remember, and how the vanquished Thyrsis vainly 
 strove. From that day it has been with us Corydon, none but Corydon. 
 
 ECLOGUE VIII. 
 I — 16. The songs of Damon and Alphesiboeus are to form the subject 
 of this Eclogue. The dedication to Pollio. It was just daybreak 
 when Damo7i began his song. 
 
 The shepherd's lay, the lay of Damon and Alphesiboeus, on whom, as 
 they vied in song, the heifer heedless of her pasture gazed, by whose 
 melody lynxes were entranced, and streams were changed, and stayed 
 their wonted pace, we will repeat the lay of Damon and Alphesiboeus. 
 
 Whether you now, my friend, are passing by the rocks of great Timavus, 
 or sailing by the coast of the Illyrian main, say, will that day ever come, 
 when it will be granted me to utter your feats ? Say, will it come to pass 
 that I may spread through all the world your verse, the only verse that 
 deserves the buskin of Sophocles ? From you was my beginning ; my 
 ending shall be to you. Accept the song essayed at your command; and 
 round your temples let this ivy creep among the conqueror's bays. 
 
VIII. 64.] THE ECLOGUES. 25 
 
 Scarcely had night's cold shadow passed away from heaven, at the 
 
 hour when on the tender grass the dew is most welcome to the cattle, 
 
 when, leaning on a staff of polished olive, Damon thus begins : 
 
 17 — 62. Damon bewails the broken faith of Nisa, his betrothed, and 
 
 depreciates Mopsus , his successful rival. He co7nplains of the ancient 
 
 cruelty of Love, 
 
 D. Spring to life, O Morning- star, and speed the kindly day, its 
 harbinger, while I, cheated in my love, ill-bestowed on Nisa my betrothed, 
 make my complaint, and, though their testimony availed me nought, yet, 
 as I die, address the gods in this my latest hour. Begin with me, my 
 flute, the strains of Maenalus. Maenalus a shrill-voiced grove and vocal 
 pines possesses ever; he ever hears the loves of shepherds, and Pan, the 
 first who suffered not the reeds to rest untrained to art. Begin with me, 
 my flute, the strains of Maenalus. Nisa is given to Mopsus ; what may 
 we not hope in love? Presently griffins will with horses mate ; and in the 
 following age with hounds the timorous hinds will come to drink. Begin 
 with me, my flute, the strains of Maenalus. Cut new torch-brands, 
 Mopsus ; the bride is being led home to you ; bridegroom, scatter the 
 nuts ; for you the Evening-star leaves CEta's height. Begin with me, my 
 flute, the strains of Maenalus. O mated with a worthy lord, while you 
 contemn us all, and while my pipe, and while my goats, and shaggy eye- 
 brows, and my length of beard, are hateful in your eyes, and you fancy not 
 one god cares for the deeds of men. Begin with me, my flute, the strains 
 of Maenalus. Within our fence I saw you when a child, gathering with 
 my mother apples wet with dew : I was your guide. Then my twelfth 
 year of life had just begun : from the ground I just could reach the brittle 
 boughs. The moment that I saw, how was I lost ! How a pernicious 
 blindness forced me on ! Begin with me, my flute, the strains of Maenalus. 
 Now know I what Love is ; on flinty crags Tmaros, or Rhodope, or the 
 far remote Garamantes, are they that gave him birth, the boy that comes 
 not of our race or blood. Begin with me, my flute, the strains of 
 Maenalus. 'Twas ruthless Love that taught the mother to pollute her hands 
 in her children's blood ; cruel too were you, O mother ; was the mother 
 more cruel, or that wicked boy? More cruel, that wicked boy; you, 
 mother, were cruel too. Begin with me, my flute, the strains of Maenalus. 
 Now let the wolf e'en flee before the sheep, let rugged oak-trees golden 
 apples bear, let the narcissus on the alder bloom, let tamarisks from their 
 bark exude rich ambergris. Let screech-owls also vie with swans, let 
 Tityrus be Orpheus, — an Orpheus in the woods, among the dolphins an 
 Arion, (begin with me, my flute, the strains of Maenalus,) yea, even let all 
 the world be made deep sea. Ye woods, farewell ! Headlong from a high- 
 towering mountain's peak I will plunge into the waves ; take this last 
 present of your dying swain. Cease you, now cease, my flute, the strains 
 of Maenalus. 
 
 63 — no. Alphesiboeus, in the character of an enchantress, sings of the 
 various charms by which she endeavours to bring back her lover. 
 
 So Damon sung ; ye Muses, rehearse the answer of Alphesibceus ; we all 
 have not power to perform all tasks. 
 
 A. Bring water forth, and with a pliant garland wreathe these shrines 
 
26 VIRGIL. [VIII. 65— 
 
 and unctuous sacred plants, and choicest incense burn ; that I may essay 
 by magic rites to turn away the sound senses of my betrothed ; nothing is 
 wanting here, except the song. Draw Daphnis from the city home, draw 
 Daphnis home, my song. Song has even power to draw the moon from 
 heaven ; Circe by song transformed Ulysses' crew ; by song the clammy 
 snake is burst asunder in the meadows. Draw Daphnis from the city 
 home, draw Daphnis home, my song. First these three threads of three hues 
 each distinct around you I entwine, and thrice around these altars draw your 
 image ; in an uneven number heaven delights. Draw Daphnis from the 
 city home, draw Daphnis home, my song. Amaryllis, in three knots three 
 colours weave ; weave them, Amaryllis, pray, and say these words ; "Venus' 
 bands I weave." Draw Daphnis from the city home, draw Daphnis home, 
 my song. As this clay hardens, and as this wax melts in one and the 
 self-same fire, even so let Daphnis melt with love for me, to others' love be 
 hard. Scatter the sacred meal, with brimstone fire the crackling boughs 
 of bay. Me unkind Daphnis burns ; I, to kindle Daphnis, burn this bay. 
 Draw Daphnis from the city home, draw Daphnis home, my song. May 
 Daphnis feel love such as the heifer feels, when she, tired out with seek- 
 ing for the steer through groves and lofty woods, in green sedge by a 
 water-brook sinks down, all lost, and minds not to re-treat as night 
 grows late ; and may I care not to heal his pain ! Draw. Daphnis from 
 the city home, draw Daphnis home, my song. These dresses once that 
 traitor left with me, dear pledges of himself ; which I now in the threshold 
 of the door commit, O Earth, to thee ; Daphnis these pledges make my 
 due. Draw Daphnis from the city home, draw Daphnis home, my song. 
 These herbs and these drugs at Pontus gathered were given me by 
 Mceris himself; at Pontus plenteously they spring. By the power of these 
 I have seen Mceris oft become a wolf and hide within the woods; oft have 
 I seen him call up spirits from the deep of the grave, and draw sown corn 
 away to other fields. Draw Daphnis from the city home, draw Daphnis 
 home, my song. Amaryllis, bear ashes forth, and cast them o'er your 
 head into the running brook ; and look not behind you. With these 
 charms I will assail Daphnis ; nought recks he of the gods, and nought 
 of magic songs. Draw Daphnis from the city home, draw Daphnis home, 
 my song. See, while I delay to bear them forth, the ashes of themselves, 
 of their own accord, have fired the altars up with flickering flames ! May 
 the sign be good ! Something it surely means, and Hylax is barking at 
 the door. Am I to believe? Or do they that love mould in their own 
 thoughts visions for themselves? Stop you, now stop, my song, from the 
 city Daphnis comes. 
 
 ECLOGUE IX. 
 
 1 — 16. Lye Idas, who has heard that Menalcas has saved his farm by his 
 poetry, wonders to hear from Moeris that a stranger has seized the 
 land. Moeris tells hi}n that poetry was no protection against intrud- 
 ing soldiers. 
 L. Whither away, Mceris ? Go you, as the path leads, to the city ? 
 M. O Lycidas, we have reached this point alive, a woe we never 
 dreamt of, that a stranger should seize our farm, and say, " These lands 
 
IX. 47] THE ECLOGUES. 27 
 
 are mine, ye ancient occupiers yield possession." Now vanquished, sad, 
 since Fortune sways the world, we send to him these kids, and may the 
 gift prove no blessing. 
 
 L. I surely had heard, that where the hills begin to swell from the 
 plain, and downward drop their ridge with gentle slope, as far as the 
 fountain and the beech-trees, whose tops are shattered now, your master 
 Menalcas by his lays had saved all the land. 
 
 M. So you had heard, and so the story went ; but, Lycidas, our lays 
 have as much power among the arms of Mars, as they say the doves 
 of Chaonia have, when the eagle comes against them. Indeed, had not 
 a crow on my left hand warned me from a hollow ilex- tree by some 
 means to break off the new-begun dispute, neither I, your Mceris, nor 
 Menalcas himself would be living. 
 
 17 — 36. The two shepherds extol the songs of Menalcas ', and Lycidas 
 begs Mceris to recite some of them. 
 
 L. Alas, can any man think of crime so foul ? Alas, were your de- 
 lightful lays, and yourself as well, almost snatched from us, Menalcas ? 
 Who then would sing of the Nymphs? Who would bestrew the ground 
 with flowering plants, or curtain the fountains with green shade ? Or who 
 would sing the verses I silently caught from you of late, when you were 
 journeying to Amaryllis, our darling ? " Tityrus, while I am away (the 
 distance is but short) feed my she-goats ; and drive them, Tityrus, when 
 fed, to drink ; and as you drive them on, beware of coming in the he- 
 goat's way, for he strikes with his horn." 
 
 M. Nay, rather these, which though not yet finished he used to sing 
 to Varus : " Varus, your name (let Mantua but be spared us, Mantua, 
 alas too near to hapless Cremona) swans in their song shall waft aloft to 
 heaven." 
 
 L. So may your swarms shun yews of Corsica, so may your cows on 
 lucerne fed their udders swell, — begin, if aught you can. Me too the 
 Muses have made a poet ; I too have lays ; me also the shepherds call a 
 bard ; but I believe them not. For as yet I ween I utter not things meet 
 for the ear of Varus or Cinna, but cackle like a goose among the tuneful 
 swans. 
 
 37 — 55. Mceris complies with the wish of Lycidas, and repeats some 
 verses of Menalcas. He complains of his failing 7nemory and voice; 
 and tells Lycidas he may hear the songs of Menalcas from his 
 own lips. 
 
 M. So indeed I am doing, Lycidas, and silently pondering in my 
 mind, if I can recollect them ; and it is no common lay : " Come hither, 
 Galatea ; for why care you to play in the waves ? Here is the rosy 
 spring, here about the streams earth sheds many-coloured flowers, here 
 the white poplar overhangs the cave, and creeping vines their shadowy 
 arbours weave ; come hither ; let the billows madly beat the shore." 
 
 L. How deem you of the verses I heard you singing by yourself 
 beneath the cloudless night ? I remember the measure, could I cpm- 
 mand the words. 
 
 M. "Daphnis, why mark you the risings of the ancient constellations ? 
 Lo, the star of Caesar, child of Venus, has come forth, the star beneath 
 
28 VIRGIL. [IX. 48- 
 
 whose sway the fields are spread with joyful crops, and the grape deepens 
 its colour upon the sunny hills. Daphnis, graft the pears ; your chil- 
 dren's children shall pluck your fruit." Age carries all away, memory 
 too ; I recollect that when a boy I often whiled away long days in song : 
 now all those ditties are by me forgot ; now Mceris also voice itself 
 forsakes ; wolves have looked on Mceris first. But yet Menalcas will oft 
 enough repeat for you those songs. 
 
 56 — 67. Lycidas still presses Mceris to sing. Mceris excuses himself till 
 
 Menalcas retitms. 
 
 L. With reasoning you long linger my desire. And now, look all the 
 deep in peace is laid, and lo, all the gales of the whispering wind have 
 dropped. From hence but half our way is left ; for the tomb of Bianor 
 begins to be seen : here, where the farmers strip the abundant leaves, 
 here, Mceris, let us sing ; here set down your kids ; we shall still reach 
 the city. But if we fear lest night first gather a cloud of rain, we may go 
 right onward as we sing, — so, less irksome is the way ; that we may 
 sing as we go, I will relieve you of this burden. 
 
 M. Cease, boy, to urge me more, and let us set about our instant 
 business : we will sing songs better then, when the master himself is 
 come. 
 
 ECLOGUE X. 
 
 1 — 30. This last pastoral song is in honour of Gallus, and tells of his love 
 for Lycoris, who has forsaken him. The woods and hills of Arcadia 
 mourn for him, and gods and men visit him, to console his despair. 
 Arethusa, suffer me to accomplish this my final task : for my Gallus 
 I must sing a lay, of verses few, but such as Lycoris herself may read ; 
 who would refuse a lay to Gallus ? So, when you glide beneath the 
 Sicilian waves, may briny Doris mingle not her flood with thine. Begin : 
 let us discourse of Gallus' torturing love, while my flat-nosed she-goats 
 browse on the tender twigs. Not to the deaf we sing ; the forests every 
 note repeat. What were the groves, or what the glades, that held ye, 
 Naiad maids, when Gallus languished with love ill-bestowed? For 
 surely not the ridges of "Parnassus, surely not any height of Pindus, nor 
 Aonian Aganippe, caused you to keep away. For him even bay-trees, 
 even tamarisks wept ; for him as he lay beneath a desolate rock, even 
 piny Maenalus wept, and the crags of cold Lycaeus. His sheep too stand 
 around ; they scorn not us, and scorn not you the flock, O god-like bard ; 
 beauteous Adonis too fed his sheep beside the streams : the shepherd 
 came too, slowly the swineherds came; Menalcas came, all wet from 
 steeping winter-mast. " Whence springs that love of yours?" they all 
 inquire. Apollo came : "O Gallus, why so mad?" he says ; "Lycoris, for 
 whom you pine, has followed another through the snow, and through the 
 savage camp." Silvanus also came, his head decked with a rustic crown, 
 wagging his fennel flowers and lilies large. Pan came, Arcadia's god, 
 whom we ourselves have seen, with blood-red elderberries and vermilion 
 stained. "Will there be any bound to your tears?" he says; "Love 
 regards not such ; insatiate of tears is cruel Love, and grass of running 
 brooks, and bees of lucerne-bloom, and goats of leaves." 
 
X. 77-] THE ECLOGUES. 29 
 
 31 — 69. Galhis replies. He wishes he could live the life of an Arcadian 
 shepherd, but mad love of war has made him a soldier. For a moment 
 he resolves to lead a pastoral life^ and strive to forget his love; but 
 soon bethinks himself that no change of scene ca?i alter Love, who con- 
 quers all things eve7y where alike. 
 But sadly in reply he says : "Still sing, Arcadians, on your hills my 
 woes : Arcadians alone are skilled in song. Oh ! then how softly would 
 my bones repose, if e'er your pipe should of my love discourse. And 
 would I had been one of you, and either keeper of your flock, or dresser 
 of your ripened grapes ! Surely at least the one I loved, whether it were 
 Phyllis, or Amyntas, or whoever it were, (what then would it matter that 
 Amyntas was dark of hue ? Both violets and hyacinths too are dusk :) 
 among the willows would lie with me beneath the creeping vine ; Phyllis 
 would gather garlands, Amyntas sing for me. Here are cool springs, 
 Lycoris, here velvet meadows, here a grove ; here with you I might 
 slowly waste away only by lapse of time. Now frenzied love for ruthless 
 Mars keeps me ever in arms in the very midst of weapons, and face to 
 face with the enemy : you far from your native land (let me only not believe 
 it !) alone, away from me, hard-hearted one ! view Alpine snows and the 
 Rhine's frozen streams. Ah, may the frosts harm you not ! Ah, may the 
 jagged ice wound not your tender feet ! I will go: and the lays that in 
 Chalcidian verse I have composed will attune upon the pipe of the Sici- 
 lian swain. I am resolved rather in forests, among caves that wild beasts 
 haunt, to endure, and carve on tender trees my love ; they will grow, and 
 with them you will grow, my love. Meanwhile, amid the throng of 
 Nymphs, I will roam o'er Masnalus, or hunt the fierce boar ; and not the 
 keenest cold shall forbid me to encompass with hounds the thickets of 
 Parthenius ; even now methinks I speed o'er rocks and through echoing 
 woods ; 'tis my delight from the Parthian bow to shoot Cydonian shafts ; 
 — as if this could be my frenzy's antidote, or that god could learn to 
 soften at the woes of men ! Now a second time neither Dryads nor even 
 songs have charms for me ! Even ye woods, a second time adieu ! Our 
 toils on him can never work a change, not though in the midst of the 
 time of frosts we should drink the Hebrus and endure the snows of 
 the rainy Thracian winter ; nor if, when the inmost bark is parched and 
 dying upon the lofty elm, beneath the star of Cancer we should tend the 
 Ethiopians' wandering flocks. Love conquers all the world ; let us too 
 yield to Love." 
 
 70 — 77. The Conclusion of the Eclogues. 
 'Twill be enough that your bard has sung as much as this, Pierian 
 Ladies, while he sits idle, and twines a basket of slender hibiscus ; ye 
 will make these songs of highest worth to Gallus, Gallus, for whom my 
 love each hour grows as much as in the early spring shoots up the vigor- 
 ous alder. Let us rise : the shade is oft unwholesome to those that sing 
 beneath it ; unwholesome is the shade of the juniper ; shade hurts the 
 crops as well. Go ye home, go, my goats, for you have browsed your 
 fill ; and the Evening-star is rising. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE GEORGICS. 
 
 If the Eclogues must on the whole yield to the Idylls of Theocritus, if 
 the ^Eneid may not claim to be the chief of Epics, yet, as the author of 
 the Georgics, Virgil will generally be allowed to be the prince of didactic 
 poets. It is true that here, as in the Eclogues, he professes to follow 
 a Greek original. He avowedly imitates Hesiod ; and speaks of himself 
 as one who " old Ascraean verse in Roman cities sings." But the influence 
 cf Hesiod in the Georgics is not like the influence of Theocritus in the 
 Eclogues. Indeed, Virgil owes but little to the Works and Days of 
 the Boeotian poet. Except in the general character of the subject, in the 
 constant praise of unwearied industry, and in some few points of detail, 
 there is but little similarity between the two works. For Hesiod is 
 a practical writer ; perhaps he only used poetry at all because it was the 
 one form of composition in his time ; his digressions are few, and his 
 verse is seldom imaginative. But the practical value of the Georgics is 
 certainly intended to be subordinate to their claims as a poem; their 
 greatest beauties are contained in digressions from the subject; and the 
 verse throughout is elaborately adorned with musical flow and poetic 
 colouring. 
 
 It may be mentioned that in the first book of the Georgics Virgil has 
 borrowed part of his matter from the Diosemeia (Prognostics) of another 
 Greek poet, Aratus ; and that Quinctilian speaks of Virgil as a follower 
 of Nicander, also a Greek poet, who wrote on the art of keeping bees. 
 Still there is no doubt that the poetry of the Georgics owes very little to 
 either of these writers. Virgil has taken from Aratus hardly anything 
 but mere materials for his work ; and he everywhere improves what he 
 appropriates, by his own characteristic arrangement and poetical form. 
 Nicander's work on bees is lost ; but, judging from his extant writings, 
 we may safely assume that he has not lent much to the charm of the 
 fourth book of the Georgics. 
 
 But no small portion of the spirit and poetry of the Georgics Virgil 
 owes to a work of his own nation, the poem of Lucretius On tJie Nature 
 of Things. It is true that at first sight the two writers may seem to 
 possess little in common. Lucretius has an absorbing enthusiasm for his 
 subject ; he is filled with a passionate desire to explain and enforce the 
 system of philosophy he treats of; for he firmly believes that, if it be 
 rightly understood, it will relieve the mind of all unhappiness and weak- 
 ness ; that it will drive away the phantoms of superstition, and all the 
 terrors of death. And so, through his very earnestness, his continual 
 pressing of the details of his subject, he naturally grows wearisome to 
 the reader; he wants the lighter touch and greater variety of Virgil. 
 His digressions too, though very beautiful, are but rare, and are not 
 always skilfully introduced ; and again, his verse is monotonous, and his 
 diction is often heavy and inelegant. In fact, as an artist he is far 
 inferior to Virgil. 
 
 Yet the Georgics owe him much. To him, even more perhaps than to 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE GEORGICS. 31 
 
 Hesiod, is due the spirit of earnestness in his subject which Virgil has 
 so well succeeded in imparting to the Georgics ; not indeed the over- 
 whelming devotion of Lucretius himself, but a continual conviction of 
 the necessity of severe toil, of grappling with difficulties, of firm resolu- 
 tion. This feeling is strongly brought out in many passages of the first 
 three books ; and the same spirit is equally clear in the fourth, which takes 
 for its subject the bee, the emblem of toil and thrift. Like Lucretius too, 
 Virgil expresses his consciousness of the difficulty of giving interest to 
 the details of his subject. The Georgics also contain many actual imita- 
 tions from Lucretius ; the account of the pestilence, at the end of the 
 third book, is modelled on the description of the plague at Athens, which 
 concludes the poem of Lucretius. Virgil has also appropriated many of 
 the phrases and formulas of the older poet. 
 
 To the same source are due those indications of love and admiration 
 for natural philosophy which appear here and there in the Georgics. 
 There is an evident reference to Lucretius himself in the famous passage 
 towards the end of the second book, where Virgil extols the blessed- 
 ness of him " who has had the power to learn the causes of things, and 
 has cast beneath his feet all fears, and inexorable fate, and the roar of 
 greedy Acheron." But the mind of Virgil himself was perhaps hardly 
 suited for philosophy ; he seems to regard science rather with admiration 
 than sympathy; his own views "on the nature of things" were certainly 
 not decided and made up ; and he had probably little aptitude or enthu- 
 siasm for dealing with abstract subjects. 
 
 Many writers of later times have been more or less indebted to the 
 Georgics ; but, as compared with the Eclogues, the former have had few 
 direct imitators : the didactic poetry of modern Europe has on the whole 
 taken Horace for its model rather than Virgil. Agriculture is a subject 
 difficult indeed to treat poetically; and no great poet since Virgil has 
 ventured to write an elaborate work on husbandry. But several English 
 poets have taken the Georgics for their pattern to a greater or less extent ; 
 of these Thomson is the most eminent ; but The Seasons is more 
 descriptive than didactic, and resembles Virgil in its serious and heroic 
 style, and in particular passages, rather than in general design and 
 arrangement. Phillips' Cyder and Dyer s Fleece are perhaps best known 
 among the more professed imitations of the Georgics. 
 
 The Georgics were probably begun about B.C. 37, and occupied, the 
 so-called Donatus says, seven years of Virgil's life. We learn, from the 
 conclusion of the work, that it was finished during the campaigns of 
 Octavianus in the East, soon after the battle of Actium, which took place 
 B.C. 31. It was written, Virgil himself tells us, at the suggestion of 
 Maecenas. But there is little ground for the idea that it was part of the 
 design of the poem to encourage the revival of agriculture in Italy, 
 depressed as it was after the long continuance of civil war, and a period 
 of insecurity and violence. For the Georgics certainly cannot be called 
 a practical work ; and the tone of the poem on this subject is not hope- 
 ful, but melancholy ; the poet looks back with mournful regret on the dd 
 times when due honour was paid to the plough ; when the Romans were 
 simple, honest, frugal, industrious, and at peace among themselves : but 
 
3 2 VIRGIL. [I. i_ 
 
 he does not venture to look forward to the return of ancient simplicity 
 and virtue. 
 
 The Georgics have often been praised as the most highly finished of 
 Virgil's poems. They have all the merits that have been noticed in the 
 Eclogues, and even more ; and they have far fewer defects. They are 
 also more original ; for the Romans, though never a pastoral, had always 
 been an agricultural people ; and dwelt w T ith fondness on the stories of 
 Curius, Cincinnatus, and others of their old heroes, who had followed the 
 trade of husbandry ; so that Virgil was now treating of one of the prin- 
 cipal characteristics of his own nation. And so, though the charge of 
 unreality may in some degree be brought against the Georgics, as well as 
 against the Eclogues, as must always be the case in a didactic work 
 where practical usefulness is made subordinate to poetical treatment, yet 
 here the defect is far less apparent. And we see in the Georgics a decided 
 growth in Virgil's genius, a finer sympathy with nature, and a more 
 splendid and vigorous power of description ; more delicate touches of 
 feeling and observation, greater artistic skill in arrangement, stronger 
 grasp of the subject, and a command of verse still more varied and 
 majestic. The praise which Johnson gives to the author of The 
 Seasons may surely with still greater justice and accuracy be assigned 
 to the poet of the Georgics : " His numbers, his pauses, his diction, are 
 of his own growth, without transcription, without imitation. He looks 
 round on Nature and on Life with the eye which Nature bestows only on 
 a poet ; the eye that distinguishes, in everything presented to its view, 
 whatever there is on which imagination can delight to be detained. He 
 imparts to us so much of his own enthusiasm, that our thoughts expand 
 with his imagery, and kindle with his sentiments." 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 i — 42. The subjects of the four Georgics. The invocation of the heavenly 
 powers, especially of Augustus, soon about to rise to heaven. 
 What makes the crops rejoice, under what star 'tis meet, Maecenas, 
 to plough the land, and wed the vines to elms, how. oxen we should 
 tend, what care in breeding cattle use, what experience we need, if 
 we would keep thrifty bees, now I begin to sing. And oh, ye brightest 
 luminaries of the world, guides of the gliding year along the sky, 
 Liber and Ceres, who sustainest life, if by your bounty the earth 
 received the rich ear for the acorn of Dodona, and mixed the draughts 
 of the water of Achelous with the juice of the newly discovered grape ; 
 and ye, oh Fawns, deities ready to aid the husbandmen, yes hither 
 come, ye Fawns with tripping foot, and ye Dryad maidens ; for of 
 your bounty now I sing. Thou too, for thou art he, at whose com- 
 mand the earth by thy trident struck straight did produce the neighing 
 steed, oh Neptune ; and thou of groves the dresser, for whom three 
 hundred milk-white steers crop the fruitful bushes of Caea ; and do 
 thou, great god, leaving thy native grove and lawns of Lycaeus, Pan, 
 thou guardian of the sheep, as thou lovest thine own Maenalus, come 
 to my help, gracious lord of Tegea ; and thou, Minerva, inventress 
 
1. 69.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 33 
 
 of the olive, and thou, O youth, from whom we learnt to make the 
 crooked plough, thou too, Silvanus, with tender cypress plucked from 
 its roots in thy hand ; and gods and goddesses all, whose joy it is to 
 protect our fields, who cherish the new fruits of the earth, that spring 
 without a seed, or on sown crops send down from heaven many a 
 plenteous shower ; but chiefly thou, O Csesar, though we know not 
 yet, what company in heaven thou dost mean to choose, whether to 
 watch o'er our towns, and to protect our lands, so that the mighty 
 world may welcome thee as giver of the fruits of the earth, and lord 
 of seasons, and with thy mother's myrtle crown thy brows ; or 
 whether thou wilt come as the god of the boundless sea, that thy 
 divinity alone the mariners may worship, thee furthest Thule may 
 obey, and Tethys buy thee for a son-in-law with the dowry of all 
 her waves : or wilt thou add thyself as a new star to speed the 
 laggard months, where room for thee appears between Virgo and 
 the grasping claws of the scorpion ; e'en now that burning star of 
 himself for thee contracts his arms, and leaves thee more than thy 
 fair share of heaven : whatever power thou wilt be, for Tartarus 
 hopes not for thee as king, nor would a passion for sovereignty so 
 fell enter thy heart, however Greece may praise Elysian fields, and 
 Proserpine though claimed care not to follow her mother : do thou 
 vouchsafe an easy course, and favour my bold attempts, and with 
 me show pity on the husbandmen, who know not the right path, 
 and enter on thy divine powers, and even now learn how to listen to 
 the vows of men. 
 
 43 — 7°* Plough in early spring, A fourfold ploughing will find its 
 reward. Yet understand the soil. Fight not against Nature. Follow 
 her guidance in ploughing. 
 
 In early spring, as soon as the dissolving snow melts on the white 
 mountains, and the earth crumbles unbound by zephyrs, e'en then let my 
 plough be pressed deep down, and my bullock begin to groan, and the 
 share be well worn and bright from the furrow. That land alone fulfils 
 the prayers of the covetous farmer, which twice has felt the heat and 
 twice the cold : abundant crops that goodman's granaries burst. Yet 
 ere our iron cuts an unknown plain, first let us learn with care the winds 
 and changing habits of the sky, the natural culture and disposition of the 
 ground, and what each land will produce, or will refuse to bear. Here 
 corn grows happiest, there the vines : there flourish fruit-trees best, and 
 herbs unbidden spring. Seest thou not how Tmolus sends us scented 
 saffron, India ivory, the soft Sabaeans their own frankincense, the naked 
 Chalybes iron, Pontus the strong-smelling castor, Epirus mares which 
 win the prize in the Olympic games. From the very first these laws and 
 eternal covenants were laid by nature on certain places, ever since the 
 time Deucalion threw stones into the untenanted world ; whence men are 
 sprung, a hardy race. Come then, let the rich soil be turned up by sturdy 
 bullocks straightway in the first months of the year, let the clods lie 
 exposed, and dusty summer bake them with its mellow suns ; but should 
 the soil be poor, then it will be sufficient to leave it lightly raised with 
 shallow furrow, just before Arcturus rises : so will you prevent in the rich 
 
 VIR. 3 
 
34 VIRGIL. [I. 70— 
 
 soil weeds from hurting the joyous corn ; in poor land the scanty mois- 
 ture will not fail the barren sand. 
 
 yi — 93. Let your land lie fallow every other season; change your crops ; 
 idle lands are not ungrateful ; it is well to burn stubble. 
 Further, suffer your land after harvest to lie fallow in idleness every 
 other season, and let your field grow hard in indolent repose : or 'neath 
 another star sow yellow corn, whence, before, you have carried the pulse 
 rejoicing in its quivering pod, or the slight seeds of vetch, or brittle 
 stalks and thick rattling growth of bitter lupine. A field is burnt by crop 
 of flax or oats, 'tis burnt by poppies steeped in Lethe's sleep. But to 
 plough every other season will lighten toil ; only be not ashamed to soak 
 the arid soil with rich dung, or freely to cast dirty ashes o'er the ex- 
 hausted fields. Thus too with change of grain the land finds rest; 
 meanwhile not thankless is the untilled earth. 'Tis often good to set fire 
 to the barren fields, and to burn light stubble with crackling flames ; 
 whether thence the lands conceive some hidden power and rich nourish- 
 ment ; or whether by the fire all the vice of the ground is baked out, and 
 redundant moisture thence transpires ; or else that heat opens more 
 passages, and relaxes the hidden pores, whence juice may reach the 
 young herbs ; or else it binds and hardens the gaping veins, and prevents 
 the soaking rain from sinking in, and the fierce power of the devouring 
 sun, and penetrating cold of Boreas from scorching the land. 
 94 — 117. Harrowing is good^ and cross ploughing. Pray for dry 
 winters, wet summers. Let water in or drain it off as need re- 
 quires. Let cattle eat down luxuriant corn. 
 
 Very greatly too does he help the fields, who with harrows breaks the 
 sluggish clods, and drags o'er them osier hurdles ; nor on him does 
 yellow Ceres look down with idle gaze from high Olympus ; nor on him 
 who turns his plough, and in new direction breaks thoroughly the ridges 
 obliquely, which he had stirred when first he cut the surface ; with 
 frequent exercise he subdues the earth and tames the fields. Ye farmers, 
 pray for summers wet, and winters fair ; 'tis winter's dust that makes the 
 corn so glad, that bids the field rejoice : then most does Mysia glory in 
 her tilling, then even Gargarus marvels at her crops. Or need I tell of 
 him, who having cast his seed, like soldier in close fight, falls on the 
 fields, levelling the ridges of the sorry sand ? then on the crops brings 
 rills and flowing streams, and when the parched land is hot, and the 
 blade is dying, look, from the brow of the sloping path he entices the 
 water : the falling flood wakes o'er the smooth stones a hoarse murmur, 
 and with its bubblings cools the thirsty fields. Or what of him, who lest 
 with heavy ears the stem should forward fall, sends in his flocks to eat 
 down the luxuriant corn in the tender blade, ere the grain o'ertops the 
 furrow? or of him, who draws off the collected moisture of marshy ground 
 by mixing thirsty sand? chiefly, when in the months we cannot trust the 
 full river o'erflows, and covers all around -with layer of mud, whence 
 hollow ditches steam with moisture warm. 
 
 1 1 8-— 146. But many are the enemies of the farmer. Jove has so ordai?ied 
 it. The golden age encowaged idleness. Necessity is the mother of 
 invention. 
 
I. 165.] THE GEORGICS. 35 
 
 And yet, though industrious men and labouring oxen experience all 
 these toils in tilling the ground, this is not all, for greedy goose, and 
 Strymonian crones, and succory with bitter roots, and shade of trees are 
 not harmless, or innoxious. The great Sire himself would not have the 
 path of tillage to be a smooth one, and first disturbed the fields by the 
 husbandman's art, and whetted human wit by many a care, nor suffered 
 heavy sloth to rust his realm. Before the rule of Jove no tillers used to 
 subdue the fields ; it was impious then e'en to mark the field or distin- 
 guish it by bounds. Men's gains were for the common stock ; of her 
 own free will more readily the earth did all things bear, when none 
 solicited her gifts. Jove to black serpents added deadly slime, he bid 
 the wolves to prowl, the sea to swell, he shook from off the leaves honey, 
 and hid fire out of sight, and checked the streams of wine that once ran 
 in every brook, that experience by practice might strike out various arts 
 little by little, seeking for the blade of corn in furrows, striking forth the 
 fire hidden in veins of flint. Then first the rivers felt the hollowed 
 alder ; then sailors numbered stars, and called them by their names, the 
 Pleiades, the Hyades, and the bright bear of Lycaon. Then was the 
 taking of wild animals in toils and the snaring of birds with bird-lime 
 discovered, and how to gird great glades of forests with hounds. And now 
 one lashes a broad river with a casting net, throwing it deep, and another 
 draws a dripping dragnet in the high seas. Then was stiff iron, and the 
 blade of the grating saw first used ; for the men of the golden age clave 
 the splitting wood with wedges. So various arts succeeded. Labour 
 overcame all difficulties, labour that cannot tire, and the pressure of need 
 amidst the pinches of life. 
 147 — 159. Ceres taught 7nen how to till the land. Yet many ai'e the 
 
 farmer's difficulties. Without industry he would return to acorns 
 once ??iore. 
 
 Ceres was the first to teach mortals how to turn the land with iron 
 share, when the acorns and arbutes began to fail in the holy wood, and 
 Dodona denied men food. But presently to the corn too were added its 
 own troubles, and it was ordained that noxious mildew should eat the 
 stems, and that the lazy thistle should bristle in the fields : see how die 
 the crops, in their stead arises a prickly wood, cleavers and caltrops, and 
 amidst the neat cornfields the unfruitful darnel and barren wild-oats lord 
 it in the land. Now unless too you give the land no rest with diligent 
 harrows, and make a noise to scare the birds, and with your bill restrain 
 the boughs of the dark o'ershadowing country, and with vows invoke the 
 rainy god, alas, you will idly gaze on your neighbour's great heap, and find 
 no comfort for your hunger, but once more to shake the oak in the wild 
 woods. 
 
 160 — 175. / must not forget the farmer's implements. The plough in 
 particular is curiously wrought. 
 
 I must tell too of the implements of the hardy rustics, without which 
 the corn cannot be sown, or grow to the harvest. There is first the 
 share, and the heavy strong timber of the crooked plough, and the slowly 
 rolling wagons of the Eleusinian mother, the threshing sledges and drags, 
 and harrows of unwieldy weight ; further too the common wicker furni- 
 
 3—2 
 
36 VIRGIL. [I. 166- 
 
 ture of Celeus, arbute hurdles, and the mystic winnowing fan of Iacchus ; 
 all which remember well to provide and Store up long before, if the well- 
 earned honours of the divine country are to be yours. The elm while yet 
 quite young in the woods is bent by strong force, and trained to grow into 
 the shape of a plough-beam, and receives the form of a crooked plough. 
 To the end of this a pole as much as eight feet long, two earth-boards, 
 and share-beams with double back are fitted. Also a light lime-tree is cut 
 down betimes for the yoke, and a tall beech will make a handle, to turn 
 the bottom of the plough from behind ; the wood hung up in the chimney 
 is seasoned by smoke. 
 
 176 — 186. Let the threshing-floor be level and hard, lest weeds get t7t, or 
 an imals . creep through. 
 
 Many are the precepts of the men of old I could repeat to you, did you 
 not start off, as one loth to learn such trifling tedious points. Above all 
 level your threshing-floor with a huge roller, and work it with the hand, 
 and make it solid with binding potter's clay, to hinder weeds from grow- 
 ing through, or lest it give way and chap through dust, lest, too, various 
 plagues mock your hopes ; often does the little mouse build his home 
 under the ground and there make his granaries ; or moles bereft of eyes 
 their chambers dig ; in holes the toad is found, and all the many other 
 vermin that the ground produces ; a mighty heap of corn the weevil 
 wastes, or the ant that dreads an old age of penury. 
 187 — 203. The fruit of the walnut-tree and the corn-harvest correspond. 
 Be careful to pick out the best seeds. All things i7i nature degenerate 
 to the careless. 
 
 Likewise observe and see how, when the walnut in the woods is clothed 
 with fullest blossom, and seems to bend its scented boughs ; if the fruit 
 abounds, there will be corn in like measure, and a great threshing come 
 with a great heat ; but if the shade of the tree is fuller with luxuriant 
 leaves, your floor shall idly thresh your stalks rich in nought but chafT. 
 Some men I have seen medicate the seeds they sow, and steep them in 
 alkali and black lees of oil, to give a fuller fruit to the deceitful pods, that 
 with any fire however low soon may they be sodden. I have seen these, 
 though picked long before and tested with much care, yet for all that 
 degenerate, if human toil does not pick with the hand the largest, one by 
 one each year. Thus all in nature is fated to speed from worse to worse, 
 and slipping back to run in downward course ; just as when a man with 
 oars painfully rows a boat up against the torrent, if perchance he slacks 
 his arms, lo headlong down the descending stream the current sweeps 
 him on. 
 
 204 — 230. Famier a?id sailor alike must watch the stars. Each seed has 
 its own star, under which to be sown. 
 
 Further, as carefully must the star of Arcturus, and the days of the 
 Kids, and the bright Dragon be observed by us on land, as by those, who, 
 homewards bound across the stormy seas, venture to the Euxine and 
 straits of oyster-breeding Abydos. When the balance has equalized hours 
 of day and sleep, and halves the world exactly 'twixt light and shade, 
 then work, my men, your steers, sow barley in the land, even to the last 
 showers of impracticable winter. Further, now it is time to cover in the 
 
1. 264.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 37 
 
 ground flax that is to be your crop, and poppy dear to Ceres, and at once 
 to bend to your ploughs, whilst you still have dry ground, and the clouds 
 fall not in rain. In spring sow beans ; then you too, lucerne, the crumb- 
 ling furrows receive, and millet asks an annual care : when the bright 
 Bull ushers in the year with his gilded horns, and the Dog retiring sets, 
 facing the threatening Bull. But if it be for a harvest of wheat, and for 
 spelt, a hardy crop, you work your ground, and labour earnestly for 
 bearded ears alone, let the seven daughters of Atlas hide themselves from 
 your eyes with the dawn, and let the Cretan star of the blazing Crown 
 retire, ere you commit the expected seeds to the furrows, or hastily trust 
 a whole year's hope to the unwilling earth. Many have begun before 
 Maia sets ; but the desired crop has baffled them with empty ears. 
 But if your mind is to sow vetch or common kidney-beans, and you 
 scorn not the culture of Egyptian lentil, setting Bootes will give no 
 doubtful sign : begin, and extend your sowing even to the midst of the 
 frosts. 
 
 231 — 251. The Surfs path in the zodiac rules the seasons. There are 
 
 five zones. 
 
 For this end the golden Sun guides the year's circle, portioned out in 
 regular parts through the twelve constellations of the world. Five zones 
 possess the sky ; whereof there's one, which is ever red with the flashing 
 Sun, and ever torrid with fire. Round this two at the end extend to 
 right and left, with blue ice stiff and gloomy showers of rain. 'Twixt 
 these and the middle zone, two by heaven's grace are granted to suffering 
 mortals ; a path is cut 'twixt both, along which the order of the signs 
 might obliquely turn. As steep to Scythia and the Riphasan crags arises 
 our world, so it is depressed downward to the south of Libya. One pole 
 high towers above our heads; dark Styx and the ghosts in the abyss 
 behold the other beneath their feet. Here forth doth twine with winding 
 coil the Dragon great, after the manner of a stream, around and through 
 the two Bears, the Bears that dread a bath in Ocean's waves. There, as 
 they tell, is either the silence of the dead of night for ever, and darkness 
 thickens 'neath the pall of night ; or else from them to us Aurora comes, 
 bringing back the day ; and when on us the rising Sun first breathes 
 with panting steeds, there blushing Vesper lights his latest fires. 
 252 — 258. The sailor and the farmer can trust nature. 
 
 Hence we can learn coming changes of weather in the dubious sky, 
 hence the days of harvest and the season of sowing, and when 'tis meet 
 with oars to cut the faithless sea, when to launch our rigged fleets, and 
 when at the proper time to fell the pine-tree in the woods : nor will you 
 be disappointed, if you watch the setting and rising of the heavenly 
 signs, and observe the year fairly divided by four distinct seasons. 
 259 — 286. Even wet weather and holy days have their proper work; yet 
 all days are not equally lucky. 
 
 If ever a cold rain confines the farmer at home, 'tis granted to him then 
 to do much at leisure, which otherwise in fine weather he would presently 
 have to hurry over : then does the ploughman sharpen the hard tooth of 
 the blunted share ; then does he scoop troughs out of trees, and marks 
 his cattle, or numbers his sacks of corn. Others sharpen stakes and two- 
 
38 VIRGIL. [I. 265— 
 
 horned forks, and prepare Sabine willow twigs to bind the creeping vine. 
 Now let the pliant basket be woven of twigs of briar ; * now roast your 
 corn with fire, now grind with stone. Why, even on holydays there is 
 certain work that gods and men allow ; to make a channel for a stream 
 no religious scruple ever forbad, or to defend the corn with a hedge, to 
 set snares for birds, to fire brambles, and bleating flocks to dip in health- 
 ful stream. Oft too the driver of the slow-paced ass loads his ribs with 
 oil or common fruit, and on his return brings back from the town an 
 indented millstone and mass of black pitch. Nay, the Moon of herself 
 has appointed some days in one degree, some in another, as lucky for 
 work. The fifth day eschew : it is the birth-day of ghastly Orcus and of 
 the Furies : then with monstrous labour did the Earth bring forth Cceus 
 and Iapetus and fierce Typhceus, and the brethren who conspired to tear 
 down the ramparts of heaven. Thrice did they strive to pile Ossa on 
 Peiion, yea and on Ossa to roll Olympus with all its woods ; thrice did 
 the great father hurl asunder the heap of mountains. But the seven- 
 teenth day is lucky either to plant the vine, or to take and tame oxen, 
 and to add new threads to the web ; the ninth is good for the runaway, 
 adverse to the thief. 
 
 287 — 310. Even in night and early morning and in long winter even- 
 ings we need ?tot be idle. Summer is the time for industry; in winter 
 enjoy yourself and yet even then work. 
 
 Very many are the tasks that you will best set yourself in the cool 
 night, or when at sun-rising the morn sprinkles the earth with dew. 
 By night 'tis best to cut the light stubble, by night to mow the dry 
 meadows ; in night the clammy dew will never fail. One, too, sitting by 
 the late fire of a wintery night, watches the hours through, pointing 
 torches with a sharp knife ; meanwhile the goodman's wife with song 
 beguiles her labour long, and runs through the web with shrill-sounding 
 comb, or over Vulcan's fire boils down the sweet must, and scums with 
 leaves the water of the bubbling boiling kettle. But the golden corn of 
 Ceres is cut down in the. heat of mid-summer, in burning mid-summer 
 the floor threshes the roasted grain. Plough stripped, stripped sow : 
 winter is a time of idleness for the husbandman. In cold weather farmers 
 mostly enjoy what they have gained ; and joyously one with another 
 interchange their feasts ; thereto invites winter, a genial time, dissolving 
 care ; as when heavy laden ships have just reached the haven, and the 
 joyous mariners have crowned their sterns. But yet, for all that, even 
 then is the season to strip the oaks of the acorns, and gather the berries 
 of the bay, and the blood-berries of the myrtle ; then is the time too to 
 set snares for cranes, and nets for stags, and to hunt the long-eared 
 hares ; also to shoot does, as you whirl the hempen thong of the Balea- 
 ric sling, in the days when snow lies deep, when the streams drive down 
 lumps of ice. 
 
 311 — 334. Autumn and spring are stormy.. Terrible is the tempest : in 
 a moment it sweeps away the work of months. 
 
 Need I tell of the changeful weather and stars of autumn? and 
 why the husbandmen must watch, when shorter grow the days, less 
 fierce the heat ? or when in showers downwards falls the spring, just 
 
1. 365.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 39 
 
 as the bearded harvest bristles in the fields, just as the milky corn swells 
 on the green stem ? Often have I, as the farmer was bringing the reaper 
 into the golden fields, and just gathering the barley with its brittle stalks, 
 seen all the winds engage in battle-shock, and tear up all the full corn 
 far and wide from the very roots, and toss it whisked on high ; so fiercely 
 does the storm with whirlwind dark sweep away the light stalks and 
 stubble flying far. Often too from heaven comes a mighty column of 
 waters, and clouds gathering from the deep mass together the weather 
 hideous with grim storms of rain ; down tumbles the sky impetuous from 
 above, and with a mighty rain washes away the joyous crops, and all the 
 labours of the oxen ; fast fill the dykes, and hollow rivers roaring swell, 
 and the surging sea boils with its straits that breathe with rage. The 
 great father himself in the midnight of the storm-clouds hurls his thunder- 
 bolt with flashing right hand ; trembling thereat quakes the mighty 
 earth ; in an instant flee the beasts of the field ; the hearts of men 
 throughout the world sink prostrate in lowly fear ; the god w r ith his 
 blazing bolt casts down either Athos or Rhodope, or high Ceraunia : then 
 redouble the winds, then thickens the shower; now woods, now shores 
 moan with the mighty blast. 
 
 335 — 350. Observe the stars, and neglect not religion, Ceres is the god- 
 dess of farmers; honour her in all your actions. 
 
 In dread of this, observe the months and stars of heaven; noting, 
 whither the cold planet of Saturn retires ; into what circles of heaven the 
 fiery Mercury winders. Above all, worship the gods, and duly pay your 
 annual offerings to great Ceres, sacrificing amidst the joyous blades of 
 corn, just at the very close of winter, just when fair spring-weather be- 
 gins. Then lambs are fat, and wines are mellow then; then sleep is 
 sweet beneath the thick shade on the hills. With one consent let all thy 
 rural labourers adore Ceres ; for her dilute honeycombs with milk and 
 soft wine; and thrice let the auspicious victim be led round the young 
 corn : then should follow the whole choir of the rejoicing companions, 
 and shouting let them invite Ceres under their roof: nor let a man of 
 them dare to put the sickle to the ripe corn, till in honour of Ceres he 
 has bound his head with oaken wreaths, and danced in uncouth measure, 
 chanting hymns. 
 
 351 — 392. Many are the signs of coining wind and rain. Nature is a 
 prophet: all things have a voice for the prudent. 
 
 Now that we may know this by infallible signs, both heat and rain, 
 and winds that bring up cold ; the great father himself hath ordained the 
 monthly warnings of the moon ; what foretells the fall of winds ; what far- 
 mers seeing oft, should keep their herds nearer to their stalls. Straight- 
 way, w T hen wdnds arise, either the straits of the sea begin to swell with 
 agitation, and a dry crash is heard on the high hills, or far in the dis- 
 tance the shores are filled with confused echoes, and the murmur of the 
 woods thickens on the ear. The wave can but ill forbear to do a mischief 
 to the crooked keels, even then when gulls fly swiftly back from the high 
 sea, sending their screams before them to the shore, and when the, sea- 
 coots sport on dry land, and the heron forsaking her familiar fen flies 
 aloft above the high clouds. Oft too, when wind impends, you w r ill see 
 
40 VIRGIL. [I. 366— 
 
 stars shoot headlong from the sky, and through the shade of night long 
 trails of flames whiten behind their fall. Oft will you see light chaff and 
 falling leaves fly about, or floating feathers dance on the water's top. 
 But when it lightens from the quarter of grim Boreas, and when the 
 home of Eurus and Zephyrus thunders, then are the dykes filled and all 
 the country is flooded, and every mariner out at sea furls his dripping 
 sails. Never unwarned are men, when rain does them a mischief; as it 
 rises from the low valleys, the cranes sailing on high fly swift before it, 
 or the heifer looking up to heaven snuffs the breeze with open nostrils, 
 or swallow twittering skims around the meres, or frogs in mud croak out 
 their ancient grumble, Often too the ant brings forth her eggs from her 
 inmost chambers as she tracks a narrow path ; and a great rainbow drinks 
 up moisture : and an army of rooks departing home in a long line from 
 their feeding make a loud clapping with a mass of thick wings. Again, 
 you may see various sea-fowl, and those which round the Asian meadows 
 in the fresh-water pools of the Cayster grub for their food, as in rivalry 
 with each other they pour abundant showers of spray o'er their bodies, 
 then dash their heads beneath the waves, then run into the billows, and 
 wantonly disport themselves in the joy of their bath. Then the crow 
 with clamorous cry importunately summons the rain, and solitary stalks 
 on the shore's sand. Not e'en the maids that card the nightly wool are 
 unwarned of the coming storm, as oft as they see the oil sputter in the 
 burning lamp, and a rotten growth that forms about the wick. 
 393 — 4 2 3« As sure are tk e signs of the happy return of fine weather. It 
 
 almost seems as if there were inspired prophets in the brute creation; 
 
 but ■ 'tis perhaps only natural changes that makes them so feel. 
 Nor less after rain are bright suns and dry open weather to be foreseen 
 and learnt by sure signs. For then the stars twinkle with undimmed 
 light, and the moon is seen to rise, as though not beholden to her bro- 
 ther's beams, nor are thin fleecy clouds, as of wool, borne through the 
 sky ; nor do the halcyons dear to Thetis spread out their wings to catch 
 the warm sun ; nor do the dirty swine remember to toss with their snouts 
 the bundles of straw into loose pieces. Then mists come lower down, 
 and lie along the plain, and the owl watching the setting sun from t-he 
 top of a roof keeps up her aimless nightly screech. On high is seen 
 Nisus in the clear sky, and Scylla pays the penalty of her sin for the 
 bright coloured lock ; where'er she flying cleaves the light air with her 
 wings, lo, her fierce foe Nisus follows close with a great whizzing through 
 the breeze; where Nisus soars upw r ards, she flying with many a sudden 
 snatch cleaves the light air. Then do the ravens in stifled tone three or 
 four times repeat a clearer note ; and often in their high roosts, with more 
 than wonted pleasure strangely glad, together rustle midst the leaves; 
 'tis -their delight now that the rain is over to revisit their little progeny, 
 and beloved nestlings; not that I can believe that they have from heaven 
 any inspiration, or from fate a further foresight of things to come; but 
 when the weather and changeful moisture of the sky alter the course of 
 nature, and the god of the air with the damp winds condenses what just 
 now was rare, and anon rarefies what was dense, the images of their 
 minds are turned, and their breasts conceive impulses other than what 
 
I. 465.] THE GEORGICS. 4* 
 
 they felt, while the wind chased the clouds ; hence we have the pleasant 
 chorus of birds in the fields, and the joys of the cattle, and the exulting 
 croak of ravens. 
 
 424 — 437. The 7910011 also gives signs ; a hazy moon portends rain, a red 
 moon wind, a clear moon fine weather. 
 But if you pay regard to the scorching sun, and the moons that succeed 
 in order, never will to-morrow's hours cheat you, nor will you be entrap- 
 ped by the snares of a calm night. If when the moon first gathers up her 
 returning rays, she encloses the dark air within her dim crescent, for hus- 
 bandmen and mariners a heavy rain is in store ; but if she shows her face 
 suffused with maiden blush, then there will be wind ; when wind is coming 
 golden Phcebe ever reddens. But if at her fourth rising, for that is a 
 warning that never fails, she rides through the heavens clear with crescent 
 undimmed, the whole next day, and all the days that follow even to the 
 end of the month, will be free from rain and wind, and sailors home re- 
 turning safe shall pay their vows on the shore to Glaucus and Panopea, 
 and Melicerta Ino's son. 
 
 438 — 460. The sun is as true a monitor as his sister the moon; his ap- 
 pearances vary to warn us of the weather that is coming. 
 The sun also, both w r hen rising and when he hides himself beneath 
 the waves, will give you signs ; infallible signs attend the sun, both those 
 which he brings when he returns in the morning, and those he shows 
 when the stars arise. When he at his birth and rising is marked with 
 spots, withdrawn into a cloud, and retires with half his disc, then may 
 you suspect showers, for from the deep comes rising swift the south wind 
 boding ill to plants and corn and cattle. Or when at dawn of day 
 amidst the thick clouds the rays burst forth in different directions, or 
 when with colour pale Aurora rises, as she leaves Tithonus' saffron bed ; 
 ah then ill will the leaf defend the ripening grapes, so thick upon the 
 roofs bounds hail that rattles sharp. Remember this e'en more, just as 
 the sun goes down, when through Olympus he has run his course, so will 
 it do thee good; for oft we see o'er the god's face the shifting colours 
 pass : a blue colour announces rain, or fiery winds ; but if the spots begin 
 to be mixed with glowing red, then you will see all nature rage with wind 
 and stormy rain together. On such a night let no one advise me to ven- 
 ture on the deep, or pluck my cable from its mooring on the shore. But 
 if both when the sun brings back the day and when he puts to rest the 
 light he brought back, his disc is bright and shining, then stormy rains 
 are but an idle fear, for with a cloudless north wind you will see the 
 forests wave. 
 
 461 — 497. But the sun foretells greater things than weather. He warns 
 us of hidden changes and revolutions, as by an eclipse he told of Cae- 
 sar's death: though then all nature combined in the prognostication 
 of ill. 
 
 In a word, whatever the fall of even brings, whence it is that the wind 
 drives before it rainless clouds, what the wet south wind is devising,. of 
 all the sun to you will warnings give. Who dares name the sun a liar? 
 He too often admonishes of the dark approach of alarms in our land, of 
 the swellings of treachery and concealed wars. The sun it was that 
 
42 VIRGIL. [I. 466— 
 
 showed his pity for Rome, when the light of Caesar's life was extin- 
 guished, by covering his bright orb with dusky murky darkness, when an 
 age of impiety feared eternal night. And yet at that time the earth like- 
 wise and the expanse of the deep sea, and ominous dogs, and birds fore- 
 bodiug ill gave many a sign. How often did we behold yEtna glow forth 
 with a burning deluge from her vast furnaces into the lands of the Cy- 
 clops, and roll balls of flame, and rocks of molten fire. Germany heard 
 a clashing of arms in the whole heaven : with unwonted heavings quaked 
 the Alps. Oft too a voice was distinctly heard through the silent groves, 
 a voice of mighty tones, and phantoms ghastly in marvellous mode ap- 
 peared in the dusk of twilight ; and cattle spoke, (a monstrous portent,) 
 rivers stay their course, the earth opens its mouth, ivory weeps as in sor- 
 row within the shrines, statues of bronze sweat. Eridanus, monarch of 
 waters, whirling forests in his mad eddy, poured forth his flood, and over 
 all the plains bore herds and stalls alike. Nor at the same time did 
 fibres of threatening import ever cease to appear in the entrails that 
 boded ill, or jets of blood to flow from wells, and high cities to resound 
 the night long with the howling of wolves. At no other time did more 
 lightnings shoot through a cloudless sky; nor ever so oft did ill-boding 
 comets blaze. Therefore it came to pass that a second time Philippi saw 
 Roman lines engage in civil fight ; and the heavenly powers thought it 
 not unmeet that twice with Roman blood Emathia and the broad plains 
 of Haemus should be fattened. Yes, and the time will come, when in 
 those lands the husbandman, as he labours, tilling the earth with crooked 
 plough, shall find Roman javelins eaten up with mouldering rust, or with 
 heavy hoes strike empty casques, and as he digs up the earth their grave 
 will marvel at the giant bones of a past age. 
 
 498 — 514. But, ye gods, spare us at least our Caesar: heaven should not 
 e?ivy earth j we need hi}n sorely i7i this age of icickedness and war. 
 Ye gods of our country, ye heroes sprung from our soil, Romulus, and 
 Vesta our mother, who preservest the Tuscan Tiber and the Palatine 
 hill of Rome, at least hinder not this our youth from coming to the suc- 
 cour of a ruined age. Long ago have we fully expiated by our blood the 
 perjuries of Troy the city of faithless Laomedon ; for some time past the 
 palace of heaven envies us thee, O Caesar, and complains that mortal 
 triumphs can interest thee ; and no wonder ; for on earth good is put for 
 evil and evil for good ; so many are the wars in the world, so many the 
 forms of guilt ; the plough has not its meed of honour; the fields lie rough, 
 the tillers are taken off to war, the crooked pruning hooks are forged into 
 stiff swords : on this side the Euphrates, on that side Germany stirs up 
 war ; neighbouring towns break their leagues and bear arms : the impious 
 Mars of civil strife rages in the whole world : thus, when from the barriers 
 started the four-horsed chariots pour forth, with ever quickening pace 
 they speed along the course, in vain does the charioteer tug at the reins, 
 he is borne along by the- steeds, and the chariot heeds not the curb. 
 
II. 46.] THE GEORGICS. 43 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 I — 8. The introductory invocation of Bacchus. 
 
 THUS far have I sung the tillage of corn-fields, and the stars of heaven ; 
 now thee, O. Bacchus, will I sing, and with thee of woodland copses, and 
 the offspring of the olive that slowly grows. Hither come, I pray, O 
 Father of the wine-press ; here all things are full of thy blessings ; for 
 thee the field blossoms and teems with the vine-leaves of autumn, for 
 thee the vintage foams in brimming vats. Hither come, I pray, O Father 
 of the wine-press ; with speed strip of! thy buskins, and with me plunge 
 thy naked legs in new-made must. 
 
 9 — 34. The various modes of rearing trees. 
 
 In the first place, nature has various forms for the production of trees. 
 For some, constrained by no man, of themselves, of their own accord, 
 come up, and far and wide possess the plains and winding streams ; as 
 the tender osier, and the pliant broom, the poplar, and the willow-copse 
 with its grey and hoary leaf : again, a class springs from seed that has 
 dropped on the ground ; as tall chestnuts, and the giant of the woods, the 
 mast-tree, that bears foliage sacred to Jove, and oaks, revered as oracles 
 by Greece. Others have a crowded growth, sprouting in off-shoots from 
 the parent root, as cherries and elms ; the bay-tree of Parnassus too springs 
 up, a tiny plant, beneath its mother's mighty shadow. These methods 
 nature first ordained; by them blooms every kind of forest-trees, and 
 shrubs, and hallowed groves. Other plans there are, which experience 
 by course of practice discovers for herself. One sends away suckers from 
 the tender body of their mother, and sets them in furrows ; another buries 
 stems in the soil, and stakes cloven cross-wise, and saplings with sharp- 
 ened ends ; other forest-trees await the time when the layer is bent into 
 an arch, and set in the ground, and the young plants live in a soil that is 
 their own. Others need not aught of root ; and the pruner fears not to 
 give back and entrust to earth the topmost spray of the tree. Nay more, 
 when the stock has been cleft in pieces (a wondrous thing to tell), an 
 olive root sprouts from the sapless wood. And oft we see the branches 
 of one tree pass unharmed into those of another, and the pear-tree suffer 
 a change, and bear engrafted apples, and upon plum-trees stony cornels 
 redden. 
 
 35 — 46. The address to husbandmen. The dedication to Maecenas. 
 
 Wherefore come, I pray you, learn by their kinds the proper modes of 
 culture, ye husbandmen, and tame by training the wildness of your fruit, 
 and let not the soil lie idle. It is sweet to plant Ismarus over with the 
 vine, and dress with the olive great Taburnus. And do you draw near, 
 and with me pursue the toilsome voyage I have begun, you that are my 
 glory, you that are by right the largest part of my renown, Maecenas, and 
 spread your flying sails far out to sea. Yet I aspire not to embrace all 
 points within my verse ; not if a hundred tongues were mine, a hundred 
 mouths, a voice of steel ; draw near, and skirt the beach's inmost line ; 
 land is within our grasp ; I will not now weary you with an unreal song, 
 and lead you through winding ways and tedious prefaces. 
 
44 VIRGIL. ^ [II. 47 — 
 
 47 — 82. Trees may be improved by various artificial methods, according 
 to their kind : the distinction between grafting and budding. 
 
 The trees that by their own power lift themselves into the world of 
 light, spring up unfruitful indeed, but vigorous and strong ; for here is 
 native power within the soil. Yet these too, if a man graft upon them, or 
 transplant and commit them to pits of well broken soil, will be found to 
 put off their wild spirit, and by frequent culture will readily pursue any 
 ways of art to which you call them. Likewise the barren tree, which 
 grows up from the root, will do this, if it be planted out over open land ; 
 at present the mother's lofty foliage and branches overshadow it, and 
 spoil it of fruitfulness while it grows, and exhaust it for a bearing tree. 
 Again, the tree that rears itself from scattered seeds comes up slowly, 
 destined to make a shade for late posterity, and its fruit degenerates, and 
 forgets its old flavour, and the vine bears sorry clusters, a plunder for the 
 birds. Be sure that on all trees labour must be spent, and all must be 
 marshalled into ranks, and disciplined at the cost of heavy toil. But 
 olives repay you best when reared by truncheons, vines by layers, Paphian 
 myrtles when raised from the entire trunk ; from suckers hard hazels spring, 
 and the mighty ash, and the umbrageous tree that forms the wreath of 
 Hercules, and the acorns of the Chaonian sire ; so also springs the 
 towering palm, and the fir that is to behold the perils of the sea. On the 
 other hand, the rough arbutus is grafted with the offspring of the walnut, 
 and barren planes oft bear the goodly apple-tree ; the beech is whitened 
 with the chestnut's pale blossom, and the mountain-ash with the pear's, 
 and swine crush acorns underneath the elm. Nor is the process of 
 grafting and budding with eyes one and the same. For where the buds 
 sprout from the midst of the rind, and burst their delicate coats, just in 
 the knot a narrow slit is made ; at this point they insert an eye taken 
 from a different tree, and teach it to grow into the juicy bark. Or, again, 
 boles free from knots are cut open, and with wedges a path is cleft deep 
 into the heart of the trunk ; then fruitful slips are introduced ; and with- 
 out long delay, lo, towards heaven shoots a mighty tree with happy 
 boughs, and views with wonder strange foliage, and fruit that is not 
 its own. 
 
 83 — 108. Each sort of tree has its varieties. 
 
 Besides the kind is not single only, either in the case of vigorous elms, 
 or the willow, and the lotus, or the cypresses of Ida ; nor do fat olives 
 spring destined to a uniform shape, the oval Orchades, the long Radii, 
 and the Pausian with bitter berry ; and so apples, and the groves of 
 Alcinous ; and cuttings of Crustumian and Syrian pears, and the heavy 
 Volemum, are not the same. The same vintage hangs not on our trees, 
 as Lesbos gathers from Methymna's bough ; there are Thasian vines, 
 there are also the white Mareotic, the former adapted to rich land, the 
 latter to lighter soil ; and the Psithian, more suitable for raisin wine, and 
 the dry Lagean, that will some day try the feet and bind the tongue ; the 
 purple and the precian ; and with what verse shall I extol you, Rhaetic 
 vine ? Yet do not therefore compete with the wine-bins of Falerii. There 
 are too Aminsean vines, a wine right sound to keep, to which the Tmo- 
 lian bows down, and sovereign Phanae itself ; and the lesser Argitis, with 
 
II. 154- ] THE GEORGICS. 45 
 
 which no other will be found to vie, either in yielding such a stream of 
 juice, or lasting so many years. I would not pass you by, vine of Rhodes, 
 welcome to the gods and to the second course, and you, Bumastus, with 
 your swelling clusters. But we cannot number either how many kinds, 
 or how many names there be ; and indeed it avails not to reduce them to 
 a number ; which he who should wish to know, would also wish to learn 
 how many grains of sand on the Libyan plain are stirred by the west 
 wind ; or to know how many Ionian billows travel to the shore, when the 
 east wind in his fury lights upon the ships. 
 
 109 — 135. Different trees are produced on different soils. 
 
 And yet all soils cannot produce all trees. In rivers the willow, in 
 muddy marshes the alder springs, on rocky hills the barren mountain-ash ; 
 the shore is fondest of the myrtle grove; lastly, Bacchus loves open 
 slopes, the yew the north wind and its cold. Observe too the region of 
 the world tamed by tillers most remote from us, the eastern homes of the 
 Arabians, and the painted Geloni : separate fatherlands are assigned to 
 trees. India alone bears black ebony, with the Sabasans alone is the 
 frankincense bough. Why should I tell you of the balm that exudes from 
 the fragrant stem, and the berries of the evergreen acanthus? Why of 
 the woods of ^Ethiopia, white over with downy wool, and how the Seres 
 comb off from the leaves the delicate fleeces ? Or of the forests that 
 India, still nearer to the ocean, rears, that nook at the limit of the world, 
 where no arrow, shot from the bow, can pass above the treetop through 
 the air? And yet that people is not slow in handling the quiver. 
 Media bears the generous citron, with acid juice and lingering flavour, 
 which, whenever fell step-mothers poison the cup, and mix herbs there- 
 with and pernicious words, comes a succour surer than aught else, and 
 drives the black venom from the limbs. The tree itself is large, and in 
 look much like the bay ; and a bay it were, did it not fling abroad 
 another scent ; its foliage falls not off in any wind ; its blossom is right 
 surely fixed ; with it the Medes wash carefully the noisome breath and 
 mouth, and use it as a medicine for asthmatic age. 
 1 36 — 1 76. The praises of Italy. 
 
 But neither the groves of Media, that land of wealth, nor fair Ganges, 
 and Hermus turbid with its slime of gold, can vie with the glories of 
 Italy ; not Bactra, nor the Indians, and all Panchaia rich in sands that 
 bear the frankincense. This region no bulls breathing fire from their 
 nostrils have ever ploughed for the sowing of the teeth of a grisly hydra, 
 nor has the cornfield bristled with crowded casques and spears of men : 
 but teeming crops o'erspread it, and the juice of the Massic vine ; olive- 
 trees possess it, and goodly herds ; hence comes the warrior horse, that 
 proudly bounds into the field; hence thy snowy flocks, Clitumnus, and 
 the bull, the chiefest victim, which, often bathed in thy hallowed stream, 
 lead to the shrines of the gods the triumphs of Rome. Here is ceaseless 
 spring, and summer in months where summer is strange ; twice the cattle 
 yield their increase, the tree is able twice to minister its fruit. But raven- 
 ing tigers are far away, and the lion's savage brood, and the aconite cheats 
 not hapless gatherers ; and the scaly snake speeds not his monstrous 
 rings along the ground, nor winds himself up into a coil with that huge 
 
I 
 
 46 VIRGIL. % [II. 155- 
 
 trailing length. Think too of so many glorious cities and laboured 
 works, so many towns piled by the hand of men on steepy crags, and the 
 streams that flow beneath those ancient walls ! Shall I tell of the two 
 seas, one that washes it above, and one below? Shall I sing of those 
 mighty lakes ? Of thee, great Larius, and of thee, Benacus, swelling with 
 billows and boisterous turmoil like a sea ? Shall I tell of havens, and the 
 barrier set against the Lucrine lake, and how the ocean chafes with 
 mighty roar, where the wave of the Julian harbour resounds with the sea 
 rolled backward, and the Tyrrhene surge streams into the channels of 
 Avernus ? This land too shows within her veins rivulets of silver and the 
 ore of brass, and flows with a plenteous stream of gold. This land has 
 reared a valiant race of men, the Marsians, and the Sabine manhood, and 
 the Ligurian inured to hardship, and the Volscians that bear the pike ; 
 this land has bred the Decii, the Marii, and the great Camilli, the Scipios 
 stout in war, and you, most mighty Caesar, who now, already conqueror in 
 the distant confines of Asia, drive far from the towers of Rome the un- 
 warlike Indian. Hail, realm of Saturn, mighty mother of fruits, mighty 
 mother of men ! For thee I venture to discourse of themes of ancient 
 glory, and works of ancient art, I dare to unlock those sacred springs, 
 and sing through Roman towns the Acraean lay. 
 
 177 — 225. The genius of different soils. Description of the land best 
 suited for the olive, for the vine, for grazing, and for corn-crops. 
 This is the place to discuss the genius of different soils ; what is the 
 vigour of each, what the colour, and what its. natural power for bearing 
 plants. First, ground hard to work, and unkindly mountain-land, where 
 meagre clay is found, and pebbles in the thorny fields, delight in the 
 grove that Pallas loves, the long-lived olive-tree. The wild olive springing 
 up abundantly in the same plot, and its wild berries overspreading the 
 fields, afford a sign. But the soil which is rich, and luxuriant with fresh 
 rushes, and the plain which is rank with herbage and prolific in its fruit- 
 fulness, (such as often we are wont to look down upon in a mountain's 
 hollow dell ; hitherward the s torrents pour down from rocky heights, and 
 bring a train of fertilising mud,) and which rises to the southern breeze, 
 and nurtures fern, hateful to the crooked plough ; this in time will supply 
 you with vines extremely hardy, and streaming with a wealth of wine- 
 juice ; this ground is fruitful in the grape, and in that draught, such as we 
 shed for libations from golden bowls, when the well-fed Tuscan blows his 
 ivory horn beside the altars, and in deep chargers we present the smoking 
 entrails. But if your bent is. rather to tend herds and calves, or the young 
 of sheep, or she-goats that exhaust the crops, haste to the woodland lawns 
 and distant meadows of well-watered Tarentum, and such a plain as 
 hapless Mantua lost, that feeds in grassy stream the snow-white swans : 
 neither crystal springs nor herbage will fail your flocks, and all that your 
 herds crop in the long days, the cold dew will quite replace in one short 
 night. Ground that is dark in colour, and rich beneath the print of the 
 ploughshare, and the surface of which is friable, (for this quality we imitate 
 by ploughing,) is commonly best for corn-crops ; from no plot of land will 
 you see more waggons departing homeward with slowly-pacing oxen ; or 
 again, land from whence the surly farmer carries away the trees, and 
 
II. 258.] THE GEORGICS, 47 
 
 overthrows the groves that have stood idle for many a year, and tears up 
 by the very roots the birds' ancient homes ; they then quit their nests and 
 speed aloft ; but the field, a novice to the plough, shines beneath the 
 pressure of the share. For as for the hungry gravel of a hilly country, it 
 scarce serves the bees with humble casia-nowers and rosemary ; and 
 scurfy tuff-stone, and chalk scooped out by darkhued water-snakes, de- 
 note that no other fields afford like, them sweet food for serpents, and 
 provide their winding haunts. Soil which exhales light mist and fleeting 
 vapour, and drinks in the moisture, and, when it pleases, readily discharges 
 it from itself, and which is ever dressed in the greenery of its own grass, 
 and never harms the steel with scurf and salt rust, that soil will wreathe 
 your elms with laughing vines, that soil is fruitful in the olive, that you 
 will prove as you till it, to be both goodnatured to the cattle and able to 
 endure the crooked ploughshare. Such land rich Capua ploughs, and the 
 region near the heights of Vesuvius, and the stream of Clanius, unkind to 
 desolate Acerrae. 
 
 226 — 258. Various methods of ascertaining the nature of the soil. 
 Now I will tell by what means you can learn the nature of each soil. 
 You will need to know whether it be light or more than common close. 
 Because the one is adapted for corn, the other for the tree of Bacchus, 
 (the closer soil for Ceres, all particularly light soils for Lyseus) ; you must 
 first with the eye fix upon a spot, and bid that a pit be driven deep down 
 in solid earth, and put all the soil back into its place, and by treading 
 it in with the feet make level the surface of the ground. If it proves 
 not enough to fill the hollow, it will be a light soil, fittest as productive 
 land for grazing and the generous vine ; but if it shows plainly that it 
 cannot be put within its old space, and there is a superfluity of earth 
 when the trench is filled, that field is stiff soil ; look forward to reluctant 
 clods and tough ridges of land, and with strong teams of oxen cleave the 
 ground. But as for salty soil and that which is called bitter, (it is un- 
 favourable for the fruits of the earth, and never grows tame beneath the 
 plough, and preserves not the vine its lineage, nor the apple its title), 
 it will present the following mark : take you down with speed from the 
 smoky roof baskets of close-woven osier, and strainers of the wine-press ; 
 hither let the soil of that bad field, and sweet water from the spring, be 
 brought, and squeezed in up to the brim ; all the water will slowly ooze 
 out, you will see, and big drops will pass through the wicker-work ; then 
 the taste will unmistakeably give its evidence, and will distort with bitter 
 savour the wry mouths of those that try it. Likewise what ground is 
 rich, we learn, to be brief, in this way ; when shaken about in the hands, 
 it never crumbles, but like pitch cleaves to the fingers as it is handled. 
 The moist rears taller grass than other soils, and is in itself more prolific 
 than is good. Ah, may it be not too productive in my field, nor show 
 itself over-vigorous at the sprouting of the ear ! Soil that is heavy 
 silently betrays its character by its very weight, and so too that which is 
 light. 'Tis the work of a moment to recognise beforehand a black earth, 
 and what is the colour of what particular soil. But mischievous coldness 
 it is hard to find out ; only sometimes pitch-pines and baleful yews, or 
 gloomy ivy, disclose its track. 
 
4# VIRGIL. . [II. 259— 
 
 259 — 287. Instructions how to prepare the soil for a vineyard, and in 
 what order to plant the vines on plains and slopes. 
 
 When you have observed these points, remember first to thoroughly 
 season the land, and with trenches to break up great knolls of earth, first 
 to expose to the north wind the upturned clods, before you plant in the 
 pleasant race of the vine. Plots of friable soil are best; the winds make 
 that their business, and so do chill hoar-frosts, and the stout ditcher, who 
 loosens and stirs the acres. But if there be any men whom no precaution 
 escapes, they search out a tract alike in both its divisions ; one where 
 the stock of vines may be first prepared for its trees, and another, to which 
 it may afterwards be removed and planted out, lest the infants disown 
 a mother to whom they are suddenly exchanged. Moreover, they print 
 upon the bark the aspect of the tree, so as to restore each to the position 
 in which it has stood, according to the side on which it had faced the 
 southern heats, and as it has presented its back to the northern pole. To 
 form habits in early life has a force so very strong. 
 
 First inquire whether it be best to plant your vines on hills or level 
 ground. If it be the tract of a fertile plain that you measure out for the 
 vineyard, set close the vines ; in close array the wine-god is not less 
 vigorous and prolific ; but if you choose a plot with' sloping knolls and 
 gently-slanting hills, give free room to the ranks, and as before let every 
 avenue, as you plant the trees, with its straight-drawn line be exactly 
 even with the rest. As oft in mighty war, when the long-extended legion 
 has deployed its cohorts, and the line stands firm on the open plain, and 
 the battle-array is set, and all the land far and wide ripples with the flash 
 of* brass, and they do not yet mingle in the grisly turmoil of the fight, but 
 the god of battles undecided roams between the armies ; so let all the 
 lines of avenue be marked out in uniform numbers ; not only that the 
 view may satisfy the idle mind, but because in no other way the land will 
 bestow on all an equality of vigour, nor the boughs be able to reach forth 
 into free air. 
 
 288 — 314. The trenches for the vine and its supporter. Some practices 
 that should be avoided in planting a vineyard. 
 
 Perhaps you may also ask, what should be the depth of the trenches' 
 slope. I would venture to entrust a vine even to a shallow furrow. 
 Deeper, and thoroughly in earth, the tree is fixed,— the mast-tree foremost 
 of all, which extends its root to Tartarus, as far as it points its crown up to 
 the air of heaven. Therefore no winter's rage, no blasts nor storms, can 
 tear up it ; unmoved it abides, and in endurance conquers, as it rolls its 
 onward course, many generations of posterity, many cycles of men. Then 
 too, stretching far and wide its brawny boughs and arms on this side and 
 on that, itself the centre, it supports a mighty breadth of shade. Neither 
 let your vineyard slope towards the setting sun ; nor plant the hazel-tree 
 among your vines ; nor lop their topmost sprays, nor tear off cuttings from 
 the top of the tree ; so deep is the love they bear the earth ; nor with a 
 blunt knife hurt the tender plants; nor set in the vineyard wild-olive 
 stems. For often on the unwary swains a sudden fire breaks out ; which, 
 lurking concealed at first beneath the fruitful bark, gathers strength, and, 
 gliding in a moment to the leafy height, gives forth into heaven a mighty 
 
II. 352.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 49 
 
 roar ; then, running on, reigns a conqueror along the boughs, along the 
 loftiest tops, and envelopes all the grove in flames, and, crammed with 
 pitchy darkness, rolls to the sky a black tumbling cloud \ especially if a 
 tempest from the peak of heaven chance to lower upon the woods, and 
 a strong-blowing wind drives on the thickening fire. When this disaster 
 comes, the vines have no life left in their stock, and cannot revive again 
 by cutting, and, from the earth at their very roots, begin to bloom again 
 as they were before; the barren wild-olive with its bitter leaves alone 
 remains alive. 
 
 315—345. Plant your vines in the spring, the season when nature is 
 prolific j the season when the world itself must have been created. 
 
 And let no counsellor, however shrewd, persuade you to stir the stub- 
 born earth when Boreas blows. Then winter locks the fields with frost, 
 and suffers not the plant, when the young shoot is set, to foster its root 
 firmly and make it coalesce with the ground. 'Tis the best season for 
 planting a vineyard, when in the crimson springtime the white bird has 
 come, the trailing serpents' hated foe, or just before the autumn's earliest 
 chills, when the coursing sun reaches not yet the winter in his car, when 
 summer is passing away. The spring it is that ministers to the leafage 
 of the groves, and to the forests themselves as well; in spring the land 
 heaves with fruitfulness, and requires the procreative seed. Then 
 Heaven, the Almighty Father, comes down in fertilising showers into the 
 lap of his joyous bride, and in his might, mingling with her mighty frame, 
 nourishes every product. Then ring the thickets wild with tuneful birds, 
 and on their days the herds devote themselves to love; the bounteous 
 field gives birth to life, and beneath the west- wind's breezes warm the 
 meadows unloose their folds ; and all with delicate moisture overflow ; 
 and the herbage safely dares to trust itself to meet the new-born suns ; 
 and the tendrils of the vine fear not the rising of the South wind, or a 
 storm of rain driven from heaven by the North wind's might ; but put 
 forth buds, and unfold all their leaves. I would believe that even such 
 were the days that dawned at the first opening of the new-created world, 
 and such the course they kept ; 'twas spring-time then, the mighty globe 
 was passing a season of spring, and the Eastern gales restrained their 
 wintry blasts ; when the first cattle drank the daylight, and an iron brood 
 of men reared its head from the hard-bound fields ; and wild beasts were 
 admitted to the woods, and stars to the sky. And in truth the plants 
 would not be able to surmount their hardships here, did not such a time 
 of rest elapse between the cold and heat, and the gracious kindness of the 
 sky welcome the world to itself. 
 
 346 — 370. Instructions how to plaiit the young sets, to prepare supports 
 for the vines, and to restrain the luxuriance of the leaves. 
 
 For the rest, whatever trees you plant throughout the fields, strew them 
 with rich manure, and remember to cover them in with a mass of earth, 
 or bury porous stones or rough shells ; for the water will glide through 
 between them, and the delicate vapour will rise up, and the plants you 
 have set will revive their spirits ; and erewhile husbandmen have been 
 found, who overlaid them from above with a large stone, and a jar of 
 ponderous weight ; this would be a shield against pelting showers, and 
 
 VIR. 
 
SO VIRGIL. " [II. 353- 
 
 when the sultry dog-star cleaves the fields that gape with drought. When 
 the cuttings have been set, it remains to break up the soil repeatedly at 
 the roots, and still strike in the stubborn hoe, or to work the ground 
 beneath the print of the ploughshare, and drive the straining bullocks up 
 and down through the vineyard itself ; next, to fit the vines with smooth 
 wands, and lances of peeled rods, and ashen stakes, and stout forked 
 poles, that, relying on the strength of these, the plants may inure them- 
 selves to struggle hard, and scorn the winds, and form tier after tier 
 throughout the height of the elms. And when the early age of the young 
 leaves is growing to youth, the tender foliage must be spared, and while 
 the shoot is joyously speeding towards the sky, set free with loosened 
 reins through clear space, you must not venture yet to make the tree itself 
 feel the edge of the pruning-knife, but with your crooked hands must 
 pluck the leaves, and pick them here and there. After that, when in 
 time the tree has shot aloft, and clasps the elm with vigorous stem, then 
 strip the foliage, then crop the spreading boughs ; before that, they shrink 
 from the steel; then at last practise a stern command, and curb the 
 streaming branches. 
 371 — 397. Cattle and other animals must be kept away from the young 
 
 vines. The injury it does to the vine is the reason why the goat has 
 
 always been sacrificed to Bacchus. 
 .Moreover, you must twine fences of osier, and shut out all cattle, 
 especially while the tendril is delicate, and knows not the trials that await 
 it ; for, besides unfeeling winters and the overpowering sun, buffaloes of 
 the forest and persecuting roes ceaselessly insult it, and sheep make it 
 their food, and greedy heifers too. And indeed neither winter-cold with 
 its congealed hoar-frost, nor oppressive summer heat, that broods over 
 the parching rocks, do harm so great as those herds, and the poison of 
 their hard tooth, and the scar marked deep on the rind mangled with 
 their bite. For this very offence the goat is slaughtered to Bacchus at all 
 the altars, and the ancient games come upon the stage, and the sons of 
 Theseus set up the prize for genius about their villages and the corners of 
 their streets, and, amid the merriment of their cups, danced in the velvet 
 meadows on oiled goat-skins. Likewise the farmers of Ausonia, a race 
 sent forth from Troy, in uncouth verse and unchecked laughter play, 
 and put on hideous vizards wrought of hollowed bark, and sing thee, 
 O Bacchus, with joyful hymns, and in thy honour hang from the tall pine 
 tiny waving masks of thee. By the virtue of this every vineyard blooms 
 with large increase, deep vales and hollow dells are covered o r er, and all 
 lands, wbithersoe'er the god bears round his comely face. Therefore in 
 our "national hymns we will duly ascribe to Bacchus his proper praise, 
 and will offer to him chargers and cakes ; and the doomed he-goat, led 
 by the horn, shall stand beside the altar, and the fat entrails we will roast 
 on spits of hazel-wood. 
 397 — 419. The labour of dressing the vine is great; and even when that 
 
 is over you will still have to fear the injury that storms may do. 
 There is also the other toil of dressing the vines, whereon you cannot 
 spend enough of pains ; for thrice or four times every year you must 
 cleave open all the ground, and endlessly break the clods with the back 
 
II.447-] THE GEORGICS. 5 1 
 
 of the hoe ; you must lighten the grove of every leaf. The labour of the 
 husbandman, prolonged into a round, comes back to him, even as the 
 year, passing over its own footprints, rolls back upon itself. And even 
 at the time when the vineyard has cast its latest leaves, and the North- 
 wind has swept away the glory from the woods, even then the diligent 
 rustic extends his care into the coming year, and plying Saturn's crooked 
 knife, with ceaseless cropping persecutes anew the vine he has left, and by 
 pruning moulds it to his pleasure. Be the first to dig the ground, the 
 first to carry home and burn the vine-boughs you have lopped away, and 
 the first to convey the poles within the shelter of the roof: be the latest 
 to reap the produce. Twice thickens the shade of vines ; wild plants 
 with thronging briars twice obstruct the crop: to deal with each of these 
 is heavy toil. Praise great estates; cultivate a small one. Moreover, 
 rough twines of butchers' broom amid the wood, and river-reeds on the 
 bank, have to be cut, and the tending of the wild willow forces you to 
 toil. Now the vines are bound, now the vineyard allows the pruning- 
 knife to rest, now the last dresser sings of the completed files : still must 
 you vex the soil, and stir the dust, and fear lest the storms of Jove light 
 on your grapes when fully ripe. 
 
 420—425. The rearing of olives is on the contrary an easy task. 
 
 On the other hand, no tending is needed for olive-trees ; and they look 
 not for the crooked pruning-knife and the mattock that grapples with the 
 ground, when once they have fastened on the field, and learnt to bear the 
 gales ; the earth of itself, if it be laid open with the curved tooth of the 
 share, gives moisture enough to the plants when set, and teeming crops 
 with the help of the plough alone. Thus nurse the olive, plump, and 
 pleasing to Peace. 
 
 426 — 457. Fruit-trees are also hardy. Description of various forest- 
 trees. They are in so?ne points eve7i worthier than the vine. 
 
 Fruit-trees too, so soon as they feel that their boles are strong, and 
 when they have gained their proper vigour, with bounds aspire to heaven 
 by force innate, and need no help from us. And not the less, meanwhile, 
 every wood grows heavy with its weight of produce, and the wild haunts 
 of the birds are crimsoned with blood-red berries. The lucerne is cropped 
 by the steer, the lofty forest presents its pine-brands, and so fires by night 
 are fed, and shed forth their light. And are men then slow to plant, and 
 lavish care? Why should I search for greater themes? The willow and 
 the humble broom, — why, they either supply leaves to the herd, or shade 
 to the shepherd, and a fence for the sown crops, and food for the making 
 of honey. And pleasant it is to view Cytorus with its waving box-groves, 
 and Narycium's woods of pitch-pine; pleasant it is to look on fields that 
 owe nought to the mattock, nought to the care of man. Even the un- 
 fruitful forests on the crown of Caucasus, which passionate Eastern blasts 
 constantly break and wreck, give their produce, each according to its 
 kind, give serviceable timber, for ships the pine, for houses the cedar and 
 the cypress ; from them husbandmen turn spokes for their wheels, and 
 rollers for their waggons, and fit the vessel with its curving kee] ; in 'its 
 osier is the virtue of the willow, that of the elm in its leaves ; but the 
 myrtle excels in its strong spear-like wands, and so does the cornel good 
 
 4—2 
 
52 . VIRGIL. [II. 44 8— 
 
 for war; the yew is bent into the Ituraean bow; likewise, smooth linden- 
 trees, or the box oft shaven with the lathe, adapt themselves to a new 
 shape, and are hollowed with the sharp steel; likewise the light alder 
 swims upon the pouring flood, sped down the Po ; likewise bees house 
 their swarms in the bark of hollow trees, and the cavity of a decayed 
 ilex-tree. What so notable as this have the gifts of Bacchus produced? 
 Bacchus too has given causes for offence ; 'twas he who tamed with death 
 the infuriate Centaurs, Rhcetus, and Pholus, and Hylaeus, that with a 
 ponderous wine-bowl menaced the Lapithae. 
 
 45.8 — 474. The happiness of a husbandman's life. 
 O husbandmen, too dear to Fortune, if they know their own blessed- 
 ness! For them of herself, far from the clash of arms, all-righteous 
 Earth pours from her soil an easy sustenance. If no high mansion with 
 proud portals discharge from all the palace its huge tide of early visitants, 
 if they never stare at door-posts variously inlaid with beauteous tortoise- 
 shell, and dresses tricked with gold, and statues of Corinthian brass, and 
 if white wool is not stained with the Assyrian drug, nor the usefulness of 
 the olive's fair oil adulterated with casia ; yet, repose without a care, and 
 a life that knows not what disappointment is, a life enriched with manifold 
 treasures; yet ease with wide domains, caverns, and living lakes, and 
 Tempe's cool vale, and the lowing of oxen, and soft slumber beneath the 
 trees, are theirs ; with them are woodland glades and the wild-beasts' 
 haunt, and a band of youths inured to toil, and accustomed to little ; the 
 sacred rites of Heaven, and reverend sires : Justice, as she departed from 
 earth, planted among them her latest footsteps. 
 
 475—542. The praise of science. If I may not be the philosopher of 
 nature, let me lead a secluded country life, far from the crimes and 
 - . 7iiiseries of the world. Such was the life of the old Romans in hap- 
 pier times of peace a7id simplicity. The conclusion. 
 For myself, may the lovely Muses first above all else, they whose mys- 
 teries I bear, smitten with o'erwhelming passion, take me to themselves, 
 and show me the paths of heaven, and its stars, the various eclipses of 
 the sun and labours of the moon, from whence the earthquake springs, 
 by what force it is that deep seas learn to swell and burst their barriers, 
 and again of themselves sink back into their place ; why winter suns 
 make so much haste to dip in Ocean, or what obstacle it is that clogs the 
 course of the lingering nights. But if, to prevent me from having the 
 power to approach these regions of nature, chill blood around my heart 
 shall prove a barrier, may the fields of the country delight me, and the 
 streams that water the valleys ; rivers and forests may I love, all inglorious 
 though I be. Oh, where are those plains, and the stream of Spercheus, 
 and Taygetus haunted by the revels of Spartan maids ! Oh, who will 
 set me down in the cool dells of Hsemus, and shield me with the branches' 
 boundless shade ! Happy is he who has been able to learn the causes of 
 things, and has cast beneath his feet all fears, and inexorable Fate, and 
 the roar of greedy Acheron ! Blest too is he who knows the rural gods, 
 Pan, and Silvanus old, and sister-nymphs ! Not him the fasces of the 
 Roman People, nor the monarch's purple can sway, and the discord that 
 drives brethren to mutual treachery, or the Dacian sweeping down from 
 
II. 54*.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 53 
 
 his confederated Danube, nor the Roman state, and the kingdoms doomed 
 to fall; and never is he pained through pity for him that is destitute, or 
 envies him that has great possessions. Those fruits that the boughs 
 afford, the fruits that of itself, of its own free will, the country bears, he 
 gathers; and has never seen laws carved on steel, and the maddening 
 forum, or the archives of the Roman People. Other men vex with oars 
 the perilous seas, and rush to take the sword ; they press their way into 
 courts and through kingly portals : one assails with ruin a city and its 
 hapless household gods, that he may drink from a jewelled cup, and sleep 
 on Tyrian purple ; another hoards up wealth, and broods over the gold 
 he has buried in the earth ; one is amazed and dazzled at the eloquence 
 of the Rostra ; one the applause of commons and patricians, redoubled 
 as it is along the rows of the theatre, sets agape with the shock of joy; 
 some delight to steep themselves in brothers' blood, and exchange for 
 a place of exile their homes and pleasant thresholds, and seek a father- 
 - land that lies beneath another sun. The husbandman with his crooked 
 plough furrows the soil ; from this comes the work for the year ; by this 
 he maintains his country and little grandsons, by this his herds of oxen, 
 and his bullocks that have served him well. And there is never a time 
 of rest ; for either in fruits the season richly abounds, or in the offspring 
 of cattle, or in the sheaf of Ceres' stalk, and loads the furrows with 
 increase, and overflows the barns. Then winter comes; in the olive- 
 mill is bruised the berry of Sieyon, the swine come home, well satisfied 
 with mast, the forest gives the fruit of the arbutus, and Autumn drops 
 his various produce, and on the sunny cliffs the mellowing vintage basks. 
 
 Meanwhile his dear children hang about his lips, his stainless house 
 preserves its purity ; his cows hang down their udders fraught with milk, 
 and fat kids on the smiling lawn with levelled horns against each other 
 strive. The sire himself keeps holy-day, and stretched along the grass, 
 where is a kindled altar in the midst, and his companions wreathe the : 
 wine-bowl, with a libation invokes thee, O Father of the wine-press, and 
 for the masters of his cattle sets upon an elm the target, for a match at 
 the flying dart ; and their wondrous hardy limbs they strip for the rustic 
 wrestling bout. This life of yore the antique Sabines lived, and Remus 
 too, and his brother ; so, I ween, brave Etruria grew, and Rome became 
 the beauty of the world ; and, one within herself, encompassed with her 
 bulwarks seven heights. Likewise, before the Cretan king held sceptred 
 sway, and before an impious age banquetted on slaughtered bullocks, this 
 was the life that Saturn passed on earth, the monarch of the golden age ; 
 nor yet too had they heard the clarion blare, nor sword-blades ring, when 
 placed on anvils hard. 
 
 But we in our career have traversed o'er a vast expanse of plain, and 
 now 'tis time to loosen from the yoke our horses' smoking necks. 
 
54 VIRGIL. [III. i— 
 
 BOOK III. . 
 
 I — 48. Cattle is the subject of the third Georgic. The fabulous 
 
 subject of the Greeks are trite. The Roman poet will bring the 
 
 Muses from Helicon, and some day sing of the glories of Caesar 
 
 Augustus. 
 
 Thee too, great Pales, and thee Shepherd from the river Amphrysus, 
 
 worthy of all remembrance, will we praise in verse ; ye too woods 
 
 and rivers of Lycaeus. Other subjects, which might have charmed 
 
 the idle fancy with song, are trite and common now. Who knows 
 
 not of Eurystheus, master hard, and the altars of infamous Busiris? 
 
 By whom has not the boy Hylas been sung, and Delos, Latona's isle, 
 
 and Hippodame, and Pelops distinguished by his ivory shoulder, the 
 
 driver of the fiery steeds? I too must essay a way by which I may 
 
 raise myself from the lowly ground, and fly triumphant through the 
 
 mouths of men. I first of all as one returning to my country, if life 
 
 be spared, will bring again the Muses from the Roman peak ; first 
 
 of all I will bear back with me the goodly palms of Edom to thee, 
 
 Mantua, and an the green grassy plain will build a marble temple 
 near the water's edge, where mighty Mincius wanders on with slowly 
 winding curves, fringing the bank with waving reed. In the centre 
 
 1 will have Caesar's image stand, the god who guards my shrine ; in 
 his honour I as conqueror conspicuous in Tyrian purple will drive 
 a hundred four-horse chariots by the water's side ; with one consent 
 will all Greece for my sake leave the Alpheus, and the groves of 
 Molorchus, and contend in the race and with cestus of raw hide. 
 I myself, my head decked with leafy crown of trimmed olive, will 
 offer gifts to heaven. E'en now I joy to lead the solemn procession 
 to the shrine and to behold the sacrifice of steers ; or to see how the 
 scene shifts with changing face, and how r the Britons woven in the 
 tapestry raise the purple curtain. On the doors will I represent in 
 gold and solid ivory the battle of the Gangaridae, and the arms of our 
 victorious Quirinus ; and here shall appear the Nile, whose billows 
 threaten war, whose stream flows proudly, and the columns rising with 
 naval brass. Then I will add Asia's vanquished towns, and Niphates 
 defeated in war, and the Parthian, whose trust is in his flight, and 
 arrows backv/ard shot, and two trophies taken by a strong hand from 
 foes in opposite quarters of the world, nations twain each triumphed 
 over on either shore. There shall stand too statues of Parian marble, 
 as though with life and breath, the race of Assaracus, and the honoured 
 names of the stock descended from Jove, Tros our parent, and he of 
 Cynthus founder of Troy. Ill-omened Envy shall dread the Furies, 
 and stern river of Cocytus, and the twisted snakes of Ixion, and the 
 monstrous wheel, and the stone that cannot be pushed over the ridge. 
 Meanwhile let us now pursue the theme of the Dryads' groves and 
 glades, regions of song as yet untouched, no easy tasks, but thy behest, 
 Mecaenas. Without thee my heart inaugurates nought that is lofty ; 
 come then awake, away with sloth and delay ; with clamours loud 
 
III. 92.] THE GEORGICS. 55 
 
 Cithseron invites us, and hounds of Taygetus call, and Epidaurus tamer 
 of horses ; and the call repeated by the assenting groves re-echoes 
 the cry. And yet hereafter will I gird myself to sing the fiery fights 
 of Caesar, and to bear the great name of Csesar through as many years 
 as he is distant in descent from his first origin from Tithonus. 
 49 — 71. Carefully should we choose our cattle for breedmg, as to 
 
 form and age. It is the law of the world that the best conies first, 
 
 the worst last. 
 Whether one admires the prizes of the Olympian palm, and breeds 
 horses, or whether rather bullocks able to draw the plough, with 
 special care must one choose the bodies of the mothers. That cow 
 has the best form, whose look is lowering, head ugly, neck thick, whose 
 dewlaps hanging from the chin reach to the very knees. Then her 
 side should be long past the usual measure, every point large, large 
 foot, large hairy ears under the crumpled horns. Nor do I dislike 
 one marked with spots of white, or one that tosses off the yoke and 
 at times is awkward with her horn, whose face is not so unlike a bulPs, 
 whose form is all tall, and who, as • she steps, sweeps her tracks with 
 the end of her tail. The right age for Lucina and regular marriage 
 begins after four, to end before ten years ; the rest of the life of cattle 
 is neither fit for breeding nor strong to draw the plough. Meantime, 
 ere joyous youth is past to the herds, loose the bulls, be first to send 
 your cattle to breed, and supply a succession of the stock by genera- 
 tion. Each goodliest day of life to suffering mortals flies first, diseases 
 soon steal on, and sad old age, and decay, and cruel inexorable death 
 sweeps life away. There will always be some, whose breed you may 
 wish to change, so always repair your loss ; and lest you miss them when 
 too late, anticipate the time, and choose a new stock for the herd year 
 by year. 
 72—102. Be careful too about the choice of horses. You must observe 
 
 shape, colour, agej so will you have horses like the famous ones 
 
 of olde?i time. 
 
 Likewise in breeding horses the same careful choice is needed. So 
 do you even from their tender years give special attention to those 
 whom you settle to use in the hope of the increase of your stock. 
 From his earliest years the colt of a noble breed steps higher o'er the 
 fields, and with alternate tread moves on elastic feet ; he dares the 
 first to lead the way, he tempts threatening rivers, he trusts himself 
 on an unknown bridge, he starts not at idle noises. Lofty is his 
 shoulder, pointed his head, short belly, broad back ; his chest, as though 
 full of spirit, rises luxuriant with knots of muscle : of a good breed 
 are bay and grey : the worst colour is white and dun. Then if any 
 arms clash afar, he cannot stand still, he pricks his ears, his limbs 
 quiver, he rolls in his nostrils the close collected flame : thick is his 
 mane; if tossed, it will lie on his right shoulder: a double spine runs 
 straight along his loins, his hoof hollows the ground, and gives a 
 deep sound with the solid horn. Such was Cyllarus, whom Laconian 
 Pollux tamed with reins, and the steeds of whom Grecian poets tell, 
 the pair of the chariot of Mars and of great Achilles. Such too did 
 
56 VIRGIL. [III. 93- 
 
 Saturn himself seem, when at the coming of his spouse, as a nimble 
 steed, he threw a mane from his neck, and flying filled the height of 
 Pelion with his shrill neighings. Yet even such a horse as this, when 
 wasted with disease, or sluggish through age he fails, put aside at 
 home, nor spare his ignoble old age. The old horse is frigid, in vain 
 he strives at a thankless toil, and if ever he comes to the battle, his 
 rage is fruitless, as when a fire burns in stubble, and its force is spent. 
 Therefore above all note their spirit and years ; next observe their other 
 qualities, the race of their sires, and how each chafes at defeat, or glories 
 in the prize. 
 
 103 — 122. Great is the exciteineiit, the glory, the antiquity of the chariot- 
 race. The art of riding too traces back to heroes of old. But any how 
 youth is necessary in horses. 
 
 See you not, when in headlong contests chariots course o'er the cham- 
 paign, and pouring from the barriers onwards rapid rush, when the 
 youthful charioteers are on the tip-toe of expectation, and thrilling excite- 
 ment draws the blood of their beating hearts ; they ply the twisted lash, 
 bending forward they slacken their reins ; with force flies the glowing 
 axle ; now low depressed, • then reared aloft, they seem to be borne 
 through the open air, and to rise to the sky ; no rest, no respite, whilst 
 a storm of yellow sand is raised ; they are wet with the foam and breath 
 of the horses that follow. So deep is their passion for renown, so dear is 
 triumph to their hearts. First of all men Ericthonius dared to yoke four 
 steeds to the chariot, and victorious to take his stand above the whirling 
 wheels. The Thessalian Lapithae mounted on the horse's back invented 
 the bit and how to turn in circles, teaching the armed rider how to 
 manage his horse bounding in the plain and proudly prancing in many a 
 mazy tread. Equal was either labour ; equally do the trainers seek out a 
 young horse, high in spirit, keen to run, and that too although a horse 
 has often driven before him the foe in flight, and counts back in descent 
 from Epirus and valiant Mycenae, nay may trace his origin back to Nep- 
 tune himself the founder of his race. 
 
 123 — 156. Horses should be well fattened, mares kept thin, but after- 
 wards they should be kept quiet, and protected from the gad-fly. 
 This being well observed, men are careful as the time draws near, and 
 give all heed to fill out with firm fat him whom they have chosen as leader 
 and husband of the herd : and cut flowering grasses, and supply running 
 water, and corn, lest he should fail in the pleasant toil, and lest the weak- 
 ness of the foals repeat the ill condition of their sires. But the mares on 
 the other hand they purposely make spare and lean, and when the time 
 for breeding is drawing nigh, then they stint their leafy fodder, and keep 
 them from the springs, often too harass them with galloping, and fatigue 
 them in the hot sun, during the hours that the floor gives the heavy sound 
 of the threshing of corn, and to rising Zephyrs the empty chaff is tossed. 
 Presently on the contrary the care of the sires relaxes, and that of the 
 dams succeeds. When their months are fulfilled and they wander 
 during their pregnancy, let no one suffer them to bear the yokes of heavy 
 wagons, or to bound across the road, or to scour the fields in swift course, 
 or to stem strong torrents. Let them feed at large in glades, by the 
 
III. 192.] THE GE0RG1CS. ' 57 
 
 margin of full streams, where grows the moss, and the bark is green with 
 turf ; where grottos may give them shelter, and rocks cast forward their 
 shade. About the groves of Silarus and Alburnus, where holm-oaks 
 flourish, an insect flies often, we Romans call it asilus, the Greeks gave 
 it another name, cestros ; a stinging fly, whizzing with sharp sound, 
 thereat terrified all the herds scatter in flight through the woods ; shaken 
 and stirred to madness is the sky by the bellowings, the forests and 
 banks of dry Tanager resound. This is the monster which Juno once 
 sent to glut her dreadful wrath, devising a plague for the Inachian 
 heifer. This insect, for in the mid-day heat its attacks are fiercest, keep 
 from your pregnant cattle, and feed your herds when the sun is fresh 
 risen, or the stars usher in the night. 
 
 157 — 178. After calvmgy care for your calves chiefly. Yoic cannot begin 
 too gently : youth requires gentle treatment. 
 After the birth to the calves must pass all your care : and from the 
 first the herdsmen brand them with marks and the name of the stock, 
 that they may know which they mean to keep for breeding, which for 
 victims at the altars, with which to cut the land, and break the clods and 
 turn up the rough plain. The other cattle graze in the green grass ; 
 those whom you would fashion to rural use and end, train whilst still 
 calves, and enter on the way of taming them ; the spirits of the young 
 are pliant, their age still docile. And first about their necks fasten loose 
 circles of slender osier : presently, when they have accustomed the 
 freedom of their necks to bondage, unite the bullocks just by their 
 collars, and yoke them fairly matched, and force them to step in time. 
 Next let them often draw o'er the ground the wheels of an empty cart, 
 and lightly touch with the marks of their footsteps the surface of the dust. 
 Afterwards let the beechen axle labouring under the ponderous weight 
 creak, and a brazen pole drag the -wheels of the wagon. Meanwhile give 
 the untamed bullocks not grass merely, or the leaves of willows, sorry 
 food, or the sedge of the fen, but spare not to pluck for them the corn ; 
 nor, as in the days of your fathers, let your cows after calving fill your 
 pails with milk as white as snow, but let them consume all that their 
 udders give on their beloved young. 
 
 179 — 208. By gentle and spare treatment you may rear a colt to be as 
 swift as the north wind, a good racer, a good draught-horse. 
 But if your taste be war and martial troops, or your passion is to fly 
 swift on whirling wheels beside Alpheus Pisa's stream, and in Jove's holy 
 wood to drive the speeding car, remember that what the horse must first 
 be taught with difficulty is to face steadily the arms of bold warriors, and 
 to bear the trumpet's voice, and fearless to pull the car rattling as it is 
 drawn, and to hear the noise of the bit in the stable : then more and 
 more to rejoice in the flattery and praises of his trainer, and to love the 
 noise of the patting of his neck. Let him hear these noises as soon as 
 ever he is weaned from his dam, and in time let him accustom his 
 mouth to soft bits, whilst still unsteady, still trembling, still untrained and 
 young. But when three summers are past and the fourth is just come, 
 let him learn to run in the circle, and to prance with regular steps in 
 measure, and let him curvet with his legs moving in time, as one that 
 
58 VIRGIL. [III. 193— 
 
 seems to have a work to do ; so let him challenge the gales in race, and 
 skimming over the open plain, as though free from reins, scarcely let him 
 set the marks of his feet on the surface of the sand. As when a steady 
 north-wind comes down from Hyperborean coasts, scattering the storms 
 of Scythia and the dry clouds ; the tall corn and waving fields are ruffled 
 with the gentle blasts, and the tops of the trees of the forest roar, and 
 long waves press onwards to the shore ; the wind flies sweeping in its 
 course over fields and seas alike. Such a horse as this will sweat at the 
 goal and long courses of the stadium of Elis, and will champ the bloody 
 foam ; or else will better bear the yoke of the Belgic chariot on his 
 obedient neck. Then and not till then, when they are fully tamed, allow 
 their bodies to become plump on thickly mixed food ; for till they are 
 tamed, they will raise their spirits high, and when caught will disdain to 
 endure the tough lash, and to obey the hard bits. 
 
 209 — 265. Keep your horses and bulls from love. Fierce are the battles 
 of bulls. All animals are maddened by love; even man himself 
 But there is no industry and care that so confirms their strength, 
 as to keep away from them love and the excitement of a blind passion ; 
 whether the practice of rearing horses, or steers, is preferred. There- 
 fore the bulls are banished to a distance into lonely pastures behind 
 intervening hills, and across broad rivers, or shut up in stables at full 
 mangers. For the sight of the female little by little steals away the bull's 
 strength, and consumes him with passion, nor allows him to remember 
 the groves and the grass. Her power lies in her sweet blandishments, 
 often does she force her proud lovers to decide their claims by the battle 
 of their horns. In great Sila feeds a fair heifer ; the bulls in contest 
 engage with mighty force, dealing each other many a wound ; they are 
 bathed in black blood ; as they strive with mighty bellowings their horns 
 are driven against each other, the woods and great Olympus echo back 
 the roar. Nor will the warriors make their lair together ; but the con- 
 quered combatant withdraws, and at a distance passes an exile's life in 
 unknown lands, much does he lament his disgrace, and the blows of the 
 haughty victor, and his lost love, and his unavenged defeat, and with his 
 gaze fixed on the stalls departs from his ancestral realms. Therefore 
 diligently does he train his powers, and makes his bed on hard stones, 
 and lies there all the night long, his food rough leaves and sharp-pointed 
 sedge ; then he makes trial of his strength, and learns how to throw his 
 wrath into his horns, pushing at the trunk of a tree, and with blows 
 defies the winds, and spurns the sand, the prelude of the fray. Pre- 
 sently his strength is collected, and his powers recruited, then for the 
 fight he starts, and headlong rushes on the unguarded foe : just as when 
 a wave first whitens out in the open sea, far away from the shore, and 
 even from the deep onwards draws its heaving curve ; then rolling to 
 the land over the rocks roars dreadful, and breaks in tumbling mass 
 not less than a mighty mountain ; the water surges up from beneath in 
 eddies, and casts on high the dark sand. So true is it that every kind 
 of living creatures in the earth, men and beasts alike, and the race that 
 dwell in the sea, cattle and birds with painted plumage, are hurried 
 into the frenzy and flames of passion ; all feel love alike. Then and 
 
III. 292.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 59 
 
 at no other time does the lioness forget her cubs, and in fiercest mood 
 prowl o'er the plain ; nor do misshapen bears at other seasons make 
 so much havoc and destruction in the forests ; then is the wild boar 
 savage, then is the tiger man's worst foe: alas, and then 'tis ill to 
 wander in the deserts of Libya. See you not how a trembling thrills the 
 bodies of horses all over, if their snuffing does but bring the familiar 
 scent ? And then no longer do bits stop their course, or the violent 
 lashes of their drivers, or cliffs or hollow rocks, or the barrier of rivers 
 whirling crags hurried down their torrent. On rushes the great Sabine 
 boar whetting his tusks, with his foot he roots up the ground before him, 
 he rubs his sides hither and thither against a tree, he hardens his shoul- 
 ders to endure wounds. Need I mention the youth in whose heart cruel 
 love stirs up a mighty fire of passion ? See how, late in a dark night, he 
 swims the strait troubled by bursting storms ; above him thunders the 
 great portal of heaven, and the cry of the waters dashing against the 
 cliffs warns him back ; nor can his wretched parents recall him home, or 
 the maiden who will not bear to outlive his cruel death. Need I tell of 
 the spotted ounces, the team of Bacchus, or the fierce race of wolves and 
 dogs, or of the battles fought by unwarlike stags ? 
 
 266 — 283. No ani?nals, however, so furious as mares ; it is as if Venus 
 herself possessed them. They say the Zephyrs impregnate them. Won- 
 drous is the magic power of the hippoimmes. 
 
 But doubtless the rage of mares is above that of all other creatures ; 
 Venus herself inspires their passion, from the day that the four Potnian 
 steeds devoured the limbs of their charioteer Glaucus with their jaws. 
 Love leads mares beyond Gargarus, and across the roaring Ascanius ; 
 they pass the ridges of mountains, they swim across streams. And as 
 soon as ever their kindled hearts have caught the flame, in spring chiefly, 
 for in spring warmth returns to the limbs, they all stand on high rocks 
 with their faces turned to catch the Zephyr, and snuff the light breezes, 
 and often without wedlock are impregnated by the wind, (marvellous to 
 tell), then o'er rocks, o'er cliffs, along lowly dales, they fly hither and 
 thither ; but not towards thee, Eurus, nor towards the rising of the 
 Sun; but towards Boreas and Caurus, or towards the quarter whence 
 blows dusky Auster, saddening the heavens with chilly rain. Hence at 
 last a slimy substance distils from their sides, which the shepherds call 
 by a true name Hippomanes, gathered often by malicious step-mothers, 
 who mix with it herbs and baneful charms. 
 
 284 — 294. Let this suffice for herds; now we will sing of sheep and 
 
 goats. 'Tis an humble subject, but origiiial, and I ani smitten with 
 
 the love of it. 
 
 Meanwhile time flies, yes, flies with irreparable speed, whilst we linger 
 
 on each detail, charmed with the love of song. Let this suffice for herds ; 
 
 the second part of my task remains, to teach men how to tend fleecy 
 
 flocks and shaggy goats. This too is laborious ; hence also hope for 
 
 honour, sturdy husbandmen. Nor do I feel any doubt that it is arduous 
 
 to overcome this difficulty by my style, and to add dignity to such a 
 
 lowly theme. But the sweet love of song hurries me o'er the lonely 
 
 steeps of Parnassus. I rejoice to pass the ridges, where no beaten road 
 
60 VIRGIL. [III. *9.f- 
 
 of former bards turns aside to Castalia by an easy descent. Now, 
 honoured Pales, now must I sing in lofty speech. 
 
 295 — 337. We must care for sheep in winter, for goats too, a flock not 
 less valuable, independent, a?id hardy. When spring conies let them 
 feed in early ?norn, have water and shelter in ?nidday, feed again in 
 cool evening. 
 With authority I decree first that the sheep should feed on herbage in 
 their soft pen^, while in its turn comes leafy summer back : beneath make 
 a bed on the hard ground of thick stubble and handfuls of fern, lest the 
 chilling frost hurt the tender flock, bringing scab and unsightly gout. 
 Next in order I direct that the goats be bountifully supplied with leafy 
 arbutus, and fresh water from the streams ; and I wish the pens to be 
 turned from the wind to face the wintry mid-day sun, when the time 
 comes that chilly Aquarius is just setting, sprinkling from his watering- 
 pot the close of the year. With no less care should our goats be tended, 
 nor less their use ; however great the price Milesian fleeces fetch, when 
 steeped in Tyrian dye. Goats are more prolific ; milk they give in plen- 
 teous abundance; the more the milk-pail froths from their emptied ud- 
 ders, so more freely flow the joyous streams of milk from their pressed 
 dugs. Meanwhile no less the goatherd shears the grey beard from the 
 chin of the Libyan he-goat, and clips his thick shaggy hair, for the use of 
 camps, and for the coats of needy mariners. Then they are content to 
 feed in woods and on the very peaks of Lycaeus, and browse on prickly 
 briars and on bushes that love steep heights ; and unbidden remember to 
 return home, guides to their young, with udders so full that they can 
 hardly step o'er the threshold. Therefore as less they need the care of 
 man, do you with all diligence keep from them frost and snowy winds, 
 glad to bring them provender and twigs to feed on, and have your hay- 
 lofts open all the winter long. But then, as soon as summer rejoicing in 
 the Zephyrs 7 call, sends either flock unto the lawns and pastures, then let 
 us at the earliest rising of the day-star take our pleasure in the cool 
 country, whilst the dawn is fresh, whilst the grass is white with hoar-frost, 
 whilst the dew on the tender herb is most grateful to the cattle. Presently, 
 when the fourth hour of the day has collected the thirsty heat of the sky, 
 and the plaintive grasshoppers seem to burst the trees of the vineyard with 
 their chirping song, do you bid your flocks at the wells or deep ponds drink 
 the water running in oaken troughs : but in the heat of noon see that 
 they carefully seek a shady dell, where a mighty oak, Jove's tree, stretches 
 its huge branches from an ancient trunk, or where a dark grove of thickly 
 planted holm-oaks casts forward its holy shade. Then once more give 
 them liquid running water, and again let them feed even to the setting 
 sun ; when the hour comes that the cool evening freshens the air, and 
 the dewy moon gives the lawns new life, when the shores echo to the 
 voice of the halcyon, and the bushes are alive with the song of the 
 goldfinch. 
 
 338 — 383. Very different are the scenes in Africa and 171 Scythia ; 
 in the 07ie regio7i the cattle feed for months in the boundless plains j 
 in the other they are kept in stalls, for winter and ice are all arounc, 
 and men live in holes of the earth. 
 
III. 388.] THE GEORGICS. 6 1 
 
 Why need I pursue the theme of Libya's shepherds and pastures, 
 and villages of huts with thinly scattered roofs ? Often day and night, 
 yea, a whole month long, day after day the flocks feed, and the cattle 
 go on into the far extending wilderness, where there is no host to 
 entertain ; so far the vast plain stretches. The African herdsman takes 
 all his property with him, his home, his gods, his stuff, his Spartan 
 dog, his Cretan quiver. Just as the Roman soldier under the arms 
 of his country's service marches onwards beneath a cumbrous load, 
 and before the foe expects him, e'en as he marches on, his camp is 
 pitched, and fixed for fight. Far other is the scene, where are the 
 tribes of Scythia, and the lake Maso.tis, where turbid Ister rolls his 
 yellow sands, where Rhodope bends and stretches under the middle 
 of the pole. There close they keep their herds in stalls ; no grass is 
 seen on the plain, no leaves on trees; but the earth lies shapeless 
 under drifts of snow, a wide deep frozen mass, rising seven ells in 
 height. Eternal winter reigns, and north-west winds ever coldly 
 blow. Never does the sun dispel the dull pale mists, neither when 
 riding in his car he mounts the lofty sky, nor when he bathes his 
 fast-descending chariot in the red surface of the ocean. Suddenly 
 crusts of ice form on the running stream, and now the water bears 
 iron-bound wheels on its expanse, once the home of ships, now of 
 broad wagons. Brass splits everywhere, clothes stiffen on men's backs, 
 with hatchets they cleave liquid wine, whole tanks turn into solid ice, 
 the pointed icicle hardens on uncombed beards. Meanwhile the snow- 
 flakes never cease to fall in the whole sky ; the cattle perish, the 
 mighty forms of oxen are seen standing encased in frozen snow, and 
 crowded herds of stags grow numb under the strange mass, above 
 it hardly rise the tips of their horns. Men hunt them not with hounds 
 slipped from the leash, nor entrap them with nets, nor frighten them 
 with the terrors of the crimson feather ; but as the creatures vainly 
 with their breasts push against the bulwark of the snow, the hunters 
 standing close stab them, and slay them braying with deep cries, then 
 joyously carry them home with loud shouts. There do the people 
 dwell in deep-dug holes low down in the earth, at ease and free 
 from care, they heap up logs of heart of oak, and roll whole elms 
 to the hearth and give them to the flames. Here they pass the night 
 in games, and for cups of wine make shift with beer and the cider 
 of sour service-berries. Such are those who live under Charles' wain, 
 a race of wild savage men, buffeted by the Riphasan east wind, clothed 
 in the shaggy tawny skins of cattle. 
 384 — 403. If wool is your object, (and wool tempted a goddess), keep 
 
 your flock from certain food, and have 110 rams but white ones: if 
 
 you set yottr heart on milk, give salt food, and you will have cheese, 
 
 when you want it, for sale, or to be kept. 
 
 If wool be your care, first see that your land is free of burrs and 
 caltrops ; eschew rich pastures, and from the very first pick out fpr 
 your flocks those that are white with soft wool. A ram, who is to 
 be master of your flock, though he be of the brightest white, yet if 
 his tongue only be black under his moist palate, reject him, lest he 
 
62 VIRGIL. [III. 389— 
 
 darken the fleeces of the lambs at their birth with black spots, and 
 do you look round the well-stocked field to find another. Thus with 
 snow-white wool, if to believe the tale insults not the gods, Pan, Arcadia's 
 god, beguiled thee, O Moon, charmed with the gift, inviting thee to 
 the deep groves, nor didst thou scorn the invitation. But he who 
 loves milk should with his own hand bring lucerne and lotus in 
 abundance, and salt herbs to their cribs. Hence they love the rivers 
 more, and more distend their udders, and one can trace a slight taste 
 of salt in the milk. Many keep the kids from their dams as soon as 
 they are born, and put muzzles with iron spokes on their mouths. What 
 at sun-rise or in the hours of the day they milk, that at night they press ; 
 again what they milk at night or as the sun goes down, at day-break 
 the shepherd carries in baskets to the town, or they sprinkle it slightly 
 with salt and store it up for winter. 
 
 404 — 413. Dogs are useful both to guard your hotise and to hunt in 
 
 the fields. 
 Nor should the care of dogs be last ; but together feed on rich 
 whey the swift hounds of Sparta and the fierce Molossian ; with these 
 for guards you need never dread for your fold the thief at night, or 
 the attack of wolves, or restless robber coming on you from behind. 
 Often too coursing you will pursue the timorous wild asses, with dogs 
 too hunt the hares, with dogs the does ; often with the baying hounds 
 you will raise the wild boars forth from their woody beds wherein 
 they wallow, and over the high hills with huntsman's cry drive a huge 
 stag into the nets. 
 
 414 — 439. By fumigation drive away the snakes. They lurk y if you 
 are careless. In Calabria is one which in wet weather lives in pools, 
 in dry weather is dangerous to sleepers in the open air. 
 Learn too to light in your stalls the fragrant cedar, and with smell 
 of gum to keep off venomous snakes. Oft beneath uncleansed cribs 
 either a viper deadly to touch is lurking, and frightened has fled from the 
 daylight, or a snake, that grievous plague of oxen, used to steal under a 
 roof or beneath the shade, and shower its venom on the cattle, squats 
 close on the ground : take stones in your hand, take oaken clubs, 
 shepherd, and as he rises menacing, as he swells his hissing neck, 
 down with him to the ground ; see he flies, see quickly he hides his 
 timorous head in a deep hole, his central coils and the extreme lines 
 of his tail are unloosed, and the utmost fold slowly drags its coil. There 
 is too that dreaded snake in the glades of Calabria, a fell beast, which 
 lifts its breast and rolls its scaly back, long is its belly, speckled with 
 large spots ; so long as any streams gush from their sources, so long 
 as the earth is moist with damp spring weather, and with rainy south 
 winds, it haunts the ponds, and dwelling on the banks fills its black 
 greedy maw with fish and croaking frogs : but when the marsh is 
 burnt up, and the ground gapes with the burning heat, forth it springs 
 upon the dry land, and glares with flaming eyes, and rages in the fields, 
 savage through thirst, dazed by the drought. May not the fancy then 
 take me to cull the blessing of soft sleep beneath the sky or to throw 
 myself on a woody slope along the grass, when the snake having cast his 
 
III. 478.] THE GE0RG2CS. 63 
 
 slough, fresh in youthful gloss, rolls along, leaving in his hole his young 
 or his eggs, with high head erect towards the sun, and three-forked 
 tongue that quivers in his mouth. 
 
 440 — 477. The diseases of sheep with their remedies. No time is in 
 this case to be lost, as contagion advances quickly spreading desola- 
 tion far and wide. 
 
 I will also teach you the causes and symptoms of diseases. Ugly 
 scab attacks sheep, when chilly rain and winter stiff with hoary frost 
 penetrates deeply even to the quick ; or when, after shearing, the sweat 
 not washed off clings to their bodies, or prickly brambles tear their 
 skm. Therefore in fresh running water the shepherds wash all their 
 flock, and the ram is plunged in the pool with his dripping fleece, 
 and is let loose to float down the stream. Or else after shearing 
 they smear their bodies with bitter lees of oil, making a compound of 
 litharge and native sulphur, and pitch from mount Ida, and wax 
 greased with ointment, and squill, and strong smelling hellebore, and 
 black bitumen. But fortune is never so ready to aid the distressed 
 by any other method, as if we dare with the knife to lay the head of 
 the sore open : to cover the distemper gives it life and nourishment ; 
 so long as the shepherd shrinks from applying his healing hands, or 
 idly sits importuning heaven for happier omens. Moreover, when the 
 pain rages piercing deep to the very bones of the bleating sheep, and 
 parching fever preys upon their limbs, then is it good to turn the 
 course of the kindled heat, and just under the foot to open a vein 
 and let out the spouting blood ; such is the practice of the Bisaltas 
 and the active Gelonian, when he flies to Rhodope, and the deserts 
 of the Getae, whose drink is a mixture of milk and horse's blood. 
 But should you see a poor animal often retire to a distance beneath 
 the soft shade, or listlessly crop the top of the herbage, or lag behind 
 his companions, or as it feeds lie down in the midst of the plain, 
 and not give place to night till lonely and late, at once cut off with 
 the knife the diseased member, before the dire contagion stealthily 
 spreads through the unwary flock. Nor so thickly does the whirlwind 
 drive before it a storm, and rush upon the main, as plagues come 
 crowding upon cattle ; nor do the diseases seize single bodies, but lay 
 waste the whole summer quarters at once, the flock and the hope of 
 the flock together, and all the nation from its earliest source. This 
 may ■ any one know, if even after so long a time he should visit the 
 Alps towering in the sky, and the castles of Noricum on the hills, 
 or the fields where Timavus of Iapia flows, and sees the desolation of 
 the pastoral realms, and the glades far and wide without inhabitant. 
 478 — 566. Description of a plague in i7nitation of Lucretius. It causes 
 universal destructio7i with many varieties of misery. It pollutes 
 sacred rites. It destroys the noblest hopes. Remedies are even mis- 
 chievous. The innocent creatures perish. Man has to do the work 
 of brute beasts. The air itself and the sea are polluted. The fury 
 is let loose. The contagion spreads eve7i to the hides and wool, which 
 are now useless. 
 In this country once upon a time through the corruption of the air 
 
64 VIRGIL. [III. 479— 
 
 suddenly began a woeful time, which glowed like a furnace with the 
 white heat of autumn, and delivered over to destruction all the race of 
 cattle, all the wild beasts of the field, and poisoned the pools, and tainted 
 the pastures as with venom. Nor did they travel a simple path of death ; 
 but when the fiery drought coursing through all their veins had con- 
 tracted their wretched limbs, a change passed over the disease, and the 
 watery dropsy flowed profusely, and spread through all the bones, one by 
 one drawing them into corruption. Oft in the midst of the sacrifice to 
 the gods, as the victim was standing at the altar, while it was being 
 decked with woollen fillet with snow-white ribbons, the creature fell in 
 the agonies of death almost in the hands of the loitering ministers : or if 
 the priest was in time to slay a victim with his knife, yet, when its entrails 
 were placed on the altar, the flame would not kindle, and the consulted 
 seer had no response to give, and the knives beneath the throat were 
 scarcely stained with blood, and the surface of the sand hardly coloured 
 with the thin corrupted gore. Hence the calves are continually dying in 
 the luxuriant herbage, or give up their dear life at well filled mangers. 
 Hence gentle dogs turn raging mad, and a panting asthma shakes the 
 wheezing swine, and throttles them in their swollen throats. Unhappy 
 in all his noble aims, forgetful of his pasture sinks the horse, conqueror in 
 the race ; he loathes the fountains, ever and anon he stamps on the 
 ground; his ears droop, on them breaks forth a fitful sweating, and 
 that too, as death draws near, becomes cold ; dry is the skin, and resists, 
 all hard, the touch of the hand. Such are the symptoms of the fatal 
 disease during the first days ; but as in its advance it waxes fiercer and 
 fiercer, then the eyes burn with heat, the breath is drawn deep, between 
 times it comes laden with a groan, with sobs and sighs the whole length 
 of the sides is racked; black blood flows from the nostrils, the rough 
 tongue cleaves to the obstructed jaws. For a time it does good to pour 
 from a horn the Lenaean juice of wine down their throats ; that seemed 
 the only hope of deliverance from death : presently the very remedy was 
 deadly, with rage recruited they burnt with fresh fever, and as their 
 sickness drew on to death (ye gods, give better hearts to the pious, and 
 such an infatuation to our enemies !) they tore and mangled their own 
 limbs with their naked teeth. But behold the bull smoking with the 
 weight of the hard plough suddenly falls, he vomits from his mouth gore 
 mixed with foam, and draws the last groans ; sadly goes the ploughman 
 and unyokes the bullock sorrowing at his brother's death, the plough is 
 left fixed in the ground, the work is unfinished. No shades of deep 
 groves, no velvet meadows can gladden his spirit, no stream that rolls 
 o'er the rocks, clearer than amber, in its course to the plain ; flabby is the 
 length of his flanks, torpor loads his stupid eyes, his neck droops to 
 earth borne down with heavy weight. Alas, what boots his toil or kind 
 services to man? what avails his having turned up the stubborn earth 
 with the share ? And yet the Massic wine, the gift of Bacchus, was not 
 his bane, nor the dainties of loaded tables ; his simple food was leaves 
 and grass ; his cups were crystal springs and rivers racing in their rapid 
 course ; no cares disturb his healthy rest. At such and no other time 
 men say that in these regions kine were sought in vain for Juno's sacri- 
 
IV. 14.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 fices, and that ill-matched buffaloes drew the chariots to the lofty shrines. 
 Therefore do men with harrows painfully grub up the earth, and with 
 their own nails plant the corn, and over the high hills straining their 
 necks drag the creaking carts. No more does the wolf try his wily 
 tricks around the folds, nor nightly prowl about the flocks \ a sharper 
 trouble tames his spirit now ; timorous roes and flying stags now roam 
 close to the kennels of the hounds and the houses of men. Now the 
 wave washes up on the beach of the shore the progeny of the boundless 
 sea, and all the race that swims in the water, as though they were the 
 bodies of shipwrecked mariners ; sea-calves take refuge in the rivers — an 
 unfamiliar dwelling. The viper too perishes, her winding hole is a vain 
 defence; the water-snakes are scared with scales erect. To the very 
 birds the air is an unkindly home ; headlong they fall, and leave their 
 life within a lofty cloud. Moreover so sore is the distress that the change 
 of pasture is useless ; the invented methods of medicine are only baneful, 
 beaten are the masters of the craft, Chiron the son cf Philyra, Melam- 
 pus the son of Amythaon. Ghastly Tisiphone rages, let loose into the 
 light of day from the Stygian darkness, she drives before her disease and 
 terror, day by day she ever raises higher her greedy head. With the 
 bleating of sheep and constant lowings of oxen resound the rivers and 
 parched banks and sloping hills. And now the Fury destroys them heap 
 upon heap, and piles in the very stalls the carcases that stream with foul 
 corrupted gore ; until perforce they learn to cover them in the earth, and 
 put them out of sight in pits. For even the hides were good for nought ; 
 and no one could cleanse the infection of the entrails by water, or over- 
 come the contagion by fire ; they could not so much as shear the fleeces 
 wasted by the filthy disease, nor even touch the wool that should have 
 been woven, so rotten was it ; but if any one ventured to put on the 
 loathsome clothing, burning pustules and a noisome sweat soon ran o'er 
 his fetid frame, nor was it long before he found that the fiery curse was 
 consuming his infected limbs. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 I — 7. The introduction. 
 
 I will go on to discourse of next the heavenly gifts of honey born 
 in air. Regard, Maecenas, also this division of my work. Marvellous 
 shows, though made by trifling things, and high-souled captains I will tell 
 you of, and recount in order all the nation's character, and tastes, and 
 tribes, and wars. Slight is the subject of my toil, but not slight the glory, 
 if adverse powers perchance allow me, and Apollo hear my call. 
 8 — 32. Directions as to the situation of the hive, and the plants that 
 should grow about it. 
 
 In the first place, a fixed site must be sought out for the dwelling of the 
 bees, to which the winds may never find a path (for the winds prevent 
 them from carrying home their food), and where no sheep and butting 
 kids may trample on the flowers, or the heifer, as she wanders o'er the 
 plain, sweep away the dew and crush the springing plants. Let the 
 painted lizard's scaly back be also far away from the wealthy home- 
 
 VIR. 
 
 5 
 
66 VIRGIL. [IV. 15— 
 
 stead, and bee-eaters, and other birds, and Procne, her breast marked 
 with her bloody hands ; for everything far and wide they devastate, and 
 catch on the wing the bees themselves, and in their beaks bear them 
 away, a sweet morsel for their cruel nestlings. But close at hand be 
 crystal springs and pools all green with moss, and a tiny rivulet stealing 
 through the grass, and let a palm or great wild olive canopy the porch, so 
 that, when in the spring they love, the new-made kings shall lead forth 
 their earliest swarms, and the young bees play unprisoned from the 
 comb, a neighbouring bank may invite them to withdraw from the heat, 
 and a tree full in their view may charm them to stay within its hospitable 
 bower. Into the midst of the water, whether it stand idle or gush forth, 
 cast willow boughs across, and massy stones ; that they may have a suc- 
 cession of bridges whereon to settle, and spread their wings out to the 
 summer sun, if it chance the south-wind has sprinkled them with a 
 shower of rain as they linger abroad, or with headlong swoop has plunged 
 them in the deep. About this place let green casia, and wild thyme that 
 flings its fragrance round, and a wealth of strong-scented savory blossom, 
 and beds of violets quaff the irrigating spring. 
 
 33 — 50. The construction of the hive, and precautions to be used to 
 exclude heat and cold. Nothing that may hurt or offend the bees 
 should be near the hive. 
 
 Next, let the hive itself, whether you have it sewn together of pieces of 
 hollow bark, or woven of pliant osier, have its entrances narrow ; for 
 winter contracts the honey with cold, and summer heat melts it again in 
 turn. Your bees should be guarded equally against the fierceness of both 
 extremes ; and it is with good reason that they in their dwellings are all 
 eagerness to daub with wax the tiny crevices, and with the pollen of 
 flowers stop up the chinks, and store up gum, which they have gathered 
 for this special purpose, more binding than birdlime, and the pitch of 
 Phrygian Ida. Often too, if the story be true, they dig out a hiding- 
 place, and make their settled home beneath the earth, and have been 
 found deep within scooped-out pumice rocks, and the cavern of a hollow 
 tree. Still do you with fostering care anoint all round their chambers 
 full of cracks with smooth mud, and scatter leaves above it here and 
 there : and suffer not a yew-tree too near to their home, nor roast in the 
 fire red crabs ; and mistrust a deep marsh, or a spot where the smell of a 
 morass is oppressive, or where arched rocks ring with the stroke of sound, 
 and from the shock rebounds the echoed voice. 
 
 51 — 66. The activity of bees at the return of spring. Their swarming; 
 and how to induce the7n to go back to the hive. 
 
 For the rest, when the golden Sun has banished winter, and driven him 
 beneath the earth, and with the summer light unlocked the sky, they 
 straightway range throughout the glades and groves, and crop bright 
 flowers, and lightly sip the surface of the streams. Hence is it that, 
 pleased with some vague delight, they cherish their young ones in the 
 nest ; hence is it that they skilfully fashion the fresh wax, and mould the 
 honey-glues. Therefore, whenever you observe the train, just unprisoned 
 from its hollow cages, to soar towards the stars of heaven, floating through 
 the cloudless summer air, and view the dark cloud trailing in the wind, 
 
IV. io8.] THE GEORGICS. 67 
 
 mark them ; sweet springs and leafy bowers they ever seek. Hitherward 
 scatter at once the savoury herbs prescribed, bruised leaves of balm, and 
 the wax-flower's humble blade, and all about raise tinkling sounds, and 
 rattle the cymbals of the mother of the gods : of themselves they will 
 settle down on the spot you have thus prepared, of themselves they will, 
 according to their habit, hide deep within their chambers' inmost cells. 
 67 — 102. Description of the battle, when there are two rival kings in the 
 hive. When the fight has been stopped, the worst of the two should be 
 killed. The common bees are of two sorts, each class being like 
 its king. 
 But if perchance for fight they quit the hive, for discord oft with passion 
 deep two kings inspires, and from the first you may from far divine the 
 feelings of the crowd and their hearts that throb with the spirit of war ; 
 for the well-known battle-note of the hoarse clarion startles the loiterers, 
 and a sound is heard that mimics the trumpet's fitful blasts ; then all 
 excited they close in combat, and flash their wings, and whet the points 
 of their beaks, and make ready their arms to fight, and around their king 
 and close to his pavilion they swarm in throngs, and with loud shouts 
 defy the enemy. So when they have found a clear spring day and open 
 plains, they sally forth from the gates ; high in the air they meet in the 
 shock of fight ; a din is heard ; mingled they roll into a mighty globe, 
 and headlong fall ; not thicker pours the hail from heaven, nor such a 
 rain of acorns from the shaken oak. The chiefs themselves with con- 
 spicuous wings throughout the midst of the array have mighty souls at 
 work within a narrow breast, utterly resolved not to give way, till the 
 overpowering conqueror has forced one army or the other to turn and 
 shew their backs in flight. These passions of soul, and these conflicts, 
 fierce though they be, are quelled and laid at rest by the casting of a 
 little dust. But when you have recalled both captains from the field, 
 him that is worst to view consign to doom, that he be not a wasteful 
 burden ; allow the better one to reign in the palace his rival has left 
 empty. The one will be ab]aze with spots of golden mail ; for there are 
 two sorts ; first the better, distinguished in form, and bright with flashing 
 scales ; the other of the two squalid through sloth, and trailing in- 
 gloriously a breadth of belly. As the shapes of the monarchs are two- 
 fold, so are the bodies of their subjects ; for some are unsightly and 
 squalid, as when from a depth of dust the traveller comes, and from his 
 parching mouth spits out the earth ; others brightly gleam and glitter and 
 sparkle, their bodies ablaze and uniformly marked with golden drops. 
 This is the nobler stock ; from this at the certain season of the year you 
 will press sweet honey ; and yet not so sweet, as crystal-clear, and able 
 to subdue the harsh flavour of wine. 
 
 103 — 115. How to prevent the bees from straying. There should be a 
 flower-garden near. 
 But when the swarms fly aimlessly about, and play in the air, and 
 scorn their combs, and leave their dwellings cold, you should restrain 
 their wanton minds from idle play. And the trouble of restraining them 
 is not great ; do but pluck away the monarch's wings : not one will dare, 
 while they remain at home, to set out on his airy march, or pull up the 
 
 5-2 
 
68 VIRGIL. [IV. 109— 
 
 standards from the camp. Let gardens that breathe the odour of saffron 
 flowers invite them, and the watcher against thieves and birds with his 
 willow priming-hook, Priapus, lord of the Hellespont, guard and protect 
 them. Let him to whom this charge belongs himself bear thyme and pine- 
 trees from the mountain heights, and plant them everywhere around 
 their homes ; let him wear with hard toil his own hand, with his own 
 hand let him set in earth the fruitful herbs, and let loose the welcome 
 irrigating showers. 
 
 116 — 148. An apology for not treating of gardens more at length. De- 
 scription of a garden and orchard near Tarentum. 
 And I myself, were I not now, as I draw close to my labours' utmost 
 bound, furling my sails, and hastening to turn my prow to land, perhaps 
 would sing what cultivating care makes fertile gardens gay, and tell of the 
 twice-flowering rosebeds of Paestum, and how the endive rejoices in the 
 streams it drinks, and green river-banks in parsley, and how the cucum- 
 ber coiling through the grass grows and swells in girth ; and I would 
 not have passed in silence by the late-blowing narcissus, and the pliant 
 stalk of the twining acanthus, and ivy pale, and the myrtle that loves the 
 shore. For I remember that beneath CEbalia's stately towers, where 
 black Galassus soaks the golden fields, I saw an old Corycian swain, who 
 possessed a few acres of abandoned land, and it a soil not rich enough 
 for the ox to plough, nor fit for the herd to graze upon, nor kindly for the 
 growth of the vine. Yet he, as he planted vegetables here and there on 
 the thorny ground, and about them white lilies, and the poppy with its 
 tiny seeds, matched in his heart's content the wealth of kings, and home 
 returning late at night, with unbought dainties used to pile his board. 
 The first was he to gather the rose in spring, the fruit in autumn ; and 
 when stern winter was still bursting the rocks with cold, and bridling the 
 rivers' speed, he was then beginning to pluck the tender hyacinth bloom, 
 chiding the lazy summer and lingering western gales. So he too was 
 first to abound in teeming bees and many a swarm, and from the pressed 
 honeycomb to collect the frothing honey ; his lime-trees and his pines 
 were most luxuriant ; and for every promise wherewith his bounteous 
 tree had dressed itself in early bloom, it bore fruit in its autumn ripeness. 
 He also latest planted out his elms, and his pear-tree when grown quite 
 hard, and the sloe when it had begun to bear its plums, and the plane 
 when spreading enough to minister a shade to the revellers. But I 
 myself, shut out by want of space, pass by this theme, and leave it for 
 others after me to treat. 
 
 149 — 196. The nature and habits of bees. Their commonwealth, divi- 
 sion of labour, energy in work, and regularity of system. Their 
 occupation on stormy days. 
 
 Now come, I will discuss the natural qualities which Jove himself has 
 bestowed upon bees, I will tell for what wages they, following the Curetes' 
 ringing noise and rattling brass, fed the king of heaven within a Cretan 
 cave. They alone have a community of children, and jointly own the 
 houses of their city, and pass their life beneath majestic laws. They 
 alone acknowledge a fatherland and settled home, and mindful in summer 
 of the winter that must come, practise hard toil, and for the common use 
 
IV. *o8.] 
 
 THE GEORGIA 
 
 69 
 
 store up their gains. For some look to the supply of provisions, and by 
 settled covenant labour in the fields ; part within the confines of their 
 homes lay the tear of the narcissus, and the gluey gum from the bark 
 of trees, to be the first foundations of the hive, next hang aloft the 
 binding wax ; others guide forth the grown offspring, the nation's hope ; 
 others pack close a wealth of purest honey, and with clear nectar swell 
 out wide the cells. Some there are to whose lot it has fallen to stand 
 sentinels at the gates, and by turns they watch the watery clouds of 
 heaven, or receive the loads of those that come to the hive, or in close 
 array drive from the homestead the drones, a lazy herd. Hotly the work 
 proceeds, and the stores of odorous honey are sweet with the smell of 
 thyme. Even as when the Cyclops haste to fashion thunderbolts out of 
 malleable masses of ore, some with bellows of ox-hide draw and blow 
 forth the blasts, some dip in the pool the hissing brass ; beneath the 
 anvils piled upon her ^Etna groans ; they, one after another, with mighty 
 force raise their arms in time, and turn the iron lump with biting tongs ; 
 so, if small things may be compared with great, an inborn love of gain 
 goads on the Attic bees, each according to his station. 'Tis the charge of 
 the aged to guard the towns, and build the combs, and mould the curious 
 houses ; but deep in the night the younger come back weary home, their 
 legs smeared thick with thyme ; far and wide they feed on arbute trees, 
 and pale-green willows, and casia, and the crocus with its ruddy gleam, 
 and the rich gum of the lime, and dusky hyacinth flowers. All have one 
 season to rest from toil, all one time for work ; at daybreak they throng 
 out from the gates ; nowhere is there aught of sloth ; when at length the 
 Evening-star reminds them to withdraw from their pasture in the fields, 
 and return home, then they speed to their dwellings, then they recruit 
 their bodies ; a noise begins, and they buzz around the entrances and 
 doors. Afterwards, when at last they have settled down in their chambers, 
 there is silence for the night, and the sleep they need possesses their 
 weary limbs. And yet they go not very far away from their stalls, when 
 rain is threatening, or trust the sky when east winds are coming on ; but 
 safe around their homes make watering excursions near the shelter of their 
 city- walls, and attempt short expeditions, and often carry up pebbles in 
 their flight, as rocking boats take in ballast, when tossed by the surge ; 
 on these they poise themselves, as they fly through the empty clouds. 
 197 — 209. Bees do not propagate their race, but find their yoimg on 
 flowers and herbs. The shortness of their life. 
 You will wonder that such a custom as this is established among bees, 
 that they never yield themselves to sexual love, nor unnerve their bodies 
 to the languor of passion, or bring forth their offspring by the pangs of 
 birth ; but by themselves with their mouths they gather their children 
 from leaves and sweet plants ; by themselves they provide a king, and 
 the tiny freemen of their Rome, and fashion anew their palaces and waxen 
 realms. Often too as they wander they bruise their wings on hard stones, 
 nay even yield their lives beneath the load ; so passionate is their love 
 for flowers, and their glory in engendering honey. Therefore, albeit 'the 
 limit of a narrow life await the bees themselves, (for indeed it is never 
 prolonged beyond the seventh summer,) still the race remains immortal, 
 
70 VIRGIL. [IV. 209— 
 
 and for many a year stands firm the fortune of the house, and grandsires' 
 grandsires swell the pedigree. 
 
 2 1 o — 2 1 8 . The reverence of bees for their king. 
 
 Besides, neither Egypt, nor mighty Lydia, nor the Parthian tribes, nor 
 Median Hydaspes, so deeply reverence their king. All are of one mind, 
 so long as the king is safe ; when he is lost, they are sure to break their 
 allegiance, and themselves pull down the stores of honey they have 
 built, and break in pieces their latticed combs. He is the overseer of 
 their works, to him they look up, and all around him stand in shouting 
 crowds, and closely thronging form a guard about him, and oft uplift him 
 on their shoulders, and for him are eager to expose their bodies to the 
 fight, and seek to gain 'mid wounds a glorious death. 
 219 — 227. The belief that bees are t7t spired with a portion of the soul of 
 
 the tiniverse. 
 
 Judging by these signs and guided by these instances, some have said 
 that bees possess a share of the divine mind, and draw the breath of 
 heaven ; for they think that the deity moves through all lands, and 
 spaces of the sea, and deep of heaven ; that hence flocks, herds,- men, 
 every kind of wild beasts, each one at birth derive the delicate spirit of 
 life ; and so in course all things are restored to this fountain, and thither 
 return again by dissolution ; and there is no room for death, but each 
 flies up into the place of a star, and climbs the height of heaven. 
 228 — 250. Directions how and when to take the honey. If the bees are to 
 
 be saved, the empty co?nbs must be taken out, and the hive fumigated. 
 
 Whenever you mean to unseal the narrow dwelling, and the stores of 
 honey hoarded in the treasure houses, first with a draught of water care- 
 fully sprinkle and wash your mouth, and hold forth a stream of piercing 
 smoke. Men twice collect the teeming growth of honey, there are two 
 seasons of harvest ; so soon as the Pleiad Taygete has shewn to earth her 
 brilliant face, and spurned and dashed beneath her foot the Ocean river; 
 or when the same star, as she flies from the constellation of the rainy Fish, 
 more sorrowfully descends from heaven into the winter-waves. Beyond 
 measure is their anger, and when hurt they breathe poison into their 
 bite, and fixing on the veins leave their stings hidden within, and lay 
 their lives down in the wound they give. But if perchance you fear the 
 cruel winter, and mean to spare them for longer life, and pity their 
 crushed spirits and broken fortunes, still who would hesitate to fumi- 
 gate with thyme and cut away the empty house of wax ? For oft the newt 
 undetected eats away the comb, and the chambers are crammed with 
 beetles that shun the light, and the drone that takes no part in the 
 work sits beside another's food ; or the savage hornet closes in fight 
 with arms that are not his match ; or the spider, hateful to Minerva, 
 hangs in the doorway her drooping toils. The more grievously wasted 
 they may be, the more earnestly they all will set themselves to repair the 
 ruins of their fallen race, and will fill up the tiers of cells, and wreathe 
 their granaries with the pollen of flowers. 
 
 25 1 — 280. The sy?nptoms of the breaking out of sickness among bees, and 
 the remedies that should be used. 
 
 But if (since to bees also life has brought the calamities of us men) 
 
IV. 303-] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 71 
 
 their bodies chance to languish with fell disease, as you will presently be 
 able to ascertain by no doubtful symptoms: — from the first the sick 
 change their colour ; a squalid leanness gives them an unsightly look ; 
 soon they bear forth from their dwellings the corpses of the lifeless, and 
 form the mournful funeral train ; or the bees clinging foot to foot hang in 
 a cluster at their gate, or within their home stay idly in the close-shut 
 mansion, all listless with hunger, and torpid with numbing cold. Then is 
 heard a deep-toned sound, and they buzz with long-drawn murmur, as in 
 the forests oft the chilling south-wind moans ; as roars with backward 
 waves the troubled sea ; as when shut in furnaces rages the devouring 
 fire. I will advise you then to kindle at once a fire of fragrant gum, and 
 convey honey through channels of reed, encouraging them besides, and 
 inviting the sickly bees to their familiar food. It will be beneficial also to 
 bruise and mix with the honey the strong-flavoured gall-nut, and dried 
 roses, or wine-juice made rich with repeated fires, or parched bunches of 
 the Psithian vine, and Attic thyme and strongly-scented centaury. Be- 
 sides, there is a flower in the meadows, for which farmers have made the 
 name of amellus, a plant easily found by those that seek it ; for from one 
 sod the root shoots up a spreading growth of leaves ; golden is the eye of 
 the flower, but among the petals, which are scattered plenteously around 
 it, a bright gleam peeps beneath a dusky violet hue : often with garlands 
 twined of it the altars of the gods are decked ; its taste is sharp in the 
 mouth ; in the close-cropped valley pastures, and near the winding 
 streams of Mella, it is gathered by the shepherds. The roots of this 
 plant boil in fragrant wine, and in full baskets in the doorway serve 
 it to be their food. 
 281 — 314. If the stock of bees has altogether failed, it may be renewed by 
 
 a method much relied upon ainong eastern nations. Description of 
 
 this process. 
 But if a bee-master has lost all at once his whole breed, and has no 
 source whence he may derive the stock of a new generation, it is the time 
 to reveal also the famed discovery of the Arcadian master, and to tell by 
 what method the corrupted gore of slaughtered oxen has oft ere now 
 produced a stock of bees. From its spring I will unfold the whole story, 
 and retrace it from its first beginning. For where the happy people of 
 Pellaean Canopus dwell beside the lake made by the overflowing Nile, 
 and are carried round their fields in painted barges, and where the border 
 of Persia, land of the quiver, joins them close, and the river, that runs in 
 unbroken stream down from the swarthy Indians, in its rushing course 
 divides into seven separate mouths, and with black slime makes Egypt 
 green and rich, all the country round rests on this contrivance its hope of 
 relief. First a place is chosen, naturally confined, and straitened for the 
 special purpose ; this they hem round with a narrowed roof of tiles, and 
 close walls, and towards the four winds introduce four windows with 
 slanting lights. Then a bullock is looked for, on whose brow are begin- 
 ning to curl the horns of its second year ; both its nostrils and the breath 
 of its mouth are stopped up, in spite of all its struggles ; and then it is 
 slain with blows, and all its body inwardly crushed and mashed beneath 
 the still unbroken skin. In this condition they leave it lying in the 
 
72 VIRGIL. [IV. 304— 
 
 closed room, and strew beneath the sides broken boughs, thyme, and 
 fresh-plucked casia flowers. This is done when the zephyrs are beginning 
 to sweep the waves along, before the meadows are crimsoned with new- 
 born hues, before the twittering swallow hangs his nest in the eaves. 
 Meanwhile the moisture, growing warm in the softened bones, begins to 
 ferment, and forms of life of wondrous kind to view, at first short of feet, 
 next with buzzing wings as well, swarm together, and thicker and thicker 
 stem the fleeting air ; until, as a shower shed from summer clouds, they 
 all at once burst forth, or as arrows sped from the string, whene'er the 
 nimble Parthians commence the prelude of the fray. 
 315 — 332. This remedy was first given to Aristaeus, when he had lost 
 
 his bees , and appealed in despair to his mother, the river-ny7nph 
 
 Cyrene, 
 What god was it, ye Muses, who worked out for us this device? 
 Whence did this new discovery of man derive its source? Shepherd 
 Aristaeus, quitting Peneus and Tempe, when he had lost his bees, as 
 tradition tells, by disease and famine, in sorrow stood beside the sacred 
 fount at the farthest limit of the stream, ever complaining, and with these 
 words addressed his parent : " Mother, mother Cyrene, thou that dost 
 haunt the depths of this flood, why didst thou give birth to me of the 
 illustrious line of gods, (if really, as thou allegest, Thymbraean Apollo is 
 my sire,) to me, a being hateful to destiny? or whither is banished thy love 
 for me ? Why wert thou wont to bid me hope for heaven ? Lo, even this 
 very ornament of my mortal life, which the sedulous tending of crops 
 and cattle has scarce worked out for me after all experiments, I abandon, 
 while thou art my mother. Nay come, and with thine own hand tear 
 up my wealthy groves, bear hostile fire against my stalls, and destroy 
 my harvests, burn the plants I have sown, and wield against my vines the 
 violent axe, if thou art seized with such deep loathing for my honour." 
 333 — 386. His complaint reaches his mother, as she sits with the Nymphs 
 
 around her in her palace beneath the river. She bids hi??i enter the 
 
 cavern, where he sees the sources of all the great rivers of the earth. 
 
 Cyrene makes a banquet for her son, potirs a libation to Ocean, and 
 
 begins her counsel. 
 Then his mother heard the sound within the chamber of the river- 
 depth. Around her the Nymphs were plying fleeces of wool, dyed with 
 the full deep hue of glass ; Drymo, and Xantho, and Ligea, and Phyllo- 
 doce, with long bright hair streaming down their snowy necks ; Nesase, 
 and Spio, and Thalia, and Cymodoce, and Cydippe and yellow-haired 
 Lycorias, the one a maiden, the other had then for the first time proved 
 the travail of birth ; and Clio, and Beroe, both daughters of Ocean, both 
 girt with belts of gold, both dressed in painted skins ; and Ephyre, and 
 Opis, and Asian Deiopeia, and fleet Arethusa, her arrows laid aside at 
 last. Among these Clymene was telling the tale of Vulcan's baffled 
 watchfulness, and the stratagems and sweet thefts of Mars, and recounted 
 from the age of Chaos the thousand loves of the gods. Charmed with 
 this song, while with the spindle they roll down the soft material of their 
 tasks, a second time the wail of Aristaeus smote his mother's ear, and all 
 were startled on their glassy seats ; but before the rest of her sisters 
 
IV. 4 02.] THE GEORGICS. 73 
 
 Arethusa looked forth, and raised her golden head above the surface of 
 the wave, and from a distance cries : "O thou, struck with no causeless 
 alarm by a lament so loud, Cyrene my sister, Aristasus himself appealing 
 to thee, he the chiefest object of thy care, sadly weeping stands beside 
 the wave of father Peneus, and calls thee cruel one by name." To her the 
 mother, her mind deep stricken with unwonted dread, "Come, guide him, 
 guide him to us," exclaims ; "'tis meet for him to tread the threshold of 
 gods." Withal she bids the deep stream retire far away, to make a 
 path, by which the footsteps of the youth might enter in : so him the 
 flood encompassed, rounded into the form of a mountain, and admitted 
 him within its huge fold, and let him pass beneath the river. And now 
 he went along, wondering at his mother's home and watery realms, and 
 the pools enclosed in caves, and the echoing woods ; and amazed at the 
 mighty tide of waters, he beheld in their several places all the rivers 
 that glide beneath the whole earth, Phasis, and Lycus, and the fountain- 
 head whence deep Enipeus first bursts forth, the fount whence father 
 Tiber springs, and whence the streams of Anio, and stony-sounding 
 Hypanis, and Mysian Caicus, and he, with both horns gilded on his bull- 
 like face, Eridanus ; no other river flows through fruitful fields to pour 
 forth with greater violence into the dark-blue sea. When he reached the 
 chamber with its hanging roof of pumice-stone, and Cyrene had learnt the 
 cause of the idle tears of her son, the sisters in due order present for the 
 hands the water of a crystal spring, and bring towels with nap smooth- 
 shorn ; part load the tables with the feast, and still replenish the wine- 
 cup ; the altars are kindled with burnt-offerings of Panchsean spice ; 
 and the mother says, "Take beakers of Maeonian wine, let us pour a 
 libation to Ocean ;" withal, she herself makes her prayer to Ocean the 
 father of the world, and to the sisterhood of the Nymphs, who guard 
 a hundred woods, a hundred streams. Thrice she bedewed with crystal 
 nectar the glowing fire on the shrine, thrice the flame that lurked beneath 
 flashed up to the highest point of the roof. Assuring his spirits w T ith this 
 omen, she thus herself begins. 
 
 387—414. Cyrene bids Aristaeus go to Pallene to co?isult Proteus, the 
 old prophet of the sea; and instructs him how to C07npel Proteus to 
 give the counsel he needs. 
 
 In Neptune's Carpathian flood there lives a seer, azure Proteus, who 
 traverses the mighty main in a car drawn by fishes, and a team of two- 
 footed steeds. He is now revisiting the havens of Emathia and his 
 native Pallene ; him both we Nymphs revere, and the aged sire Nereus 
 himself; for the seer knoweth all, what is, what has been, what is being 
 brought near, and is hereafter to arrive; so, I ween, the will of Neptune 
 is, whose monstrous herds and misshapen sea-calves he tends beneath 
 the flood. Him, my son, you must first make prisoner with fetters, that 
 he may expound to you all the source of the disease, and make the 
 issue happy. For without force he will not give you any instructions, 
 and you will not be able to sway him by intreaty ; bind your prisoner 
 tight with hard force and fetters ; within these his stratagems will at 
 last be foiled and fruitless. I myself, when the sun has kindled his 
 scorching mid-day heat, when the herbage is parched, and the shade 
 
74 VIRGIL. [IV. 403— 
 
 is now most welcome to the herd, will guide you into the aged seer's 
 retreat, whither when weary he retires from the waves, so that you may 
 easily assail him when lying asleep. But when you have seized him, and 
 hold him with your hands and chains, straightway manifold forms will 
 seek to baffle you, and figures of wild beasts ; for he will suddenly be- 
 come a bristly boar, and a fell tiger, and a scaly dragon, and a lioness 
 with tawny neck ; or will give forth a fierce roar of flames, and so strive 
 to slip away from the fetters, or melt away into fleeting water, and so 
 make his escape. But the more he shall turn himself into all kinds of 
 shapes, the more do you, my son, strain tight the binding fetters, until 
 he change his form, and become such as you saw him to be, when he 
 closed his eyes at the beginning of his sleep. 
 
 415 — 452. Cyrene sheds ambrosia over her son, which inspires hint with 
 god-like vigour for his undertaking. The cave of Proteus is described, 
 and how he is forced by Aristaeus to tell the cause of his trotible. 
 
 So she speaks, and sheds abroad an odorous stream of ambrosia, with 
 which she steeps all the body of her son ; so a sweet effluence breathes 
 from his smoothened hair, and vigour apt for enterprise passes into his 
 limbs. There is a mighty cavern, scooped out in the side of a mountain, 
 whither many a wave is driven by the wind, and parts into retired creeks, 
 a right safe roadstead oft for mariners surprised by a storm; within, 
 Proteus is wont to shelter himself with the barrier of a huge crag. Here 
 the nymph stations the youth in a lurking-place away from the light ; 
 she herself, shrouded in mists, stands at a distance apart. Now the 
 devouring dog-star, that scorches the thirsty Indians, was blazing in the 
 sky, and half the circle of the flaming sun was spent ; the herbage was 
 withering up, and the rays were baking down to the mud the hollow 
 river channels, all heated in the dry throats of their stream ; when Pro- 
 teus came along, hastening from the waves to his accustomed cave ; about 
 him the watery people of the vasty deep splash all around in sport the 
 bitter spray. The sea-calves stretch themselves in sleep in different spots 
 of the shore : the god himself, as oft upon the hills the guardian of the 
 stall, when evening brings the steers back from pasture to their homes, 
 and lambs make keen the hunger of wolves that hear their bleatings, sits 
 down on a rock in the midst, and tells their number. Aristaeus, so soon 
 as he is given an opportunity to assail him, almost without allowing the 
 aged seer to compose his weary limbs in slumber, rushes forward with 
 loud shout, and seizes him with fetters as he lies. He, on his side, not 
 forgetful of his own craft, transforms himself into all the wondrous shapes 
 that are ; fire, and a dreadful beast, and a running river. But when 
 nought of artifice finds him means of escape, vanquished he returns to 
 his proper form, and speaks at last with human voice : " Why, who was 
 it, most audacious of youths, that bid you visit my mansion ? Or what 
 seek you from me?" he says. The other in reply: "Thou knowest, 
 Proteus, thou knowest of thyself, and none can deceive thee in aught ; 
 but cease thou to attempt to practise deceit. In obedience to injunctions 
 of the gods I have come, to seek from thee an oracle to repair my broken 
 fortunes." So much he spoke. In reply the seer, at last constrained by 
 
IV. soo.] 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 75 
 
 force, rolled on him eyes fierce-sparkling with grey light, and gnashing 
 his teeth in wrath, opened his lips to speak the oracles of fate. 
 453 — 506. Pi'oteus says that Eurydice, in trying to escape froin Aris- 
 taeus, was killed by a serpe?ifs bite, and that the vengeance of Orphe?is 
 is the cause of the disaster that has befallen Aristaeus. The story of 
 the descent of Orpheus to hell. 
 Be sure it is the anger of a deity that vexes you ; great are the crimes 
 you expiate ; 'tis Orpheus, unhappy, though all guiltless, who wakes 
 against you this tide of vengeance, if it be not stayed by Fate, and is 
 filled with deep wrath for the loss of his bride. 'Twas she who, while 
 with headlong speed she fled from you through the river, she, a maiden 
 doomed to die, who saw not before her feet the fell hydra, the watchful 
 tenant of the bank, in the high grass. So the sisterhood of the Dryads, 
 her playmates, filled with their cry the mountain-tops ; the peaks of 
 Rhodope were loud with the wail, and the heights of Pangaeus, and the 
 martial land of Rhesus, and the Getae, and Hebrus, and Attic Orithyia. 
 He, with his hollow shell consoling the sickness of love, sang of you, 
 sweet bride, by himself on the desert shore ; of you when day was 
 dawning, of you when it was passing away. He even entered the jaws of 
 Tsenarus, the deep portal of Dis, and the grove all darkened with gloomy 
 horror, and visited the powers of the dead, and their awful king, and the 
 hearts that know not what it is to be touched by the prayers of men. 
 Then, stirred from the lowest abodes of Erebus, the shadowy phantoms 
 passed along, and the spectres of them that had left the light, thick as the 
 myriads of birds that dive into the shelter of the leaves, when night-fall, 
 or a wintry shower, chases them from the hills, — matrons and husbands, 
 and the bodies of valiant heroes reft of life, boys and unwedded girls, and 
 youths laid on the funeral pile before their parents' eyes; whom all 
 around the black ooze and squalid reeds of Cocytus, and the marsh 
 unlovely with its sluggish wave, enchain, and Styx confines with the 
 nine circles of his stream. Nay, the very mansions and inmost cham- 
 bers of Death were charmed, and the Furies, their locks entwined with 
 lurid snakes ; and Cerberus held agape and fixed his triple mouth, and 
 the blast allowed to rest Ixion's whirling wheel. And now, retracing his 
 steps, he had surmounted every peril, and his restored Eurydice was 
 approaching the upper air, following behind him, (for this condition 
 Proserpine had imposed,) when sudden frenzy seized the unwary lover, 
 pardonable indeed, were pardon known to Hell ; he paused, and looked 
 back upon his own Eurydice, just on the confines of the day, unmindful, 
 alas ! and vanquished in resolve. In that moment all his toil was lost, 
 and his covenant with the ruthless monarch broken, and thrice the 
 thunder-crash was heard to roll across the pools of Avernus. " What is 
 this wildness of frenzy," cried she; "what is it that has undone my hapless 
 self, and you too, my Orpheus ? Lo, the cruel Fates a second time sum- 
 mon me back, and slumber shrouds my swimming eyes. And now 
 farewell ; I am forced away, mantled round by a world of darkness, and 
 reaching forth to you my nerveless hands, alas, not now your bride !" 
 She ended, and in an instant vanished far away, like smoke that mingles 
 with the fleeting air, and never saw him more, while again and again he 
 
76 VIRGIL. {IV. 501— 
 
 vainly grasps at the darkness, and often essays to speak ; nor did the 
 ferryman of Orcus any more permit him to pass the barrier of the marsh. 
 What was he to do ? Twice bereft of his bride, whither could he resort ? 
 With what lament could he melt the gods below, with what tones could 
 he touch those powers? She, indeed, already cold, was sailing in the 
 Stygian bark. 
 
 507 — 527. The fate of Orpheus. 
 They tell that he, full seven successive months, beneath a towering crag 
 by desolate Strymon's wave, wept ever, and rolled forth these woes 
 beneath the caverns cold, taming tigers, and charming oaks to follow 
 his song ; so the nightingale lamenting beneath the poplar shade mourns 
 her lost young, whom the ruthless churl has marked, and dragged the 
 fledgelings from the nest ; but she weeps all the night, and perched upon a 
 bough still renews her piteous strain, and fills the regions all around 
 with sorrowful laments. No love nor any wedlock swayed his soul. 
 Alone he used to roam the fields of northern ice, and snowy Tanais, and 
 plains ever wedded to Rhipaean frosts, mourning his Eurydice forced 
 away, and the fruitless gifts of Dis : by this tribute the Thracian matrons 
 deemed themselves disdained, and so mid the sacred rites of the gods 
 and the nightly orgies of Bacchus they tore the youth in pieces, and o'er 
 their broad plains strewed his mangled limbs. Then too, while his native 
 Hebrus carried down the midst of its rolling flood his head, rent from the 
 marble neck, the voice and chilled tongue of themselves called " Eury- 
 dice, ah, hapless Eurydice ! " as the spirit ebbed away; all along the 
 stream the banks replied "Eurydice!" 
 
 528 — 558. Cyrene directs her son to sacrifice four oxen to the Nymphs, 
 and leave the carcases in the sacred grove till the morning of the 
 ninth day : he follows her instruction, and finds the bodies of the 
 oxen alive with bees, which collect in a swarm on the top of a 
 tree. 
 
 So Proteus spoke, and with a bound plunged into the depth of the 
 flood ; and where he plunged, from beneath the eddy he dashed into 
 circles the foaming wave. But not so Cyrene ; for straightway she 
 addressed her anxious son : " My child, you may lighten your heart of 
 its load' of gloomy care. This is the whole course of the malady ; hence 
 it comes that the Nymphs, with whom she used to tread the measure in 
 the lofty groves, have sent destruction on your bees. Do but humbly 
 present your offerings, craving their forgiveness, and do homage to the 
 gentle Napseae ; for in answer to your prayers they will grant you grace, 
 and unbend their angry will. But first I will tell you in order what is to 
 be the manner of your supplication. Select four choice bulls, goodly in 
 form above the rest, which now in your herds graze upon the heights of 
 green Lycaeus, and as many heifers, whose necks have never felt the 
 yoke. For them set up four altars near the stately shrines of the god- 
 desses, and shed from their throats the sacrificial blood, and so leave the 
 bodies of the steers within the leafy grove. Afterwards, when the ninth 
 dawn has duly shown its rising beams, you are to send Lethaean poppies 
 as funeral gifts to Orpheus, and sacrifice a black ewe, and visit again 
 the grove. With a slaughtered heifer you must do homage to appeased 
 
IV. 566.] THE GEORGICS. 77 
 
 Eurydice." Without delay he straightway hastes to fulfil his mother's 
 instructions ; he comes to the shrines, rears the appointed altars, leads 
 forth to sacrifice four choice bulls, goodly in form above the rest, and as 
 many heifers, whose necks have never felt the yoke. Afterwards, when 
 the ninth dawn has duly ushered into heaven its rising beams, he sends 
 the funeral gifts to Orpheus, and visits again the grove. Here it is that 
 they behold a miracle, sudden and wondrous to tell, bees breaking through 
 the melted bodies of the oxen, and buzzing throughout the hollow of the 
 belly, and swarming tumultuously in the sides now burst, and trailing in 
 endless clouds, and in a moment on a tree-top uniting their stream, and 
 hanging in a cluster down from the bending boughs. 
 
 559; — 566. The conclusion of the Georgics. 
 So have I been singing of the tillage of fields, and the tending of 
 herds, and of trees, while by deep Euphrates mighty Caesar flings the 
 bolts of war, and in his conquering course dispenses law throughout 
 ' the willing nations, and even now aspires to tread the path to heaven. 
 I, Virgil, at that time reposed in the lap of sweet Parthenope, plucking 
 the flower of the studies of inglorious ease ; I who warbled shepherds' 
 sportive lays, and bold in youth sung of you, Tityrus, beneath the canopy 
 of your spreading beech. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE ^ENEID. 
 
 Virgil in the Eclogues had described pastoral life amidst the homes of 
 the rude shepherds, but presently he came forth from the woods into the 
 neighbouring fields of the farmers, lastly he was known as the poet of 
 war and religion and policy. As he had before his eyes the city which 
 was the mistress of the world, a city of marble, filled with temples and 
 palaces, enjoying peace both from foreign wars and civil disturbances, as 
 he beheld the closed gates of the mystical Janus, it was natural he should 
 be filled with the desire of celebrating the divine origin of the great 
 republic. But when he who had been enabled to give such perfection to 
 the Georgics as to make them as finished a poem as ever had been 
 written found his days suddenly cut short, it was natural that a poet so 
 fastidious in the structure of his verses should direct that his unfinished 
 poem should be committed to the flames. And yet, though the ^Eneid 
 bears some marks of an unfinished production, one can hardly agree with 
 Richter that Virgil was right to condemn his epic to the fire, if of the 
 poem, as in the case of Hercules on mount (Eta, only the mortal part of 
 it, that is, the hero, ^Eneas, had been reduced to ashes, while the im- 
 mortal part, the episodes and descriptions, had been preserved ; still less 
 would most readers admit the criticism of Niebuhr that the poem was 
 from the beginning to the end a misconceived idea. For almost as 
 much as the Homeric poems are the representation of the heroical life of 
 Greece, almost as in Dante we have a living record of mediaeval faith 
 and opinion, so has the ^Eneid been justly called "The Imperial Poem," 
 " The History of Rome," " The Mirror of the Glory of the Great Republic." 
 The splendour of its diction and the grandeur of its rhythm fully answer 
 to the majesty of the mighty empire. There is a stately march in the 
 verses, which corresponds to the steady progress of the republic of 
 Rome. 
 
 Now this, which appears to be the very heart and soul of the ^Eneid, the 
 poet never forgets. Thus at the very opening of his subject he tells us 
 that his purpose is to shew the origin "of the long glories of majestic 
 Rome." Mention is made almost directly of the great rival city, whose 
 harbours faced the distant mouths of the Tiber, It is to prevent the 
 foreseen ruin of her beloved Carthage that the queen of heaven labours to 
 keep the wanderers from their destined Italy. Jove himself in verses 
 that are more majestic even than the average tone of the ^Eneid unrolls 
 the fates, and predicts the day when after many generations peace shall 
 be restored to the world, and the impious Fury be chained within the 
 barred gates of war. As Troy is sinking into flames, the spirit of its hero 
 Hector and the ghost of Creusa point to a city whose walls are to be 
 eternal, from whose temples the celestial powers shall never depart. The 
 Trojan prince through his many wanderings is consoled and encouraged 
 by the voices of gods and men, which all bid him onwards go to Italy. 
 He is supposed to institute the Actian games, which Augustus celebrated 
 after the battle of Actium. He sojourns at the city, where love would 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE ^ENEID. 
 
 79 
 
 fain keep him from glory. It is that very city whose love was to turn to 
 deadly hate. He cannot rest there, for the mandates of heaven bid him 
 still onwards go, lest Italy should be defrauded of her destined empire. 
 The spirit of Dido is kindled by the thoughts of her great descendant, the 
 mightiest enemy Rome ever had, who though he could not destroy the 
 unconquerable city, yet brought her to the very verge of ruin. In the 
 games on the shores of Sicily the Trojan boys go through the evolutions 
 of a sham fight, in which is portrayed the so-called game of Troy, often 
 celebrated by Augustus in the Circus of Rome, ^neas descends to the 
 Elysian fields chiefly to allow the poet to describe the future glories of the 
 long catalogue of the great men of Rome, among whom those of the 
 house of Caesar hold an especial place. When the hero landed at last on 
 the shores of Italy, portents and oracles had already predicted his arrival, 
 as of one from whom was to spring the Roman race. From heroes, both 
 among the followers of ^Eneas, and among the Italians who warred 
 against the stranger, the poet is careful to tell us were descended some of 
 the great houses of the republic. The Trojan chief visits the seven 
 hills, the site of Rome, and passes through rural scenes, which some day 
 would be built over by the busy streets and splendid temples of the im- 
 perial city. On the divine shield of ^Eneas are represented not the 
 Homeric battles, fields, vineyards, rustic dances, but the events of 
 Roman history ; and in the centre the battle of Actium and the triumph 
 of Augustus, so that the unconscious hero bears on his shoulder the fame 
 and fortunes of his descendants. At the end of a poem in which due 
 honour is given to Italian valour, Juno, the unrelenting enemy of Troy, 
 consents to cease from further persecution on receiving the promise that 
 the name of Troy is to perish, that Latium is still to be Latium, " and 
 Rome's immortal majesty remain." 
 
 Now perhaps it may only be a fancy that finds Cleopatra in Dido, 
 Antony in Turnus, Agrippa in Achates; that sees, in Sinon and the 
 marsh, Marius hiding himself in the morass of Minturnae ; that compares 
 D ranees with Cicero, and Priam's death with the murder of Pompey the 
 Great: but Turnus on the ramparts of the camp is the representation 
 taken from Ennius of Codes on the bridge, for Ennius' Annals was a 
 national poem, even as the ^Eneid was ; Minos in the infernal regions is 
 the Roman praetor or judge ; the battles and camps of the ^Eneid are 
 Roman ; Virgil cares not for anachronisms, he will not tie himself down 
 to the Homeric form; in this national poem we have the Roman banquet, 
 the Roman funeral, the Roman augury, the Roman ambassadors ; 
 throughout it all is the Roman feeling, the perseverance, the stateliness, 
 the attention to details, the vigour and dulness that alike marked the 
 Roman. This is especially the case in the religious part of the poem. 
 The author of the Christian Year has said that, next to Sophocles, Virgil 
 is the most religious of the poets of heathenism. The word religious is 
 ambiguous, and it would be difficult to agree with this opinion, if the 
 word religious is taken in its usual sense. But if by religion is meant 
 a belief in fate, then it is quite true that the ^Eneid is the epic of destiny. 
 We might take as a motto for it Virgil's own line thus rendered by 
 Dryden : 
 
8o VIRGIL. 
 
 But ah ! what use of valour can be made, 
 When heaven's propitious powers refuse their aid ? 
 
 No Stoic dissertation can set forth the power of fate more determinately. 
 Neither Juno, nor Carthage, nor love, nor sword, nor fire, nor sea, nor the 
 fears of his own comrades, can stop the course of fate. The vigorous 
 Turnus contends in vain against destiny : 
 
 The foes that him affright are heaven and Jove. 
 
 The Trojan prince is careful to appease the gods, he is observant of every 
 detail and formula of religion, he is quick to catch the meaning of heaven 
 from the omens of words, from the flight of birds, from the entrails of 
 victims. In this also he is set forth as a type of the true Roman. 
 
 Virgil has lately been called "an untruthful poet, one who walks by 
 lamplight, one who does not sing from the heart, nor to the heart." If 
 Virgil's object was to sing of the foundation of the Roman empire, and by 
 an anachronism, which he is at no pains to conceal, to give to the characters 
 of his epic the Roman form and thought, then he has done this most 
 accurately and truthfully. Virgil commented on by Servius is full of 
 trustworthy information to the antiquarian and historian. Neither is it 
 true to say that "the first thought of Virgil was the emperor and court 
 around the throne, the second the elaboration of his verse." It is of 
 course true that the insipid and unreal character of tineas is the prime 
 fault of the poem, and that ^Eneas is modelled on the character of 
 Augustus. But Augustus may reasonably have appeared to the poet not 
 merely as an emperor, nor had Augustus a court in the sense which the 
 word court conveys to modern ears. Virgil may have reasonably regarded 
 Augustus as the restorer of peace and order to the distracted republic, and 
 his poem may have been toned throughout, not "to a spirit of courtier-like 
 adulation," but to a love of national glory. Homer and Virgil were both 
 national poets. They both represent the character of the nation to which 
 they belong. But the Greek nature was buoyant, energetic, lively, diver- 
 sified; the Roman was staid, persevering, monotonous; hence the differ- 
 ence in the two poets, hence no doubt there is a dulness in nearly all the 
 characters of the ^Eneid. The same will apply to the supernatural part 
 of the two poems. In the Iliad the gods are capricious, passionate, noisy, 
 tumultuous ; their meetings are like the excited assemblies of the populace 
 of Greece in the agorae of their cities ; in the y£neid the gods are more like 
 the senators of Rome ; they deliberate with earnestness and strong feeling, 
 at times with angry vehemence, and yet with solemnity and grandeur, as 
 those to whom was committed the government of a great empire. In the 
 Iliad individual feeling is far better expressed; in the yEneid the power of 
 a community is more clearly portrayed. 
 
 But the ^Eneid is free from the great fault of the Iliad, which is unfair- 
 ness to the Trojans. For Virgil has a feeling for the Trojan settler, and 
 for the Italian native ; for it is the union of these two races which will 
 one day make a people superior in arms and religious observances to any 
 other nation. That there is no adulation in Virgil's poem we cannot say; 
 nor can we deny that if Augustus had been other than what he was, the 
 /Eneid might have been in part free from its greatest fault ; but that 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE JZNEID. 
 
 "Augustus was dearer to Virgil than his country," is what we have no 
 right to say. Again that Virgil elaborated his verse is plain enough in 
 itself, and is expressly mentioned by ancient writers ; sometimes this is 
 over-done, frequently there is an exaggeration of expression, which in 
 part spoils the effect, and now and then almost borders on the ridiculous ; 
 but it is a great thing to have finish of style, it is a great point that 
 the rhythm on the whole should so well express the thought. There 
 is in Virgil — unless the great majority of those who have loved his writ- 
 ings be wrong— a continued appeal to the heart; he does sing from 
 the heart and to the heart ; there is in him a great tenderness of feel- 
 ing, something better and more charming than mere Roman virtue or 
 morality; that he excels in pathos, as Homer in sublimity, is the old 
 opinion ; and it is surely the right one. This pathos is given at times 
 by a single epithet, by a slight touch, with graceful art by an indirect 
 allusion; this tenderness is more striking as contrasted with the stern 
 Roman character, and with the stately majesty of the verse; the poet 
 never becomes affected or sentimental ; he hardly ever offends against 
 good taste ; he knows where to stop ; he is excellent in his silence as 
 well as in his speech ; Virgil, as Wordsworth says, is a great master of 
 language, but no one can really be a master of language unless he be 
 also a master of thought, of which language is the expression. Many 
 are the faults of the ^Eneid ; there is hardly any great poem that has so 
 many ; it wants the unity of the Iliad and the Odyssey ; sometimes it is 
 too long, then again too short ; it is often languid and deficient in fire ; 
 scarcely any of the characters in it are happily drawn; the latter six 
 books are inferior to the first six, a fault which it has in common with 
 Paradise Lost, but one from which the Iliad is quite free, for it gathers 
 force as it goes on ; the ^Eneid has more faults than the epic of Tasso, 
 though fewer than the Lusiad of Camoens. But if it be true that the 
 faults of this poem be so great, great indeed must be the merits which, 
 in spite of these faults, have made it the study and delight of so many 
 centuries, gaining for it an admiration which some years ago seemed to 
 be on the decline, but which is now perhaps, though more discriminating, 
 yet almost as high as ever. From the ^Eneid there are more familiar 
 quotations than from the Georgics ; though the Georgics are far more 
 faultless, yet particular passages of the ^Eneid contain finer poetry. 
 Descriptions of scenery and rural life are more touching when interspersed 
 with the events of war and contrasted with sorrow and death, than 
 when they form the direct part of the poem. In the latter books of the 
 ^Eneid, though on the whole much inferior to the earlier ones, these 
 allusions are more affecting ; and when the poet has landed his hero on 
 the shores of Italy, it almost seems as if the poet himself gladly returned 
 to the description of the woods and rivers, and of the customs and 
 manners of his native land ; as if once more he was not so much the 
 imperial poet of the republic, as the bard who wandered amidst the 
 scenery of his childhood. 
 
 YIR. 
 
%2 VIRGIL. [I. i— 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 i — ii. The Introduction. The Invocation of the Muse. 
 
 Arms and the man I sing, who was the first to come from the Trojan 
 shore to Italy and the Lavinian coasts, the exile of fate : many were his 
 wanderings by land, much was he tossed over the deep by the constraint 
 of the heavenly Powers, through the unforgiving wrath of cruel Juno ; 
 many too in war were his sufferings, whilst he was founding the city, 
 and bringing his gods into Latium ; whence came the Latin race, and 
 the Alban fathers, and the walls of lofty Rome. 
 
 O Muse, relate to me the causes, tell me, in what had her will been 
 offended, or what moved her indignation, that she, the queen of heaven, 
 forced a man so renowned for piety, through the course of so many 
 mishaps, to meet with so many toils. Can heavenly minds feel such 
 resentment ? 
 1 2 — 33. The reason of Juno's unrelenting hatred against the race of Troy. 
 
 There was an ancient city, colonists from Tyre possessed it, Carthage 
 by name, confronting in the far distance Italy, and the mouths of the river 
 Tiber, rich in wealth, rugged in the spirit of war : this town Juno is said 
 to have cherished more than any other land, and to have preferred it 
 even to Samos ; here were her arms, here her chariot ; that this should be 
 the ruling city of the world, would the fates perchance allow it, even in 
 those early days did the goddess intend, and foster the purpose in her 
 heart. Yet she feared, for she had heard that a race was to be derived 
 from Trojan blood, destined in days to come to overthrow the towers of 
 the Tyrian settlers ; hence she had heard should come a people ruling 
 far and wide, glorious in war, who would destroy the empire of Africa ; 
 that thus the fates were moving the cycle of events. The child of Saturn, 
 dreading this, remembering too the old wars which she had been the 
 foremost of the gods to wage against Troy in the cause of her beloved 
 Argos : not yet also had the cause of her wrath, and her fierce resentment 
 faded from her soul : deep stored in her heart remains the judgment of 
 Paris, and the wrong done to her slighted beauty, and the hated race, 
 and the honours bestowed on the ravished Ganymede. By these thoughts 
 fired with rage to crown her fear, she ever drove far from Latium, and 
 tossed o'er the whole main the Trojans, the remnant left by the Greeks 
 and pitiless Achilles; so during many a year wanderers were they, 
 pursued by the fates o'er every sea. So vast a work it was to found the 
 Roman race. 
 
 34 — 49. Juno complains that she alone of the heavenly beings is 
 powerless against a mortal man. 
 
 Scarcely out of sight of the land of Sicily were they speeding their 
 sails out to sea, in high spirits were they, as they dashed up the foaming 
 brine with their brazen keels ; when Juno nursing an eternal wound 
 within her breast, thus to herself began: "What, am I to desist from 
 my purpose, as one defeated, and am I unable to turn back from 
 Italy the king of the Trojans ! The fates, I suppose, forbid me. Why, 
 could Pallas burn the fleet of the Greeks, and drown the mariners 
 
n 
 
 I. 85.] THE JENEID. 83 
 
 in the deep sea, all for the guilt and frenzy of one man, Ajax son of 
 O'ileus? With her own hands did she hurl Jove's rushing lightning 
 from the clouds, she scattered their ships, she lashed up the seas with the 
 winds; as he gasped out flames from his transfixed breast, she caught 
 him in the whirlwind, and impaled him on a jagged rock : but I, who tread 
 with stately pace, the queen of heaven, the sister-wife of Jove, I with one 
 single nation have warred for many a year. And will any one then 
 worship the divinity of Juno any longer, or humbly place on her altars 
 the homage of sacrifice?" 
 
 50 — 80. The description of the cave of JEolns. Juno begs a boo?i of 
 the god of the winds. He professes his willingness to do as the queen 
 bids him. 
 
 As the goddess in her burning soul still pondered thoughts like these, 
 she reached ^Eolia, the home of storms, a region big with blustering 
 blasts. Here king ^Eolus in his dreary cavern restrains under his com- 
 mand the struggling winds and the roaring storms, and curbs them with 
 the bonds of his prison-house. Chafing thereat, his subjects, whilst the 
 mountain murmurs mightily, rage about the bars of the dungeon : on 
 his lofty citadel sits ^olus, his sceptre in his hand, he tames their 
 passions, and controls their rage ; did he not, then straightway sea and 
 land, and heaven's vault they would bear along in their rushing career, 
 and sweep them all through the breezy air. But the almighty Father 
 put them aside in dark dens, through dread of this, and on the top above 
 he placed the mass of mountains high, and appointed them such a king, 
 as knew how, even as he was bidden, by fixed laws either to tighten or 
 loosen the reins of power. To him then Juno in suppliant guise thus 
 addressed these words : "^Eolus, (for thee the father of gods and king 
 of men has appointed both to calm the waves, and again to lift them 
 with the wind,) a nation, w 7 hom I hate, sails o'er the Tuscan sea ; all 
 Ilium and their conquered gods to Italy they bear ; strike strength into 
 the winds, sink and o'erwhelm their ships, or drive them far apart, aud 
 scatter their bodies o'er the sea. I have twice seven nymphs of sur- 
 passing beauty; of all these Deiopea is fairest in form ; her will I unite 
 to thee in sure wedlock, and grant her to thee as thy wife for ever, that 
 in return for such a favour as this, she may pass all her years with thee, 
 and make thee the father of a lovely race." ^Eolus says thus in reply : 
 " Thy work, O queen, is to discover what thou choosest ; it is my duty 
 with zeal to perform what thou dost command. Thy gift to me is all 
 this kingdom which I have, and this my sceptre, thou makest Jove my 
 friend, thou grantest me a seat at the feast of the gods, and causest 
 me to be lord of storms and tempests." 
 
 81 — 123. A storm bursts forth. JEneas laments that he has not fallen 
 by a 7iobler death beneath the walls of Troy. His fleet is scattered. 
 One ship sinks before the eyes of the prince. 
 
 He spoke, and turned the point of his spear, and pushed on its side the 
 hollow mountain ; and lo ! the winds, as though in formed line, rush 
 forth where a passage is allowed them, and blow with a blast across the 
 world. In an instant they swoop upon the sea, and East, and South, 
 and gusty South-west together lash up the whole main from its lowest 
 
 6—2 
 
84 VIRGIL. [I. 86— 
 
 depths, and roll to the shore huge billows. Then follow the shouts of 
 the sailors, and the creaking of the cables. Suddenly the clouds rob the 
 eyes of the Trojans of sky and light together ; sable night broods o'er 
 the deep. The poles thunder, and the firmament glitters with frequent 
 flashes, and all nature threatens the mariners with instant death. Straight- 
 way the limbs of ^Eneas are relaxed with a chilling horror ; he groans, 
 and raising his clasped hands to the stars, he utters words like these : 
 " O blessed, ever blessed they, whose lot it was before their sires 7 eyes 
 beneath Troy's lofty walls to die ! O bravest of the Grecian race, son of 
 Tydeus ! why could not I fall on the plains of Ilium, and breathe out 
 my life beneath your hand ? There lies valiant Hector slain by the spear 
 of ^Eacides, there was slain stout Sarpedon, there Simois bore swiftly 
 beneath his stream and rolled along so many shields and helmets and 
 bodies of the brave." 
 
 As he uttered such complaints, roaring from the North came a squall, 
 striking the sail full, lifting the waves to heaven. The oars are shivered, 
 then the prow swings round, exposed to the waves is the side of the ship ; 
 close in a mass comes on it a precipitous mountain-billow. Some of 
 the ships hang on the crest of the waves ; beneath others the yawning 
 water lays bare the ground between the ridges of the sea ; the surging 
 flood rages mingled with sand. Three galleys the South wind has caught, 
 and whirls towards the reefs ; the Italians call these rocks, that stand in 
 the midst of the waves, "The Altars," a huge chine that overtops the 
 sea; three ships the East wind forces into the shallows and quicksands, 
 (a piteous sight,) and dashes them into the shoals, and shuts them in 
 with a bank of sand. One galley, in which sailed the Lycians, and trusty 
 Orontes, before the chieftain's eyes a mighty sea strikes from above on 
 the stern ; forth is dashed out and rolled into the sea the helmsman ; 
 whilst thrice in the same place the billow whirls the ship, and drives it 
 round and round, and the devouring eddy swallows it in the sea. Scattered 
 here and there they are seen floating in the wide water ; then are seen 
 the arms of the men, planks, and Trojan wealth, strewed over the waves. 
 And now the storm had mastered the stout ship of Ilioneus, and that of 
 brave Achates, and that in which sailed Abas, and that in which was 
 aged Aletes ; loosed were the fastenings of the ribs of the vessels, and 
 they all admit the deadly deluge, and gape with many a chink. 
 124 — 156. Neptune calms the storm. He sends back the winds to their 
 
 prison-house. Nature is once more tranquil according to the will of 
 the god. 
 
 Meanwhile Neptune perceived that the deep was embroiled with dread- 
 ful roar, and that a storm had been let loose, and that the still water 
 beneath was broken up from its lowest pools ; greatly was his wrath 
 stirred at the sight, and looking out o'er the main, he raised his head in 
 serene majesty over the summit of the waves. He sees the fleet of ^Eneas 
 dispersed o'er the whole sea, the Trojans o'erwhelmed by the billows and 
 the wreck of heaven. Full well he discerned the devices and passions 
 of his sister Juno. Eurus and Zephyr he summons to him, then thus he 
 speaks : " Can such confidence in your race possess you, ye winds, that 
 ye have come to this, to dare to mingle earth with heaven without my 
 
I. 181.] THE &NEID. 85 
 
 sanction, and to raise such mountains on the main ? Whom I — but 'tis 
 better far to calm the disturbed waves. Hereafter with far different 
 punishment shall ye atone for sins against me. Tarry not, but fly, and 
 tell my message to your king ; not to him was given the lordship of the 
 sea nor the dread trident, but to me by lot. He holds the savage rocks, 
 the homes of you winds, O Eurus ; in that hall let ^Eolus bluster, there 
 let him reign, when he has closed the dungeon of the winds." 
 
 So speaks the god, and quicker than he speaks he smooths the swelling 
 seas, and scatters the collected clouds, and restores the day. Cymothoe 
 and Triton together lend their help, and push the ships off the jagged 
 rocks; he himself heaves them with his trident, and opes the vast quick- 
 sands, and calms the water's surface; and lightly with his wheels glides 
 o'er the crests of the waves. As oft we see, when in a great people arises 
 suddenly a tumult, and the ignoble crowd rage angrily ; presently brands 
 and stones begin to fly ; their fury finds them arms ; but presently, if 
 they chance to see a man dignified by piety and virtues, they are silent 
 and stand by with listening ears ; he guides their souls by his words, and 
 soothes their passions. Thus all at once is hushed the roaring of the 
 sea, as soon as the Father looking out o'er its surface, and borne onwards 
 through the cloudless sky, guides his steeds, and as he flies, loosens the 
 reins to speed his gliding car. 
 
 157 — 179. The weary Trojans come to a land-locked harbour. Seven 
 ships alone are collected. 
 
 The toil-worn crew of ./Eneas strive to reach in straight course the 
 nearest shore, and turn towards the coast of Africa. Within a long 
 recess there is a spot ; an island forms a harbour by its jutting sides, 
 whereby each wave coming from the main is broken and divides, as it 
 enters the deep creeks. On either side are huge rocks, and twin cliffs 
 which tower frowning towards the sky, beneath whose peaks the water's 
 surface far and wide lies safe and still ; behind, a canopy of woods with 
 quivering tops, and a dark grove with tangled shades overhangs the 
 scene. Full in front beneath is a cave with pendent rocks ; within is 
 fresh water, and seats of natural stone ; this is the home of the Nymphs. 
 Here there is no need of cables to hold the weary ships, no anchor 
 fastens them with hooked bite. In this bay ^Eneas takes refuge with 
 seven ships collected out of his whole ileet : and with an earnest longing 
 for the land the Trojans come on shore, and win the welcome sand, 
 and stretch their limbs drenched with brine on the beach. And first 
 Achates struck a spark out of a flint, and nursed the fire in leaves, and 
 put around dry fodder, and quickly fanned the flame into a blaze in the 
 touchwood. Then they bring forth the gifts of Ceres, though damaged 
 by the water, and the implements of Ceres, weary with their misfortunes ; 
 yet they prepare to parch the rescued corn with the fire, and bruise it 
 with a stone. 
 
 180 — 222. The Trojan prince mounts a rock. He shoots seven deer. 
 He consoles his disheartened comrades. They refresh their bodies with 
 
 food, their souls with conversation. 
 
 Meanwhile './Eneas climbs a rock, to gain a far-extending view over 
 the open sea, in hopes of seeing somewhere the tempest-tossed ships of 
 
S6 VIRGIL. [I. 182— 
 
 Antheus, and the Phrygian gallies ; or Capys' vessel, or the arms of 
 Caicus in the high-raised stern. Vessel in sight was there none : he 
 sees before him three stags straying on the shore ; they are followed by 
 their whole herd behind, and the winding line feeds along the valleys. 
 Here he stopped, and seized in his hand the bow and swift arrows, 
 the weapons carried by trusty Achates ; he lays low the leaders them- 
 selves first, who bore on high their tall heads with branching antlers, 
 and with his arrows drives them before him, and throws into confusion 
 all the crowding throng of deer amid the leafy woods. And he ceases 
 not, till he stretches on the ground seven huge stags, a successful hunter, 
 one for each ship. Then he returns to his harbour, and distributes 
 them among all his comrades. Next he gives out the wine, with which 
 generous Acestes had laden the casks on the Sicilian shore, the hero's 
 gift to the departing mariners ; then with these words he soothes their 
 sorrowing hearts : 
 
 "My comrades, ye who know we are not unversed in ill ere now, ye 
 who have endured worse things than these ; God will grant an end even 
 to this. You drew near Scylla's raging bounds, and the cliffs whose 
 caverns roar ; you too by experience know the rocks of the Cyclops : 
 recall your spirits, and dismiss sad fear ; perchance the day will come, 
 when the memory even of this will be a pleasure. Through various 
 mishaps, through sundry risks and chances, our course is to Latium ; 
 there the fates point to quiet resting-places ; there heaven allows that 
 the kingdom of Troy once more shall rise. Endure hardness, and 
 reserve yourselves for better days !" 
 
 Such were his words : sick at heart with a weight of care, hope in his 
 looks he feigns, deep in his soul his grief he stifles. They busy them- 
 selves about the quarry for the coming feast : some strip the skins off the 
 ribs, and lay the carcases bare ; others cut them up, and fix them 
 quivering on the spits ; others set caldrons on the shore, and put fire 
 beneath. Then with food they recruit their strength, and, stretched 
 along the grass, fill themselves with good old wine and rich venison. 
 When hunger was appeased by their feast, and the banquet o'er, with 
 many words they express their regret for the friends they have lost, 
 wavering between fear and hope, should they believe them still alive, or 
 suffering their final doom, and no longer able to hear the voice that 
 calls on them. Above the rest does pious ^Eneas mourn in his soul 
 the fate of brave Orontes, then that of Amycus, and the cruel lot of 
 Lycus, and valiant Gyas and valiant Cloanthus. 
 
 223 — 253. In heaven Venus complains to her father Jove of promises 
 U7ifulfilled and the wanderings and calamities of a pious race. 
 Now this was ended, when Jove from the summit of the sky 
 looked down on the sea filled with flying sails, and the level lands, 
 and the shores, and the broad expanse of nations, and as he gazed, he 
 took his stand on the peak of heaven, and rested his eyes on the realms 
 of Africa. And there, as he revolved such cares within his soul, Venus 
 sadder than was her wont, with her bright eyes bathed in tears, addressed 
 him thus : " Oh thou who rulest with eternal sway the world of men and 
 gods, and frightest them with thy thunders, what sin so heinous can my 
 
1. 281.] 
 
 THE ^NEID. 
 
 87 
 
 son ^Eneas, or the Trojans have committed against thee? many are 
 the deadly losses they have suffered ; yet still against them the whole 
 universe is closed on account of Italy. And yet surely I had thy word, 
 that from this race should come the Romans, in the cycle of years; yes, 
 from this race, even from the restored line of Teucer, should come rulers 
 to hold sea and land in universal sway ; what change of mind now alters 
 thy will, O Father ? With this promise I for my part oft consoled myself 
 for the fall of Troy, and its sad ruin, as I balanced the fates in opposing 
 scales. But now the same fortune persecutes these men already harassed 
 by many a woe. Mighty monarch, what end dost thou set to these 
 toils ? Antenor, escaping from the very heart of the Greeks, has been 
 able to penetrate even to the bays of Illyria, and safely to pass beyond 
 the inmost realms of the Liburnians, and the fountain of the Timavus ; 
 whence through nine sources, roaring like a mighty mountain, it bursts 
 forth broad as the sea, overflowing the fields with its waters that sound 
 like the deep main. Yet here he founded the town of Padua, and gave 
 his Trojans a settled home, and his name to the nation, and set up 
 the arms of Ilium ; now reposing in perfect peace he rests from his toils. 
 But we thine own offspring, to whom thou promisest heaven's citadel, 
 have lost our ships, (oh cruel lot !) and are abandoned to gratify the 
 wrath of one goddess, and are kept far from the Italian shores. Is this 
 the reward of piety? is this the way thou restorest us to our empire ?" 
 254 — 296. Jupiter briefly unrolls the fates from the war of JEneas in 
 
 Italy to the happy age of A ugustus Caesar, when wars shall cease, 
 
 and the gates of Janus be closed. 
 On her smiled the sire of men and gods with that look with which 
 he calms the sky and storms, and gently pressed his daughter's lips ; 
 then thus he speaks : " Spare thy fears, Lady of Cythera ; fixed and 
 immovable are the fates of thy children according to thy desire : thou 
 shalt behold the city and promised walls of Lavinium; aloft shalt 
 thou bear to the starry sky the noble ^Eneas : my purpose altereth 
 not. Know then that he — for I will declare the fates, since this is 
 the care that torments thee, and will unroll the latter pages of 
 mysterious destiny — he shall wage a mighty war in Italy, and crush 
 the warlike tribes, and impose laws on the nations, and build walls, 
 until the third summer sees him reigning in Latium, and the third 
 winter season is passed since the conquest of the Rutulians. But the 
 boy Ascanius, now surnamed lulus — Ilus was his name, so long as 
 Ilium stood in regal power — shall complete a reign of thirty full years 
 in the cycle of months, and transfer his rule from its seat at Lavinium, 
 and strongly fortify Alba Longa. Here, from this time forth for three 
 hundred entire years, the throne shall be filled by the race akin to 
 Hector, till the priestess-queen Ilia shall bear to Mars her twins. 
 Then Romulus, rejoicing in his helmet of the tawny skin of his nurse, 
 shall succeed to the government of the race, and found the walls of 
 Mavors, and call the people Romans from his own name. To them 
 no bounds of realm, no term of years I set ; an endless empire I 
 appoint them. Nay fierce Juno, who now keeps sea, earth, heaven in 
 turmoil through her fear, will change her purpose to a better course, 
 
SS VIRGIL. [I. 282— 
 
 will unite with me and cherish the Romans, as lords of the world, 
 the nation that wears the toga. Such is my pleasure. As ages glide 
 along, a time will come, when the house of Assaracus will oppress 
 in bondage Phthia and glorious Mycense, and lord it over conquered 
 Argos. There shall be born one, Trojan in his noble origin, Caesar, 
 so great as to bound his empire by the ocean, his renown by the 
 stars, of the Julian house, a name descended from great lulus. The 
 day will come when thou shalt welcome him in heaven, laden with 
 the spoils of the East, and shall put away thy fears ; he too shall be in- 
 voked with vows. Then shall the rough age lay aside wars, and soften ; 
 ancient Honour and Vesta, Quirinus united with his brother Remus 
 shall give forth laws ; the dread gates of war shall be closed with 
 fast iron bars ; within shall unnatural Fury, seated on savage arms, 
 and with hands bound behind by a hundred brazen knots, roar dread- 
 fully with blood-stained mouth." 
 
 297 — 304. Mercury is sent down to Carthage to inspire queen Dido with 
 kindly feelings towards the wanderers. 
 
 He spoke, and sends Maia's son down from on high, that the 
 lands and newly founded city of Carthage may be open to welcome 
 the Trojans, lest Dido, ignorant of fate's behest, drive them from her 
 coasts. The god flies through the world of air, steering his course with 
 the oarage of his wings, and swiftly alights on the shores of Africa. 
 Soon he does what he is bid, and the Carthaginians lay aside their 
 fierce feelings ; for so God wills ; most of all does the queen receive a 
 peaceful soul towards the Trojans, and a kindly mind. 
 305 — 334. jEneas in a forest meets his mother, disguised as a huntress. 
 The pious prince knows the stranger is more than mortal. 
 
 But pious ^Eneas throughout the night pondered many a thought, and 
 as soon as the genial light of day was granted, determined forth to go, 
 and explore the strange lands, to find what coasts the wind had driven 
 him to, who possessed it, men or beasts, (for he sees all uncultivated,) 
 and then to carry back to his comrades the report of his search. Under 
 a vault of woods, and beneath a hollow rock, he hides his fleet, shut in 
 on every side by the tangled darkness of trees ; he himself goes forth, 
 Achates alone attends him, in his hand he brandishes two javelin shafts 
 pointed with broad steel. He met his mother in the midst of the forest ; 
 she had the look and dress of a virgin, and wore the arms of a virgin, 
 either of Sparta, or such an one as Thracian Harpalyce, when she tires 
 her steeds, and outstrips in her course the swift Hebrus. For on her 
 shoulders, in huntress' guise, she had slung a light bow, her tresses she 
 let the winds play with ; bare was her knee, in a knot she had gathered 
 the flowing folds of her robe. Before they spake, she said, " Ho, young 
 men, tell me if perchance you have seen one of my sisters wandering 
 here, girt with a quiver and the skin of a dappled lynx, or with cries 
 pursuing close the flight of a foaming boar." 
 
 Thus spake Venus, and thus Venus' son began in answer: "None of 
 thy sisters have been heard of or seen by me, oh ! by what name shall 
 I call thee, — virgin ? for thy countenance is not mortal, and the tones of 
 thy voice are more than human : ah, thou art a goddess surely ; but 
 
I. 377.] THE uENEID. 89 
 
 whether Phoebus' sister, or one of the race of Nymphs, I know not ; give 
 us thy grace, and whoever thou art, lighten our toils, and instruct us 
 under what climate of heaven we are, to what regions of the world we 
 have been tempest-tossed ; ignorant of the people and the country, we 
 are wanderers, driven hither by the blasts and mighty billows. Many 
 a victim shall fall by my hand in front of thy altars." 
 
 335 — 371. Venus disclaims the honour. She tells him the tale of Didoes 
 wrongs, and her flight, and of her new city and kingdom. She in 
 
 . return asks who he is. 
 
 Then said Venus : " I confess I do not claim such honours as these. 
 With the maidens of Tyre it is the custom to wear a quiver, and to bind 
 high on our legs a purple buskin. You see a Punic kingdom, people of 
 Tyre, a city of Agenor's line ; but the country is African, a race that it is 
 hard to encounter in war. Dido holds sway here, she came from the 
 city of Tyre, she fled from her brother. Long is the tale of her wrong, 
 long are its details, but I will follow the chief events of the history. She 
 had a husband, by name Sychaeus, who was the richest owner of land in 
 all Phoenicia ; strong was the passion with which hapless Dido loved him ; 
 to him her father had betrothed the maiden, and united her in the 
 first auspices of wedlock. But the kingly power of Tyre was held by 
 Pygmalion, a man in wickedness more savage than all others. Between 
 these two there came a furious strife. The king with stealthy sword 
 slays Sychaeus unawares by impious craft before the altar, for he was 
 blinded by the love of gold, and recked nought of his sister's affection ; 
 and long hid the deed, and with many a crafty pretence, and idle hopes 
 mocked the loving wife sick at heart. But unsummoned came in her 
 dreams the spectre of her unburied husband ; he lifted up his countenance 
 wan in wondrous-wise, and revealed the cruel altar, and showed his 
 own breast transfixed with the steel, and laid bare all the dark guilt 
 of the house ; then counsels her to hasten her flight, and to go forth 
 from her country, and unburies from the earth ancient treasure to help 
 her on her way, an untold mass of silver and gold. Roused by these 
 revelations Dido prepared to fly, and collected comrades. There flock 
 together those who felt towards the tyrant either cruel hatred or keen 
 fear : ships by chance stood ready ; these they seize and load with gold ; 
 the wealth of avaricious Pygmalion is borne over the deep main ; a 
 woman led the exploit. So they reached the place where you will now 
 behold mighty walls and the rising towers of the new town of Carthage ; 
 and they bought a plot of ground named Byrsa from the event, for they 
 were to have as much as they could enclose with a bull's hide. But you, 
 whoever are you, or from what coasts are you come, or whither do you 
 hold your course?" As she asked the questions, he sighed, and drew his 
 voice deep from his breast. 
 
 372 — 386. Very briefly the son of Venus tells his fortune. 
 
 " O goddess, if I were to go back to the first beginning, and tell the 
 tale throughout, and thou hadst leisure to hear the story of our disasters, 
 before I had ended, Vesper would close Olympus, and lay the day to rest. 
 From ancient Troy, (perchance the Trojan name has reached your ears,) 
 over distant seas have we been driven; by one of its random chances 
 
9° VIRGIL. [I. 378— 
 
 the storm has brought us to the African coast. I am the pious ^Eneas, 
 who rescued from the foe my household gods, and in my fleet carry 
 them with me ; I am known by fame above the sky. Italy I seek, my 
 true fatherland; my race is drawn from sovereign Jove. With twenty 
 ships I embarked on the Phrygian main, my goddess-mother pointed 
 out the way ; given to me were the fates that I followed. Scarce seven 
 ships, and they shattered by waves and wind, now remain; I myself, 
 unknown, in want, am a wanderer over the deserts of Africa, an exile 
 from Europe and Asia." Venus would allow him to complain no more, 
 but broke in with her speech into the midst of the story of his sorrows. 
 387 — 417. The goddess draws a happy omen from augury. As she 
 disappears, she is revealed to him in glory. He goes onwards 
 enshroicded in a ?nist. 
 
 " Whoe'er you are, I cannot believe that you breathe the air of life, an 
 object of hatred to the heavenly Powers, seeing that you are come to this 
 Tyrian town. Only go on in your way, and proceed hence to the palace 
 of the queen. For see, I announce to you the return of your comrades, 
 and the recovery of your fleet, now borne into a safe harbour by the 
 change of wind, unless my parents vainly professed the art when they 
 taught me augury. Behold those twelve swans in joyful line, whom just 
 now Jove's bird stooping from the region of the sky threw into confusion 
 in the open firmament, but now they seem in a long extended row either 
 to be choosing, or having chosen to be gazing downwards on their 
 ground. As they returning sport with flapping wings, and gird the pole 
 with their circling flock, and give forth their song; even so your ships, 
 and your youthful comrades either are safe in the port, or are just 
 entering its mouth with full sail. Do but onwards go, and as the path 
 leads you, so guide your steps." 
 
 She spake, and as she turned to go, her rosy neck shone forth in 
 beauty, and her ambrosial locks breathed from her head celestial 
 fragrance ; down to her feet at once flowed her robe ; and by her gait was 
 revealed the true goddess. He recognized his mother, and followed her 
 as she fled with these words : "Why art thou also cruel, and why so often 
 mockest thou thy son with empty phantoms? Why am I not allowed to 
 unite hand with hand, and hear and reply in real words?" Thus he up- 
 braids her, and walks onwards to the walls. But Venus, as they went, 
 shrouded them with a dark cloud, and the goddess threw around them 
 a thick cloak of mists, that no one might see or touch them, or trouble 
 them with delays, or ask the reason why they came. She herself in mid 
 air departs to Paphos, and glad of heart revisits her own shrines, where 
 is a temple in her honour, and where a hundred altars smoke with 
 Sabaean frankincense, breathing with the fragrance of garlands ever fresh. 
 418 — 440. Description of the building of Carthage. The Carthaginians 
 are busy as bees. The pri?ice is invisible. 
 
 Meanwhile they hastened on the way where the path guides them. 
 Presently they mounted a hill, which hangs steep over the city, and looks 
 down from its summit on the opposite towers, ^neas admires the mass 
 of buildings, that lately were but Numidian huts ; he wonders at the 
 gates and the din, and the paved streets. Eagerly the Tyrians ply their 
 
I. 474.] 
 
 THE jENEID. 
 
 91 
 
 work; some carry on the walls and build a massive citadel, and with their 
 hands roll up stones ; part choose the site for houses, and mark it out 
 with a furrow. They appoint laws, and choose magistrates and a reverend 
 senate. Here some are digging a harbour; whilst there others are laying 
 the deep foundations of a theatre, and hewing from the quarries huge 
 columns, the tall ornaments of a stage that will be there. As when in 
 early summer o'er the flowery meads beneath the sun the busy bees are 
 at work, when forth they lead the full-grown young of their race, or when 
 they pack their liquid honey, and fill their cells full of sweet nectar, or 
 receive the burdens of those that come in, or form a martial line, and 
 drive forth from their hive the drones, a lazy tribe ; hotly glows the work, 
 and the sweet-scented honey is fragrant with thyme. " Happy people," 
 says ^Eneas, "your walls already rise ;" and he gazes up at the pinnacles of 
 the city. On he goes shrouded by a mist, (miraculous to relate,) passing 
 through the midst, and mingles with the throng, unseen by all. 
 % 441 — 493. In the centre of the city is a grove ', wherein is a temple, and on 
 its walls pictures of the wars of Troy. JEneas is comforted at the sight. 
 In the centre of the city grew a holy grove, luxuriant in foliage, in 
 which place first the Phoenicians, who had been tossed by the waves and 
 whirlwind, dug up an omen, pointed out to them by queen Juno, the head 
 of a spirited steed ; for by this sign it was revealed that the nation would 
 be glorious in war, and gain their substance easily through many an age. 
 Here to Juno's honour Sidonian Dido was raising a great temple, 
 enriched with gifts, consecrated by a divine presence: bronze was the 
 threshold to which the steps ascended, with bronze were the beams 
 fastened, the hinge creaked on doors of bronze. It was in this grove 
 first that an unlooked-for sight came before the stranger and calmed his 
 fears ; it was here first that yfoieas ventured to hope for deliverance, and 
 despaired less of his shattered fortunes. For whilst he surveys each 
 object in the great temple, as he waits for the queen, whilst he thinks with 
 wonder of the fortune of the city, and admires and compares the various 
 workmanship of the artists, and the labour of their hands, he beholds the 
 battles of Troy in all their details, the son of Atreus, and Priam, and 
 Achilles fierce to friend and foe alike. He stopped at the sight, and with 
 tears said : " What place, Achates, what country in the world is not by 
 this time full of our disasters ? See there is Priam ; even here virtue has 
 its due reward, tears are shed for misfortune, and mortal woes move 
 the heart. Away with your fears ; this fame of us will bring you some 
 deliverance." So he speaks, and feeds his soul on the unreal picture, 
 groaning oft, whilst he bedews his cheeks with floods of tears. For he saw 
 represented there, how warring round Troy in one part the Greeks were 
 flying, the Trojan youth pressed them hard ; in another part fled the 
 Phrygians ; Achilles with plumed helmet pursued them close in his 
 chariot. In the next picture he sees, with eyes filled with tears, the tents 
 of Rhesus whose canvas was white as snow, these were made defenceless 
 by their first sleep, and the son of Tydeus, covered with the blood of a 
 great slaughter, was pictured as making havoc of them, and driving off 
 the fiery steeds to the Grecian camp, before they had tasted the fodder 
 of Troy, or drank the streams of Xanthus. In another picture might be 
 
9 2 VIRGIL. [I. 47 5 - 
 
 seen Troilus flying ; he had lost his arms, unlucky boy, a poor match to 
 meet Achilles ; he is borne along by his horses, and lying on his back 
 clings to the empty car, yet still he holds the reins ; his neck and locks 
 are trailed along the ground, and the dust is marked with his inverted 
 spear. Meanwhile to the temple of unfriendly Pallas were seen going the 
 matrons of Ilium with dishevelled hair, and bearing the sacred robe, in 
 suppliant guise and sad, beating their breasts with their hands : the 
 goddess with averted look seemed to keep her face fixed on the ground. 
 Thrice round Ilium's walls had Achilles dragged Hector, and now he was 
 selling his lifeless body for gold. Then indeed deep was the sigh the 
 chieftain gave from forth his heart, as he beheld the spoils and chariot, 
 and the body too of his friend, and Priam holding up his unarmed hands. 
 He knew himself too mingling in fray with the Achaean chiefs, and the 
 troops of the dawn, and the armour of swarthy Memnon. Penthesilea 
 raging in the fight leads the bands of the Amazons armed with crescent 
 shields, glowing with courage in the midst of thousands ; her breast is 
 exposed, she is girt with a golden belt, a female warrior, a maiden who 
 dares to engage in battle with men. 
 
 494 — 519. While he gazes, the queen comes with her retinue. Then are 
 introduced his lost co?nrades. 
 
 While these sights seem so wondrous to Dardan ^Eneas, while he stands 
 as one stupefied, and remains fixed in continuous gaze, the queen Dido, 
 surpassing in beauty, comes in state to the temple, attended by a great 
 company of youths. As on the banks of Eurotas or over the ridges ot 
 Cynthus Diana leads her dances, a thousand mountain- Nymphs follow 
 her and throng around ; she wears her quiver on her shoulder, and as she 
 steps along o'ertops all the goddesses ; Latona's heart with silent joy 
 rebounds ; such was Dido, so did she gaily pass along through the 
 midst, intent on the work and on the glory of the empire that was to be. 
 Then at the door of the goddess' house, beneath the central dome of the 
 temple, girt with armed men and supported on her lofty throne, she took 
 her seat. There she administered laws and statutes to her subjects, and 
 divided in equal shares the portions of the work, or chose them by lot ; 
 when on a sudden ^Eneas sees approaching amidst a great concourse 
 Antheus and Sergestus, and valiant Cloanthus, and the other Trojans, 
 whom the dark storm had scattered o'er the main and driven far away 
 to distant coasts. Astonished were both the chieftain and Achates 
 too, smitten with feelings of joy and fear at once ; eagerly did they desire 
 to join hand with hand ; but the event, not yet understood, confuses 
 their souls. They hide their presence, and under the cloak of the hollow 
 cloud look to see what their comrades' fortunes were, on what shore they 
 had left their ships, why they ail come : for from each ship advanced a 
 chosen band, to pray for the queen's grace, and, amid loud cries, they 
 were entering the temple. 
 
 520 — 560. llioneus, their spokesman, tells who they are, their course, the 
 storm, their wishes. 
 
 As soon as they were admitted, and freedom of speech granted before 
 the royal throne, Ilioneus, the eldest of them all, thus began with calm 
 dignity of speech : " O queen, to whom Jove has granted to found a new 
 
I. 578.] THE MNEID. 93 
 
 city, and with righteousness to curb wild tribes, we Trojans, a wretched 
 band, borne by winds o'er every sea, pray to you ; do you protect our 
 ships from cruel fires, spare a religious race, and with kindly feelings look 
 on our fortunes. We come not with the sword to devastate the African 
 homes, or to plunder, and carry spoil to the shore ; our hearts have no 
 such spirit, nor have the conquered such insolence. There is a land, the 
 Greeks have called it Hesperia, 'tis an ancient realm, mighty in war, rich 
 in its fruitful soil ; there dwelt ^Enotrian men ; now 'tis reported their 
 descendants have named the nation Italian after the leader Italus. Hither 
 was our course, when suddenly arose o'er the billows stormy Orion, 
 and bore us to hidden shallows far away, carried by wanton winds o'er 
 the waves, as the surge mastered us, and o'er inaccessible rocks scattered 
 us ; hither, a poor remnant, we have swum to your shores. What race of 
 men can this be? or what land so barbarous as to be the home of such 
 conduct ? We are denied the welcome even of the sand ; they stir up 
 war, and forbid our settling even on the very edge of the shore. If you 
 reck nought of the human race, and despise mortal arms, yet believe 
 that heaven forgets not right and wrong. A king we had once, ^Eneas 
 by name, in justice, piety, and arms, second to none, a hero, whom, if the 
 fates still spare, if he breathes the air of heaven, and has not yet sunk to 
 the cruel shades, there is no fear of your ever repenting that you were 
 the first to provoke to kindness. There are too cities in the regions of 
 Sicily, and tilled fields, and a prince of Trojan descent, illustrious Acestes. 
 Suffer us to draw up on shore our fleet shattered by the winds, and from 
 the forests to frame new planks, and strip the leaves and fashion oars ; so 
 that, if we be permitted on the recovery of our king and comrades to sail 
 for Italy, we may gladly make for Italy and Latium ; but if that trust be 
 gone, and the deep sea of Africa holds thee, good father of thy people, and 
 the hopes formed of lulus are now no more, that at least we may make 
 for the Sicilian waters, and a home ready for us, from whence we came 
 hither, and may return to prince Acestes." So spake Ilioneus ; with one 
 consent all the children of Dardanus shouted assent. 
 
 561 — 578. Dido modestly replies in words of kind encouragement. 
 
 Then spake Dido briefly, casting her eyes down to the ground : " Free 
 your hearts from fear, Trojans, away with your cares. Necessity, and the 
 new estate of my kingdom force me to such a course, and bid me protect 
 my territories with guards all round. Who can be ignorant of the race of 
 the people of ^Eneas, and of the city of Troy, its heroism and heroes, and 
 the blaze of such a war as that? We Phoenicians wear not hearts so 
 utterly unfeeling, not so far removed from the city of Tyre does the sun 
 yoke his horses. Should you choose to sail for great Italy and the fields 
 of Saturn, or prefer the country of Eryx and prince Acestes, I will send 
 you hence under the guard of my aid, and help you with my means. Or 
 should you wish to settle together with me in this realm, lo ! the city I am 
 founding, 'tis yours ; draw up your ships on shore ; I will put no difference 
 between Trojan and Tyrian, but count all alike. And would to heaven your 
 king himself, driven by the same wind, were here, even ^Eneas. I will do 
 my part, and trusty men will I send through all my coasts to see if he has 
 been cast on shore, and is a wanderer in any forest or city of mine." 
 
94 VIRGIL. [I. 579— 
 
 579 — 6 1 2. The mist dissolves. Apneas appears in the light. He cannot 
 fully express the thanks of his grateful soul. 
 
 These words raised the spirits of brave Achates and father ^Eneas; 
 and long they had been eager to burst forth out of the cloud. First 
 Achates addresses ^Eneas : " Goddess-born, what thought now rises in your 
 soul? You see that all is safe, your fleet saved, your comrades recovered. 
 One only is wanting, he whom in the midst of the waves our own eyes 
 saw sink ; all the rest agrees with thy mother's word." Scarce had he 
 said this, when suddenly the encircling cloud parts, and clears into the 
 open sky. There stood ^Eneas, and suddenly shone forth in beauty 
 amid the clear light ; godlike his face and shoulders ; for his own 
 mother gave him graceful flowing locks, and the brilliant complexion of 
 youth, and inspired his eyes with joyous lustre : as when art adds grace 
 to ivory, or when silver and Parian marble are set in yellow gold. Then 
 thus he addresses the queen, and appearing on a sudden before all, un- 
 looked for, thus he speaks : " I, whom you seek, am present here, even 
 ^Eneas of Troy, saved from the Libyan waves. O you, who alone have 
 showed pity for the unutterable woes of Troy, who welcome in your city, 
 in your home, us, the remnant escaped from the Greeks, worn out by all 
 our troubles by land and sea, in need of all things, 'tis not in our power to 
 pay you due thanks, Dido, nor can all the race of Dardanus do this, which 
 is scattered everywhere in the wide world. May the gods, if any Powers 
 above regard the benevolent, if there be any righteousness in heaven and 
 earth, if any conscience to teach us what is right, may they give you the 
 reward you deserve so well. What age so joyous as to bear you ? What 
 parents so great as to beget so noble a child ? As long as rivers run 
 into the sea, as long as shadows on the mountains traverse the valleys, 
 as long as the pole feeds the stars, so long shall your honour and name 
 and renown be had in remembrance, to whatever lands I am summoned." 
 Thus he spake, and with his right hand grasped his friend Ilioneus, with 
 his left Serestus, then the others, brave Gyas, and brave Cloanthus. 
 613—642. Dido welcomes him into her palace. She pj'epares a splendid 
 
 banquet. 
 
 First at the sight of the hero was amazed Sidonian Dido, then at the 
 thought of his great sufferings; and thus she spake: "What fortune 
 pursues you ever, goddess-born, through so many hazards ? What force 
 of fate drives you to such savage shores ? And are you then that ^Eneas, 
 whom to Dardan Anchises the beauteous goddess of love bore by the 
 stream of Phrygian Simois ? And indeed I too can remember Teucer's 
 coming to Sidon, when driven from his country's coasts, to win a new king- 
 dom by aid of Belus : my father Belus was then laying waste rich Cyprus 
 and held it under his victorious sway. Even from that early time I knew 
 the story of the fall of the Trojan town, and your name and the princes of 
 the Pelasgian race. Wherefore come, ye youths, take refuge under our 
 roofs. Me too through many a disaster a fortune like to yours has tossed, 
 and at length willed that I should rest in this land. Not ignorant of ill, 
 I learn to aid the wretched." Thus she speaks ; withal she conducts 
 ^Eneas to the royal palace, withal proclaims a public sacrifice in the 
 temples of the gods. Meanwhile with no less zeal she sends to his com- 
 
I. 689.] THE jENEID. 95 
 
 rades at the shore twenty oxen, a hundred bristly chines of bulky boars, 
 a hundred fat lambs with their dams, joyous gifts for the festal day. 
 But the house within is furnished with the splendour of princely pomp, 
 and in the central hall they make ready the banquet ; skilfully wrought are 
 the coverlets of bright purple, on the tables is massive plate, and embossed 
 in gold the brave exploits of their sires, a long series of feats, passing 
 through many a hero from the earliest origin of the ancient race. 
 643 — 656. JEneas sends for his son lulus. 
 
 ^Eneas, for the natural love of a father would not let his heart rest, 
 sends forward Achates to go swiftly to the fleet, he bids him bear the 
 presents to Ascanius, and bring the boy to the city. All a parent's love 
 and care is settled on Ascanius. Gifts besides he bids him bring, rescued 
 from the ruins of Troy, a robe stiff with figures in gold, and a veil whose 
 hem was embroidered with saffron acanthus ; once were they worn by 
 Grecian Helen ; she brought them with her from My cense, the day that 
 . she sailed to her unhallowed marriage ; these were the wondrous gifts 
 of her mother Leda ; further, he was to bring a sceptre once borne by 
 Ilione, the eldest of Priam's daughters, and a necklace of pearls, and a 
 crown with blended gems and gold. 
 657 — 696. Venus is full of anxiety. She S7tbstitutes Cupid for Ascanius. 
 
 But the Lady of Cythera ever plans in her heart new frauds, new de- 
 signs, how Cupid transformed in face and look might come in the stead 
 of sweet Ascanius, and by the gifts inflame the queen to frenzy, and 
 insinuate love's fire into her veins : and this, because she dreads the faith- 
 less house, and Tyrians double-tongued. The thoughts of Juno's wrath 
 harass her, and as night draws on her fears return. So with these words 
 the goddess addresses winged Love : " My son, my strength, my great 
 power alone, my son who scornest the thunderbolts of the sovereign Father 
 which he hurled against Typhosus, to thee I come for help ; a suppliant, 
 I pray for thy divine aid. How thy brother yEneas o'er the sea, and round 
 all the shores is tossed by the hate of persecuting Juno, to thee is well 
 known; oft hast thou grieved with my grief. Him now Phoenician Dido 
 detains, and keeps him with her by blandishment of speech, and I suspect 
 how Juno's welcome will end ; Juno will not be inactive at such a crisis 
 of fortune. Wherefore I purpose to anticipate her with my craft, and 
 to encircle the queen with such a flame of love that she may not change 
 through the influence of any god, but be possessed by a passion for 
 ^Eneas as strong as his mother's love. How thou mayest effect this, now 
 hear my plan : the princely boy, summoned by his loving father, is making 
 ready to go to the Sidonian city; he is my dearest care; he is to bring 
 gifts rescued from the deep and the flames of Troy. Him will I cast 
 into a deep sleep, and on the heights of steep Cythera, or on the ridges 
 of Idalium in some sacred shrine will I conceal him, lest by any means 
 he should know our plot, or come in our way. Do thou counterfeit his 
 looks for one night, I ask no more, and thyself a boy assume the boy's 
 familiar face, so that when Dido right joyously receives thee in her 
 bosom amidst the royal banquet, and flowing cups of wine, when she 
 embraces thee and imprints sweet kisses, then thou mayest breathe secret 
 fire, and beguile her with love's poison." Love is obedient to the words 
 
9 6 VIRGIL. [1. 690— 
 
 of his dear mother — his wings he doffs, and gladly imitates the gait and 
 steps of lulus. Then Venus bathes the limbs of Ascanius in calm sleep, 
 and lulls him in her lap, and so the goddess carries him aloft to the high 
 groves of Idalium, where soft marjoram, breathing forth its blossoms, with 
 sweet shade embraces the boy. Thus came then Cupid, obedient to his 
 mother's word, and bringing the royal gifts, delighted to follow Achates 
 as a guide. 
 
 697 — 722. Amidst the splendour of the feast Cupid insidiously infuses 
 passion into the bosom of the queen. 
 When he comes, the queen has already beneath the splendid tapestry 
 reposed herself on her golden couch, and taken her place in the centre. 
 Presently father ^Eneas, and with him the Trojan youth, meet at the 
 banquet, and recline on purple coverlets. The attendants pour water on 
 their hands, and serve the bread in baskets, and bring napkins smooth 
 to the touch. There are fifty female servants within, whose duty it is to 
 prepare the stores in long array, and with fire to light the sacred hearths : 
 there are a hundred other maidens, and as many waiting-men of equal 
 age, whose task it is to load the tables with the viands and set there the 
 cups. Likewise the Tyrians in numbers flocked to the joyous halls, in- 
 vited to recline along the embroidered couches. They admire the gifts 
 ^Eneas gave, they admire lulus, and the glowing locks of the god, and his 
 feigned words, the robe, and the veil embroidered with saffron acanthus. 
 Above them all the ill-fated Phoenician queen, doomed to a coming curse, 
 cannot satisfy her soul ; and as she gazes, so she kindles with love, and 
 the boy and the gifts alike affect her heart. The god first embraced 
 ^neas, and clung round his neck, and gratified to the full the affection 
 of his pretended father ; then to the queen he goes. All her eyes, all her 
 soul on him are fastened ; and again and again Dido fondles him in her 
 lap ; little did she guess, how dread a . god was resting on her hapless 
 self. He meantime forgot not his mother, the goddess of the fountain 
 Acidalia ; but little by little essays to blot out the remembrance of 
 Sichseus, and with a living passion to preoccupy a heart long dead to 
 love, and a soul to which passion has grown strange. 
 723 — 756. The libation, and invocation to the gods. The song and 
 music of Iopas. The queeii asks many a question touching Troy ; 
 she begs of her guest to tell of the fall of Ilium, and of his wan- 
 derings. 
 When the first pause in the banquet came, and the tables were 
 removed, they set the great goblets, and crown the wine with chaplets. 
 A hum of voices passes through the rooms, and their words roll along the 
 spacious halls ; from the fretted roof of gold hang down the burning 
 lamps, and night gives place to flaming torches. Hereupon the queen 
 called for a heavy bowl, set with stones of price and bright with gold ; this 
 she filled with unmixed wine ; Belus had often used it, and all the descen- 
 dants of Belus ; then was there silence in the halls : " Jove," said she, " for 
 thou, they say, givest laws to hosts and guests, may it be thy pleasure 
 to make this day auspicious to the Tyrians, and to those who come from 
 Troy ; may our children still remember this day. Be present too, Bacchus, 
 who makest man's heart glad, and Juno to bless us. And you too, O Tyrians, 
 
II. 25-] 
 
 THE sENEID. 
 
 97 
 
 graciously honour this company." She spoke, and on the table poured 
 the offering of the flowing wine, which when done, she first graced it with 
 her lips ; then with a challenge to Bitias gave the cup. He eagerly 
 drained at once the foaming goblet and swilled himself with the flowing 
 golden cup. After him it passed to the other paladins. On his golden 
 harp long-haired Iopas sings aloud the lore taught him by great Atlas. 
 His lay is of the wandering moon, and of the sun's eclipses ; whence 
 sprang the race of man and the beasts of the field ; whence come the 
 showers and lightning ; of Arcturus too he sings and rainy Hyades, and 
 the twin Bears ; why the wintry suns haste so to dip themselves in the 
 ocean, or what delay obstructs the slow-paced nights. The Tyrians oft 
 repeat their applause, the Trojans follow their lead. Likewise with varied 
 talk did hapless Dido prolong the night, deep were the draughts of love 
 she ever drank ; many a question did she ask touching Priam, many 
 touching Hector ; at one time what was the armour in which came Aurora's 
 . son, then of what kind were the steeds of Diomede, then how mighty was 
 Achilles. " Nay come," said she, "my guest, and pray tell us from their 
 first beginning of the stratagems of the Greeks, and the misfortunes of 
 your countrymen, and your own wanderings ; for this is now the seventh 
 summer that carries you a wanderer o'er every land and sea." 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 I — 13. The preface to the story of the fall of Troy. 
 All were hushed, and fixed their gaze in close attention : then father 
 /Eneas thus began from his lofty couch : " Ineffable, O queen, is the 
 sorrow you bid me revive ; how the Greeks utterly destroyed the power of 
 Troy and her woeful realm, and the sad sights I have myself beheld, and 
 whereof I have formed a large portion. What Myrmidon or Dolopian, or 
 what soldier of the hardy Ulysses could refrain from tears in telling such 
 a tale? and now dewy night is speeding down the slope of heaven, and 
 the setting stars invite to sleep. But if you have such deep desire to learn 
 our disasters, and in a few words to hear the story of the death-struggle 
 of Troy, although my soul shudders at the recollection, and ever shrinks 
 from it in sorrow, I will begin. 
 13 — 57. The device of the wooden horse. While the Trojans debate 
 
 what course to take, Laocoon warns them to beware of a Greek 
 
 stratagem, and hurls his spear at the horse. 
 
 The leaders of the Greeks, worn with war and baffled by fate, when so 
 many years were now gliding past, build, with the aid of the divine skill 
 of Pallas, a horse as huge as a mountain, and form the sides of interlacing 
 planks of fir ; they pretend that it is a votive offering for their safe 
 return : such is the general rumour. In it, in the hollow flank, they 
 secretly enclose the picked warriors they have chosen, and fill full the 
 vast caverns and belly with armed soldiers. In sight lies Tenedos, an 
 island well known by fame, rich and powerful, so long as the realm of 
 Priam lasted, now a mere bay, and an unsafe anchorage for ships ; hither 
 they proceed, and conceal themselves on the desolate shore. We sup- 
 posed they had gone quite away, and that the wind was wafting them 
 
 r 
 
 ViR. 
 
VIRGIL. [IT. 26- 
 
 to Mycenae. Therefore all the land of Troy frees itself from its long 
 sorrow. The gates are opened ; it is a pleasure to go and view the Doric 
 camp, and the deserted stations, and the forsaken coast. Here the troop 
 of the Dolopians, here savage Achilles pitched his tent ; here was the 
 station of the fleet ; here they used to fight in the field. Some view with 
 amazement the pernicious offering to the maiden Minerva, and wonder at 
 the huge size of the horse; and Thymcetes is the first to urge that it 
 be drawn within the walls and placed in the citadel ; whether it were 
 through treachery, or whether the fate of Troy was already bringing 
 on this end. But Capys, and those minds that possessed a better 
 purpose, advise us either to throw down into the sea the thing that 
 was a craft of the Greeks, and a gift that we distrusted, and to put fire 
 under it and burn it, or to pierce and explore the hollow recesses of the 
 womb. The giddy multitude is split into opposite factions. Then it is 
 that foremost, before all the rest, followed by a great crowd, Laocoon 
 eagerly runs down from the height of the citadel, and from afar he cries : 
 " My hapless citizens, how has so wild a frenzy seized you ? Do you 
 believe that the enemy have sailed away ? or do you think that any 
 Grecian gifts are free from fraud? Is such your knowledge of Ulysses? 
 Either the Achseans are enclosed and concealed in this frame, or this is 
 an engine wrought against our walls, intended to spy into our houses and 
 come down upon our city from above, or there is some hidden deceit ; 
 trust not the horse, ye Trojans. Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks even 
 when they bring gifts." So he spoke, and hurled his mighty spear with 
 impetuous force against the flank and belly of the creature with its curv- 
 ing joints. It stuck fast and quivered, and as the womb received the 
 shock, the caverns sounded hollow and uttered a groan : and if such had 
 been the divine destiny, if our minds had been free from infatuation, he 
 had prevailed on us to mangle with the sword the lurking-place of the 
 Argives, and Troy would now be standing, and thou wouldst still remain, 
 O lofty citadel of Priam ! 
 $7 — 104. A Greek , who had surrendered himself prisoner, is brought 
 
 before Priam. He says his name is Si/ion, and that he has bee)i 
 
 ruined by the resentment of Ulysses. 
 
 Lo, some Dardan shepherds meanwhile came, dragging to the king 
 with loud shouts a youth whose hands were bound behind his back, who, 
 though they knew him not, had without compulsion put himself in their 
 way as they approached him, in order to effect this plan, and open Troy 
 to the Greeks, being confident in soul, and prepared for each event, either 
 to work out his craft, or to submit to certain death. From all directions 
 the youth of Troy, in their desire to see the sight, rush crowding round, 
 and are all eagerness to mock the captive. Now receive an example of 
 the craftiness of the Greeks, and from one deed of wickedness, learn what 
 they all are. For when he stood in the midst of the gazing throng, 
 confused, unarmed, and surveyed with his eyes the Phrygian ranks : 
 " Alas," he says, "what land, what sea can now receive me ? or what course 
 in this extremity is left to my wretched self? for not only have I no place 
 anywhere among the Greeks, but even the Dardans also are my enemies, 
 and inflict on me a bloody punishment." By this lamentation our feelings 
 
II. 1 1 g.] THE &NEID. 99 
 
 were altered, and every thought of violence was checked. We encourage 
 him to speak, to tell us of what blood he is sprung, or what story he 
 brings, what he, now captive, has to trust to. He, when at length his 
 fear was removed, makes this speech : " I certainly will declare to you, O 
 king, the whole truth, whatever may be the consequence," he says ; " and 
 I will not deny that I am by birth a Greeks this I say first ; and if 
 Fortune the wicked goddess, has fashioned Sinon to misery, she shall not 
 fashion him to falsehood and deceit. If perchance by hearsay the name 
 of Palamedes, the descendant of Belus, has at all reached your ears, and 
 his story of famous renown, whom the Pelasgi on a false charge, though 
 innocent, on a monstrous information, because he used to oppose the 
 war, condemned to die, (they grieve for him now that he has left the 
 light), my father, being poor, sent me here to the war from my early 
 years, as his comrade and kinsman by blood. As long as he kept 
 his kingly power firm- and unimpaired, and was powerful in the conferences 
 of the kings, we too bore some name and distinction. After that through 
 the malice of Ulysses the misleader, (I speak of well known facts) he left 
 the upper world, I dragged on my clays in persecution, amid obscurity 
 and sadness, and with my own heart resented the misfortune of my 
 guiltless friend. And in my madness I did not hold my peace/ and vowed 
 that if any chance brought it to pass, if ever I returned a conqueror to my 
 native Argos, I would be his avenger, and by my words I aroused fierce 
 enmity against me. From this time began my ruinous downfall, from 
 this time Ulysses always continued to alarm me by new charges, to 
 scatter equivocal rumour among the multitude, and, knowing my purpose, 
 to seek for means to attack me. And indeed he did not rest, until by the 
 agency of Calchas — but yet, why do I uselessly unroll these bitter recol- 
 lections ? or why do I linger, if you account all Achseans to be in one 
 class, and that name is enough for you to hear? This instant take 
 vengeance upon me ; this Ithacus would wish, and the sons of Atreus 
 would pui chase at a high price." 
 
 105 — 14/;. Sinon tells how the oracles of Phoebus cominanded the Greeks 
 
 to ensure a prosperous voyage home by a human sacrifice ; a?id 
 
 that he was fixed upon as the victim by the artifice of Ulysses ; b?it 
 
 made his escape. 
 
 Then indeed we long to inquire and ask the causes of his ruin, ignorant 
 
 of such a depth of wickedness, and of Greek craft ; quaking with fear he 
 
 proceeds, and speaks with feigned feelings : " The Greeks often wished 
 
 to leave Troy, and set about their retreat, and depart, wearied with the 
 
 length of the war ; (and would that they had done so !) as often the 
 
 inclement fury of the sea kept them on land, and the wild winds alarmed 
 
 them in the act of starting. Especially, just at the time that this horse 
 
 formed of maple-beams was standing here, black thunder-clouds roared 
 
 all through the firmament. In our bewilderment, we send Eurypylus to 
 
 inquire of the oracle of Phoebus, and he brings back from the sanctuary 
 
 this terrible response : "With the blood of a slaughtered maiden ye 
 
 appeased the winds, when first, O Greeks, ye came to the coast of Ilium ; 
 
 by blood you must seek the power to return, and the sacrifice, to be 
 
 favourable, demands an Argive life." As soon as this utterance came to 
 
ioo VIRGIL. [II. 120— 
 
 the ears of the multitude, their souls were struck with horror, and a cold 
 shudder thrilled through the marrow of their bones, doubting whose doom 
 fate decrees, whom Apollo requires. Hereupon Ithacus with loud clamour 
 drags into the midst Calchas the seer ; he demands what this will 
 of heaven is. And already many had often warned me of the schemers 
 cruel crime, and had silently discerned what was coming. Twice live 
 days the other remains silent, and shutting himself up refuses by speaking 
 to deliver or expose to death anyone. Scarcely, at last, forced by the loud 
 outcries of Ithacus, he breaks silence by agreement, and dooms me to the 
 altar. All assented, and what each had feared for himself, they endured 
 when diverted to the destruction of a single wretch. And now the 
 dreadful day had come ; for me the sacrificial preparations were being 
 made, and the salted meal, and fillets to place about my brows ; I 
 snatched myself from death, I confess, and broke my bonds, and in a 
 muddy marsh I lay hid all night concealed in the sedge, while they were 
 setting sail, if perchance they would have sailed. And now I have no 
 hope of seeing my old fatherland, nor the children I love, and the parent 
 I long to see, at whose hands perhaps they will even require satisfaction 
 for my escape, and make their miserable death the expiation of this fault 
 of mine. Wherefore by the gods above us and the powers that take 
 cognizance of truth, by whatever unviolated honour, if such there be, 
 still anywhere survives among men, pity such cruel troubles, pity a soul 
 that suffers what it does not deserve." 
 
 145 — 198. In answer to Priain, Sinon declares that the Greeks have 
 constructed the horse as a propitiatory offering to Pallas, a?id that by 
 receiving it within their walls, the Trojans may conquer their enemies. 
 His story is believed. 
 To these tears we grant him his life, and pity him besides. Priam is 
 the first to bid that the man be released from his manacles and tight 
 fetters, and thus speaks in friendly words: "Whoever you are, from this 
 time forward lose and forget the Greeks ; you shall be ours ; and explain 
 to me truly this that I ask you : to what end have they set up this horse 
 of enormous bulk? Who first suggested it? or what is their object? What 
 religious purpose does it imply? or what engine of war is it?" He 
 ended. The other, fully furnished with craft and Pelasgian ' wile, lifted 
 towards the stars his hands set free from bonds : " You, ye eternal fires, 
 and your inviolable divinity I take to witness," he says ; "you, ye altars 
 and accursed swords from which I fled, and ye consecrated fillets, which 
 I as a victim wore, it is no crime for me to annul the allegiance I have 
 sworn to the Greeks ; it is no crime for me to hate the men, and bring 
 all things to light, whatsoever they keep secret ; nor am 1 bound by 
 any of my country's laws. Only do you abide by your promise, and 
 do thou, O Troy, preserve faith with thy preserver, if I shall bring 
 true tidings, if I shall make you a large return. All the hope of the 
 Greeks, and their confidence in undertaking the war, rested on the 
 help of Pallas. Howbeit, since the time when impious Tydides, and 
 Ulysses, the contriver of crimes, having adventured to tear away 
 from the holy temple the fateful Palladium, when they had slain the 
 guards of the summit of the citadel, carried away the sacred image, and 
 
II. 2 1 7.] THE &NEID. 
 
 with bloody hands dared to touch the virgin fillets of the goddess, from 
 that time the hope of the Greeks began to melt away and to slip from 
 them and be carried backwards : their energy was shattered, the mind of 
 the goddess was turned away from them, And Tritonia gave the proof 
 of this by no uncertain prodigies. The statue had scarcely been placed 
 in the camp, when glittering flames kindled in the upraised eyes, and salt 
 sweat ran through the limbs, and the goddess herself (wondrous to tell) 
 thrice sprung from the ground, bearing both her shield and quivering 
 lance. Straightway Galenas pronounces that they must begin a retreat 
 across the sea and that Pergama cannot be destroyed by Argive weapons 
 unless they seek for new auspices from Argos, and bring back afresh the 
 favour of Heaven, which they had carried away with them over the sea 
 in their curved vessels. And now, since wafted by the wind they have 
 made for their native Mycenae, they are providing the means ot war and 
 seeking to make the gods their comrades, and they will traverse the sea 
 again, and be here unexpectedly. So Calchas expounds the omens. By 
 his advice they have set up as an atonement for the Palladium, for the 
 wrong done to the divinity, this image, to expiate the dreadful sacrilege. 
 However, Calchas bid them raise this mass to so vast a size formed of 
 a framework of oak, and build it up to heaven, that it might not be taken 
 in by the gates, or drawn within the walls, nor guard the people under 
 the shelter of the old faith. For he said that if your hand had done 
 violence to the gift of Minerva, then utter destruction — which boding 
 may heaven first turn upon himself! — would befal Priam's empire and the 
 Phrygians ; but that if by your hands it went up into your city, Asia, 
 without waiting to be attacked, would come, bringing a mighty war to the 
 walls of Pelops, and that that doom would await our descendants." By 
 means of such deceptions and the craft of the perjured Sinon, the state- 
 ment was believed, and those men were caught by wiles and forced tears, 
 whom neither Tydides nor Thessalian Achilles, nor ten years, nor a 
 thousand ships subdued. 
 
 199 — 249. The terrible death of Laocoon and his sous. The Trojans 
 open their walls, and drag the horse into the city. 
 Hereupon another sight, greater and far more fearful, is presented to us 
 hapless wretches, and affrights our benighted minds. Laocoon, appointed 
 by lot to be the priest of Neptune was about to slaughter a huge bull at 
 the wonted altars. But lo, coming from Tenedos over the tranquil deep, 
 (I shudder as I relate it) a pair of snakes with endless folds lie along the 
 main, and together make their way to the shore ; their breasts reared up 
 amid the waves and their bloody crests o'ertop the surge, the rest of the 
 body makes a trail in the sea behind it, and winds along in a roiling coil 
 the endless length of the back ; a sound is heard as the sea is lashed into 
 foam. And now they had reached the fields, and with their burning eyes 
 suffused with blood and fire, licked with quivering tongues their hissing 
 mouths. We at the sight flee away bloodless with fear ; they in unwaver- 
 ing line go up to Laocoon; and first, each serpent encircling the tiny 
 bodies of his two sons twines around them, and with its fangs preys upon 
 their wretched limbs ; afterwards they seize upon himself, as he comes up 
 to help with weapons in his hand, and enchain him with their enormous 
 
102 VIRGIL. [II. 218— 
 
 spiral wreaths, and now having twice encompassed his waist, having twice 
 wound their scaly backs about his throat, the)^ o'ertop him with the head 
 and towering neck. He at the same time struggled with his hands to 
 tear apart the knots, his fillet steeped in clotted gore and black venom ; 
 at the same time he lifts to heaven frightful cries ; like the bellowings of 
 a wounded bull when it has. escaped from the altar, and dislodged from 
 its neck the ill-directed axe. But the pair of dragons glide in flight to 
 the top of the temple, and make for the citadel of cruel Tritonis, and hide 
 themselves beneath the feet of the goddess and the circle of her shield. 
 Then indeed terror unfelt before steals through the frighted hearts of all, 
 and they say that Laoooon has paid the righteous penalty of his crime, 
 seeing that he has violated with his lance the holy frame, and hurled 
 against its side his sacrilegious spear. With one voice they cry that the 
 image must be drawn to its temple, and the divinity of the goddess in- 
 treated. We cleave the walls, and lay open the battlements of the city. 
 All apply themselves to the work, and place beneath the feet rolling 
 wheels, and stretch over the neck bands of flax. The fatal engine climbs 
 the walls, big with arms. Around it boys and unwedded girls chant sacred 
 songs, and delight to take in their hands the rope. It ascends, and 
 threatening glides into the heart of the city. O my country! O Ilium, 
 home of gods, and Dardan battlements renowned in war! Four times, 
 just in the threshold of the gate, it stood still ; and four times the arms 
 rang loud in the womb ; still we press on, unthinking, and blinded with 
 frenzy, and set the inauspicious monster in the sacred citadel. Then too 
 Cassandra opened her lips to speak the doom that was to be, her lips, by 
 heaven's command, never believed by the Trojans. We, unhappy men, 
 for whom that day was to be the last, overspread with garlands the 
 shrines of the gods all through the city. 
 
 250 — 267. In the night the Greeks sail back from Tenedos. Sinon opens 
 the horse, and Troy is stormed by the enemy. 
 
 Meanwhile the sphere of heaven moves round, and night rushes up from 
 the ocean, wrapping in her universal shade both earth and sky and the 
 craft of the Myrmidons ; the Trojans are stretched in silent rest through- 
 out the town ; sleep clasps their weary limbs. And now the Argive host 
 was advancing in naval array from Tenedos, making for the well-known 
 shores amid the friendly silence of the moon, when the royal ship sud- 
 denly shot forth the signal flame, and Sinon, protected by the partial 
 doom of heaven, unbolts the bars of pine, and sets free the Greeks 
 imprisoned in the womb. The opened horse restores them to the light, 
 and joyfully come forth from the hollow frame Thessander and Sthenelus 
 foremost, and accursed Ulysses, slipping down by the hanging rope, and 
 Acamas and Thoas and Neoptolemus the descendant of Peleus, and in 
 the front Machaon and Menelaus, and Epeus himself, the builder of the 
 deceit. They assault the city buried in sleep and wine ; the guards are 
 slain, and throwing open the gates they admit all their comrades, and 
 combine with themselves the host of their partisans. 
 
 268 — 297. The ghost of Hector appears to JEneas and tells him the doom 
 
 of Troy. 
 
 'Twas the hour when the first slumber of suffering men begins, and 
 
II. 3 HO 
 
 THE JENEID. 
 
 103 
 
 steals on right welcome by the grace of God ; lo, as I slept, before my eyes 
 Hector full of sorrow seemed to stand and shed a flood of tears,' as if 
 dragged along by the car as once he was, and blackened with bloody 
 dust, and his swollen feet pierced through with thongs. Ah me, how sad 
 he looked ! how much changed from that Hector who came back: arrayed 
 in the spoils of Achilles, or when he hurled Phrygian flames against the 
 Grecian ships ! Wearing as he did a squalid beard and hair clotted with 
 blood, and all that multitude of wounds that he received around the walls 
 of his native city. I, weeping too, seemed to anticipate the hero by 
 addressing him and uttering words of sorrow: "O light of Dardania, 
 
 surest hope of Troy, what is it that has kept you away so long? O 
 Hector, long expected, from what region do you come ? How gladly we 
 behold you in our utter exhaustion, after many a death among your 
 people, after the various woes of the host and of the city! What cause 
 has shamefully marred the calm brightness of your face ? Or why do 
 
 1 see these wounds upon you?" He answers nought, nor heeds my vain 
 inquiries; but heaving deep-drawn sighs from the bottom of his breast: 
 "Alas, flee, goddess-born,- 1 ' he says, "and escape from these flames. The 
 walls are held by the enemy ; Troy from its very summit is sinking into 
 ruins ; you have fulfilled your duty to your country and to Priam ; if 
 Pergama could be protected by a strong hand, it would have been pro- 
 tected by this of mine also; Troy entrusts to you her rites and her 
 household gods ; these take to share your destinies, for these search out 
 the mighty city, which you shall set up at last, when you have wandered 
 over all the sea." So he says, and in his hands brings forth the image 
 of mighty Vesta with her fillets, and the undying fire from the secret 
 sanctuary. 
 
 298 — 369. JEneas awakes , and finds that the city is in flames. He is 
 met by Panthens, the priest of Apollo, and other Trojans. They 
 resolve to sell their lives dearly. 
 
 Meanwhile the town is filled with tumultuous woe in all directions. 
 And although the mansion of my father Anchises w T as retired from 
 view by its secluded situation and its shadowing trees, still louder and 
 louder grow the sounds, and the terror of battle comes close upon 
 us. I am startled from sleep, and mount up to the highest point of 
 the sloping roof, and take my stand with keenly listening ears. As 
 when the flame lights upon the standing corn, when the winds are 
 raging, or a mountain torrent with its rushing stream devastates the 
 fields, devastates the smiling crops and the toils of the oxen, and drags 
 down the forests with headlong force ; the shepherd stands amazed 
 and perplexed as he catches the sound from the lofty summit of a 
 rock. Then indeed the truth is evident, and the stratagem of the 
 Greeks revealed. Already the mansion of Deiphobus throughout its 
 length and breadth has fallen into ruins, as the god of fire prevails ; 
 already the house of my neighbour Ucalegon is burning ; far and wide 
 the Sigean channel gleams with the blaze. TJiere arises the cry of 
 men and the clang of trumpets. Distractedly I take my arms ; and 
 in taking them I have no adequate method ; but my spirits yearn to 
 
104 VIRGIL. [II. 3E5 — 
 
 muster a troop for battle, and to hasten to the citadel with my comrades ; 
 frenzy and rage give me reckless resolution, and. methinks it were glorious 
 to fall fighting. 
 
 But lo, Pantheus, escaped from the weapons of the Greeks, Pantheus 
 the son of Othrys, the priest of Phcebus in the citadel, with his own 
 hands drags along the sacred vessels, and his vanquished gods, and his 
 little grandson, and distractedly comes running to my door. " How 
 stands the fortune of the state, Pantheus ? What stronghold are we 
 to seize?" Scarce had I spoken the words, when with a groan he answers 
 thus : " Troy has reached her final day and her inevitable hour. We 
 Trojans are no more ; Ilium is no more, and the mighty renown of 
 the Teucri : relentless Jove has transferred all power to Argos ; the 
 Greeks lord it in the city they have fired. The horse, erect in the 
 heart of the town, pours forth from its height armed men, and Sinon, 
 now a conqueror, insolently flings the flames abroad. Some are crowd- 
 ing in at the double gates, all the thousands that ever came from proud 
 Mycenae ; others with their weapons have barred the narrower streets 
 in fronted ranks ; the sharp sword with glittering blade is drawn and 
 fixed, prepared to kill ; the guards in the passage of the gates hardly 
 attempt a contest, and resist in aimless war." By such words of the 
 son of Othrys and by the will of heaven, I am carried into the flames 
 and the fight, whither the fell fury of battle, whither the din calls me, 
 and the clamour that goes to the sky. Comrades join me, Rhipeus, 
 and Epytus mighty in arms, presented by the moonlight, and Hypanis 
 and Dymas, and cluster to my side, and the young Corcebus, the son 
 of Mygdon. He in those days had chanced to come to Troy, fired by 
 frantic love for Cassandra, and as a son-in-law brought aid to Priam 
 and the Phrygians, ill-fated, not to have listened to the promptings 
 of his raving maiden. When I saw that they formed a band, and 
 were bold for battle, I to incite them further, begin in these words : 
 " Warriors, hearts in vain most valiant, if you have a determined desire 
 to follow one of desperate daring, you see what is the state of our 
 fortunes ; the gods by whom this realm stood fast, have all departed 
 from it, and left the sanctuaries and shrines ; haste to succour a city 
 that is set on fire ; let us die, and rush into the thickest of the fight. 
 To despair of being saved by any means is the only means of safety 
 for the vanquished." So the spirit of the warriors is heightened to 
 frenzy. Thereupon like ravening wolves in a dark mist, when the 
 audacious rage of hunger drives them reckless forth, and the cubs 
 they have left wait for them with dry jaws, we make our way through 
 weapons, through foes, to no uncertain death, and constantly press on 
 to the centre of the city ; black night hovers round us with her dark 
 vault. Who in words could describe fully the carnage, the deaths of 
 that night, or be able with tears to match our troubles ? An ancient 
 city is falling, whose sovereignty has lasted many a year ; helpless 
 forms in vast numbers are stretched on all sides, both throughout the 
 streets and throughout the houses, and the hallowed thresholds of the 
 gods. Nor from the Trojans only is exacted the penalty of blood ; 
 sometimes to the hearts of the vanquished also valour returns, and the 
 
II. 4 1 6.] THE ^ENEID. 105 
 
 victorious Greeks fall. Everywhere is cruel woe, everywhere is panic 
 
 and death in many a shape. 
 
 370 — 437. Apneas and his party are at first successful, but fortune soon 
 
 turns against them, and the band is slain or scattered. yEneas reaches 
 
 the palace. 
 Androgeos first, accompanied by a large troop of Greeks, comes 
 to meet us, believing in his ignorance that w r e are a body of his coun- 
 trymen, and without challenge, accosts us with friendly words : " Haste, 
 my men ; why, what slothfulness has kept you back so long ? others 
 are spoiling and plundering the burning Pergama ; you are only just 
 now marching from the tall ships." He spoke; and in a moment — 
 for indeed no reply that he could trust was given him — he perceives 
 that he had fallen into the midst of foes. He was amazed ; and checked 
 and drew in both step and voice. As one who unawares treads upon 
 a snake on the ground in thorny brambles while he struggles along, and 
 flees back from it with sudden start, as it rises up with growing rage, 
 and with its azure throat dilating; like him Androgeos, struck with 
 terror at the sight, began to retreat. We rush upon them, and encom- 
 pass them with our arms, and cut them down in all directions, ignorant 
 of the ground, and seized with fright. Fortune assists our first effort. 
 And hereupon Corcebus, exulting in the success and in his high spirit : 
 u My comrades " says he, " let us follow where fortune points the way 
 to safety, and where she shows herself gracious ; let us change our 
 shields, and fit ourselves with the accoutrements of the Greeks. 
 Whether it be craft or valour, who would ask in dealing with a foe ? 
 They shall give us arms themselves." When he had thus spoken, 
 he proceeds to put on the shaggy helmet and the handsome and con- 
 spicuous shield of Androgeos, and girds to his side the Argive sword. 
 So does Rhipeus, so Dymas too, and all the warriors joyfully; each 
 man arms himself with the newly-taken spoils. We make our way 
 mingled with the Greeks, by the help of a divinity not our own, and in 
 many a close conflict we engage amid the darkness of the night, many 
 a Greek we send down to Orcus. Some flee in disorder to the ships, 
 and at full speed make for the security of the shore ; some in shame- 
 ful terror again climb the gigantic horse, and hide themselves in the 
 well-known womb, Alas, no man may rely at all on heaven against 
 its will. Lo, the virgin daughter of Priam, Cassandra, was being 
 dragged by her loosened hair from the temple and sanctuary of 
 Minerva, straining to the sky her burning eyes in vain, her eyes, for 
 fetters confined her tender hands. The infuriate mind of Corcebus 
 endured not this sight ; and he threw himself to certain death into the 
 midst of the troop. We all follow him together, and make an onslaught 
 with serried ranks. Here it is that first we are overwhelmed by missiles 
 of our own countrymen from the lofty top of the temple, and a piteous 
 carnage commences through the form of our armour and the mistake 
 caused by our Grecian plumes. Then the Greeks, with a groan of rage 
 at the rescue of the maiden, crowding from all sides attack us, Ajax 
 fiercest of all, and both the sons of Atreus, and all the army of the 
 Dolopians ; as sometime, when a hurricane bursts forth, opposing 
 
io6 VIRGIL. [II. 417- 
 
 winds meet in conflict, both Zephyrus and Notus, and Eurus rejoicing 
 in the horses of the East ; the forests creak, and Nereus, all foaming, 
 wields his furious trident, and wakes the waters from their lowest 
 depth. All those, too, whom in the darkness of night amid the gloom 
 we had routed by our stratagem, and driven through the whole city, 
 appear ; they are the first to recognize the imposture of our shields 
 and weapons, and mark the incongruous sound of our speech. There- 
 upon we are crushed by numbers ; and Corcebus first by the hand of 
 Peneleus, is stretched beside the altar of the goddess mighty in battle ; 
 Rhipeus also falls, who was above all others the most just among the 
 Trojans, and the strictest observer of right ; Heaven willed otherwise ; 
 both Hypanis and Dymas perish, pierced through by their countrymen ; 
 nor did your great piety nor the garland of Apollo shield you as you 
 fell, O Pantheus. Ashes of Ilium, and thou, last fire of my people, 
 I take you to witness, that in your wreck I shunned not the weapons 
 nor any encounter with the Greeks, and that, should it have been my fate 
 to fall, my hand had earned my death. After that, we were parted by 
 force, Iphitus and Pelias with me, of whom Iphitus was beginning to feel 
 the weight of age, and Pelias slow of foot through a wound dealt by 
 Ulysses ; straightway we were called by the din to the palace of Priam. 
 438 — 468. Descriptio7i of the co7iflict in defence of Priam 'j palace. 
 Here it is that we behold a mighty contest, as if all the other fights 
 had no existence anywhere, as if none were dying in all the city beside ; 
 so fierce a contest we behold, and the Greeks rushing to attack the roof, 
 and the doorway blocked up by the mantlet that is brought against it. 
 The scaling-ladders are fixed to the walls, and even close to the door- 
 posts they struggle up the steps, and with the left-hand meet the mis- 
 siles by the protection of their shields, with the right grasp the bat- 
 tlements. Against them the Dardans pluck up towers and the top- 
 most roofing of the houses ; with these missiles they prepare, at the 
 point of death, to defend themselves ; for they see the end : and gilded 
 beams they tumble down, the lofty splendour of their ancestors of yore ; 
 others with drawn swords have barred the doorways below ; these they 
 guard in close array. Our courage is renewed to succour the dwelling 
 of the king, and relieve the warriors by our assistance, and furnish 
 fresh vigour to the vanquished. There was a threshold, and a con- 
 cealed door, and a clear communication with the several parts of Priam's 
 palace, and an entrance placed secretly at the back, by which ill- 
 fated Andromache, while the realm endured, used often to pass un- 
 attended to her father and mother-in-law, and bring to his grandsire 
 the child Astyanax. I make my way up to the highest point of the 
 sloping roof, whence the hands of the hapless Trojans were hurling 
 their unavailing missiles. Having assailed all round with iron levers, 
 at the point where the highest floor allowed us to make it totter at the 
 joining, a tower that stood with sheer descent, and with its topmost 
 roof raised up towards heaven, (whence all Troy used to be seen, and 
 the ships of the Greeks, and the Achaean camp,) we wrenched it from 
 its deep foundations, and forced it forward ; down in sudden fall it 
 brings the crashing ruin, and far and wide it lights upon the Grecian 
 
II. 5 1 1 .] THE yENEID. 
 
 ranks. But others take their place, nor meanwhile does the shower of 
 stones or of any sort of missiles abate. 
 
 469 — 505. At last Pyrrhus bursts in, resistance is soon at an end, and 
 the palace is destroyed. 
 
 Just in front of the court, and in the entrance of the gate, Pyrrhus 
 proudly fights, glittering in arms of brassy gleam ; as when into the 
 light an adder, fed on poisonous herbs, whom the cold of winter kept 
 swollen underground, now all new, its slough cast off, and shining 
 in youth, rolls along with breast erect its slimy length, towering to 
 the sun, and shoots out its quivering three-forked tongue. At the 
 same moment the giant Periphas, and the driver of the horses of 
 Achilles, the armour-bearer Automedon, at the same moment all the 
 men of Scyros, press into the palace and hurl incessantly flames to 
 the roof. He himself among the foremost has seized a double axe, 
 and is breaking through the solid entrance, and tearing away from 
 the hinges the brass-bound door, and already he has cut through the 
 planks, and hewn out a breach in the stout oak, and made a huge 
 opening with yawning mouth. The palace within appears to view, and 
 the long halls are disclosed ; the inmost chambers of Priam and of 
 the old kings appear to view, and they see armed men standing in the 
 entrance of the gate. But the interior of the house is in a tumult of 
 groans and piteous confusion, and the vaulted mansion from end to 
 end is loud with the wail of women ; the clamour strikes the golden 
 stars. Then trembling matrons wander through the vast palace, and 
 tightly clasp the door-posts and print kisses upon them ; Pyrrhus follows 
 close with his father's fury ; neither bolts nor even guards can stand 
 against him ; the door totters beneath repeated blows of the battering- 
 ram, and the door-posts are knocked from the hinges and fall to the 
 ground. Force finds a way; the Greeks flocking in violently open out 
 a passage, and cut down the foremost, and crowd the space everywhere 
 with soldiers. Not with such force a foaming river, when it bursts 
 its embankments and rushes forth, and overwhelms with its flood the 
 mounds that stand in its way, pours in a mass furiously over the fields, 
 and all across the plains carries away herds and stalls together. With 
 'my own eyes I saw Neoptolemus mad with slaughter, and both the 
 sons of Atreus in the entrance of the palace ; I saw Hecuba and her 
 hundred daughters-in-law, and Priam among the altars polluting with 
 his blood the fires that he himself had hallowed. Those fifty bridal 
 chambers, that large promise of grand-children, those door-posts, proudly 
 adorned with barbaric gold and spoils, fell to the ground ; the Greeks 
 are masters where the fire fails. 
 
 506 — 558. The history of Prianis death. His headless body lies 011 
 
 the shore. 
 
 Perhaps you may also inquire what was the fate of Priam. So 
 soon as he beheld the downfall of his captured city, and the doors 
 of his mansion torn away, and the foe in the very heart of his inmost 
 chambers, he uselessly arrays his shoulders that tremble with years' in 
 the armour his old age had long disused, and girds on his powerless 
 sword, and, sure to perish, is rushing into the crowded ranks of the 
 
io8 VIRGIL. [II. $ it- 
 
 enemy. In the heart of the palace and beneath the open firmament 
 of heaven, there stood a great altar, and near it a very ancient bay-tree, 
 leaning over the altar, and embracing the Penates in its share. Here 
 Hecuba and her daughters were sitting about the altar in vain, like 
 doves driven downward by a black tempest, cowering together, and 
 clasping the images of the gods. But as soon as she saw Priam him- 
 self wearing youthful arms : "What resolve so frantic, my most unhappy 
 husband, has impelled you to gird yourself with these weapons?" she 
 says; "or whither are you blindly rushing? It is not such help, nor 
 such defenders as those that the hour needs ; no, not if my Hector 
 himself were here. Retreat hither at last ; this altar will protect us all, 
 or you will die with us." So she spoke, and received the old king to 
 herself, and set him in the sacred place. But lo, escaped from the 
 murderous hand of Pyrrhus, Polites, one of the sons of Priam, through 
 missiles, through foes, flees along the length of the colonnades, and, 
 wounded though he is, traverses the empty halls ; him Pyrrhus fiercely 
 presses hard in act to strike ; and now, now, he grasps him, and is 
 upon him with his lance ; at last, at the moment that he came to view, 
 before the eyes and face of his parents, he fell down, and poured out 
 his life in a torrent of blood. Hereupon Priam, although he now lies 
 in the midst of death, yet does not. refrain himself, nor spare his voice 
 and wrath : " Nay, may the gods," he cries, " if there be any kind 
 Power in heaven, to watch such deeds, render you all the thanks you 
 deserve, and yield you your due reward, for such a crime, for such a 
 sacrilege, you who have forced me to see before my face the death of 
 my son, and have defiled with the sight of his murder his father's 
 eyes. But that hero, Achilles, whose son you falsely say you are, was 
 not like you towards his enemy, Priam ; but respected the rights and 
 sanctity of his suppliant, and gave up to the tomb the lifeless body 
 of Hector, and sent me back to my realm." So the old man spoke, 
 and hurled his feeble forceless spear, which was at once repelled by 
 the ringing brass, and ineffectually dropped from the outermost fold 
 of the shield. To whom Pyrrhus : " Then you shall carry this news, 
 and go as a messenger to my father Pelides ; be sure to tell him the 
 story of my fell deeds, and of the degeneracy of Neoptolemus. Now 
 die:" as he said this, he dragged him even to the altar, all trembling, 
 and slipping in the blood shed in torrents by his son, and twined his 
 left hand in his hair, and with his right drew aloft his glittering sword, 
 and buried it up to the hilt in his side. This was the end of Priam's 
 fortunes ; by this departure it was his lot to be borne away, while he 
 beheld Pergama burnt with fire and sunk to ruin, he, once proudly 
 great in so many nations and countries, the monarch of Asia. He lies 
 upon the shore a huge trunk, and a head torn from the shoulders, and 
 a corpse without a name. 
 
 559 — 623. The despair of JEmas. He sees HeleJi atteinpting to hide 
 
 herself in the temple of Vesta. In his anger, he resolves to kill her, 
 
 but is checked by Venus, who bids him save his family from the 
 
 ordained destruction of Troy. 
 
 But then it was that dread shuddering first fell around me ; I was 
 
II. 6u.] 
 
 THE A^VEID. 
 
 109 
 
 horror-struck ; the form of my beloved father came into my mind, as I saw 
 the king, his equal in age, panting out his life beneath a cruel wound; 
 my desolate Creusa came into my mind, and the destruction of my house, 
 and what might have chanced to my little lulus. I look back, and gaze 
 around, to see what numbers are about me. All have left me through 
 utter weariness, and have flung their bodies down to the ground or drop- 
 ped them exhausted into the flames. And now indeed I was the only one 
 left, when I descry the child of Tyndareus lurking within the temple of 
 Vesta, and silently hiding herself in the sacred shrine. The bright blaze 
 throws a light upon her, as she paces about, and casts her eyes hither and 
 thither over everything. She, with dread foreseeing the enmity of the 
 Trojans against her for the overthrow of Pergama, and the punishment 
 the Greeks would inflict, and the wrath of the husband she had deserted, 
 she, Troy's common Fury and her country's, had concealed herself, and 
 was crouching among the altars like a thing abhorred. A flame blazed 
 up in my soul ; indignation prompts me to avenge my falling fatherland, 
 and exact the penalty of her crimes. " Shall it be that this woman shall 
 with impunity see Sparta and her native Mycenae? and pass along, a 
 queen, in the triumph she has won, and behold both her husband, and her 
 family, her parents and her children, attended by a train of Trojan women, 
 and Phrygian handmaids ? And this, when Priam is slain with the sword, 
 when Troy is burnt with fire, when the Dardan shore has so often reeked 
 with blood? Not so. For although there is no glorious renown in the 
 punishment of a woman, and the victory possesses no praise, yet I shall 
 be praised for having blotted out an abomination, and exacted a well- 
 deserved penalty ; it will be a pleasure to have tilled my soul with the fire 
 of revenge, and satisfied the ashes of my people ! " Such words were 
 springing from me, and I was borne along by my frantic design, when my 
 gracious mother revealed herself to my sight, never before so clear to my 
 eyes, and through the darkness beamed in perfect light, apparent god- 
 dess, both in beauty and in majesty such as she is wont to be seen 
 by the dwellers in heaven, and caught me by the hand and checked 
 me, and added these words besides from her rosy lips : " My son, what 
 is this anguish so great, that wakes the wildness of your wrath? Why 
 are you maddened with rage ? or whither has vanished your affection for 
 me? Will you not first see, where you have left your father Anchises, 
 worn with age? whether your wife Creusa is still alive, and your son 
 Ascanius ? all of whom the Grecian ranks range around on every side, 
 and unless my guardianship were placed to prevent it, the flames would 
 now have swept them away, and the sword of the enemy drunk their 
 blood. It is not the detested beauty of Laconian Helen, or Paris, that 
 is the subject of your blame ; it is Heaven, relentless Heaven, that over- 
 throws this mighty empire, and brings down Troy from her summit to the 
 ground. Behold (for every cloud which by its veil now dims your mortal 
 sight as you gaze, and lies damp and dark around you, I will take away ; 
 dread not any bidding of your parent, nor shrink from obeying my com- 
 mands), here, where you see the mounds thrown into ruin, and rock rent 
 away from rock, and eddying smoke mixed with dust, Neptune is shaking 
 the walls and the foundations displaced by his mighty trident, and is over- 
 
VIRGIL. [II. 612- 
 
 tbrowing all the city from its base. Here Juno, more cruel than any, is 
 the first to occupy the Scaean gates, and, girt with the steel, summons in 
 her fury the array of her allies from their ships. Now Tritonian Pallas, 
 behold her, has taken her stand on the height of the citadel, gleaming 
 with the tempest, and her fierce Gorgon. The Father himself supplies 
 the Greeks with spirit, and successful vigour ; even he himself excites the 
 gods against the Dardan warriors. Haste your flight, my son, and make 
 an end of your struggle. Everywhere I will be with you, and will place 
 you safely within your father's threshold." She ended, and hid herself in 
 the thick shades of night. Dreadful faces appear to view, and the high 
 divinities of heaven fighting against Troy. 
 
 624 — 633. kneels beholds the utter wreck of the city. 
 Then it was that all Ilium seemed to me to be sinking down into 
 flames, and Troy built by Neptune to be overthrown from its very founda- 
 tions ; even as when, on the height of the mountains, labourers press 
 on with rival zeal to cut down from the roots an ancient ash, hewn around 
 with the steel, and with repeated blows of the hatchet ; it ever threatens to 
 fall, and quivering nods the foliage on its tossing top, until by degrees 
 quite vanquished with blows, it heaves aloud its last groan, and, torn 
 away from the crag, brings down a ruinous mass. I descend, and with 
 God for my guide, make my way unharmed amid flames and foes ; the 
 missiles make room for me, and the flames retreat. 
 634 — 678. JEiieas goes back to his ho7ne, and tries to persuade his father 
 
 to escape. A utilises refuses ; and is detertnined to perish with the ruin 
 
 of Troy. 
 And when I had now arrived at the door of my father's dwelling, and 
 my old home, my sire, whom before aught else I had been desiring to 
 convey to the heights of the mountains, and above aught else had been 
 striving to reach, refuses, now that Troy is utterly destroyed, to prolong 
 his life, and to endure exile. " Do you, I pray you," he says, " whose 
 blood is in the perfect glow of youth, and whose vigour is sound and 
 strong in all its firmness, do you devise your flight. As for me, if they 
 who dwell in heaven had willed that I should continue to live, they would 
 have preserved for me this abode. It is enough and more than enough, 
 that 1 have beheld one destruction, and survived the capture of the city. 
 Speak the last words to my body, laid just as it is, just as it is, I pray 
 you, and depart. With my own hand I will find my death ; the enemy 
 will take pity upon me, and come for my spoils ; slight is the loss of a 
 grave. Long have I lived through lingering years, hateful to heaven and 
 useless, since the time when the father of the gods and king of men 
 blasted me with the breath of his thunderbolt, and scathed me with his 
 fire." So he continued to speak, and remained resolved. We, to stay 
 him, shed many a tear, both my wife Creusa, and Ascanius, and all his 
 family, intreating that he, the father, would not ruin himself and all our 
 fortunes, nor lend his weight to the doom that was pressing us down. 
 He refuses, and abides in the same purpose and in the same spot. I 
 begin to rush back into the fight, and in utter misery wish for death : for 
 what device, or what chance was now afforded us? " Did you imagine, 
 my sire, that I could quit my dwelling leaving you behind, and did a 
 
II. 707.] THE MNEID. 
 
 word so dreadful fall from my father's lips ? If it be the will of heaven 
 that nought be left of so great a city, and this purpose is settled in your 
 soul, and it is your pleasure to add to the downfall of Troy both yourself 
 and your family, a door lies open for such a death ; and presently Pyrrhus 
 will be here, fresh from the flowing blood of Priam — Pyrrhus, who butchers 
 the son before the eyes of the father, the father at the altar. Was it 
 to come to this, your bearing me away, my gracious mother, through 
 weapons, through foes, that I might behold the enemy in the inmost 
 chambers of my house, and that I might see Ascanius, and my father, 
 and Creusa beside him, one slaughtered in the blood of the other ? Arms, 
 ye men, bring me arms ! their last day invites the vanquished. Give me 
 back to the Greeks ; suffer me to revisit and renew the battle. Truly we 
 will not all die to-day unavenged." Immediately I began again to gird 
 on my sword, and was fitting and inserting my left-hand into the handle 
 of my shield, and was rushing out of the house. But lo, clasping my feet 
 in the doorway my wife clung to me, and held up to his father the little 
 lulus. " If you are departing to certain death, carry away us also with 
 yourself into all that can happen ; but if you ground upon experience 
 some hope in resorting to arms, first guard this house. To whom is the 
 little lulus, to whom is your father, and to whom am I, once called your 
 wife, abandoned ? " 
 
 679 — 704. A favourable ometi changes the resolution of Anchises. 
 
 Such were the cries she was uttering, and filling with her lamentation 
 all the dwelling, when there suddenly appears a prodigy wondrous to tell. 
 For while held in the hands, and between the faces of his sorrowful 
 parents, lo, a light crest of fire seems to shed a gleam from the crown 
 of the head of lulus, and, with harmless touch, to lick his wavy locks, and 
 play about his temples. We, struck with terror, begin to tremble in fear, 
 and try to dislodge the flame from his hair, and to quench with water 
 the holy fire. But father Anchises joyously lifted his eyes to the stars, 
 and stretched to heaven his hands and voice: "Almighty Jove, if any 
 prayers can move thee, look upon us ; this is all we ask ; and if our piety 
 deserves it, then grant us thine aid, O Father, and ratify this omen." 
 Hardly had the old man spoken thus, when with sudden crash it thun- 
 dered on the left-hand, and a star gliding from the sky through the gloom 
 shot along, trailing its torch-fire with a flood of light. We observe it, 
 after floating above the topmost height of the roof and marking its track 
 in heaven, manifestly burying itself in the forest of Ida, then in a long 
 line its furrow sheds a gleam, and ail the region round is filled with 
 sulphurous smoke. Hereupon it is that my father is overcome, and raises 
 himself toward the sky, and makes his prayer to the gods, and does 
 obeisance to the sacred star. "Now, now, there is nothing to delay me: 
 I follow, and am with you, where you lead me. Ye gods of my country, 
 preserve my family in your keeping; preserve my grandson. From you 
 is this augury ; and on your will Troy rests. I, for my part yield, and do 
 not, my son, refuse to go as your companion." 
 
 705 — 729. AEneas with his family prepares to abandon Troy. 
 
 He ended; and now the conflagration is heard more distinctly through- 
 out the town, and the fierce tide roils nearer. " Then come, my dear 
 
112 VIRGIL. [II. 708— 
 
 father, rest upon my neck ; I will support you on my shoulders, and such 
 a toil will not oppress me ; whatever shall be the issue of our fortunes, 
 we will both have one common peril, one safety. Let the little lulus be 
 my companion, and Creusa follow our footsteps at a distance. You, ye 
 servants, give your attention to what I shall say. As you go out of the 
 city, there is a mound and an unfrequented temple to Ceres, and near it 
 an old cypress, preserved through many a year by the reverence of our 
 forefathers. To this one station will we come from different points. You, 
 my father, take in your hand the sacred vessels and the household gods 
 of our country. For me to handle them is a crime now that I have come 
 away from so bloody a strife and from recent carnage, until I have 
 purified myself with running water. 7 ' So I spoke, and over my broad 
 shoulders and my neck that was to bear him I spread as a covering the 
 hide of a tawny lion, and take my burden on my back ; the little lulus 
 clings round my right hand, and follows his father with unequal steps ; my 
 wife comes behind us. We travel through the darker paths; and me, 
 whom lately no showers of missiles could move, nor Greeks closely 
 banded in mass against me, now every breath of air affrights, every 
 sound alarms, bewildered as I am, and trembling alike for my com- 
 panion and my burden. 
 
 730 — 794. In the hurried flight to the gates, Creusa is lost. JEneas 
 rushes back, and seeks for her in vain through the bunting city. At 
 last her phantom appears, and says she has been taken from him by the 
 •will of Heaven. She foretells his wanderings, and the establishment 
 of his kingdom in Italy, and then vanishes from his sight. 
 And now I was drawing nigh to the gates, and seemed to have safely 
 passed through all my journey, when suddenly the trampling sound of 
 many feet seemed to reach my ears ; and my father, looking on through 
 the gloom, cries : " Flee, flee, my son ; they are close upon us." I descry 
 rushing shields and flashing arms. Here it was that some unfriendly 
 Power confused and bereft me of my senses in my panic. For while at 
 speed I keep along the unfrequented parts, and diverge from the familiar 
 line of the road, alas, to my sorrow, my wife Creusa was snatched from 
 me by destiny (whether she stopped, or wandered from the way, or sat 
 down through weariness, I know not), and has not been since restored to 
 my eyes. And I did not look, back for her whom I had lost, or turn my 
 thoughts to her, before we arrived at the mound and holy abode of 
 ancient Ceres ; here at last, when all were assembled, she alone was 
 missing, and disappointed her companions, and her son and husband. 
 Who was there that I did not accuse, both among gods and among men, 
 or what more cruel calamity did I see in all the city? Ascanius, and my 
 father Anchises, and the Penates of Troy I commit to my comrades, and 
 conceal them in the hollow of a valley, I myself begin to go back to the 
 city, and gird on my shining arms. It is my resolve to meet anew all 
 chances, and traverse again all Troy, and a second time expose my life 
 to perils. First I go back to the w T alls and the dark portals of the gate, 
 by which I had started from the city, and wearily trace my foot-prints, as 
 I journey back through the gloom, and mark them with my eye. Every- 
 where horror fills my soul, withal the very stillness frights me. After 
 
II. 8o 4 .] THE MNEID. 1 13 
 
 that, I make my way back to my house, fondly thinking that perchance 
 she might have wandered thither. The Greeks had burst into it, and 
 occupied the whole mansion. In a moment the devouring fire is whirled 
 by the wind to the height of the roof ; the flames mount above it, the 
 tossing blaze rages up to heaven. I go on, and revisit Priam's palace, 
 and the citadel. And now in the empty colonnades, in the sanctuary of 
 Juno, the appointed sentinels, Phcenix and accursed Ulysses, were keeping 
 watch over the plunder. Hither from all parts the treasure of Troy, 
 snatched from the burning shrines, both the tables of the gods, and bowls 
 of massy gold, and captured vestments are brought and piled together. 
 Boys and trembling matrons in long ranks stand around. Venturing more- 
 over to send cries vaguely through the gloom, I filled the streets with cla- 
 mour, and in my sorrow, with repeated shouts, again and again vainly called 
 upon Creusa. As I was seeking her, and unceasingly raving through the 
 houses of the city, the hapless phantom and shade of Creusa herself 
 appeared to me before my eyes, and her form larger than I had known 
 it. I was amazed, and my hair stood up, and my voice clung to my 
 throat. Then she thus began to address me, and to remove my cares by 
 these words: "What avails it to give way so far to frenzied grief, my 
 sweet husband? these events happen not without the will of heaven ; nor 
 is it permitted you to convey hence Creusa as your partner, nor does he, 
 the monarch of Olympus, allow it. Distant exile awaits you, and a vast 
 expanse of sea must you plough, and you will come to the land of the 
 West, where Lydian Tiber flows with gentle current between the wealthy 
 fields of men. There a smiling fortune, and a realm, and royal bride are 
 provided you. Drive away your tears for your loved Creusa; I shall not 
 behold the haughty abodes of the Myrmidons or Dolopians, or go to 
 be a slave to Grecian matrons ; I, a descendant of Dardanus, and the 
 daughter-in-law of the goddess Venus; but the mighty mother of the 
 gods keeps me still in these coasts. And now farewell, and preserve your 
 love for our common son." When she had spoken these words, she left 
 me, while I wept, and wished to say much more, and faded into thin air. 
 Thrice I then attempted to throw my arms about her neck ; thrice the 
 phantom, vainly grasped, fled from my hands, as unsubstantial as the 
 winds, and in all points like a fleeting dream. 
 795 — 804. JEneas finds that his followers have increased to a numerous 
 
 ba7id. At daybreak he begins his retreat \ and carries his father to the 
 
 mountains. 
 Thus it is that I return to my comrades when the night is spent. And 
 here I find with astonishment that a vast number of new companions 
 have flocked to join me, both matrons and husbands, a band of men 
 assembled for exile, a piteous throng. They have come together from all 
 parts, with resolve and means prepared to go to settle in whatever lands 
 I please to lead them to over the sea. And now the morning-star was 
 beginning to rise over the topmost ridges of Ida, and was bringing in the 
 day ; and the Greeks blocked up and held the entrances of the gates, and 
 no hope of aid was given us. I retreated, and, taking up my father, 
 journeyed towards the mountains. 
 
 V1R. 
 
114 VIRGIL. [III. i- 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 I — 12. After the destruction of Troy JEneas builds his feet, and sails 
 forth a?i exile from his native la?td. 
 
 After it was the pleasure of the gods to destroy the kingdom of Asia, 
 and the nation of Priam, though guiltless, and when Ilium had fallen 
 from its high estate, and all Neptunian Troy was still smoking from the 
 ground ; we are driven as exiles by the auguries of the gods in search of 
 distant homes and desert lands, and we build our fleet just beneath 
 Antandros and at the foot of the mountains of Phrygian Ida, doubtful as 
 to whither the fates would bear us, where they will let us settle ; and we 
 collect a company. Scarce had the summer begun, and my father An- 
 chises often bid me unfurl my sails to destiny; when with tears in my eyes 
 I abandon my native shore, and the harbour and the plains where Troy 
 was once, but now no more. Forth am I borne an exile into the deep, 
 with my comrades, and son, and Penates, and great gods. 
 13 — 48. He conies to Thrace, but when he would build his city, blood 
 
 flows from the stem of a tree, and a melancholy voice bids him leave 
 the polluted shore. 
 
 Some distance off lies the peopled land of Mavors with its broad 
 plains ; the Thracians till it ; once reigned there fierce Lycurgus ; there 
 was an ancient friendship between Thrace and Troy, and a common 
 worship, so long as fortune remained the same. Hither I am borne, and 
 on the winding shore build my first walls ; but unkind were the fates when 
 I landed ; and I call the citizens ^Eneadae, a name formed from my own. 
 
 I was sacrificing to my mother, the daughter of Dione, and to the other 
 gods, to be auspicious to the works I had begun, and to the heavenly king 
 of the dwellers in the sky I was offering a sleek bull on the shore. Per- 
 chance hard by was a mound, on the summit of which grew plants of cornel, 
 and myrtles bristling with a thicket of spikes. I drew near, and tried to 
 pluck the green stems from the ground, to deck the altar with leafy boughs, 
 when lo ! I see a dreadful prodigy, wondrous to relate. For from the first 
 tree, whose roots I tore up and plucked from the ground, there trickle 
 drops of black blood, and pollute the earth with gore. A cold shuddering 
 convulses my limbs, and my chilled blood curdles with religious awe. 
 Again too I try to tear up a second tough twig, and to probe to the 
 bottom the hidden mystery ; and again from the bark of a second shoot 
 flows black blood. Many thoughts passed through my mind, and I 
 worshipped the Nymphs of the country, and father Gradivus, the patron 
 of the fields of the Getas, that they would deign to duly bless the sight, 
 and remove what boded ill. But when with greater effort I pluck at 
 the third stalk, and with my knees struggle against the sandy ground, 
 then — shall I speak, or forbear? — a lamentable groan is heard from the 
 depths of the mound, and the utterance of a voice is wafted to my ears : 
 "jEneas, why do you tear a wretched being? 'tis time to spare the 
 buried ; yes, spare to pollute your pure hands. I am no stranger to you ; 
 Troy bore me, nor does such gore trickle from a mere stem. Alas ! fly 
 from this cruel land, fly from a shore of avarice. Lo ! I am Polydorus. 
 
III. 92.] THE JENEID. 1 15 
 
 Here am I pierced, and an iron crop of weapons covers me, and has 
 grown o'er me with pointed shafts." Then indeed my heart was cold 
 with distracting dread, I was as one amazed, my hair stood on end, my 
 tongue clave to the roof of my mouth. 
 
 49 — 68. The sto?y of the murder of Poly dories. They appease the unquiet 
 ghost of their countryman by a solenui fineral. 
 
 This was that Polydorus whom once, together with a great mass of gold, 
 unhappy Priam had secretly trusted to be brought up by the king of 
 Thrace, in the days when he began to distrust the arms of Troy, and saw 
 the city hemmed in with close blockade. The Thracian prince, when 
 the strength of the Trojans was broken, and Fortune had turned her 
 back, sided with Agamemnon's power and his victorious arms ; he burst 
 all holy ties ; Polydorus he murders, and gains his gold by violence. To 
 what do you not drive mortal hearts, thou cursed thirst of gain? Now 
 when my terror left my soul, I relate the prodigies that heaven had 
 revealed, first to my father, then to the chosen chieftains of my people, 
 and ask them what they thought. All judge alike; they bid me depart 
 from the guilty shore, for one may not stay where hospitality is violated, 
 and they tell me to let the winds waft away my fleet. So first we pay to 
 Polydorus the funeral rites ; the ground is heaped on high to make a 
 mound ; to his spirit altars are raised, saddened with dark-coloured fillets 
 and gloomy cypress, and around stand the daughters of Troy with locks 
 unloosed in due form. We pour o'er the tomb cups foaming with warm 
 milk and bowls of consecrated blood, and lay his soul at rest in the grave, 
 and with loud voice wake his spirit with the last words of farewell. 
 69 — 120. They sail to Delos, In answer to p7 r ayer Apollo bids them 
 seek their ancient mother, and promises their desceiidants a7i universal 
 kingdom. Anchises interprets the oracle as pointi?ig to Crete. 
 
 Then, as soon as ever we could trust the deep, and the winds gave us 
 calm waters, and the breeze with a gentle rustling invites us to the main, 
 my comrades launch our ships, and crowd the shores. Forth we sail 
 from the harbour, lands and cities recede from view. In the midst of 
 the sea lies a sacred island, most dear to the mother of the Nereids 
 and to Neptune, god of the JEgezn, which the grateful archer-god, as 
 it floated round the coasts and shores, bound to lofty Myconos and 
 Gyaros, and granted that it should be fixed and inhabited, and scorn 
 the winds. Hither I am borne; the island kindly welcomes us weary 
 sailors in a safe port. We land and do homage to Apollo's town. King 
 Anius, king at once of men and priest of Phcebus, comes to meet us, his 
 temples were crowned with fillets and holy bay ; in Anchises he finds an 
 old friend. We unite hands in welcome, and enter beneath his roof. 
 
 The temple was built of ancient stone; there I worshipped, saying: 
 "Grant us, god of Thymbra, a settled home, for we are weary, grant us 
 walls, and a lasting race, and an abiding city ; preserve a second citadel of 
 Troy, and save a remnant rescued from the Greeks and pitiless Achilles. 
 Whom are we to follow ? Whither dost thou bid us go ? Where to settle 
 our home? Father, give us an omen, and inspire our souls." Scarce had 
 I spoke, when suddenly all around seemed to shake; the thresholds, 
 and the holy bays, and all the hill about quaked, and the tripod 
 
n6 VIRGIL. [III. 93— 
 
 rumbled from the opened shrine. We bend our knees, and sink to the 
 ground, and a voice is borne to our ears: "Ye hardy children of Dar- 
 danus, the same land which first bore you from the stock of your sires, 
 will welcome you again on your return in its fruitful richness of soil. 
 Search diligently till you find your ancient mother. Here shall the house 
 of ^Eneas lord it over all lands, and there shall reign sons of sons, and 
 they who shall spring from them." So spake Phoebus ; and mingled with 
 the tumultuous murmurings rose the sound of a great joy, and all enquire 
 what were the Walls he spoke of, whither Phoebus calls the wanderers, 
 where he bids us return. Then spoke my father, as he thought over the 
 histories of men of old: "Listen, ye chieftains," said he, "and learn your 
 hopes ; in the midst of the open sea lies Crete, an island sacred to great 
 Jove, where is a mount Ida, and the cradle of our race ; they dwell there 
 in a hundred great cities, very fruitful are these realms ; whence the first 
 father of our race, if I rightly recall what I have heard, Teucer, first came 
 to the coast of Rhceteum, and chose a place for his kingdom. Not yet 
 was standing Ilium or the citadel of Pergamus ; they used to dwell there 
 in the low valleys. Hence came the mother of the gods who inhabits 
 mount Cybele, and hence the bronze cymbals of the Corybantes, and the 
 grove of Ida; hence came the invisible secrecy of mysteries, and the 
 yoked lions were harnessed to the chariot of their queen. Come then, 
 and whither the will of Heaven guides, thither let us follow ; let us pro- 
 pitiate the winds, and sail for the realms of Gnosus. They are not far 
 distant; if only Jove will befriend us, the third morning will see our ships 
 moored on the coast of Crete." So he spake, and offered due sacrifices 
 on the altars, to Neptune a bull, a bull to thee, beauteous Apollo, a black 
 lamb to the storm, a white lamb to the favouring Zephyrs. 
 
 121 — 146. JEneas sails to Crete. A pestilence wastes his people. 
 A report flies abroad that the chieftain Idomeneus has been driven 
 forth and left his ancestral realm, that the shores of Crete are deserted, 
 the houses freed from our foe, and their abodes left and abandoned. 
 We sail from Ortygia's port, and fly o'er the main, passing by Naxos 
 whose ridges are haunted by the revels of Bacchus, and by green 
 Donyza, by Olearos, and marble Paros, and the Cyclades scattered o'er 
 the water, and we coast through channels thickly sown with islands. 
 The shouts of the sailors arise as they vie with each other in many 
 a task ; my comrades bid us make for Crete, the land of our forefathers. 
 A wind freshening at our stern follows us in our course, and at length 
 we are wafted to the ancient shores of the Curetes. So then with 
 eager haste I build the walls of my wished-for town ; I call it Perga- 
 mea, my people are pleased with the name, and I encourage them to 
 love their houses, and raise their citadel with lofty roofs. And now our 
 ships had been but just hauled upon the dry beach, our youth were 
 busy on marriages and tillage, I gave them lands and settled their 
 homes : when suddenly a wasting plague fell on our bodies, for heaven's 
 atmosphere was poisoned, and wretched was the blight that visited 
 vineyards and crops, and deadly was the season. They left dear life, 
 or dragged their limbs in disease; Sirius too parched the fields with 
 drought; the herbage pined for lack of rain, and the mildewed corn 
 
III. 194.] THE MNEID. 1 17 
 
 withheld our food. Back again my father bids me cross the main once 
 more to Apollo's oracle at Delos, and entreat his grace, praying, what end 
 would he give to our weary fortunes, whence he bids us essay to find 
 help in our misery, or whither bend our course. 
 
 147 — 191. At night the household gods appear to the hero, and tell him 
 not Crete, but Italy was ?7ieant. Anchises then recalls Cassandra's 
 prophecy. 
 
 'Twas night, and sleep possessed all creatures on the earth : the holy 
 images of the gods and Phrygian Penates, w r hom I had brought with me 
 from Troy, rescued from the midst of the burning town, seemed to stand j 
 before my eyes, as I lay asleep ; clearly I saw them in the strong light, 
 where the full moon poured through the casement of the windows : then I 
 thought they thus spoke to me, and thus calmed my fears ; "What Apollo 
 would tell you if you landed at Delos, here he reveals, and lo, before you 
 ask him, sends us to your threshold. When Troy was set on fire, Ave 
 followed you and your arms ; with you for guide, in your ships we traverse 
 the swelling waves ; yes, and we will raise your children hereafter with 
 glory to the stars of heaven, and give empire to the great city. Do you 
 raise mighty walls for men of might, nor shrink from the long labour of 
 your course. This is not the shore the god of Delos spake of; Crete is 
 not the land he bid you settle in. There is a region, the Greeks have 
 named it Hesperia, the land of the West; 'tis an ancient land, mighty in 
 war, fruitful in soil ; once dwelt in it the (Enotrians ; now fame reports 
 that the descendants call it Italy from the name of their prince I talus : 
 here is our own abiding home ; hence Dardanus sprang, and father 
 Iasius, the author of your race. Rise with haste, and gladly report our- 
 words to your aged father ; put aside all doubts ; tell him to search for 
 Cory thus and Ausonian lands, for Jove denies you the Cretan fields. 
 Astonished at the vision and the heavenly words — I could hardly call 
 that sleep, I rather seemed to know their looks face to face, their locks 
 with fillets bound, and countenances as of life ; then o'er my body . 
 spread a clammy sweat — I spring from my bed, and raise my uplifted 
 hands and voice to heaven, and cast upon the hearth my purest gifts. 
 This homage of religion done, I gladly tell my father all, and keep back 
 no detail. At once he found the error of the doubtful race, and the 
 ambiguous parentage, and owned he had been misled by a strange mis- 
 take touching these ancient lands. Then he says, "My son, persecuted 
 by the fates of Ilium, Cassandra alone foretold these fortunes in the 
 future. Now I remember, she predicted such a destiny to our race, 
 and oft she spoke of Hesperia, oft of Italian realms. But who could 
 then have thought that Teucer's race should come to Hesperian shores, 
 or who would then listen to what Cassandra prophesied? Now let us 
 yield to Phoebus, and warned by the god follow a better course." So he 
 says ; with one consent we gladly obey his words. We abandon this 
 home likewise, and, leaving a few behind, we set sail, and in our hollow 
 ships speed o'er the wide main. 
 
 192 — 218. Overtaken by a sto?'m, they are driven to the Strophades. 
 
 When our vessels had stood out to sea, and no land could now be seen, 
 with only deep and sky around, then o'er my head gathered a dark 
 
n8 VIRGIL. [III. 195 — 
 
 cloud of rain, bearing with it gloom and storm, and the wave ruffled 
 beneath the darkness. Straightway the winds roll the waters, and mighty 
 seas arise ; we are scattered and tossed o'er the wide flood. Stormy 
 clouds envelope the light of heaven ; misty darkness robs us of the sky ; 
 oft flash the lightnings from the riven clouds. We are forced out of our 
 course and wander in unknown waters. Even Palinurus says he cannot 
 distinguish between day and night in the sky, and has lost his course in the 
 midst of the waves. Three whole days of twilight through the murky mist 
 we are wanderers o'er the main, and as many starless nights. On the 
 fourth day at last rising land is descried, the distant mountains open to 
 view, and the curling smoke is seen to roll upwards. Our sails are furled ; 
 we ply our oars ; without delay our sailors with effort in their work whirl 
 the foaming water, and sweep o'er the azure deep. So I am saved from 
 the waves, and the shores of the Strophades first receive me. Strophades 
 they are called by a Grecian name, islands rising in the wide Ionian sea ; 
 where dwells dread Celaeno, and the other harpies, since the day that the 
 house of Phineus was closed, and through fear they left their former 
 tables. There is not a more baneful monster than these, nor has a fiercer 
 pest sent by the wrath of the gods risen from the waters of the Styx. 
 Fair are their faces as of maiden's form, but foul and filthy is their 
 trail, and talons they have for hands, and looks always pale from 
 craving hunger. 
 
 219 — 267. The Harpies pollute the banqtiet of the Trojans, who at- 
 tack them with arms. Then Celaeno predicts that in sore stress of 
 
 famine they shall eat their own tables. The prayer of Anchises. 
 
 Hither we are borne and enter the harbour ; and lo ! spread o'er the 
 plains we see joyous herds of oxen, and flocks of goats o'er the grass 
 without a keeper. We rush on them with weapons, inviting the gods, 
 and Jove himself to share the spoil ; then along the winding shore we 
 raise our couches, and begin to feast on the sumptuous banquet. But 
 suddenly with horrible descent from the mountains the harpies are upon 
 us, and with frightful cries they flap their wings, and snatch the meat 
 and pollute it with loathsome touch; dread too was the screech that 
 accompanied the sickening smell. Again, in a retired spot secluded 
 beneath a hollow rock, enclosed around with the shaggy shade of trees, 
 we dress our tables, and again light the fire on the altars. Again, 
 from a different quarter of heaven, and from their dark hiding-place, the 
 noisy flock hovers round the spoil with taloned feet, polluting with their 
 mouths the feast. I bid my comrades seize their arms, for we must 
 wage war with the cursed race. They do as they are bid, and cover with 
 grass the swords they place along the ground, and hide their shields 
 in ambush. So when the monsters fly down, uttering their cries along 
 the winding shore, from a high cliff Misenus gives the signal with his 
 hollow horn of brass. On rush my comrades, and essay a strange fight, 
 striving to wound with weapons the unclean birds of the sea. But 
 they feel no blows on their feathers, nor wounds on their backs, and with 
 swift flight soar aloft, and- leave behind the half-eaten prey, and their 
 disgusting . trail. Yet one is still left perched on a lofty rock, Celaeno, a 
 prophetess boding ill, and utters these words from her breast: "What! 
 
III. 294.] THE jENEID. 
 
 war for slaughtered oxen, and slain steers, true children of Laomedon? 
 what ! war are you ready to w r age, and do you drive the unoffending 
 harpies from their native realm ? Hear then these words, and store them 
 deep in your souls: what the Almighty Father foretold to Phoebus, and 
 Phoebus Apollo declared to me, that I to you, I, the eldest of the furies, 
 reveal: Italy is the object of your course; invoke the winds, to Italy you 
 will come, and you will be allowed to enter the harbour : but you shall 
 not wall the town the fates will grant, till first an accursed hunger, and 
 the wrong done to us by this attack, force you to grind w T ith your teeth 
 your half-eaten tables." She spake, and back to the woods she fled borne 
 on her wings. Then the blood in my comrades' hearts chilled and 
 stiffened w T ith sudden awe : their courage fell ; with arms no more, but 
 now with vows and prayers they bid me demand pardon, be they god- 
 desses, or be they hellish and unclean birds. And father Anchises, standi 
 ing on the shore with outspread hands, invokes the great Powers of heaven, 
 and solemnly promises offerings in return for the aid he asks ; saying : 
 " Ye gods, avert these threats ; ye gods, avert such a calamity ; be pro- 
 pitious, and deliver the pious." Then he bids us at once unloose our 
 cable from the shore, and let out the coils of the cordage. 
 268 — 293. They sail on past the island; at Actium they celebrate 
 games as did Augustas after the battle of Actium; then they go on to 
 Buthrotum. 
 
 The winds spread wide our sails ; we are borne over the foaming waves, 
 whither breeze and helmsman invite our speeding course. Presently in 
 the midst of the flood is seen woody Zacynthus, Dulichium and Same, 
 and Neritos with steep crags ; we shun the rocks of Ithaca, where Laertes 
 reigned, and w r e curse the country which reared cruel Ulysses. Presently 
 too, the storm-capped peaks of mount Leucate open to our view, and 
 Apollo, the sailor's dread. Weary w r e sail for this point, and come into 
 the harbour of the little town ; our anchors are cast from the prows ; the 
 sterns are drawn up on shore. 
 
 So having gained at length the land beyond our hopes, we purify our- 
 selves in homage to Jove, and kindle altars, and pay our vows, and on 
 the shores of Actium celebrate the games of Troy. My companions 
 strip, and, smeared with slippery oil, join in their national wrestling-match. 
 It pleases us to think that we have passed safely by so many Greek 
 cities, and held our course through the midst of so many foes. Mean- 
 while, the sun completes the circle of the full year, and icy winter 
 roughens the waters with northern blasts. A shield of hollow brass, 
 which mighty Abas once wore, I hang on the face of the doors, and 
 mark my act with this verse : "This armour yEneas took from the victori- 
 ous Greeks." Then I bid them leave the port, and take their seats on the 
 rowers' benches. My comrades with a will strike the sea with their oars 
 and sweep its surface. Quickly we lose sight of Phaeacia's lofty heights, 
 and coast along the shores of Epirus, and sail into the Chaonian harbour, 
 and draw near to the steep city of Buthrotum. 
 
 294 — 355. JEneas 7neets Andromache at Buthrotum. She tells him' that 
 Helenus is now king of the land. 
 
 A rumour past belief here fills our ears, that Helenus a son of Priam 
 
I20 VIRGIL. [III. 295— 
 
 was king o'er Grecian towns, and had obtained the wife and sceptre 
 of Pyrrhus of the race of ^Eacus, and that Andromache had passed 
 once more to a Trojan husband. I was amazed, and with strange 
 anxiety my heart was fired to address the hero, and hear the story of 
 so wondrous a fortune. I advance from the harbour, and on the shore 
 leave my fleet ; when, as it chanced, in front of the city, in a holy grove 
 by the stream of a counterfeit Simois, Andromache was offering her solemn 
 yearly feast, and gifts of mourning to her husband's ashes', and called 
 on Hector's spirit at a mound, which on the green sward she had 
 consecrated to be a cenotaph, and had dedicated two altars which 
 made her tears ever flow. As soon as she saw me coming, and Trojan 
 arms around, frenzied and scared by the wondrous prodigy, her form 
 stiffened as she looked, the warmth of life forsook her limbs, she swoons, 
 she falls, and hardly at length after a long time she speaks : " Is this 
 a real appearance, is this a living messenger that comes, O goddess- 
 born? are you alive? or if the kindly light of life be gone, tell me, 
 where is Hector?" She spake, and shed a flood of tears, and with her 
 cries she filled the space around. As thus she raves in grief, I find no 
 words, and hardly can reply, and troubled scarcely speak with broken 
 words : " 'Tis true I live, and drag my life through all extremity of woe ; 
 doubt not, lady ; no phantom do you see. Alas ! what lot overtakes you, 
 fallen from such a high estate of marriage ? or what change of fortune 
 visits you, worthy of your former life ? Can Hector's wife still stoop 
 to wedlock with Pyrrhus ?" With downcast look and humbled voice she 
 spake: "O only happy maiden out of all Priam's daughters, doomed 
 at an enemy's tomb beneath the lofty walls of Troy to die! you did not 
 endure the choice of any lot, nor in captivity drew near the bed of a 
 victorious lord. But I, from my country's flames borne o'er distant seas, 
 had to endure the insolence of Achilles' son and serve that haughty 
 youth ; in slavery I bore a child ; he afterwards courted Hermione of 
 Leda's race, and sought a Spartan marriage, and passed me over to 
 Helenus, as slave with slave united. For Pyrrhus off his guard Orestes 
 waits in ambush ; for his heart raged with a strong passion for the 
 wife that he was robbed of, and he was ever driven on by the furies 
 of his guilty race ; and so he murders Pyrrhus at the altar of his 
 father. By the death of Neoptolemus a part of his kingdom passed 
 to Helenus by right, and Helenus named the realm Chaonian, and 
 called all the land Chaonia from Chaon of Troy, and built a new 
 Pergama, and placed this city named Ilium on the hills. But you, what 
 winds, what fates have wafted your course hither? or what god hath 
 brought you unconsciously to our shores ? what of your boy Asca- 
 nius ? is he still alive ? does he still breathe the air ? You once had 
 such a son in Troy. Does the boy still regret his mother's loss ? And 
 does such a father as ^Eneas, such an uncle as Hector stir his soul 
 to the valour of his sires, and to a manly spirit?" Such words she 
 uttered with many tears, and ever encouraged her sorrows, weeping 
 all in vain ; when lo ! from the walls the hero Helenus, Priam's son, 
 comes with a long retinue; he recognises his countrymen, and gladly 
 leads them to his palace, with many a tear interrupting each word. 
 
III. 396.] THE MNE1D. 12 1 
 
 Onwards I go, and find a little Troy, and a second Pergama, a copy 
 of the great one, and the dry bed of a stream which bore the name 
 of Xanthus, and I embrace the threshold of a Scsean gate. The Trojans 
 too at the same time enjoy themselves in the friendly city. The king 
 entertained them in his spacious corridors. In the centre of the hall 
 they poured libations of wine, and on golden platters put the meat- 
 offerings to the gods, holding goblets in their hands. 
 
 356 — 373. JEneas asks the seer Helenus to reveal the fates to him. 
 
 Day after day passed on, and the breezes woo our sails, and the 
 canvas is filled by the swelling wind : with these words I address the 
 seer, and ask him these questions : " Child of Troy, interpreter of 
 heaven's will, you who feel the inspiration of Phoebus, who know the 
 tripods and bays of the lord of Claros, and understand the stars, and the 
 language of birds, and the omens drawn from their prophetic flight, 
 speak, I pray — for favourable auguries have told me all my course, and 
 all the gods with one consent reveal their will that I should make for 
 Italy, and essay to reach that remote land : one only prophet, the harpy 
 Celaeno, forebodes a strange and unutterable portent, and denounces the 
 fell wrath of the gods, and speaks of unclean hunger — tell me, friend, what 
 dangers I should first avoid ? or by what guidance I may hope to vanquish 
 toils so great?" Then Helenus first sacrificed steers in due form, and tries 
 to gain a blessing from the gods, and unbinds the fillet of his holy head, 
 and to thy threshold, Phoebus, he leads me with his own hand, full of 
 many a religious doubt ; and then from his inspired mouth the priest 
 utters these prophecies. 
 374 — 462. Helenus in a long speech tells the prince he must seek the 
 
 further shore of Italy, he must avoid Scylla and Charyddis, appease 
 
 Juno, and visit the Cumaean Sibyl. 
 " Goddess-born, a well-grounded faith assures us that you sail o'er the 
 deep under the greatest auspices, even so does heaven's king appoint the 
 allotted fates, and roll the changing cycle of events : such is the order of 
 their course ; of many things some few will I unfold in my speech, that 
 more safely you may traverse strange seas, and rest at last in an Italian 
 port; the remainder the fates forbid that Helenus should know, and 
 Saturnian Juno stops my speech. First then as to Italy, you imagine 
 that it is near, and in your ignorance are ready to enter at once its 
 neighbouring harbours ; but distant is the access, inaccessible through 
 distant tracts of lands that divide you from it. First must you bend your 
 oar in Sicilian waves, and traverse with your fleet the surface of the 
 Ausonian sea, and approach the lake of Avernus, and y£aea, the isle of 
 Circe, before you can build a settled city in a safe land. I will tell you the 
 signs ; do you store and keep them in your mind : when in the days of 
 your anxiety you shall find by the stream of a retired river a huge sow 
 lying under the oaks of the bank with a litter of thirty young, resting 
 on the ground, a white mother with white pigs round her teats ; that is 
 the spot of your city, that shall be your settled home and rest from your 
 toils. Nor trouble yourself to dread the eating of your table in future 
 time; the fates shall find a way, and Apollo come to your call. But 
 avoid these nearer lands, and this coast of Italian shore, which nighest 
 
122 VIRGIL. [III. 397 — 
 
 to us is washed by the tide of our sea ; in all these towns dwell malignant 
 Greeks. Here the Narycian Locri have built their walls, and Cretan 
 Idomeneus occupies with arms the Sallentine plains; here is that town 
 of Philoctetes, Melibcea's prince, little Petilia resting on its wall. Further, 
 when your fleet has crossed the sea, and is moored, and you build your 
 altar, and pay your vows on the shore, then veil your locks, and wrap 
 yourself in purple cloak, lest amidst the holy fires in the worship of the 
 gods, a hostile face intrude, and trouble the omens. This custom in 
 religion let your comrades keep ; do you yourself observe the same ; to this 
 holy form let your devout descendants ever be faithful. Further, when you 
 depart hence, and the wind bears you nigh to Sicilian land, and the straits 
 of narrow Pelorus begin to open to your view, then make for the land to 
 the left, and for the sea that lies to the left, long though the circuit be ; 
 avoid the shore and waters to the right. These lands were once torn 
 asunder with violent rent, and mighty convulsions — so great the changes 
 length of time can effect — they tell how they started asunder, and though 
 either land was then one and continuous, yet in the midst the main came 
 rushing, and with its waves cleaved the Italian coast from Sicily, and 
 divided fields and cities by a new shore, and flowed between them with 
 a narrow tide. Scylla guards the right side, merciless Charybdis the left ; 
 and in the lowest eddies of her whirlpool thrice she sucks her huge waves 
 into the abyss, and again each time shoots them on high, and lashes the 
 starry heavens with the waters. And Scylla in her dark lurking-place 
 a cavern confines, oft thrusting forth her mouth, and drawing the ships on 
 her rocks. Above she has a human face, with beauteous breast a woman 
 to the waist, but ending in her savage form a monster of the deep, with 
 dolphins' tails and womb of wolves in one. ? Tis better far to traverse the 
 utmost point of Trinacrian Pachynus, though with delay, and turn your 
 winding course all round, than once to have seen misshapen Scylla 
 within her dreary cave, and the rocks re-echoing to the watery hounds. 
 Further, if in Helenus be any insight, if to the seer faith be due, if Apollo 
 fills his soul with revelations of truth, there is one thing, goddess-born, 
 yes, one thing above all else that I would foretell, and repeat it oft, and 
 warn you of it again, and again ; great is the goddess Juno, above all 
 others adore her divinity, to Juno chant your vows with willing heart, 
 mighty lady is she, yet win her to yourself with supplications and gifts : 
 thus at last you will prevail, and start for the Italian coasts after you 
 have left Sicily. Now when borne to this shore you draw near to the city 
 of Cumae, and its holy lakes, and Avernus with its roaring woods, you will 
 see the frenzied prophetess, who in the depths of her rocky cave foretells 
 the fates, and trusts her marks and tokens to leaves. Whatever bur- 
 dens of her prophecy she writes upon leaves, she arranges in order, 
 and abandons them shut up in the cave. They remain steady in their 
 place, nor depart from their order. And yet if the hinge should turn, 
 and the light wind blow upon them, and if the opened door once dis- 
 turbs the light leaves, she never troubles herself to catch the letters as 
 they flit in the rocky cave, nor to recover their proper place, or unite the 
 verses of her prophecy. So men depart without an answer, and shun the 
 shrine of the Sibyl. But here count you no loss of time so precious, 
 
III. 505.] THE JENEID. 1 23 
 
 (however much your comrades chide, and your voyage urgently in- 
 vite your sails into the main, though you might fill your sheets 'with 
 favouring winds,) as not to draw near to the prophetess, and with 
 prayers ask for her oracle. Pray her to prophesy herself, and graciously 
 to speak and open her mouth. She will tell you of the nations of Italy, 
 and of coming wars, and unfold the manner in which you may eschew 
 or endure every toil, and to your prayer she will grant a prosperous 
 voyage. So far am I allowed to warn you with my voice. Go, hasten 
 hence, and by your deeds exalt Troy on high even to the skies." 
 46 3 — 47 1 . The gifts of Helen us. 
 
 Now when the seer had said this with friendly speech, he next com- 
 mands gifts of weighty gold and carved ivory to be carried to the ships, 
 and stores in the hulls massive plate, and caldrons of Dodona, coat of 
 mail fastened with hooks and triple twine of gold, and the peak and 
 flowing plume of a splendid helmet, the armour that Neoptolemus once 
 wore. There were gifts too to suit my father. To these he adds horses 
 and their grooms. He supplies us with new rowers, he furnishes my 
 comrades too with arms. 
 
 472 — 505. Andromache's sad parting with JEneas. Host and guest in- 
 terchange kind offices, and engage for future friendship. 
 
 Meanwhile Anchises often bade us hoist the sails of our fleet, lest we 
 delay, when we have a wind to waft us. Him the seer of Apollo addresses 
 with much respect : " Anchises, deemed worthy of the noble union with 
 Venus, charge of heaven, twice rescued from the fall of Troy, lo ! before 
 you lies the land of Italy ; haste to reach it with your sails ; and yet you 
 must pass by this nearer shore, and sail over the sea. Distant is the part 
 of Italy which Apollo reveals. Go," said he, "happy in your son's 
 affection. Why do I longer hinder you, and by my speech delay the 
 rising breeze?" With no less zeal Andromache, sorrowing at the last 
 moment of parting, brings robes embroidered with tissue of gold, and 
 for Ascanius a Phrygian cloak> nor yields to her husband's gifts, and 
 loads him with the presents of the loom, and thus she speaks : " Receive 
 these tokens, my boy, and may they be to you as memorials of my work, 
 and bear witness to Andromache's lasting love, who was Hector's wife, 
 O you who alone are left to call Astyanax to mind. Such were his 
 eyes, such his hands, such the look he wore ; and now his age were 
 yours, and as you, so would he be growing to man's estate." As I 
 parted from them, I spake to them, while tears gushed forth : " Farewell, 
 and happy live, your fortune is completed ; we are summoned from one 
 fate to another. You have gained your rest, no surface of the sea need 
 by you be ploughed, nor need you seek Italian fields which ever seem 
 to fly. You see the city of Xanthus, and a new Troy built by your 
 own hands, under better auspices, as I pray, a city less exposed to 
 the Greeks. If ever the day comes when I enter the Tiber, and reach 
 the fields along its banks, and behold the towers granted to my race, 
 hereafter we will unite cities related and people akin in Epirus anpl in 
 Italy, and make them both one Troy ; for they have one author Dar- 
 danus, and have had one common misfortune. Let that charge remain 
 to our descendants." 
 
124 VIRGIL. [III. 506— 
 
 506 — 567. The pilot waits for a clear sky. The next morning they sa- 
 lute Italy. Happy omens attend them. They pass the towns of Italy 
 till they come to Sicily. 
 We speed along the main close to Ceraunia, whence is the passage to 
 Italy, and the shortest voyage o'er the waves. Meantime the sun sets, 
 and the mountains are shaded with night. We throw ourselves on the 
 bosom of the wished-for land close to the water, choosing by lot who 
 should guard the oars, and all along the dry beach we rest our weary 
 bodies ; soft sleep bedews our limbs. Nor yet had Night, led by the hours, 
 mounted to the zenith of her sphere, when active from his bed rose Pali- 
 nurus, and explores every breeze, and with listening ears tries to catch the 
 gale ; he observes all the stars together gliding o'er the silent sky, Arctu- 
 rus and the rainy Hyades, and the twin Bears, and carefully notes Orion 
 with his belt and sword of gold. When he sees all nature settled in the 
 calm sky, he gives a shrill signal from the stern ; we start our fleet, and 
 essay our voyage, and spread the flying sails. And now Aurora had put 
 the stars to flight, and just begun to blush, when in the distance we see the 
 misty hills, and low coast of Italy. Achates is the first to shout "Italy!" 
 Italy my comrades salute with joyous shouts. Then my father Anchises 
 crowned a great bowl with a chaplet, and filled it with unmixed wine, and 
 called on the gods, as he stood on the tall stern : " Ye gods, lords of sea 
 and earth and storms, give us a smooth course, and an easy wind, and 
 blow with propitious gales." The breezes we prayed for freshen, and 
 the harbour is seen to open as we draw nearer, and a temple of Minerva 
 appears on the heights. My comrades furl their sails, and turn their 
 prows to the strand. The harbour by the force of the eastern wave is 
 scooped into the shape of a bow: the jutting rocks are sprinkled with 
 briny foam: sheltered is the bay itself; the towering crags slope their 
 sides as with double wall ; and the temple is retired from the shore. 
 Here on the green sward I saw the first omen, four horses white as snow 
 feeding on the spacious plain. And my father Anchises said, " 'Tis war, 
 thou stranger-land, that thou dost offer ; for war are horses armed, and 
 this herd threatens war. And yet, for all that, these steeds at times 
 will often submit to the chariot, and underneath the yoke in concord 
 bear the bit. So there is hope of peace." Then we pray to the holy 
 power of Pallas, who clasheth arms, for she first received us in triumph ; 
 and in front of the altars we veil our heads with Phrygian cloak ; and by 
 the warnings of Helenus which he specially gave, we burn to Argive 
 Juno the offerings we were told to pay. Then without delay, no sooner 
 are our vows fulfilled, than we turn to sea the horns of our sail-clad yard- 
 arms, and flee from the homes of the Grecian race, and the fields we 
 distrust. Hence is descried Tarentum's bay ; the town belongs to the race 
 of Hercules, if report tells true. Over against it rises the Lacinian 
 goddess, and the towering crags of Caulon, and Scylacaeum, that wrecks 
 the manners. Here, rising in the horizon from the Sicilian flood, ^Etna 
 is descried ; and from afar we hear the moaning of the main, and the 
 lashed cliffs, and the breakers roaring to the shore ; the shallows surge, 
 and the sand is thrown up by the swell. And my father said : " No doubt 
 this is that dreaded Charybdis, and these the cliffs, these the frightful 
 
III. 6io.] THE MNEID. 125 
 
 rocks that Helenus warned us of. Save yourselves, my comrades, and 
 ply in time your oars." They did as they were bid ; and Palinurus was the 
 first to turn his creaking prow to the waters to the left ; for the left made 
 all our crew with oars and sails at once. We are lifted to the heavens on 
 the crested wave, and again we sink to the lowest shades, as the wave 
 descends. Thrice did the cliffs roar amidst the rocky caverns, thrice did 
 we see the foam dashing up, and the starry skies dripping. 
 
 568 — 587. They pass by the mountain JEtna. The description of a 
 volcano. A gloomy night. 
 Meanwhile, the wind and sun leave us weary manners at once, and 
 ignorant of our course we drift to the coast of the Cyclops. The harbour 
 is sheltered from the approach of winds, unmoved in its broad bay ; but 
 hard by thunders ^Etna with dreadful ruinous crash, and sometimes 
 hurls forth on high a murky cloud smoking with pitchy whirlwind and 
 red-hot embers, and raises balls of flame, and licks the starry pole ; again 
 ofttimes it lifts and belches forth rocks and the entrails of the torn moun- 
 tain, and masses with a moan the melted stones on high, and surges from 
 its lowest depths. Fame says Enceladus 7 form scorched by the thunder- 
 bolt is overwhelmed by this mighty pile, and that huge /Etna placed 
 above him breathes forth flames from its bursting furnace ; and as often as 
 the giant turns his weary side, as oft does all Sicily awake with rumbling 
 roar, and the heavens are veiled with smoke. All that night long, under 
 the covert of the woods we endure monstrous portents, but cannot see 
 the causes of that noise. For the constellations gave no light, and the 
 pole was not bright with its starry firmament ; but there were clouds o'er 
 the dark heaven, and the still dead of night hid the moon in a mist. 
 
 588 — 611. AchemenideSjthe comrade of Ulysses, a piteous object, begs 
 mercy of the Trojans. 
 The following day was just rising with its early dawn, and Aurora had 
 scattered from the sky the damp shades, when suddenly from the woods 
 is seen to come forth the strange form of an unknown man, wan with 
 extreme leanness, and clad in wretched garb, who lifts his suppliant 
 hands towards the shore. We turn and look. Frightful was his squalor, 
 his shaggy beard hung down, his garment had thorns for clasps ; and yet 
 in other things he was a Greek, one who had once been sent to Troy in 
 his country's arms. Now when he saw at a distance the Dardan dress, 
 and Trojan armour, for a while, terrified at the sight, he stood motionless 
 and checked his steps ; then to the shore hurrying rushed with tears and 
 prayers ; "By the stars," he said, "I adjure you, by the gods above, by the 
 light and breath of heaven, O Trojans, take me hence ; lead me to any 
 lands, I care not what ; this will be enough. I know that I was one of 
 the sailors of the Grecian ships, nor do I deny that I attacked in war the 
 Trojan gods. For which, if such be the injury of my crime, tear my limbs 
 and scatter them o'er the waves, or drown me in the deep sea. If I am 
 to perish, it will be a comfort to perish by human hands." He spoke, and 
 embraced our knees, and prostrate still to our knees he clung. W x e 
 encourage him to declare who he was, and whence sprung,, and then to 
 reveal to us what fortune pursued him. My father Anchises himself, with- 
 
126 VIRGIL. [III. 611— 
 
 out delay, gives his right hand to the youth, and comforts his heart with 
 a ready pledge. 
 
 612 — 654. AcHemenides tells the tale of Ulysses and Polyphemus, already 
 
 told by Homer. 
 
 He lays aside his fear at last, and thus he speaks : "Ithaca is the coun- 
 try whence I come, I was the companion of ill-fated Ulysses ; my name is 
 Achemenides, my father Adamastus was poor ; would to heaven I had 
 been content with my fortune and stayed at home ; but for Troy I set out. 
 Here my comrades, while in haste they flee from the cruel abode, forgot 
 and left me in the dreary den of the Cyclops. 'Tis the home of putrid 
 gore, and bloody food ; 'tis dark within and vast : its giant master strikes 
 the stars with his head — ye gods, deliver the earth from such a monster, 
 'tis hard to bear his sight, and none can address him with speech. He 
 feeds on the entrails and black blood of his victims. I saw with mine 
 own eyes how he grasped in one hand two of our company, and as he lay 
 supine in the middle of his den dashed them against a stone, and the 
 dabbled hall swam with gore ; I saw him chew their limbs streaming with 
 matter and black blood, while their joints still warm quivered beneath his 
 teeth. Yet he suffered for his sin ; for Ulysses could not brook such 
 wrongs, nor did the prince of Ithaca forget his nature in such a crisis of 
 events. For, as soon as, glutted with meats, and stupid with drink, he 
 rested his drooping neck, stretched o'er his den with monstrous length, 
 and belched forth foul gore, and pieces of food together with bloody wine, 
 as he lay asleep, we prayed to the mighty gods, and each our duty chose ; 
 then all at once on every side pour Upon him, and with a sharpened 
 weapon bore his eye so huge, his single eye deep set beneath his scowling 
 forehead, of form and size like to a Grecian shield, or the sun's shining 
 disk ; and so at last with joy avenge our comrades' ghosts. But fly, ye 
 wretched men ; yes, fly, and from the shore your cables cut at once. Dire 
 is the form and huge the size of Polyphemus in his hollow cave, when he 
 pens his fleecy flock, and milks their udders ; but, as great and dire as he, 
 are a hundred monstrous Cyclops ; who dwell up and down along these 
 winding shores, and wander on the lofty mountains. Thrice have the 
 horns of the moon been filled with light, all which time I drag on my life 
 in the woods amongst the lonely lairs and haunts of the wild beasts, and 
 from a rock in the distance I see the huge Cyclops, and tremble at the 
 tramp of their feet, and the roar of their voices. A poor, sorry living, 
 berries and stony cornels, the boughs supply ; I pluck the herbs and 
 gnaw their roots. As I looked all around, this was the first fleet I sighted 
 drawing to the shores. To this I surrender myself, let it turn out to be 
 whate'er it may, content to have escaped this monstrous race. I rather 
 choose that you should destroy my life with any kind of death." 
 655 — 691. The monster Polyphemus is seen. The Trojans save the 
 Greek and fly out to sea. They remember the counsel of Helenus, and 
 sail southwards. 
 
 Scarce had he spoken, when on the summit of the mountain we see 
 Polyphemus himself, the shepherd in the midst of his sheep, moving 
 along with mighty bulk towards the well-known shore, a monster 
 horrible, misshapen, huge, bereft of the sight of his eye. The trunk of a 
 
II. ;ii.] THE JENEID. 127 
 
 pine guides his feet with the effort of his hand, and steadies his steps ; 
 his fleecy sheep follow him : they were his only pleasure, and solace in 
 his woe. When he has reached the deep waves and come to the sea, with 
 the water he washes the flowing blood from the hollow of his lost eye, 
 gnashing his teeth, and moaning, and stalks through the water quite 
 out to sea, and, for all that, the waves did not yet wet his tall sides. 
 We hurry and hasten our flight far from thence, having taken on board 
 the suppliant who well deserved our help, and quietly cut our cables ; 
 forward we bend, and sweep the water's face with emulous oars. He 
 heard the noise, and to the sound of the splash directed his steps. But 
 when he could in no wise reach us with his hand, nor keep pace in 
 pursuit with our flight through the Ionian waves, he raises a mighty 
 shout, at which the sea and all its billows shook, and far into land the 
 Italian country was terrified, and ^Etna rumbled in its winding caverns. 
 Thereby was roused the race of Cyclops forth from the woods and from 
 the lofty mountains, and they rush down to the harbour, and crowd the 
 beach. We can descry the brothers of ^Etna standing there in -impo- 
 tent rage, each with his frowning eye, bearing their lofty heads towards 
 heaven, a dreadful conclave; as when with lofty tops towering oaks, or 
 spiry cypresses are seen to rise, the tall wood of Jove, or the grove of 
 Diana. Keen fear drives us in haste to uncoil our ropes, and to fill 
 our sails with any favouring winds. On the other hand, the injunctions 
 of Helenus warn us against Scylla and Charybdis ; unless our crews 
 can hold their course straight on between these two in the narrow space 
 that saves from death, we determine to sail back. When lo ! sent to 
 our aid the north wind came blowing from the point in the strait at 
 Pelorus. I am wafted past the mouth of Pantagia with its natural rocks, 
 and the bay of Megara, and Thapsus lying low. These shores were 
 pointed out by Achemenides, companion of ill-fated Ulysses, as he coasted 
 once more back along the scene of his wanderings. 
 
 692 — 715. Sailing along Sicily ^neas comes to Drepaniwi, where his 
 father Anchises dies. 
 Stretched in front of the Sicanian bay lies an island over against 
 Plemmyrium washed by many waves ; men called the place of old 
 Ortygia. Fame says that hither Alpheus, river of Elis, forced his hidden 
 way beneath the sea, who now through the mouth of thy fountain, 
 Arethusa, mingles with the waves of Sicily. We do as we are bid, 
 and pay homage to the great divinities of the place ; and next I pass 
 the rich soil by marshy Helorus. After that, we sail close to the high 
 cliffs and jutting rocks of Pachynus, and Camarina is seen in the dis- 
 tance, a place the fates forbad should ever be moved, and the plains 
 of Gela, and great Gela itself named from its river. Next steep Acragas 
 shows its giant walls ; it once reared spirited steeds. And thee I leave, 
 Selinus city of palms, for heaven gives us breezes ; and coast along by 
 the shallows of Lilybaeum with their dangerous hidden rocks. Then the 
 harbour and joyless shore of Drepanum receive me. Here I, who have be,en 
 driven by so many storms of the sea, lose, alas ! my father Anchises, my 
 comfort in every care and calamity ; here, best of fathers, thou didst 
 abandon thy weary son ; alas, in vain hadst thou been rescued from 
 
128 VIRGIL. [III. 7 id- 
 
 such great dangers. Nor did the seer Helenus, though he warned me 
 of many horrors, nor the fury Celaeno predict this sorrow. This was 
 my last toil ; this the goal of my long voyage. As I left this place, the 
 god drove me to your shores. 
 
 716 — 718. JEneas ends the tale of his wanderings. 
 Thus father ^Eneas, one, in the presence of many listeners, told 
 his tale, and brought before them heaven's decrees and his own 
 voyage. At length he paused, and made an end, and ceased his 
 speech. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 1 — 53. Dido's restless passion. She confides to her sister her love for 
 Jkiieas, and her scruples. Anna encourages her love, and extols the 
 advantage a?td glory of an alliance with the Trojans. 
 But the queen, smitten from the first with deep pain, ever nurses the 
 wound within her veins, and is wasted by a hidden fire. Many a time 
 does the worth of the hero, and many a time does the glory of his de- 
 scent come back full upon her soul: his looks and words cling fixed 
 within her breast, and pain withholds from her limbs quiet repose. The 
 following dawn was visiting the world with the lamp of Phoebus, and had 
 dispelled from the sky the damp shadow, when thus in distraction she 
 speaks to the sister of her heart : " Anna, my sister, what visions bewilder 
 and appal me? Who is this new guest that has entered our abode? 
 What a hero is he in countenance and bearing ! how noble is his spirit 
 and soldiership ! I for my part believe, and my conviction is not un- 
 grounded, that he is the offspring of the gods. Baseborn souls their cow- 
 ardice detects. Alas, by what storms of fate has he been tossed ; what 
 wars endured to the end did he recount! Were I not resolved in soul 
 fixedly and immoveably not to consent to ally myself to any one in the 
 bond of marriage, since the time that my first love played me false, and 
 disappointed me by death ; were I not quite weary of the bridal-chamber 
 and the torch, perhaps I had been able to give way to this one weakness. 
 Yes, Anna, I will confess it, since Sychaeus my unhappy husband met his 
 doom, and the Penates were sprinkled with a brother's blood, he alone 
 has swayed my feelings, and pressed upon my resolution till it totters. 
 I recognize the traces of my former flame. But I could wish that either 
 the earth would first open from its lowest depths to receive me, or that 
 the Almighty Father would strike me down to the shades with his thun- 
 derbolt, to the ghastly shades of Erebus, and the abyss of night, before I 
 violate thee, O Chastity, or annul thy rights. Pie who was the first to 
 join me to himself has carried away my affections ; let him keep them 
 with him, and preserve them in his grave." So she spoke, and filled her 
 bosom with a burst of tears. Anna replies: "Dearer than the light to 
 your sister, will you in sad solitude waste away all through your youth, 
 nor prove the sweetness of children, nor the blessings of love? Think 
 you that ashes and buried spirits of the dead care for that? Albeit no 
 suitors formerly moved you in your sorrow, not in Libya, not before that, 
 
IV. 87.] THE JENEID. 129 
 
 at Tyre ; though Iarbas was scorned, and other chiefs, whom Africa rears, 
 a land enriched with victory, will you fight even against a love that has 
 pleased you? And does it not enter your mind in whose lands you have 
 settled? On this side the towns of the Gaetulians, a race invincible in 
 war, and the unbridled Numidians hem you round, and the inhospitable 
 Syrtis ; on that a region desolate through drought, and the Barcsei raging 
 far and wide. Why should I speak of wars rising at Tyre, and the 
 threatenings of your brother? I at least consider that by the authority 
 of the gods and the favour of Juno the ships of Ilium have been steadily 
 wafted on this course. To what grandeur will you see this city rise, and 
 this realm, my sister, by such a marriage ! With the warriors of Troy on 
 our side, how mightily will the glory of Carthage be exalted ! Do 
 but intreat the indulgence of Heaven, and when your sacrifices have 
 proved propitious, give yourself up to hospitality, and weave a chain of 
 pretexts for delay, so long as the winter and watery Orion rage in all 
 their might upon the sea, and his ships are shattered; so long as the 
 wild sky may not be encountered." 
 
 54 — 89. Dido strives by sacrifices to win the grace of Heaven to excuse 
 the breaking of her vow. Her absorbing love for JEneas. 
 By these words she filled with the flames of love a soul already kin- 
 dled, and inspired with hope a wavering mind, and melted away its scru- 
 ples. First they visit the shrines, and seek to obtain grace at every 
 altar ; they slay ewes duly chosen, to Ceres the Lawgiver, and to Phcebus, 
 and to father Lyasus ; to Juno above all the rest, for she is the guardian 
 of marriage ties. The beautiful Dido herself, holding a bowl in her 
 hand, pours it out just between the horns of a spotless cow, or before the 
 eyes of the gods paces beside the rich altars, and solemnises the day 
 with offerings, and gazing intently upon the opened breasts of the victims, 
 examines their palpitating vitals. Alas how ignorant are the minds of 
 priests! What can vows, what can shrines do for her in her frenzy? 
 The stealing flame is incessantly devouring her heart, and her wound un- 
 uttered lives deep within her breast. The wretched Dido feels the flame, 
 and roams all through the city in her frenzy, like a doe shot by an arrow, 
 whom a shepherd chasing with his weapons has pierced from afar in her 
 security amid the Cretan forests, and has left there the winged dart un- 
 wittingly ; she in flight ranges through the Dictasan groves and glades ; 
 the fatal shaft is fixed fast in her side. Now she conducts ^Eneas with 
 her throughout the town, and exhibits the wealth of Sidon, and the city 
 already provided ; she begins to speak, and breaks off with her words 
 half formed. Now at the decline of day she again resorts to the same 
 banquet, and again in her madness craves to hear the troubles of Troy, 
 and again hangs upon his lips as he tells the tale. Afterwards, when the 
 guests have separated and the moon in her turn buries her light in gloom, 
 and the setting stars invite to sleep, in solitude she mourns in her empty 
 mansion, and throws herself upon the couch that he has left ; him she 
 hears and sees, though she be far from him, and he from her ; or linger- 
 ingly fondles Ascanius on her lap, fascinated by his father's likeness, if 
 so she can beguile her ineffable love. The towers that are begun cease 
 to rise, the young men no longer practise arms or construct harbours and 
 
 VIR. 9 
 
130 VIRGIL. [IV. 88— 
 
 secure defences for time of war, the works are broken off and suspended, 
 . and so are the mighty frowning walls, and the engine raised as high as 
 heaven. 
 
 90 — 128. Jit7id > s stra'.agem to cause Apneas to set up his kingdom at 
 Carthage, instead of in Italy. Her conversation with Venus. 
 
 So soon as the beloved wife of Jove knew that she was possessed by 
 such a curse, and that her reputation was not proof against her passion, 
 the child of Saturn addressed Venus in words like these: "Splendid 
 renown indeed, and magnificent spoils are you winning, you and your 
 boy, a great and glorious name, when one woman is conquered by the 
 craft of two gods. And I am not in the least unaware that through dread 
 of a city of mine you have held in suspicion the hospitality of proud 
 Carthage. But what limit is there to be, or what now can be the object of so 
 keen a strife? Let us rather establish an everlasting peace and a settled 
 marriage. You possess the whole object of your purpose: Dido burns 
 with love, and has felt the passion coursing through her veins. Let us 
 then govern this nation in common, and with equal authority ; let us suffer 
 her to own a Phrygian husband for her lord, and to deliver into your hand 
 the Tyrians as her dowry." To her, for she perceived that with a counter- 
 feited object she had spoken, in order to divert to the shores of Libya the 
 empire of Italy, Venus in reply thus began : "Who would be so mad as 
 to refuse such an offer, or to prefer to contend with you in war, if only, 
 as you tell me, success be the sequel of our work? But all in doubt 
 I am driven along by fate, whether it be the will of Jove that one city 
 hold the Tyrians and them who have come from Troy, or if he consents 
 that the nations be united and firmly leagued together. You are his 
 wife, it is your privilege to sound his intention by your prayers. Lead 
 the way; I will follow." Then Queen Juno thus replied: "That task 
 shall rest with me. Now attend, I will inform you in a few words in what 
 way your immediate object can be accomplished. ^Eneas and the hapless 
 Dido with him intend to go into the forest to hunt, when to-morrow's sun 
 has begun to display his rising, and has revealed the world with his 
 beams. Upon them I will pour down from above a black cloud of rain 
 mingled with hail, while the beaters are busy and are encircling the coverts 
 with their toils, and will wake with thunder the whole heaven. Their 
 attendants shall disperse and be shrouded in thick darkness. Dido and 
 the Trojan chief shall light upon the same cave. I will be present, and 
 if I am assured of your compliance, will unite them in lasting- wedlock, 
 and will make her his for ever. This shall be their proper marriage." 
 Cytherea assented without opposition to her request, and smiled as she 
 discovered the craft. 
 
 129 — 172. The hunting party. Dido excuses and openly proclaims her 
 wedlock with JEneas. 
 
 Meanwhile Aurora rises and has left the ocean. When it is broad 
 daylight, the flower of the youth pass out from the gates. Nets with wide 
 meshes, snares, hunting spears with broad heads, and Massylian horse- 
 men pour forth, and the keen-scented strong hounds. The princes of 
 Carthage await at the entrance their queen, while she lingers in her 
 chamber, and 'her steed stands brilliant with purple and gold, and full of 
 
IV. i8 7 .] THE sENEID. 
 
 spirit champs the foaming bit. At last she comes forth escorted by a 
 numerous suite, with her Sidonian mantle bordered with an embroidered 
 hem ; her quiver is of gold, her hair is fastened into a knot with a golden 
 clasp, a golden buckle binds up her purple dress. Likewise both her 
 Phrygian attendants and the joyful lulus pass along. ^Eneas himself, 
 beautiful beyond all the rest, joins her troop as her companion, and 
 unites the train. Like Apollo when he leaves Lycia in the winter and the 
 streams of Xanthus, and visits his mother's Delos, and sets up anew his 
 dances, and around the altars in a mass the Cretans and Dry opes revel, 
 and the painted Agathyrsi ; he himself steps along the ridges of Cynthus, 
 and with a pliant wreath gracefully confines his flowing hair, and with 
 a circlet of gold entwines it; his weapons rattle on his shoulders. No 
 less lightly than he yEneas went along; grace as bright as his beams 
 forth on his heroic countenance. When they arrived among the high 
 mountains and trackless thickets, straightway the wild goats driven down 
 from the brow of the rock ran along the ridges ; in another direction the 
 stags scour over the open plains, and unite in crowded flight their dusty 
 bands, and leave the mountains. But the young Ascanius in the heart 
 of the valleys exults in his spirited horse, and new passes these, now 
 those in his career, and longs for a foaming wild boar to be granted to 
 his prayers among the cowardly herds, or for a tawny lion to come down 
 from the mountains. Meanwhile the sky is filled with tumult and ter- 
 rible roar \ then comes a storm of mingled rain and hail ; and the 
 Tyrian attendants in disorder, and the Trojan youths, and the Dardan 
 grandson of Venus have fled to shelter hither and thither throughout the 
 fields. Dido and the Trojan chief light upon the same cave: the torrents 
 pour down from the mountain. Both primaeval Earth and Juno that waits 
 upon the bride give the sign : fires flash in the firmament that acknow- 
 ledges the marriage, and the Nymphs cry aloud on the topmost height. 
 That day was the first that was of death, and the first that was of misery 
 the source; for Dido is neither any longer influenced by a regard for 
 appearance or reputation, nor any longer thinks of a clandestine love : she 
 calls it wedlock; behind this name she screens her frailty. 
 173 — 197. Description of Fame. She spreads abroad the disgrace of 
 Dido, and excites the anger of king Iarbas. 
 Immediately Fame begins to traverse the mighty cities of Libya, 
 Fame who is surpassed in swiftness by nothing else that is bad ; she 
 grows by her restless motion, and gathers vigour as she speeds along ; 
 small through fear at first, presently she exalts herself towards heaven, 
 and stalks along the ground, and hides her head amid the clouds. 
 Her the Earth her mother, exasperated with wrath against the gods, 
 brought forth, as they tell, to be the youngest sister of Cceus and 
 Enceladus, with nimble feet and rapid wings, a monster frightful, huge ; 
 who, for every feather on her body, has as many wakeful eyes beneath, 
 (wondrous to tell) as many loud tongues and mouths, as many ears 
 that she pricks up to listen. By night she flics between heaven and 
 earth, through the gloom, with buzzing wings, nor droops her eyelids 
 in soothing sleep ; by day she keeps watch, perched either on the very 
 top of a house, or on high towers, and continually terrifies great cities, 
 
 9—2 
 
13 2 VIRGIL. [IV. 1S8— 
 
 being as firmly attached to what is false and wrong, as she is a mes- 
 senger of truth. She at that time began to fill the nations with manifold 
 report, exulting in it, and to repeat . alike fact and fiction ; how that 
 y£neas has come, sprung from Trojan blood, to whom as a husband 
 fair Dido deigns to be united ; that now with one another they are 
 passing the whole length of winter in slothful excess, unmindful of 
 their kingdoms, and enslaved by shameful passion. This the loathed 
 goddess pours abroad into the mouths of men. Straightway she directs 
 her career to king Iarbas, and fires his soul with her words, and piles 
 up motives for his wrath. 
 
 198 — 237. Iarbas the son of Jupiter A mmon prays to Jove to revenge 
 him for the disdain of Dido. Mercury is bidden to coimnand AUneas 
 to quit Carthage. 
 He, the son of Ammon by a ravished Libyan Nymph, set up to 
 Jupiter in his broad realms a hundred vast temples, a hundred altars, 
 and had consecrated the undying fire, the everlasting watcher of the 
 gods, and a ground rich with the blood of victims, and thresholds 
 flowery with various garlands. And he, frantic in soul and fired by 
 the bitter rumour, is said, before the altars, in the midst of the holy 
 gods, to have addressed to Jove many a humble prayer with hands 
 uplifted: "Almighty Jove, to whom the Maurusian people, when they 
 feast on their embroidered couches, now pour out in homage the libation 
 of wine, dost thou behold this? or is it without cause that we dread 
 thee, my father, when thou hurlest thy thunderbolts? and do aimless 
 flashes amid the clouds terrify our souls, and tumultously roar at 
 random ? A woman, who, when wandering in our territory, founded at 
 a price a little town, to whom we granted a strip of coast for culti- 
 vation, and whom we made the lady of the land, has rejected marriage 
 with us, and has received into her realm ^Eneas for her lord. And 
 now that Paris, with his effeminate train, his chin and oiled hair bound 
 up with the Maeonian turban, enjoys his plunder : we bring gifts to 
 temples which are thine forsooth, and guard a glory which is nothing." 
 As he was uttering such prayers, and clasping the altars, the Omni- 
 potent heard him, and directed his eyes to the royal walls and the 
 lovers forgetful of their better fame. Then he thus addresses Mercury, 
 and gives him this commission : " Go now, my son, summon the Zephyrs, 
 and downward glide upon thy wings, and address the Dardan chief, 
 who now loiters in Tyrian Carthage, and regards not the cities granted 
 him by fate, and carry down my command through the fleet breezes. 
 His beauteous mother did not promise us that he would be such as 
 this, nor is it with this purpose that she has twice rescued him from 
 the warriors of Greece ; but she promised that it would be he who 
 would rule Italy, big with empire, and fierce in war, who would hand 
 down a race from the ancient blood of Teucer, and bring all the world 
 beneath his sway. If the glory of such high fortunes has no power 
 to stir him, and he does not for himself, for his own renown, take in 
 hand the task, does he, being a father, grudge his Ascanius the citadel 
 of Rome? What are his plans? or with what expectation does he 
 linger among a hostile people, and regard not his Ausonian progeny, 
 
IV. 285.] THE /ENEID. 133 
 
 and the Lavinian fields ? Let him set sail ; this is all ; let this be our 
 
 message." 
 
 238 — 295. Mercwfs flight to earth. He first lights on Mount Atlas; 
 
 from thence he proceeds to Carthage, and delivers to /Eneas the 
 
 command of Jove. /Eneas with reluctance begins secretly to prepare 
 
 for his voyage. 
 
 So he spoke ; the other made ready to obey the mandate of his 
 mighty sire ; and first he fastens on his feet the winged sandals all 
 of gold, which bear him soaring on his wings, either over sea or land, 
 as swiftly as the rushing blast. Next he takes his wand ; with it he 
 summons forth from Orcus pale spirits, others he sends down to gloomy 
 Tartarus ; he gives sleep, and takes it away, and unseals the eyes from 
 death ; strong in its power he drives the winds before him, and stems the 
 stormy clouds ; and now, as he flies along, he descries the crest and 
 steep sides of hardy Atlas, who props the heaven on his top, Atlas, 
 whose piny head, ever encircled with black clouds, is lashed by wind 
 and rain ; snow pours down and covers his shoulders ; besides, torrents 
 flow headlong down the old man's chin, and his beard is bristling and 
 stiff with ice. Here first Cyllenius, poised on even pinions, paused ; 
 hence with all his force he shot straight downward to the sea, in sem- 
 blance like a bird, which round about the coast, and about the rocks 
 where fish abound, flies low close to the surface of the sea. Even so the 
 child of Cyllene, as he came from his maternal grandfather, flew along 
 between earth and sky, cleaving his way between the sandy shore of 
 Libya and the winds. As soon as ever he reached on his winged feet 
 the mean suburbs of the city, he beholds ^Eneas laying the foundation 
 of fortresses and rebuilding houses : the sword he wore was starred 
 with yellow jasper, and the mantle that hung down from his shoulders 
 blazed with Tyrian purple, a gift which wealthy Dido had wrought, 
 and interwoven the warp with golden thread. At once he accosts him : 
 "Is it you that now are laying the foundations of proud Carthage, 
 and in your fondness for a wife are building up a splendid city? Alas, 
 forgetful of your realm and fortunes ! The ruler of the gods himself 
 sends me down to you from bright Olympus, he who sways by his will 
 heaven and earth, he himself bids me carry these commands through 
 the fleet breezes ; what are you planning ? or with what expectation 
 do you idly loiter in the land of Libya? If the glory of such high 
 fortunes has no power to stir you, and you do not yourself, for your 
 own renown, take in hand the task, regard the rising fortune of Ascanius, 
 and the promise of lulus your heir, to whom the realm of Italy and 
 the land of Rome belong by right." When Cyllenius had uttered these 
 words, he left the sight of man while the words were still on his lips, and 
 vanished from the eyes far away into fleeting air. But /Eneas straightway 
 was struck speechless with amazement at the sight, and his hair stood 
 on end with horror, and his words were stifled in his throat. He longs 
 to flee away, and leave the land he loves, awe-struck at so high a 
 warning and the divine command. Alas what is he to do? with what 
 address can he now dare to try to conciliate the frantic queen? what 
 opening can he adopt? And now hither now thither he swiftly de- 
 
134 VIRGIL. [IV. 2g 
 
 spatches his divided mind, and hurries it in various directions, and 
 continually whirls it through everything. As he balanced his plans, 
 this seemed to be the best ; he summons Mnestheus and Sergestus 
 and the valiant Serestus, and bids them silently equip the fleet, and 
 muster their comrades to the shore, and get ready their arms, and 
 disguise the motive for the change of scheme : he himself meanwhile, 
 since the good Dido is in ignorance, and cannot imagine that so deep 
 a love can be broken off, will try to discover the means to approach 
 her, and the times when she can be addressed most gently, and the 
 method proper for his object. Quickly all with joy obey his order, and 
 haste to execute his commands. 
 
 296 — 361. Dido at once detects the purpose of Jgneas. She intreats him 
 710 1 to forsake her. JEneas pleads the inexorable- command offove. 
 But the queen divined his craft, (who can deceive a lover?) and from 
 the first surmised the coming storm,, distrusting even perfect safety. The 
 same impious Fame brought her news that the fleet was being equipped, 
 and preparations made for a voyage. Bereft of sense she raves, and fired 
 with madness rushes wildly all through the city, like a Thyiad roused by 
 the moving of the sacred mysteries, when the cry of Bacchus is heard, and 
 the triennial orgies goad her to frenzy, and Cithesron by night invites her 
 with its din. At length she anticipates yEneas by accosting him with 
 these words: "Did you think, traitor, that you could even disguise so 
 great a crime, and leave my land in silence ? Does neither my love, nor 
 the hand you gave me once, nor Dido doomed to die by a cruel death, 
 keep you back ? Moreover are you constructing a fleet in the winter 
 season, and hastening to sail over the deep while the winds are at the 
 height of their rage, hard-hearted? Why, if you were not trying to reach 
 lands that belong to others, and a home that you know not, and if old 
 Troy were standing, would your fleet set out for Troy over a boisterous 
 sea? Is it I whom you fly from ? By these tears of mine and your own 
 plighted hand, since by my own act I have left nothing else to my 
 wretched self, by our union, by the marriage we have entered upon, if 
 I have deserved well of you in aught, or anything of mine has been dear 
 to you, pity my sinking house, and, if there is still any room for prayer, 
 cast aside your resolve, I entreat you. You are the cause that the tribes 
 of Libya and the chiefs of the Numidians hate me, that my Tyrians are 
 disaffected. You too are the cause that my chastity is lost, and former 
 reputation, by which only I could have risen to the stars. To whom do 
 you give me up, me at the point of death, my guest? For this name is 
 all that remains of that of husband. Why do I pause? Is it till my 
 brother Pygmalion demolish my walls, or the Gaetulian Iarbas carry me 
 away captive ? If only I had become the mother of any child by you 
 before your flight, if some little ^Eneas were playing in my palace, who, 
 after all, might reflect you in his countenance, I am sure I should not 
 think myself utterly captive and desolate." She ended : he through the 
 warning of Jove kept his eyes still unmoved, and with an effort confined 
 his pain within his heart. At last he makes a short reply: "I will never 
 deny, O queen, that you have fully merited the utmost that you have the 
 power of reckoning in words ; and I shall not be sorry to remember 
 
IV. 3S7.] THE 2ENEID. 135 
 
 Eiissa as long as I remember my own self, as long as the breath of life 
 rules these limbs. I will speak shortly as the subject demands. I neither 
 thought to conceal this my flight clandestinely (do not imagine it\ nor 
 did I ever hold forth a husband's torches, or enter into such an alliance 
 as this. Would fate allow me to lead my life according to my own 
 choice, and settle my troubles at my own pleasure, I would make the city 
 of Troy my dwelling above all others, among the dear remnant of my 
 people ; the proud palace of Priam should still stand, and my hand should 
 have founded for the vanquished a second Pergama. But now it is 
 mighty Italy that Grynean Apollo, it is Italy that the Lycian oracles have 
 bade me strive to reach : here is my love, here is my country. If the 
 citadel of Carthage and the sight of a Libyan city charm you a Phoenician, 
 why after this are you jealous, if Trojans settle in Ausonian land ? We 
 too have a right to seek out a foreign kingdom. Me the troubled phantom 
 of my father Anchises, whenever night shrouds the world with her damp 
 shadows, whenever the fiery stars arise, warns in sleep, and terrifies ; me 
 my young Ascanius grieves, and the wrong done to one I love, whom 
 I am defrauding of the realm of Italy, and the fields given by fate. Now 
 too the interpreter of heaven, sent by Jove himself (I call to witness both 
 divinities), has brought me commands through the fleet breezes : with my 
 own eyes I saw the god in full light entering the city, and drank in his 
 words with these ears. Cease to kindle by your complaints both yourself 
 and me : it is not by choice I follow Italy." 
 
 362 — 392. Dido bursts into an agony of passionate reproaches. 
 All through this speech she views him with averted looks, rolling 
 her eyes hither and thither, and surveys him from head to foot with 
 silent gaze, and thus breaks forth in rage: "Neither was a goddess 
 your mother, nor Dardanus the founder of your race, traitor! but Cau- 
 casus bristling with rugged rocks begot you, and Hyrcanian tigresses 
 gave you suck. For why do I disguise my feelings? Or for what 
 deeper insults do I curb myself? Has he sighed at my weeping? 
 Has his look relented? Has he been subdued to tears, or pitied his 
 lover? W T hat shall I say first, what next? Surely, surely, neither 
 mighty Juno, nor the Father, the son of Saturn, behold these deeds 
 with impartial eyes. There is no true honour in the world. Cast out 
 upon the shore, destitute, I took him to myself, and madly established 
 him in a share of my kingdom. I saved his lost fleet, I rescued his com- 
 rades from death. Alas ! I am driven along fired by furies. Now the 
 diviner Apollo, now the Lycian oracles, now, too, sent by Jove himself, 
 the interpreter of heaven bears through the breezes his horrible. com- 
 mands. No doubt such a task belongs to the gods above, no doubt such 
 a care troubles their tranquillity. I neither try to hold you here, nor refute 
 your words ; go, follow your Italy, wafted by the winds, make for your 
 kingdom o'er the waves. I at least hope, that if righteous deities have 
 any power, you will drain the cup of retribution amid the rocks, and often 
 call upon the name of Dido! With black fires I will pursue you, though 
 I be far away ; and, when cold death has separated my limbs from my 
 spirit, my shade shall be with you wherever you are. You shall receive 
 your punishment, wicked one ! I shall hear it, and the story of it will 
 
136 VIRGIL. [IV. 388— 
 
 come to me through the depths of hell:" With these words she suddenly 
 breaks off her speech, and, sick with sorrow, shuns the daylight, and turns 
 away, and withdraws herself from sight, leaving him full of hesitation 
 through fear, and essaying oft to speak. The maidens take her up, and 
 bear back her lifeless limbs to her marble chamber, and lay them on the 
 couch. 
 
 393 — 449. JEneas continues to prepare his fleet for the voyage. Dido again 
 and again implores him to stay. She begs her sister to beseech him to 
 remain at least for a short time; but An?ids intreaties are fruitless. 
 But pious ./Eneas, though he longs to soothe and comfort her sorrow, 
 and to divert her pain by his words, often sighing, and staggered in reso- 
 lution by strong love, nevertheless begins to execute the commands of 
 heaven, and revisits his fleet. Then indeed the Trojans set themselves 
 to the work, and launch the lofty ships all along the shore. The keel is 
 careened and floated, and they bring leafy oars, and unshaped timber 
 from the forests, in their eagerness for flight. You might observe them in 
 the act of departing, and flocking out from all quarters of the city. Even 
 as when ants, mindful of the winter, ravage a huge heap of corn, and 
 store it up in their abode, the black troop moves across the plains, and 
 over the grass they incessantly carry in the plunder along the narrow 
 way; some with all their force push on with their shoulders mighty grains 
 of corn, some keep the line together, and punish the slothful ; the whole 
 path is alive with the work. What was then your feeling, Dido, when 
 you discerned such a sight, or what sighs did you heave, when from the 
 height of your citadel you saw before you the long line of the shore full 
 of life, and beheld the whole surface of the sea beneath your eyes made 
 tumultuous with such loud clamours? Wicked love, what is there to 
 which you do not drive the hearts of men? She is driven to resort again 
 to tears, again to strive to win him by intreaty, and humbly to surrender 
 her pride to love, lest she leave any course untried, and so die in vain, 
 " Anna, you see the busy haste all along the shore ; already the sail in- 
 vites the gales, and the mariners in their joy have wreathed the sterns 
 with garlands. I, since I have been able to look forward to so cruel a 
 blow, shall also be able to endure it, my sister. Nevertheless, perform 
 this one kindness for me, Anna, in my misery ; for that traitor used to 
 court the friendship of you alone, to intrust to you his inmost feelings ; 
 you alone knew to what means and at what times he was most easily ac- 
 cessible ; go, my sister, and humbly address my haughty enemy ; I did 
 not conspire at Aulis with the Greeks to destroy the Trojan people, or 
 send a fleet to Pergama ; nor have I torn from the grave the ashes or the 
 spirit of Anchises, that he should refuse to allow my words to enter his 
 deaf ears. Whither is he recklessly rushing? Let him grant this last 
 gift to his hapless lover : let him wait for an easy flight, and winds to 
 waft him. I no longer ask for our former marriage, in which he has 
 played me false, nor that he be deprived of his fair Latium, and forsake 
 his kingdom; I crave nothing but time, a space for my frenzy to abate, 
 wherein my fortune may teach me whom she has vanquished to mourn. 
 I beg of you this last kindness, pity your sister; and, if you grant it me, 
 I will repay you with the interest of my death." Such were the intreaties 
 
IV. 486.] THE JBNEID. 137 
 
 she used to make, and such the lamentations her unhappy sister bears 
 and bears again to him. But he is not melted by any lamentations, 
 nor listens compliantly to any addresses ; fate stands in the way, and 
 heaven stops the unmoved ears of the hero. Even as when Alpine blasts 
 strive one against another to tear up an oak vigorous in its ancient 
 strength, blowing upon it now from this point, now from that, a creaking 
 is heard, and, as the trunk is shaken, the foliage deeply strews the 
 ground ; the tree itself clings to the crag, and as far as it lifts its top to 
 the air of heaven, so far does it extend its root to hell. Just so, the hero 
 is beaten upon by incessant intreaties from every point, and feels the 
 pain keenly in his mighty heart : his resolve remains unshaken ; the tears 
 that fall are vain. 
 
 450 — 473. Dido's despair. Her presages of death. 
 
 Then it is that hapless Dido, distracted by fate, prays for death ; she 
 loathes to look upon the vault of heaven. To make her more deter- 
 mined to fulfil her design, and leave the light, she saw, when she was 
 laying her gifts on the altar of burnt incense, (a frightful thing to tell,) 
 the holy water growing black, and the wine, as she poured it out, turning 
 into unclean gore. She revealed this that she had seen to no one, not 
 even to her sister. Moreover, there was in her mansion a marble temple 
 to her former husband, which she used to cherish with wondrous homage, 
 and garland it with fillets of snowy wool and festal foliage. Hence she 
 plainly seemed to hear the solemn speech and summons of her lord, when 
 gloomy night was mistress of the world ; and oft she heard the solitary 
 owl on her high station give forth the sad sepulchral strain, and prolong 
 her lingering lamentable cry : and moreover many a prediction of ancient 
 prophets affrights her with its awful warning. In her dreams y£neas 
 himself savagely drives her frantic before him ; and ever to be left all 
 alone she seems, ever to be journeying without a companion on an end- 
 less way, and seeking to find her Tyrians in a desolate land. Like as 
 Pentheus in his madness sees the troops of the Eumenides, and a twofold 
 sun, and a double Thebes rise to view; or as the son of Agamemnon, 
 Orestes, driven over the stage, when he flees from his mother armed with 
 firebrands and deadly serpents, and the avenging furies sit in the 
 threshold. 
 
 474 — 503. Dido, by disguising her purpose, persuades Anna to pi'epare 
 
 the funeral pile. 
 
 Therefore when she has taken the frenzy to her bosom, overpowered 
 by misery, and doomed herself to die, she works out with her own heart 
 the time and the means, and, addressing her speech to her sorrowing 
 sister, conceals her purpose by her looks, and wears upon her brow the 
 serenity of hope : " I have discovered a plan, congratulate me, my sister, 
 to give him back to me, or release me from my love for him. Near the 
 ocean that binds the earth, and near the setting sun, lies the remotest 
 spot of Ethiopia, where mightly Atlas upholds upon his shoulder the re- 
 volving heaven studded with burning stars ; a priestess from hence, a-Mas- 
 sylian by nation, has been pointed out to me, the keeper of the temple of 
 the Hesperides, who used to give feasts to the dragon, and guarded the 
 .holy boughs on the tree, sprinkling the food with dewy honey and sleepy 
 
138 VIRGIL. [IV. 487— 
 
 poppy. She professes to release by charms whatever minds she pleases, 
 but upon others to inflict cruel pains, to stay the current of rivers, and 
 turn back the courses of the stars ; and she calls up by night the spirits 
 of the dead. You may perceive the earth rumble beneath your feet, and 
 the ash-trees come down from the mountains. I take to witness, my dear 
 sister, the gods, and thee, and thy sweet self, that unwillingly I arm my- 
 self with magic arts. Secretly erect, I pray you, a funeral pile rising to- 
 ward heaven in the inner court of my house, and upon it let them lay the 
 arms of the man, which the impious one left hanging in the chamber, and 
 all he once wore, and the marriage-bed, the scene of my ruin ; it is my 
 pleasure to destroy all that reminds me of the wicked man, and the 
 priestess so instructs me." Thus she speaks, and is silent ; pallor withal 
 overspreads her countenance. Nevertheless, Anna does not believe that 
 she is hiding death behind her strange rites, and does not realise such a 
 pitch of frenzy, or fear anything worse than happened at the death of 
 Sychaeus. Therefore she prepares what is asked for. 
 
 504 — 521. Dido dresses the funeral pile. 
 But the queen, when, in the retirement of her dwelling, the pile has 
 been built up on high, huge with pine-brands and fagots of the ilex, 
 strews garlands over the spot, and crowns it with funeral foliage : on 
 the top she lays all that was his, and the sword that he left, and his 
 image, on the couch, knowing well that which was to be. The altars 
 are set up around, and the priestess with loosened hair loudly invokes 
 the three hundred gods, and Erebus, and Chaos, and the threefold 
 Hecate, the chaste Diana of triple countenance. She had also poured 
 out sprinklings of water which pretended to be of the fount of Avernus, 
 and downy plants that hold the milk of black poison are sought for, cut 
 with brazen shears by moonlight, and the love-charm is sought for that 
 is torn away from the forehead of a colt at its birth, and seized before 
 the dam can take it. She herself, with holy meal and holy hands, beside 
 the altars, with one foot stripped of its sandal, in flowing dress, with death 
 in view, invokes the gods, and the stars that know the will of fate: next, 
 she prays to every power that justly and mindfully keeps watch over lovers 
 ill-matched in their union. 
 
 522 — 553. /;/ the silent night Dido is restless with grief ci7id fre)izy. 
 'Twas night, and weary bodies throughout the world were enjoying quiet 
 repose, and the woods and wild waves had sunk to rest; at the hour 
 when the stars are in the midst of their circling course, when every 
 field is still, when beasts and painted birds, both those that haunt the 
 wide waters of the mere, and those that dwell in the savage thickets 
 of the country, hushed in sleep beneath the silent night, soothed their 
 sorrows and their hearts that had forgot their troubles. But not so 
 the Phoenician wretched in soul ; and never does she sink to sleep, 
 or take in the night with eyes or bosom ; her pain redoubles, and her 
 love again swells up and surges, and she is swayed by a mighty tide 
 of passion. Thus then she begins, and so she ponders with her own 
 heart ; " Now what am I about ? shall I, now that I am scorned, go 
 back, and court those that were my suitors, and humbly beg for 
 marriage among the Numidians, though I have already so often dis- 
 
IV. 58?.] THE JEXEID. 139 
 
 darned them for husbands ? Shall I then follow the fleets of Ilium, and 
 obey the utmost that the Trojans command ? Shall I do so because 
 they are glad to have been once relieved by my help, and gratitude for 
 a past deed is still cherished in their memories ? But suppose that I 
 were willing ; who will let me do so, or receive in his haughty ships my 
 hateful self? Alas, lost one, are you so ignorant, and do you not yet 
 realise the treachery of the race of Laomedon ? What next ? Shall I, 
 all alone, accompany the exulting mariners in flight? Or shall I, en- 
 circled by my Tyrians, and the whole force of my people, bear down 
 upon them, and again force over the sea the men whom I could 
 scarcely tear away from the city of Sidon, and shall I bid them unfurl 
 their sails to the winds ? Nay, die, as you deserve, and drive away 
 your sorrow with the sword. It is you, that, overpowered by my tears, 
 it is you, my sister, that first loaded me in my frenzy with these ills, 
 and exposed me to my enemy. And I was not permitted to pass a 
 blameless life, like a wild creature, free from wedlock, and to leave such 
 cares untouched ! My faith has not been kept, the faith I pledged to 
 the ashes of Sychaeus." Such was the outburst of wailing that she uttered 
 from her heart. 
 
 554 — 583. Wanted by Mercwy, JEneas suddenly sets sail. 
 
 ^Eneas on his high poop, being now resolved to start, was lying asleep, 
 all things being now duly prepared. To him the form of the god, as he 
 returned in the same guise, was presented in sleep, and a second time 
 seemed thus to warn him, in all points like to Mercury, both in voice, and 
 bloom, and auburn hair, and the youthful beauty of his limbs: "Goddess- 
 born, can you still sleep on in such a crisis, and are you so mad as not 
 to discern the immediate perils that encompass you, nor to hear the 
 favourable breezes blow? She is planning within her heart craft and 
 accursed crime, now determined to die, and is waking the tossing tides of 
 passion. Do you not flee hence with headlong speed, while there is yet 
 space to speed away ? Soon you will behold the sea surging with ships, 
 and fierce firebrands blazing, soon you will see the shore glowing with 
 flames, if the dawn find you lingering in this land. Come now, break off 
 delay. A thing fickle and changeable ever is woman." So he spoke, and 
 melted into black darkness. Then it is that ^neas, struck with alarm at 
 the sudden apparition, tears himself from sleep, and urges his comrades 
 to the utmost: " Speedily awake, my warriors, and set yourselves to row ; 
 swiftly unfurl the sails, Lo, a god, sent from the height of heaven, again 
 spurs us on to flee away in haste, and cut the twisted cables. We follow 
 thee, holy divinity, whosoever thou art, and again with gladness obey 
 thy command. May'st thou be with us, 1 pray, and aid us with thy grace, 
 and send into the sky propitious stars." He spoke, and snatches from 
 the scabbard his flashing sword, and strikes the hawsers with the naked 
 blade. All are at once possessed with the same ardour; they hurry and 
 hasten ; the shore is deserted ; the sea is hidden beneath the fleet, with 
 vigour they dash up the foam, and sweep the dark blue sea. 
 584 — 629. Dido descries the fleet of Apneas as it sails away. She breaks 
 
 out into a passion of rage, and prays that Carthage may ever be the 
 
 foe and the scourge of Italy. 
 
140 VIRGIL. [IV. 584— 
 
 And now Aurora, as she left the saffron couch of Tithonus, was just 
 beginning to shower fresh light upon the world. The queen, as soon as 
 ever she saw the first whitening streak of dawn, and the fleet moving 
 onward with level sails, and perceived that the shore and harbours were 
 quite deserted by the mariners, again and again striking violently her 
 beauteous breast, and tearing her auburn hair: "O Jove," she says, 
 "shall this man, this foreigner, escape, after he has mocked my realm? 
 Will ye not arm with speed, and pursue him from all parts of the city, 
 and others at once draw down the ships from the dockyards ? Begone, 
 fetch me firebrands quickly, give me weapons, ply your oars. What am 
 I saying? or where am I? What madness makes my purpose change? 
 Unhappy Dido ! Do your impious deeds come home to you now ? They 
 should have done so at the time that you gave him your sceptre. Behold 
 the truth and honour of him, who, they say, carries with him the house- 
 hold gods of his family ; of him who bore upon his shoulders his father 
 worn with age. Had I not the power to drag him away and tear his 
 body in pieces and strew it o'er the waves? Could I not have slain with 
 the sword his comrades, nay, Ascanius himself, and served him to form 
 a feast at his father's table? But the chance of battle would have been 
 doubtful. It would: whom could I, doomed to die, be afraid of? 1 could 
 have carried fire into his camp, and filled his decks with flames, and 
 utterly destroyed both son and sire and all the race ; then with my own 
 hand would have added myself to the number. O Sun, who visitest with 
 thy fires all the deeds of earth, and thou, Juno, who art the expounder 
 and the conscious witness of these pains of love, and Hecate, that art 
 invoked with cries by night at the crossways throughout the cities, and ye 
 avenging Furies, and ye, guardian gods of dying Elissa, receive these 
 words, and direct your well-deserved wrath against evil deeds, and hear 
 my prayers. If it must be that his abhorred self reach the harbour, and 
 swim to land, and if thus the fates of Jove require, if this be determined 
 and fixed, still, harassed by the war and hostility of a bold nation, driven 
 from his land, torn away from the arms of lulus, may he beg for help, 
 and behold the shameful deaths of his people ; and may he not, when he 
 has submitted to the conditions of an unequal peace, enjoy his kingdom 
 or the prosperity he longs for; but fall before his time, and lie unburied 
 on the open shore. This is my prayer, these my last words I pour out 
 with my blood. Then do ye, O Tyrians, persecute with hatred his 
 descendants, and all the future race, and send this as an offering to my 
 ashes. Let there be no love and no league between the nations. Arise, 
 some avenger, from my bones, to chase with fire and sword the Dardan 
 settlers — now — hereafter — at any time, when strength shall be given. I 
 pray that shore may be against shore, sea against sea, army against army : 
 may both they that live now and their posterity be enemies." 
 630 — 705. The story of Dido's death. 
 
 So she spoke, and continually turned her thoughts in all directions, 
 seeking how most speedily to break off from her the light she hates. 
 Then in few words she addressed Barce the nurse of Sychaeus ; for her 
 own was lying in black ashes in her old fatherland : " Dear nurse, bring 
 hither to me where I stand my sister Anna ; tell her to haste and sprinkle 
 
IV. 685.] THE JENEID. 141 
 
 her body with river-water, and bring with her the prescribed victims and 
 propitiatory offerings ; in such manner let her come : and you yourself 
 shade your brow with the sacred fillet. It is my purpose to perform the 
 sacrifice to Stygian Jove, which I have duly entered upon and prepared, 
 and to put an end to my woes, and consign to the flame the funeral pile 
 of him that is the offspring of Dardanus." So she speaks ; the other 
 hastened her steps with an old woman's offlciousness. But Dido, all 
 trembling, and wild with her savage task, rolling her blood-shot eyes, and 
 with her quivering cheeks interspersed with hectic spots, and pale at the 
 approach of death, rushes through the doorway of the inner portion of the 
 palace, and, full of frenzy, mounts the lofty pile, and unsheathes the 
 Dardan sword, a gift that had not been asked for such a purpose as this. 
 Hereupon, when she had viewed the Trojan dresses and the well-known 
 couch, after pausing awhile in tears and thought, she threw herself upon 
 the bed, and spoke her last words : "Ye dear adornments, so long as fate 
 and heaven allowed, receive this spirit of mine, and release me from these 
 woes. I have lived my life, and finished the course that fortune assigned 
 me, and now great will be my phantom that will pass beneath the earth. 
 I have set up a glorious city, I have seen the walls that I have built 
 myself, I have avenged my husband, I have exacted retribution from my 
 hostile brother — happy, alas too happy, if only the Dardan ships had 
 never reached my shore !" She spoke; and with her lips pressed upon 
 the couch, " Shall I die unrevenged? But yet let me die," she says ; 
 "thus, thus it is my joy to descend into the darkness. Let the cruel 
 Trojan drink in with his eyes the sight of this fire from the deep, and 
 carry with him the omens of my death." She ended ; and with such 
 words still on her lips, her attendants see her fallen upon the blade, and 
 the sword reeking with gore, and her hands bespattered with it. A cry 
 goes up to the height of the halls ; Fame rushes wildly through the 
 frighted city. The houses resound with wailings and groans and the 
 shrieks of women ; the sky reechoes with loud laments. Just as if 
 Carthage or ancient Tyre had been stormed by the enemy, and was 
 sinking altogether into ruins, and the furious flames were rolling through 
 the dwellings of men and the temples of the gods. Aghast was her sister 
 when she heard it; and all distracted as she hurries along, disfiguring her 
 face with her nails, and her bosom with her fists, she rushed through the 
 throng, and cries to her dying sister by name : " Was this your purpose, 
 my sister ? Did you assail me with guile ? Was it this that the funeral 
 pile you asked for, this that the fires and the altar were to bring me? 
 What shall be my first lament in my desolation ? Did you scorn to have 
 your sister for your companion in death ? You should have invited me to 
 the same doom ; the same pang dealt by the sword and the same hour 
 should have despatched us both. Did I really build the pile with these 
 hands, and solemnly summon the gods of our country, in order to be 
 cruelly away from you when lying like this ? You have destroyed your- 
 self and me, my sister, and your subjects, and the senators of Sidon, and 
 your city. Bring water for her wound ; I will wash away the blood, and 
 if there still remains any last fluttering breath, I will catch it with my lips." 
 So she spoke, and had reached the top of the lofty steps, and throwing 
 
I4 2 VIRGIL. [IV. 686— 
 
 her arms around her swooning sister, clasped her in her bosom with 
 sighs, and strove to stanch with her dress' the black gore. The other, 
 after trying to lift up her heavy eyes, sinks back again ; the sword fixed 
 deep grides within her breast. Thrice rising, and resting on her elbow, 
 she lifted herself up ; thrice she rolled back upon the couch, and with 
 swimming eyes sought to find the light in the height of heaven, and, when 
 she found it, sighed. Then almighty Juno, in compassion for her long 
 agony and painful departure, sent down Iris from Olympus to release the 
 wrestling spirit, and the limbs that are entwined around it. For inasmuch 
 as she was perishing neither by nature nor by a deserved death, but 
 miserably before her time, and fired by sudden frenzy, Proserpine had not 
 yet taken from her head the yellow lock, and consigned her lite to Stygian 
 Orcus. Therefore Iris flies down through the sky, all dewy on her saffron 
 wings, trailing in the light of the opposite sun a thousand various hues, 
 and takes her stand above her head ; " I by command bear away this 
 lock holy to Dis, and release you from this body." So she savs, and with 
 her hand severs the lock : and in a moment all warmth has fled away, 
 and life faded into the winds. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 I — 34. The flaiiies of the funeral pile of Dido are an evil omen to the 
 Trojans 011 the deep. Stormy weather warns them to turn aside to 
 Sicily. 
 
 Meanwhile ^neas was now in his mid-course o'er the sea, firm in his 
 purpose, and was cutting through the dark waves ruffled by the north 
 wind, and looked back on the walls, which were now bright with the fires 
 of the funeral pyre of unhappy Dido. Unknown was the cause which had 
 lighted so great a flame ; but the thought how cruel are the pains of 
 a strong passion when violated, and the knowledge of what a frenzied 
 woman can do, cause the minds of the Trojans to pass through sad fore- 
 bodings. When the vessels were out at open sea, and no land met the 
 sight any more, but sea everywhere, and sky everywhere, o'er his head 
 there gathered a dark storm of rain, bringing with it gloom and foul 
 weather, and the wave ruffled beneath the darkness. Then spake the 
 pilot Palinurus himseif from the lofty stern: "Alas! why have such 
 clouds o'ercast the sky? What dost thou threaten, father Neptune?" 
 He spake, and at once bids them reef the sails and labour at their 
 strong oars, and sidewards turn the sails to meet the wind, and speaks 
 thus : " Noble ^Eneas, not if Jove himself would give me the warrant of 
 his word, could I hope to reach Italy in such weather. The winds have 
 changed, and roar across our course, as they rise from the lowering sunset, 
 and the air is thickening into clouds. Nor have we strength to struggle in 
 the teeth of the wind, or make head against it. Since Fortune prevails, let 
 us even obey, and turn our course to her bidding. Far off cannot be, I 
 imagine, the trusty shores of your brother Eryx, and the harbour of Sicily, 
 if only I am duly mindful, when I again note the stars, before observed." 
 To him said pious ^Eneas : " I too all along have known that the winds 
 will so have it, and see that in vain you try to make head against them. 
 
r J — . _ 
 
 V. 1i ] THE ALNEID. 143 
 
 Shift your sails, and turn your course. Can there be a land more pleasant 
 to me, or one to which I would rather direct my weary ships, than that 
 which holds my friend, Dardan Acestes, and in its bosom embraces the 
 bones of my father Anchises?" So said he; they made straight for the 
 harbour ; the favourable west-winds fill their sails, swiftly o'er the swelling 
 sea is borne the fleet, and at last they gladly turn to the familiar shore. 
 35 — 41. u^Eneas is hospitably received by Acestes. 
 
 But at a distance on the summit of a lofty hill Acestes wonders at the 
 coming of the friendly ships, and hastes to meet them : roughly was he 
 dressed, armed with javelins, clad in the skin of an African bear ; him a 
 Trojan mother had borne to the river Crimisus. He was not unmindful of 
 his sires of old, and welcomes them on their return, and gladly entertains 
 them with rustic wealth, and consoles the weary mariners with friendly 
 supplies. 
 
 42 — 71. As it is the anniversary of the funeral cf Anchises, his son 
 declares he will celebrate games in honour of his memory. 
 
 When the bright morrow put the stars to flight at the early rising of the 
 sun, ^neas summons his comrades from the whole shore to a meeting, 
 and speaks from the eminence of a mound : " Noble children of Darda- 
 nus, descendants of the mighty gods, the months have run their course, 
 and the year's circle is completed since the day that we committed to the 
 earth the remains and bones of my parent, the seer, and dedicated the 
 altars of grief. And now, unless I am mistaken, the day is at hand, 
 which I shall always keep as a day of sadness, always as one to be much 
 observed ; it was heaven's will, we must submit. This day I would keep, 
 if I were an exile in the African Syrtes, or overtaken by a storm in the 
 Grecian sea, or if I were in the very heart of Mycenae, yet would I 
 perform my annual vows, and duly solemnise the day by processions, and 
 load the altar with its proper gifts. Now by no will of mine we are come 
 even to the ashes and bones of my father, I cannot think without the pur- 
 pose and providence of heaven, and have been wafted hither and entered 
 a friendly harbour. Come then, and with one consent let us gladly cele- 
 brate this worship ; let us invoke the winds ; and so may my father will, 
 that, when I have founded my town, I may year by year offer these sacred 
 rites to him in a consecrated temple. Acestes of Trojan race gives you 
 for every ship two heads of oxen according to the number of vessels ; 
 invite to your feasts the Penates of your country, and those worshipped 
 by our host Acestes. Further, when the ninth morn raises its genial 
 light for mortals, and with the beams of the sun reveals the world, then I 
 will propose for the Trojans first a contest of swift-sailing ships ; and he 
 who is strong in the foot-race, and he who bold in strength bears himself 
 better than others, either to throw the dart or shoot with light arrows, 
 and if there be one who dares to engage with the cestus of ox-hide, let 
 them altogether be present, and expect to receive the prizes earned by 
 victory. See that you all eschew ill-omened words, and crown your 
 brows with leaves." * 
 
 72 — 103. As they worship the spirit of Anchises, a harmless snake glides 
 over the altar. It is perhaps the familiar spirit of the father of 
 Apneas. 
 
144 VIRGIL. [V. 72—' 
 
 He speaks, and puts around his temples a wreath of his mother's myrtle. 
 Helymus does the same, the same Acestes ripe in years, the same does 
 the boy Ascanius, the rest of the youth follow. Then from the council 
 went the hero to the mound, with many thousands, in the centre of the 
 great crowd that attended. And here he duly pours in libation two 
 bowls full of unmixed wine, two of new milk, two of the blood of the 
 victims; and scatters bright flowers, and thus he speaks: "Hail, holy 
 parent, the second time hail, ye ashes, which I again revisit in vain, and 
 thou soul and shade of my sire. For heaven did not suffer me to have you 
 with me in my search for the coasts of Italy, and the fields the fates give 
 us, and Ausonian Tiber, whate'er that stream may be." He finished his 
 speech, when from the depth of the holy tomb came gliding a serpent, 
 which with huge length trailed seven coils, seven folds ; gently round the 
 tomb it went, passing lightly o'er the altar: blue were the streaks on its 
 back, but bright spots of gold made its scales to blaze like fire ; as when 
 in the clouds the rainbow casts a thousand colours of various hue from 
 the opposite sun. Amazed at the sight was ^Eneas. The serpent with 
 long trail crawling between the bowls and polished cups just tasted the 
 meats, and harmless slunk back beneath the shelter of the tomb, and left 
 the altars where he had fed. Encouraged by this the hero renews the offer- 
 ings to his father, which he had begun ; he knew not whether to think this 
 to be the Genius of the place, or the attendant spirit of his sire ; two 
 sheep he sacrifices according to the rites, as many swine, as many steers 
 with sable backs ; and oft he poured wine from the bowls, inviting the 
 soul of great Anchises and the spirit freed from Acheron. Moreover, his 
 comrades, each according to their ability, with cheerful mind offer gifts, 
 they load the altar, and sacrifice steers ; others in order set the caldrons, 
 and, stretched along the grass, beneath the spits place hot burning coals, 
 and roast the entrails. 
 
 104 — 123. The names of the ships and captains of the vessels that start 
 
 in the race. 
 
 And now the long-expected day was come, and the steeds of the 
 bright god ushered in the ninth morn with unclouded light, and rumour 
 and the name of famous Acestes had roused the neighbouring people ; 
 they crowded the shore with joyous company, for they had come partly 
 to see ^Eneas' men, and partly were prepared to enter the lists. There 
 first, before the eyes of all and in the centre of the circus, are placed 
 the gifts ; sacred tripods, and chaplets of green leaves, and palms, 
 the victor's prize, and arms, and robes dyed with Tyrian purple, a 
 talent of gold and a talent of silver ; then the trumpet from the centre 
 of the mound with its notes proclaims the opening of the games. First 
 enter the contest four ships chosen from the whole fleet, fairly matched with 
 their heavy banks of oars. Swift was the Pristis which Mnestheus pro- 
 pels with his spirited crew; (soon would he be Mnestheus of Italy; from 
 his name are called the house of Memmius :) huge was the Chimaera, huge 
 its bulk, which Gyas commands ; it seems like a floating town ; it the 
 Dardan youth impel with triple tier of rowers ; in three banks rise the 
 oars : next Sergestus, from whom the house of Sergius has its name, is 
 
V. i7i.] THE ^ENEID. 145 
 
 borne in the mighty Centaur ; whilst in the dark-blue Scylla comes 
 Cloanthus, from whom you are descended, O Roman Cluentius. 
 124 — 243. The course, the swiftness of the ships, the various chances of 
 the race, the hard won victory of Cloanthus. 
 In the distance out at sea is a rock facing the foaming beach ; at times 
 it is submerged and buffeted by the swelling waves, when the stormy 
 north-westers hide the stars ; in calm weather it is quiet, and rises 
 above the still sea with level surface ; a station where the cormorants 
 most delight to bask. On it father ^Eneas placed the goal of the race, 
 a green leafy oak as a mark for the mariners, and a point whence they 
 might know when to turn home, and to bend round in the circuit of the 
 long course. Then they choose their places by lot ; and the captains 
 themselves standing on their sterns are seen from afar glittering in the 
 beauty of gold and purple ; the youthful crew are crowned with wreaths of 
 poplar leaf, stripped are their shoulders, and glitter with streaming oil, 
 They take their seats on the benches, their arms are stretched on the oars : 
 intently they wait for the signal ; throbbing excitement and straining 
 passion for renown draw the blood of their bounding hearts. But the 
 moment the clear-toned trumpet gave forth its notes, all at once shot 
 forth from their starting-places ; the shout of the mariners strikes the 
 sky; their arms are drawn to their breast, the sea is turned up, and 
 lashed into foam. They plough up their furrows in time; all the water's 
 surface is opened and dashed up by the oars, and three-headed prows. 
 Not so rapid in the two-horsed race are the chariots, when they scour the 
 plain, and pouring from the starting-point rush forward ; not so eagerly 
 do the charioteers urge the yoked steeds, and shake their waving reins, 
 while they hang forward to give their lashes force. Then the whole forest 
 re-echoes to the applause, and to the shouts and zealous cries of the 
 backers, the shores shut in by woods repeat the sound, the hills are struck 
 and the clamour rebounds. Gyas takes the lead, and in the front skims 
 o'er the waves amidst the confusion and the shouting; next Cloanthus 
 follows close; he was better manned, but his bulky boat clogged his 
 speed. Next to these, at equal distance, the Pristis and the Centaur 
 strive to pass each other and gain the foremost place. At one moment 
 Pristis gains, then the Pristis is beaten and passed by the great Centaur, 
 again they are both level, and shoot forward with prows abreast, cut- 
 ting the briny waters with their long keels. And now they neared the 
 rock, and were close to the turning point, when Gyas, foremost in the 
 race, victor in the midst of the billows, thus charges with loud voice his 
 pilot Mencetes : "Why so far to the right, pray? hither turn your course, 
 hug the rock, let your oar blades graze the cliffs to the left : let others stand 
 out to sea." So said he. Mencetes feared the hidden reefs, and turns his 
 prow towards the deep waters of the open main. " What do you so far 
 out? steer for the rocks, Mencetes," again shouted Gyas to recall him: 
 and lo ! he looks back and sees Cloanthus close to his stern, in posses- 
 sion of the water near the rock. So Cloanthus, between the galley of 
 Gyas and the roaring rocks, just shaves the island in his course to the 
 left, inside Gyas, and suddenly passes the leader, and leaves the goal 
 behind, and now he is in safe waters. Then great was the anger and 
 
 vir. 10 
 
146 VIRGIL. [V. 172— 
 
 fury in the young man's heart ; tears flowed down his cheeks, he forgot 
 his own honour, his comrades' safety, and pushed headlong from the high 
 stern into the sea the dastard Mencetes. Himself as pilot takes his place 
 at the helm, he himself is steersman, and exhorts his men, and turns the 
 rudder to the rock. But heavily rose at length and scarcely from the 
 deep water Mencetes ; for he was old, and he was dripping in his drenched 
 clothes : he swam to the surface of the rock, and sat down on the dry 
 stone. As he fell in, the Trojans laughed ; they laughed at the swimming 
 pilot, they laugh as he vomits from his breast the briny water. Hereupon 
 a joyous hope kindles in the heart of the two rearmost, Sergestus and 
 Mnestheus, that perhaps they might pass the lagging Gyas. Sergestus first 
 gets the foremost place, and nears the rock ; and yet he is not leading by 
 the whole galley's length, he is leading by half a length, half his ship 
 the rival Pristis overlaps with her beak. But Mnestheus paces the deck, 
 and in the midst of his comrades exhorts them, saying: "Now, now, ply 
 your oars, ye that once were comrades of Hector, ye whom in the last for- 
 tunes of Troy I chose for my followers ; now put forth that strength, that 
 spirit which ye once shewed in the African quicksands, and in the Ionian 
 sea, and in the running waves of Malea. I Mnestheus aim not now to gain 
 the prize, nor strive, for victory ; and yet, if only ! — but let those win, to whom 
 Neptune appoints success : to return the last of all would be shameful : 
 my friends, succeed as far as to avoid this, and prevent such foul disgrace." 
 They strain with all their might, and bend to their oars ; mighty are the 
 strokes with which the brazen ship quivers, the water slips away beneath ; 
 then short of breath they pant, their limbs shake, their lips are parched ; 
 sweat courses in rivulets all o'er their frames. Chance, rather than their 
 efforts, brought to the men the honour they coveted. For Sergestus, eager 
 even to frenzy, turns his prow towards the rock, taking the inner side, and 
 enters the dangerous channel, and there the unlucky captain stuck on the 
 jutting shelves. The rocks were shaken with the shock, the oars dashed 
 against the pointed coral, and broke with a crash, the prow was driven 
 in, and motionless there it hung. At once rise the rowers, and loud 
 are their shouts as they stop ; quickly they get out their iron-bound 
 pikes, and sharp-pointed poles, or pick up their broken oars floating in 
 the flood. But joyful is Mnestheus, his success gives him fresh energy, 
 swiftly he plies his bank of oars, and invokes the winds, and makes 
 straight for the waters which flow to the shore, and runs o'er the open 
 main. So a dove, when suddenly scared in her cave, (for her home and 
 beloved nest is in the hollows of the porous stone,) is borne forth in 
 flight towards the fields, and in terror flaps her wings loudly in her dwell- 
 ing, but soon she glides in the calm sky, and skims on her liquid way, nor 
 so much as moves her swift wings. Thus speeds Mnestheus, and thus 
 the Pristis of her own accord flies, and cleaves the water at the end of her 
 course ; the way of the boat bears it as it skims along. And first he leaves 
 Sergestus behind, struggling on the high rock, in the shallows, while in 
 vain he calls for aid, and essays how best to run with broken oars. Then 
 he follows hard on Gyas and the boat Chimaera of huge bulk ; it must 
 needs lose, for it has no pilot. Cloanthus alone remains, and that too 
 close to the end of the race ; Mnestheus pursues him, he strives with all 
 
V. 28o.] THE sEXEID. 147 
 
 his might, he presses him hard. Thereupon the shouts redouble, and all 
 unite with zeal to encourage the pursuer, the air resounds with the 
 tumult. The one crew would be ashamed did they not keep the glory 
 that was theirs, and the honour they had won, they would barter life for 
 victory ; the others success animates ; the thought is father to the power. 
 And perchance with beaks exactly matched they had divided the prize ; but 
 Cloanthus stretched out both his hands to sea, and poured forth earnest 
 prayers, and called upon the gods to hear his vows. "Ye gods, whose em- 
 pire is on the main, o'er whose waters I now run, gladly will I on this shore 
 place before your altars a white bull, binding myself by my vow, and will 
 throw its entrails into the briny billows, and pour flowing wine." He spake, 
 and his words were heard deep down beneath the waves by all the choir of 
 Nereids and of Phorcus, and by the virgin Panopea ; and father Portunus 
 himself with mighty hand pushed the galley in its course. It swifter than 
 wind or flying arrow speeds towards land, and is safe in the deep harbour. 
 244 — 285. y 2 E?ieas gives prizes to the captains of each ship. 
 Then Anchises' son, having summoned all in due form, bids the 
 herald with loud voice declare Cloanthus conqueror, and crowns his tem- 
 ples with a wreath of green bay, and commands them to choose as gifts 
 three steers for each ship, and wine ; and gives them a weighty talent 
 of silver to carry away. To the captains themselves he adds special 
 presents : to the conqueror he gave a cloak with tissue of gold, round 
 the hem of which in deep hue ran Melibcean purple with a double wavy 
 edge ; on it was embroidered the princely boy, who on leafy Ida hotly pur- 
 sues at full speed with his dart the swift stags ; keen hunter he seemed, 
 like to one panting for breath ; Jove's armourbearer soaring up from Ida 
 bore him aloft with his talons. The old guardians of the prince in vain 
 stretch their hands to the stars, and the hounds bay fiercely towards 
 heaven. But he whose merit gained the second place, to him next the 
 hero gives a coat of mail ; it was fastened with clasps, and had a triple tissue 
 of gold ; the chieftain himself had stripped Demoleus of it, when he was 
 conqueror on the banks of swift Simois beneath lofty Ilium ; the captain 
 is to have it to wear, an ornament and defence in battle. Scarcely could 
 the servants, Phegeus and Sagaris, bear the corslet with its mazy twine, 
 as they carried it with effort on their shoulders ; and yet, in days of 
 old, Demoleus clad in this drove before him as he ran the straggling 
 Trojans. As the third prize the hero gives a pair of bronze cauldrons, 
 and bowls of highly wrought silver, embossed with figures. And so they 
 all now had their gifts, and proud of their presents were seen to go, 
 their temples bound with purple ribbons, when, with much effort cleared 
 from the cruel rocks, with oars lost, disabled and crippled, with one tier, 
 Sergestus brought along his galley, in forlorn plight amidst the mocking 
 crowd. So oft a snake has been surprised on the causeway of a road ; 
 a brazen wheel has passed over it obliquely, or with heavy blow some 
 traveller has left it crushed and half dead ; in vain it tries to escape, trail- 
 ing its long body ; in its upper coils it is still fierce, its eyes glare, it raises 
 itself, and lifts its hissing neck ; its lower part, disabled by the wound, 
 still clogs its speed, as ft struggles with its knotty tail, and twists itself 
 into its own folds. Such was the oarage with which the galley slowly 
 
14* VIRGIL. [V. 281— 
 
 moved ; and yet it hoists its canvas, and enters the harbour's mouth with 
 full sails. ./Eneas gives Sergestus the promised present ; for the prince 
 is thankful that the ship is saved, and his comrades rescued from the sea. 
 So he gives him a slave, skilled in the work of the loom, Minerva's art ; she 
 came from Crete, her name was Pholoe, she had two sons at her breast. 
 286 — 361. The footrace. The mutual affection of Nisus and Euryalus. 
 
 Nisus loses the race hints elf but wins it for his frie7id. Apneas is 
 
 again generous beyond his promises. 
 
 So, this contest ended, pious ^Eneas goes to a grassy plain, which 
 hills with winding woody vales enclosed on every side ; in the midst of 
 which was the circus of a theatre ; the hero of many thousands went 
 in the centre of the company, and took his seat on a raised throne. 
 Here, if there were any who perchance would contend in the rapid 
 race, their hopes he stirs by rewards, and proposes prizes. So there 
 came from all sides to run Trojans mingled with Sicilians, Nisus 
 and Euryalus foremost, Euryalus distinguished by beauty, in the flower 
 of his youth ; Nisus famed for his loving affection for the boy ; then 
 followed next Diores, a prince of the noble race of Priam ; after whom 
 came S alius and Patron together ; whereof one was an Acarnanian, 
 the other of Arcadian blood, of the people of Tegea ; next appeared 
 two Sicilian youths, Helymus and Panopes, trained in the forests, the 
 attendants of old Acestes ; many besides, whose fame is buried in 
 obscurity. Then, in the midst of them, ^Eneas thus spake: "Hear 
 my words with goodwill, and gladly give them heed. Not a man of 
 this list shall depart without a gift from me ; to each will I present two 
 Cretan arrows with points of polished steel, and an axe to carry, 
 whose figures are of silver. To all alike there shall be this same reward : 
 the three first shall receive prizes, and have their temples bound with 
 wreaths of grey olive. Let the first winner receive a horse adorned 
 with trappings ; the second an Amazonian quiver full of Thracian arrows, 
 round which is twined a belt of broad gold, and a clasp fastens it with 
 neatly-shaped jewel ; the third must go away contented with a Grecian 
 helmet." So he spoke ; they choose their places ; and when they hear 
 the signal, in an instant they scour the course, and leave the starting- 
 point behind: they pour forth like storm-clouds, at the same moment 
 they mark the goal with their eyes. Foremost takes the lead, and far 
 ahead of ail the runners Nisus springs forward, swifter than the winds 
 or winged thunderbolt. Next to him, but next with a long interval, 
 follows Salius ; then a space is left between, and third runs Euryalus ; 
 and Euryalus is followed by Helymus ; and then close to Helymus lo, 
 Diores flies along, and with his foot almost treads on the heel of Hely- 
 mus, pressing on his shoulder, and w T ere there but more of the course 
 left, he would shoot forward and pass him, or leave the contest unde- 
 cided. And now they were nigh to the- end of the course, and exhausted 
 drew close to the winning point, when in the slippery blood down falls 
 Nisus, unlucky wight; for it so happened some steers had been slain, 
 and the blood poured forth had drenched the ground and green grass. 
 Here the youth, all but a triumphant winner, could not steady his steps, 
 but stumbled on the ground which he pressed, and forward he fell 
 
V. 382.] THE jENEID. 149 
 
 just in the filthy slime, and in the blood of the victims. Yet he forgot 
 not Euryalus, he remembered the love he bore him. For he put himself 
 in the way of Salius, as he rose amid the slippery ground ; and Salius tum- 
 bled and lay in the thickened sand. Forward springs Euryalus, a winner 
 by his friend's aid, and holds the foremost place, and flies along amidst 
 the applause and clamour that befriends him. Next follows Helymus, 
 and then Diores, who now wins the third prize. Hereupon the whole 
 assembly of the great theatre, and the presence of the elders in the 
 front row, is filled with the noisy clamours of Salius ; the prize was 
 wrested from him by a trick, he demands that it be restored. The 
 feeling of all supports Euryalus, and his tears that become him well, 
 and merit that shews more pleasantly in a fair form. Diores backs 
 him, shouting with loud voice : for he has gained a prize, and in vain 
 has attained the third reward, if the first gift is restored to Salius. 
 Then said father ^Eneas : " Your rights remain unchanged to you, 
 my lads, and the order of the prizes is altered for no one ; but I may 
 be allowed to shew my pity for the bad luck of my friend who is free 
 from fault." So speaking, to Salius he gives the huge hide of an 
 African lion ponderous with shaggy hair, and paws o'erlaid with gold. 
 Then said Nisus : " If such prizes are given to the vanquished, and 
 such pity to the fallen, what gifts will you give equal to the merits 
 of Nisus ? due to my deserts is the first prize, but the same unkind 
 fate baffled myself and Salius." And as he spake, he shewed his face 
 and limbs disfigured with the wet slime. The good father laughed 
 at him, and bid them bring forth a shield, the workmanship of Didy- 
 maon, taken down from the holy door of Neptune's temple, a spoil of the 
 Greeks. With this noble gift he honours the excellent youth. 
 362 — 425. The third co?ztest, the boxiiig match. Dares plays the brag- 
 gart. Entellus, though old in years, encouraged by Acestes, takes 
 up the challenge. 
 Next when the race was ended, and he had bestowed all the gifts, 
 "Now," says he, " if anyone has courage and a ready spirit in his breast, 
 let him step forth, and put up his arms with his hands bound with 
 the gauntlet." So he speaks, and proposes two prizes for the fight ; 
 for the conqueror a steer with horns gilded, and wreathed with fillets ; 
 a sword and noble helmet to console the conquered. Without delay, 
 forthwith Dares shews his face, a man of huge strength, and rises amidst 
 the loud applause of the crowd : he was the only man who used to 
 contend against Paris. He too at the grave, where lies mighty Hector, 
 smote the conqueror Butes of gigantic size, who coming forward 
 vaunted himself of the race of Amycus of Bebrycia; but Dares stretched 
 him in the agonies of death on the yellow sand. Such was Dares, 
 who first raised his towering head for the fight, displaying his broad 
 shoulders, tossing his arms alternately forward, striking the air with 
 blows. A champion is sought to meet him ; but no one out of all 
 that crowd dares to encounter the man, or to bind the cestus on his 
 hands. So then Dares in high spirits, imagining that all kept aloof 
 from the contest for the prize, stood before yEneas, and without further 
 delay he there with his left hand held the bull by the horn, and thus 
 
15° VIRGIL. [V. 383— 
 
 he speaks : " Goddess born, if no one dares to venture on the fight, 
 what end is there to standing here ? how long am I to be kept dangling 
 here? Order the gift to be brought forth." At the same time all 
 the Trojans shouted applause, and bade that the promised prize be given 
 to the man. Hereupon Acestes severely chid Entellus, who chanced 
 to be sitting next to him on the bank of green sward : " Entellus, 
 in days of old you were the bravest of heroes, but 'tis bootless now, 
 if thou art so tame as to allow such a glorious prize to be carried off 
 without a contest? where is now the god who trained you, your master, 
 Eryx, of whom you have boasted oft to us in vain? where now your 
 fame spread through all Sicily, and those spoils that are hanging in 
 your halls?" He in answer said: "It is not my love of fame and 
 glory that is gone, driven away by terror ; but rather that my blood is 
 chilled and dulled by the deadening power of age, and my strength 
 is past its prime and is lifeless in my limbs. If I had but the youth I 
 had in days of yore, that youth in which that braggart fellow exults, 
 if I had but that, I should not have waited for a prize or that fine 
 steer, to enter the lists ; indeed the gifts I nothing reck." He spake, 
 and straightway threw into the ring a pair of gauntlets of gigantic 
 weight ; in these was brave Eryx wont to bear his hands to the fight, 
 and bind upon his arms the tough hide. The minds of all were thereat 
 amazed ; for in those gauntlets the huge hides of seven bulls were 
 stiff with lead and iron stitched in. Above all others Dares himself is 
 amazed, he draws back and declines the fight ; and the noble son of 
 Anchises tries their weight and turns in his hand the huge twisted 
 thongs of the gloves. Then the old man uttered these words from 
 his breast : " What, if anyone here had seen the cestus with which 
 Hercules himself was armed, and had witnessed the fatal battle on 
 this very shore ? These were the arms which your brother Eryx wore 
 of old : you may see even now the stains from the blood and scat- 
 tered brain : in these he stood up against mighty Hercules ; to use 
 these was I trained, while a more generous blood supplied me with 
 strength, before envious old age had sprinkled both my temples with 
 grey hairs. But if Dares of Troy declines to use these our arms, and 
 such be the judgment of pious ^Eneas, and Acestes, who urges me to 
 this contest, approves^ of it, let us make the fight fair : for your sake 
 I waive the gauntlets of Eryx, lay aside your fear, and do you take off 
 your Trojan cestus." He spake, and from his shoulders threw back his 
 double cloak, and stripped the huge joints of his limbs, his huge long 
 and brawny arms, and took his stand a giant in the midst of the arena. 
 Then the father of his people, the son of Anchises, brought forth gauntlets 
 of equal size, and bound the hands of both with fairly matched gloves. 
 426 — 484. The combat. Entellus proves victorious. JEueas gives piizes 
 
 to both the boxers. 
 Straightway either combatant took his stand rising on tiptoe un- 
 daunted, lifting his arms upwards into the air. Standing at their height, 
 they draw their heads far backwards to escape the blows, and mingle 
 hands with hands, and provoke the fight ; the one was the better 
 man in quickness of foot, and relied on his youth, the other strong 
 
V. 484.] THE ^ENEID. 151 
 
 in limbs and giant size : but his stiff knees tremble and totter, and 
 a painful panting breath convulses his sides. Many are the fruitless 
 blows which the combatants aim at each other, many echo on their 
 hollow sides, or sound loudly on their chests ; often do their hands 
 play round the ears and temples, their cheeks rattle under the heavy 
 thumps. Heavily stands Entellus, and steady with one single effort 
 just eludes the blows, only by moving his body, and by the quickness 
 of his eye. But Dares is like one who attacks a lofty city with engines 
 of war, or in arms beleaguers a fort on the mountain, and tries this 
 and that approach, and skilfully surveys all the ground and presses 
 the place hard with varied assaults, but all in vain. Entellus rises 
 to strike a blow, and shews his right hand, and lifts it on high ; the 
 other foresaw the descending stroke, and slipped aside, and with active 
 body instantly withdrew. Entellus wasted his strength on the air, and 
 untouched by blow, of himself, with heavy frame fell heavily at once to the 
 earth with huge weight, as oft a hollow pine torn from its roots falls 
 suddenly either on Erymanthus, or on lofty Ida. Then rise with zeal 
 for their champion both the Trojans and men of Sicily : the shouts rise 
 to the sky ; first up runs Acestes ; the old prince pities his old friend, 
 and raises him from the ground. The hero, not dispirited nor daunted by 
 his fall, with fresh vigour returns to the fight ; passion kindles his 
 strength, shame and the consciousness of merit give fire to his force ; 
 and furiously he drives Dares headlong o'er all the plain ; redoubling 
 his blows with either hand in turns. Delay there was none ; no respite ; 
 as thick the strokes as the hailstones, when a storm rattles on the 
 roofs ; even so, with blow close upon blow, did the hero ever with both 
 his hands batter and pound Dares. Then father ^Eneas would not 
 suffer his fury to go further, and forbad Entellus to rage in the fierce- 
 ness of his wrath, and put an end to the fight, and rescued weary 
 Dares, and thus speaks : " Unhappy man ! How could such mad- 
 ness possess your soul ? Do you not feel your strength ill-matched, 
 and heaven opposed? So yield to God." He spoke, and with his word 
 separated the combatants. His faithful comrades bear to the ships 
 Dares, as his weak limbs shake, and as he tosses his head on either side, 
 and vomits from his mouth clotted gore and teeth mingled with the 
 blood : when called, they receive the sword and helmet ; the prize 
 and bull they leave with Entellus. Then the conqueror, with spirits 
 high overflowing, proud of the bull, said thus : " O goddess born, 
 and ye Trojans, learn, what strength I had in my frame when young, 
 and from what a death ye save and rescue Dares." He spoke, and 
 stood confrouting the bull, which stood there, the prize of the fight ; 
 then drew back his hand, and directed the hard cestus just between 
 the horns, rising to the blow, and dashed the glove on the bones, 
 and smashed the brains. Laid low, lifeless, quivering, falls on the 
 ground the ox. He o'er the body utters these words: "This is a 
 better life that I offer to thee, Eryx, as a substitute for Dares : here 
 victorious I lay aside my cestus and my art." 
 
 485 — 544. The fourth contest, the trial of archery. A dove is fastened to 
 a high mast. The first archer hits the mast, the second cleaves the 
 
I5 2 VIRGIL. [V. 485— 
 
 string, the third shoots the bird when free in the air. The arrow of 
 Acestes catches fire in the sky, an omen of future events. 
 This done, straightway ./Eneas invites any who may be willing to 
 contend with swift arrows, and offers prizes ; and with his own stalwart 
 hand raises a mast from the galley of Sergestus, and fastens on high to 
 the lofty pole a fleet dove with a cord tied round it, as the mark for their 
 arrows' point. The archers flock together ; then a brazen helmet receives 
 the lots thrown into it; and first before all comes forth the turn of Hip- 
 pocoon, son of Hyrtacus ; his backers applaud ; next comes the name of 
 Mnestheus, he who just now was victor in the race of ships, Mnestheus 
 crowned with wreath of green olive ; third was Eurytion, your brother, 
 O glorious Pandarus, who once when commanded to disturb the treaty 
 did first shoot your arrow into the Grecian host. Acestes' name re- 
 mained last at the bottom of the casque ; Acestes ventured, though old, 
 to essay young men's work. Then did the archers with stalwart strength 
 bend their curved bows, each as he best could, and draw the arrows from 
 their quivers ; and first through the sky from the twanging string did the 
 arrow of the youthful son of Hyrtacus cleave its way, whizzing through the 
 light air ; on it flies ; it is fixed in the wood of the confronting mast. 
 The mast shook thereat, and the terrified bird fluttered her wings, 
 while all around sounded with loud applause. Next keen Mnestheus took 
 his stand, and drew his bow, and aimed high, then at the same moment 
 directed eye and arrow; and yet the unlucky archer failed to hit the 
 bird itself with his arrow ; he cut the knot and linen bands, which fast- 
 ened the foot of the bird suspended from the lofty mast : the dove fled 
 speeding towards the air and dark clouds. Then quickly did Eurytion, 
 for from the first he had his bow ready, and his arrow on the string; call 
 upon his brother to hear his vows; and he takes his view of the dove 
 which was now rejoicing in the open firmament, and as it was flapping its 
 wings he pierces it beneath the dark cloud. Down it falls lifeless, and 
 leaves its spirit amid the stars of heaven, and, as it descends, brings with 
 it the arrow fixed in its body. Acestes alone was left, and he had lost the 
 prize ; yet he shot his shaft into the air aloft, for the father of the people 
 displayed at once his skill and twanging bow. Thereupon a sudden 
 prodigy appears, destined to prove a mighty presage; a great result 
 shewed its truth, and seers alarmed the world, as they foretold that the 
 omen pointed to a distant time. For as the reed flew, it caught fire in 
 watery clouds, and marked its course by flames, and, as it consumed, van- 
 ished into thin air; so often shooting stars fall from the heaven, and as 
 they fly trail behind them their length of hair. Amazed were Sicilians 
 and Trojans, and doubtful in their minds, and prayed to the heavenly 
 Powers ; nor did great ^Eneas refuse the omen, but embraced Acestes, 
 who was glad at the sight, and loads him with noble gifts, and speaks 
 thus : " Accept these presents, my father ; for the great king of Olympus 
 shews by these auspices his will that you should receive a special reward. 
 You shall have the gift which once belonged to my aged sire himself, 
 a goblet graven with figures ; Cisseus of Thrace once gave it to my father 
 Anchises, a noble gift, that he should receive it as the memorial and 
 pledge of his affection." Thus he spake, and binds his temples with a 
 
V. 59 T.] 
 
 THE MNEID. 
 
 *53 
 
 wreath of green bay, and proclaims Acestes as first victor above all the 
 rest. N or did good Eurytion envy him for the prize by which he was 
 preferred, though Eurytion alone had brought the dove down from the 
 height of heaven. With the next gifts he is honoured who cut the line, 
 with the last he who hit the mast w T ith the flying arrow. 
 545—603. The game of Troy. Augustus loved this game. The evolu- 
 tions of the Trojan boys are like tlie intricacies of the Labyrinth, or the 
 gambols of dolphins. So end the games. 
 
 Hut father ^Eneas, the games not being yet ended, summons the son 
 of Epytus, the guardian and companion of the boy lulus, and thus speaks 
 into his trusty ear : "Go quickly/' he says, "and say to Ascanius, that if he 
 has his boyish troop ready with him, and has arranged the manoeuvres of 
 his horses, he should lead forth his companies in honour of his grand- 
 father, and display himself in arms." He himself commands that all the 
 people who had poured into the long circus withdraw, and leave the 
 plain open. Forth ride the boys, and in a line before the presence of 
 their sires shine on their curbed steeds ; as they pass along, all the youth 
 of Sicily and Troy admire and applaud. All have their hair closely 
 bound in due form with a wreath of trimmed leaves; each bears two 
 darts of cornel wood tipped with iron shaft ; some on their shoulders wear 
 polished quivers ; on the upper part of their breast there passes o'er the 
 neck a pliant necklace of twisted rings of gold. There are three troops 
 of riders, and each company has a captain riding ; each captain is fol- 
 lowed by twelve boys, who glitter in the divided band, under leaders 
 of equal age. The first troop of boys in high spirits was led by a little 
 Priam bearing the name of his grandsire; he was your noble son, Polites, 
 destined to give a new race to Italy; he rides on a Thracian steed, 
 piebald with white spots; the pasterns of its forefeet were white, white 
 was the forehead it shewed when it pranced on high. The second was 
 Atys, whence the Latins of the Attian house drew their descent; a little 
 boy was Atys, loved in his boyhood by the boy lulus. The third was lulus, 
 the fairest of all in form; he rode on a Sidonian steed; beauteous Dido 
 gave the horse as a memorial and pledge of her affection. The rest of the 
 youth are borne on Sicilian steeds, the gift of old Acestes. The Trojans wel- 
 come with applause the youths, whose hearts flutter with excitement ; with 
 joy they gaze on them, and recognize in them the likeness of their ances- 
 tors. When the boys had ridden in high spirits round the whole circuit 
 of the spectators before the eyes of their relations, then with a shout the 
 son of Epytus gave the expected signal, cracking his whip. They rode 
 about in equal divisions, and broke up into three parts, separating their 
 troops, and, when summoned back again, they wheeled round and charged 
 with lances levelled in rest. Then other courses backwards and forwards 
 do they begin, facing one another with a space between, and intertwined 
 circle after circle, whilst they wage in arms the likeness of battle ; and 
 sometimes they expose their backs in flight, sometimes they turn their 
 darts in a charge, or march together in peaceful line. As 'tis said in the 
 days of old, the Labyrinth in lofty Crete had a path woven with dark walls, 
 and a puzzling bower full of doubt with a thousand zigzag ways, where 
 a maze, hard to discover and hard to retrace, confused the marks set by 
 
154 VIRGIL. [V. 592— 
 
 him that would trace it. So the sons of the Trojans at a gallop interlace 
 their courses, and weave in sport a maze of flight and combat ; like dol- 
 phins, who, as they swim through the watery main, cleave the Carpathian 
 or Libyan sea, and play through the waves. This manner of exercise 
 and these games Ascanius first repeated, whilst girding with walls Alba 
 Longa, and taught the Prisci Latini to celebrate them, even as he him- 
 self when a boy, and the Trojan youth with him, had learnt them; the 
 Albans taught them to their children; from them in succession mighty 
 Rome received the games, and retained the ancestral custom ; and even 
 now the game is called Troy, and the boys are called the Trojan troop. 
 Thus far were the sports celebrated in honour of the holy sire. 
 604 — 699. But sorrow follows mirth. Juno sends down Iris, who, taking 
 a human form, fills the Trojan matrons with a weariness of their 
 e?idless voy agings. They set fire to the ships. Apneas hastens to 
 the shore. In answer to the fti'ayer which he offers in his extre77iity 
 Jove sends rain. The fleet is saved. 
 But here first Fortune changed, and was fickle to her faith. Whilst 
 they pay these annual rites to the tomb by various games, Juno, 
 daughter of Saturn, sent Iris from heaven to the Trojan fleet, breath- 
 ing winds to help her flight ; many were Juno's plans, and she had 
 not yet glutted her ancient hate. The messenger, the maiden goddess, 
 hastened on her way along a rainbow of a thousand colours ; seen by no 
 man down she speeds swiftly along her path. At once she sees the great 
 throng, and surveys the shore, and sees the harbour lonely, and the 
 fleet unguarded. But far away on the lonely beach the Trojan women 
 apart were weeping for the loss of Anchises, and all together were 
 ever gazing on the main, and still they wept. " Alas ! what seas, and 
 how much ocean still remains for us weary women!" So did they all 
 say. What they pray for is a home ; they are tired of toiling o'er the 
 deep. So Iris, not unskilled in mischief, throws herself into the midst, 
 and lays aside the face and robe of a goddess ; she becomes like Beroe 
 the aged wife of Doryclus of Tmarus ; for she was once of famous race, 
 and had children now no more ; thus transformed, the goddess mingles 
 with the Trojan matrons. " O wretched women," she said, "whom Grecian 
 hands did not drag to death by the sword beneath your country's walls ! 
 Unhappy race, for what destruction does fortune reserve you? The 
 seventh summer is now in its fall since the destruction of Troy, whilst 
 we are borne o'er seas, o'er all lands, o'er many an inhospitable rock, 
 measuring the stars in our course, whilst o'er the mighty main we 
 pursue Italy that ever flies from us, and are tossed by the billows. 
 Here are the territories of Eryx your prince's brother, here is Acestes 
 for a host ; who forbids our founding walls, and giving our citizens a 
 town? O my country, and ye Penates in vain rescued from the foe, 
 will no walls ever be called Trojan again? shall I see nowhere a new 
 Xanthus and Simois like the rivers Hector once loved? Come then, 
 and with me burn these unlucky ships. For during my sleep the 
 phantom of the prophetess Cassandra seemed to put in my hand 
 burning torches : said she, ' Here look for Troy, here is a home for 
 you.' The time is come to act ; delay not to obey such clear portents ; 
 
V. 6 9 o.] 
 
 THE jENEID. 
 
 155 
 
 see here are four altars of Neptune ; the god himself supplies us 
 with brands and courage to use them." She spake, and first of all with 
 fury seized the burning torch to destroy the ships, and lifted her hand 
 on high, and with an effort brandished the flame, and hurled the brand. 
 Inflamed are the minds and amazed the hearts of the daughters of 
 Jlium. Here one, of all the company the eldest, Pyrgo by name, nurse 
 to many princes, sons of Priam, thus spoke : " Matrons, this is no Beroe 
 before us, this is no Trojan wife of Doryclus : mark the proofs of a 
 beauty more than human, mark her glowing eyes ; see how she breathes, 
 what a countenance, what tones of voice she has, what a gait as she 
 walks. I myself at the beginning of the rites parted from Beroe, and 
 left her sick, grieving that she alone was absent from the pious duty, 
 and could not pay to Anchises due offerings." So she spake. But the 
 matrons, perplexed at first with eyes of evil import gazed at the ships, 
 and were divided in doubt between their fond love of the land where 
 they were safe, and the kingdom whither they were called by Hea- 
 ven's will : when suddenly the goddess rose through the sky with 
 poised wings, and cleft her way on the wide arch of a rainbow. 
 Then indeed amazed at the portents, and driven by frenzy, they raise 
 an universal cry, and bring the fire from the hearths in the houses ; 
 while some rob the altars, and throw together leaves and twigs and 
 brands. As a horse speeding with slack reins, so rages Vulcan o'er the 
 benches and the oars and the painted sterns of fir. Eumelus bears 
 the news to the tomb of Anchises and the seats of the theatre, that 
 the ships are set on fire ; they look round, and with their own eyes 
 see the dark ashes rise in a cloud. And foremost of all Ascanius, just 
 as he was leading the evolutions of the riders, even then on his steed 
 keenly rides towards the fleet now in confusion ; his frightened guard- 
 ians could not stop him. "What," cried he, "is this strange mad- 
 ness in you ? what now, what is your purpose, alas ! my wretched 
 countrywomen ? no hostile ships, no unfriendly fleet you burn, you burn 
 your own hopes. Look at me, I am your own Ascanius." He took off 
 and threw down his helmet before him, which he wore when he was 
 waging in sport the mimic war. Thither hastens yEneas too, and the 
 Trojan bands together. But the matrons fly scattered along the she re 
 hither and thither, and steal away to the woods or any caverns they can 
 find ; they repent of their attempt, and hate the light, and their heart 
 is changed, and they know their friends again, and the spirit of Juno 
 is cast forth from their souls. But not on that account did the flames 
 of the conflagration lay aside their untamed fury : beneath the damp oak 
 smoulders the tow, breathing forth a slow column of smoke, and the fire, 
 spreading gradually, devours the keels, and destruction makes its way 
 down the whole hull of the ships : in vain is the strength of the heroes, 
 and the streams of water poured on the flames. Then pious ^Eneas 
 tore his garment from his shoulders, and called on the gods for help, 
 and lifted up his hands: "'Almighty Jove, if thou dost not yet utteny 
 hate all the Trojans to a man, if the mercy thou usedst to shew of old 
 still regards human woe, grant, Father, that the fleet may escape from 
 the flames even now, and rescue the slender hopes of Troy from doom : 
 
I5 6 VIRGIL, [V. 69 r~ 
 
 or do thou, (which alone is left for me,) with the blow of thy thunder- 
 bolt strike me down to death, if such are my deserts, and here destroy 
 me with thy own right hand." Hardly has he uttered this prayer, 
 when a shower is poured forth, and a murky storm rages unrestrained, 
 and with the thunder the steep hills tremble, and the level plains ; 
 down rushes from the whole sky a tempestuous deluge, pitchy black 
 with rain and cloudy south-winds ; the water from the sky fills the 
 ships ; the half-burnt planks of oak are drenched ; until all the fire 
 is put out, and all the ships, except four, are saved from destruction. • 
 700 — 718. Nautes counsels JEneas to leave the old and fainthearted in 
 
 Sicily. 
 
 But father ^Eneas, shocked at the sad misfortune, hither and thither in" 
 his breast ever ponders mighty shifting cares ; should he settle down in 
 Sicilian fields and forget his destiny, or should he strive to reach Italian 
 coasts. Then aged Nautes, a man whom above all others Tritonian 
 Pallas had taught, and made him renowned for deep lore — such were the 
 answers Pallas oft gave him, that he might know what the mighty wrath 
 of heaven portended, or what the fated chain of events required. And so 
 he then comforted ^Eneas with these words, and thus began : " Goddess 
 born, whither the fates draw us on, or draw us back, thither let us follow ; 
 come what may, by bearing we can vanquish all our fate. You have a 
 friend in Trojan Acestes of the race of the gods ; take him as a partner in 
 your counsels, a willing sharer in your cares ; to him entrust those who 
 are too numerous, now you have lost these ships, and those who are tired 
 out by your great enterprise, and your fortunes ; pick out the aged, and 
 matrons weary of the sea, and whoever you have with you a feeble and 
 timorous throng ; let them find their town in this land, for they are now ex- 
 hausted. They will call the city Acesta by a name derived from your friend." 
 719 — 745. The spirit of his father appears in a vision of the night, and 
 
 gives the same advice, and further tells him to come and see him in 
 
 Ely shim. 
 
 His spirit was stirred by this counsel of his old friend, and then indeed 
 is his mind distracted by every care. And dark night had mounted in its 
 car to the summit of the heaven ; when it seemed to him that from above 
 glided down the phantom of his parent Anchises, and suddenly uttered 
 these words : " My son, once dearer to me than life, so long as life 
 remained, my son, persecuted by the fates of Ilium, by Jove's command 
 I come hither; Jove from thy fleet drove the fire, and at last looks on 
 you with pity from the height of heaven. Obey the advice, for it is very 
 good, which old Nautes now gives ; the chosen youth, hearts of courage, 
 take with you to Italy. A hardy race, roughly trained, has to be subdued 
 by you in Latium. Yet first approach the nether home of Dis, and 
 through deep Avernus go to meet me, my son. For, believe me, impious 
 Tartarus holds not me, nor the sad shades of death, but I dwell in Ely- 
 sium amid the pleasant companies of the good. Hither will guide you 
 the holy Sibyl, when you have shed the blood of many black cattle. 
 Then shall you learn all your line, and your destined city. And now, 
 farewell ; damp night rolls onwards in her central course ; and soon will 
 the cruel rising sun breathe on me with his panting steeds." He spake, 
 
V. 785.] THE ^ENEID. 
 
 L :>/ 
 
 and vanished like smoke into the thin air. .^Eneas said : "Whither ' 
 rushest thou so soon? Whither dost thou hurry? From whom fleest thou? 
 or who tears thee from my embrace?" He spake, and awakens the dying 
 embers and the slumbering fire, and humbly worships the Lar of Per- 
 gamus, and the inmost shrine of ancient Vesta, with holy cake of meal, 
 and censer full of frankincense. 
 
 746 — 761. Sergesta is founded; a temple to Venus is built 071 Eryx. 
 
 Straightway he sends for his comrades ; and specially for Acestes, and 
 tells them what is Jove's command, and the counsel of his dear father, and 
 what is now his own settled purpose. They quickly close with his plan ; 
 nor does Acestes decline to do what he enjoins. They enrol the matrons 
 in the new town, and part with those who wish to stay behind, souls that 
 have no craving for high renown. They themselves repair their benches, 
 and replace the oaken planks of the ships, which the flames had half 
 consumed; they make for their vessels new oars and cordage; a scanty 
 band, but hearts of valour vigorous in war. Meanwhile yEneas marks 
 the city's walls with a plough, and apportions the houses by lot ; he bids 
 this be a second Ilium, and these places a new Troy. Trojan Acestes 
 delights in his kingdom, and solemnly inaugurates his forum, and gives 
 laws to his chosen senators. Then on the summit of mount Eryx a 
 sacred shrine, which seems near the stars, is founded to Venus of Idalia, 
 and a priest is appointed, and a holy grove of wide extent planted round 
 the tomb of Anchises. 
 
 762 — 778. The feelings of the matrons are changed. They sorrow when 
 
 ALneas sets sail. 
 
 And now all the people had feasted during nine days, and due offerings 
 paid on the altars ; the sleeping winds had laid the waves to rest, and the 
 wind blowing fresh invites them again to the deep. Loud is the lamen- 
 tation heard along the winding shore : they linger in mutual embraces 
 night and day. And now the very matrons, the very men, to whom the 
 face of the deep seemed so rough, and its very deity intolerable, are will- 
 ing to go, and bear every toil of voyage. Them good ^Eneas comforts 
 with friendly words, and with tears commends to his kinsman Acestes. 
 He next bids three bullocks to be sacrificed to Eryx, a lamb to the Tem- 
 pests, and that the cable of each ship be loosened in succession. He 
 himself with his temples bound with leaves of trimmed olive, standing 
 apart on the prow, holds in his hand a bowl, and casts the entrails into 
 the briny waves, and pours the flowing wine. A wind rising from the 
 stern speeds them on their way. With emulation his comrades lash the 
 sea, and sweep its surface. 
 779 — 824. Venus begs Neptune to give the fleet a safe passage. Neptune 
 
 promises safety 'to all but one. The sea is calm, and the god 
 attended by his retinue of Tritons and Nereids. 
 
 But Venus meanwhile distressed by care addresses Neptune, and utters 
 these complaints from her breast : "Juno's fierce wrath and unrelenting 
 heart force me, Neptune, to descend to the humblest prayers. For no 
 length of time, no piety can appease her, nor will she bend to Jove's com- 
 mand, or to the fates, and cease from troubling. Not content with utterly 
 destroying the city out of the very heart of the nation of Phrygia by her 
 
158 VIRGIL. [V. 786— 
 
 cruel hatred, nor with dragging it through every suffering, she still per- 
 secutes the remnant of Troy, the very ashes and bones of the ruined race. 
 Let her find out, if she can, good reasons for such fury. Thou thyself 
 canst bear me witness what a tumult she lately stirred up in the African 
 waters. She mingled every sea with the sky, in vain relying on the storm 
 of ^olus. The realm in which she thus dared to act was thine. So 
 wickedly she hath driven to frenzy the matrons of Troy, and foully burnt 
 the ships of the Trojans, and by the loss of the fleet has forced them to 
 leave comrades on a strange land. For the rest of the voyage I pray, per- 
 mit them to sail safely o'er the waves, permit them to reach Laurentian 
 Tiber, if my prayers are lawful, if those walls are granted by the fates." 
 
 Then the son of Saturn, the lord of the deep sea, thus spake : " There 
 is every right, Lady of Cythera, for thee to trust in my realm, from it thou 
 derivest thy race ; I deserve too thy faith. Often have I checked its fury, 
 and the mighty rage of sky and sea. Nor less on land, as I can call 
 Xanthus and Simois to witness, has been my care for thy son ^Eneas. 
 That day when Achilles pursuing the terrified bands of Troy dashed them 
 against the walls, and consigned to death many thousands, and the rivers 
 choked with corpses roared as w T ith grief, and Xanthus could not find his 
 way, and roll his stream out into the sea ; on that day ^Eneas met the 
 strong son of Peleus ; the odds of strength and gods were against thy 
 son ; but I rescued him in a hollow cloud, and that, though I wished to 
 level to the ground the walls of perjured Troy built by my own hands. 
 Now also the same purpose continues mine ; away with fear. Safe will 
 he reach the harbour of Avernus, as thou wishest. One only will there be, 
 whom he will lose in the flood and miss ; one life will be given as an atone- 
 ment for many." When with these words he had calmed the breast of 
 the goddess, and given her joy, the Father yokes his horses to his chariot 
 of gold, and puts in the mouth of his steeds the foaming bits, and with 
 his hands slackens all the reins. Lightly flies the god o'er the surface of 
 the level sea in his azure car. The waves subside, and beneath the 
 thundering axletree the swelling plain of the waters lies smooth, and the 
 stormy clouds fly from the firmament. Then the manifold forms of his 
 retinue are seen, huge monsters of the deep, and the ancient band of 
 Glaucus, and Palemon son of Ino, and the nimble Tritons, and all the 
 host of Phorcus ; the left side of the chariot is held by Thetis, and Melite, 
 and the maiden Panopea, and Nesase and Spio and Thalia and Cymodoce. 
 825 — 871 . The god of Sleep brings drowsiness over the eyes of the faith- 
 ful Palinurus. He falls into the sea. jEneas turns pilot hints elf 
 sorrowing for his lost comrade. 
 
 Here the mind of ^Eneas long anxious is thrilled by the soothing 
 vicissitudes of joy : he bids all the masts quickly to be raised, and on the 
 sailyards the sails to be stretched. All at once veered the sheet, and 
 loosened the bellying canvas to right, to left ; at once they all turn up and 
 down the tall ends of the sailyards ; favouring breezes bear the fleet along. 
 Foremost before them all Palinurus led the close line ; with an eye to him 
 the rest were bid to direct their course. And now damp night had just 
 reached the centre of its course in the heavens ; the sailors stretched on 
 their hard seats beneath the oars had relaxed their limbs in quiet repose ; 
 
VI. i ;.] THE jENEID. 159 
 
 when lightly from the stars of the sky glided down the god Sleep, and 
 parted the dusky air, and separated the shades of night, flying straight to 
 you, Palinurus ; to you he brought a fatal sleep, and yet you did not 
 deserve this: on the high stern the god took his seat, in' shape like 
 Phorbas, and uttered these words: "Palinurus, son of Iasus, the sea of 
 itself bears on the fleet ; steadily blow the breezes ; the hour is meant for 
 repose. Rest your head ; and let your weary eyes steal from toil. I myself 
 for a short time will do your duty for you." To whom Palinurus speaks, 
 scarcely raising his eyes: "Would you bid me not know the look and calm 
 waves of the tranquil sea? Would you have me believe in such a monster? 
 Why indeed should I trust .^Eneas to the treacherous gales, I who have 
 been so often deceived by the cheats of a serene sky?" So he said, and 
 holding fast and clinging to the helm, he never let go his hold, and kept 
 gazing up to the stars. When lo ! the god waves o'er his temples a bough 
 - drenched with Lethe's stream, and, as he lingered, relaxed his swimming 
 eyes. Hardly had the sudden slumber just unnerved his limbs, when 
 Somnus, leaning over, broke off part of the stern, and pushed helmsman 
 with his helm headlong into the waves ; in vain the pilot called often on 
 his comrades. The god flew as a bird soaring into thin air. But not the 
 less the fleet speeds safely on its course o'er the face of the sea, and 
 according to the promise of Neptune is borne securely on. And now, 
 driven onwards, it was just nearing the cliffs of the Sirens ; once they were 
 hard to pass, and on them bleached the bones of many men ; there hoarsely 
 roared the rocks resounding with the restless sea : when the father of his 
 people observed that his ship had lost its pilot, and floated uncertainly ; 
 and so with his own hands he guided it o'er the waves all night long, 
 while still he often groaned, for shocked was his soul at his friend's sad 
 fate: "Alas! too much did you believe the sky and tranquil deep; un- 
 buried will you, Palinurus, lie on an unknown coast." 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 1 — 33. JEneas lands in Italy at Ctimce, and goes to consult the Sibylline 
 
 oracle. Description of the sculpture on the doors of the temple of 
 
 Apollo. 
 
 So he speaks with tears, and gives his fleet the reins, and in time 
 glides in to the Eubcean shores of Cumae. Seaward they point the prows ; 
 then with biting tooth the anchor makes fast the ships, and the curving 
 keels fringe the beach. The throng of youths spring forth with ardour 
 on the strand of Italy; some search for the seeds of flame that lie hidden 
 in the veins of flint ; some scour the woods, the tangled haunts of wild 
 beasts, and shew the streams they have discovered. But pious ^neas 
 goes towards the citadel which high Apollo commands, and the distant 
 cell of the awful Sibyl, a vast cavern ; for her mighty mind and soul the 
 Delian seer inspires, and reveals the things that are to be. Presently 
 they enter the groves of Trivia, and her golden house. Daedalus, as tra- 
 dition tells, when fleeing from the realm of Minos, having dared on rapid 
 wings to trust himself to the sky, along the unwonted path floated on to 
 the cold North; and at last, poised in air, rested above the Chalcidian 
 
l6o VIRGIL. [VI. 18— 
 
 citadel. Restored to earth here first, he dedicated to thee, O Phoebus, 
 the oarage of his wings, and founded a mighty temple. On the panels of 
 the door is wrought the death of Androgeos ; next, the people of Cecrops, 
 bidden to pay as a yearly tribute (oh piteous doom !) the bodies of seven 
 of their sons : the urn is set ; the lots are drawn. On the opposite side 
 the land of Crete, rising out of the sea, forms the counterpart ; here is 
 portrayed the cruel passion for the bull, and the craft of Pasiphae's love, 
 and the mixed issue, and the Minotaur, the offspring of double shape, 
 the record of accursed wedlock ; here is described that famous bewildering 
 mansion, and the maze that cannot be disentangled: albeit Daedalus, 
 through pity for the queen's deep passion, himself made clear the puzzle 
 and windings of the house, guiding with a thread the darkened steps of 
 Theseus. You too, Icarus, would fill a large place in so great a master- 
 piece, did grief allow it. Twice he had essayed to work out in gold your 
 fall ; twice sank the father s hands. 
 
 33 — 55. The Sibyl arrives ', and bids JEneas to sacrifice^ aiid leads hi7n 
 into the temple. She feels the inspiratioji of the god. 
 And so they would have gone on to survey closely all things in succes- 
 sion, had not Achates, who had been sent on before, now arrived, and 
 with him the priestess of Phcebus and Trivia, Deiphobe the child of 
 Glaucus, who thus speaks to the prince: "This hour does not call for 
 sights like those ; now it were best to sacrifice seven bullocks of a herd 
 that never felt the yoke, and as many ewes duly chosen." When she had 
 thus addressed ^Eneas, (and his men delay not to perform the offering she 
 commands,) the priestess summons the Trojans into the lofty temple. 
 The vast side of the rock of Cumae is hewn out into a cavern, whither a 
 hundred broad approaches, a hundred doorways lead; from whence 
 spring as many cries, the responses of the Sibyl. They had reached the 
 entrance, when says the virgin : " It is the time to inquire your destinies ; 
 the god! behold, the god!" While thus she spoke before the portal, all 
 at once her look and her colour were changed, her locks became disor- 
 dered ; then her bosom heaves, and wildly swells her heart with frantic 
 rage ; and her stature seems larger, and her voice sounds not like a mor- 
 tal's ; for she is breathed upon by the spirit of the god, now closer to her. 
 "Do you delay to make your vows and prayers, Trojan ^Eneas?" she 
 says; "do you delay? For indeed the mighty mouths of the awe-struck 
 mansion will not unclose till then." So she spoke, and held her peace. 
 An icy shudder thrilled through the strong nerves of the Teucri, and their 
 prince pours out his prayer from the bottom of his heart. 
 
 5 6 — 97- The prayer of Apneas. The prophecy of the Sibyl. 
 "Phcebus, who didst ever pity the distressful struggles of Troy, who 
 didst point the Dardan shaft and hand of Paris against the body of ALa- 
 cides, so many seas that encompass mighty lands have I sailed into with 
 thee for my guide, and have reached the far remote Massylian tribes, and 
 the fields the Syrtes fringe ; now at last we grasp the shores of ever 
 retreating Italy ; thus far only may a Trojan fortune have followed us! It 
 is now meet for ye also to spare the people of Pergama, all ye gods and 
 goddesses, against whose pleasure Ilium stood, and the high renown of 
 Dardania. And thou, most holy prophetess, thou that foreseest coming 
 
VI. 120.] THE yENEID. 161 
 
 fate, grant me (I ask a kingdom that is but due to my destinies,) that in 
 Latium the Teucri may settle, and the wandering gods and persecuted 
 divinities of Troy. Then to Phoebus and Trivia I will set up a shrine of 
 massy marble, and ordain holydays in the name of Phoebus. Thee too a 
 solemn sanctuary awaits in our dominions ; for there I will deposit thy 
 oracles and fateful mysteries uttered for my people, and will consecrate 
 chosen ministers to thee, propitious Power. Only commit not thy re- 
 sponses to leaves, lest they fly away in disorder, the sport of rushing 
 winds; chant them thyself, I entreat thee." So he ended the words of his 
 mouth. But the prophetess, not yet tamed to the will of Phoebus, raves 
 furiously within her cave, striving to throw off from her bosom the mighty 
 god ; so much the more he strains her maddened mouth, curbing her wild 
 heart, and fashions her by his control. And now the hundred vast en- 
 trances of the mansion open of their own accord, and carry to the outer 
 air the response of the prophetess : " Hail, you that at last have finished 
 the dread dangers of the sea! But more grievous perils on land remain. 
 Into the realm of Lavinium the children of Dardanus shall come ; release 
 your bosom from this anxiety; but they shall also wish that they had never 
 come. Wars, horrid wars, I see, and Tiber foaming with torrents of 
 blood. You will not be without a Simois, or a Xanthus, or a Doric 
 camp ; a second Achilles is already provided for Latium, himself too god- 
 dess-born ; and Juno will nowhere be absent, but ever arrayed against the 
 Teucri ; whilst you, in your distress and need, what nations of Italy, or 
 what cities, will you not humbly supplicate? Again a stranger-bride, 
 again a foreign marriage, shall cause the Trojans such a world of woe. 
 Yield not you to your troubles, but march more boldly to meet them, in 
 the path your fortune shall permit you. Your first road to safety, though 
 you little think it, shall be opened to you from a Grecian city." 
 98 — 123. JEneas replies, a?id begs for the help of the Sibyl in his erraiid 
 
 to the shades. 
 In these words the Cumaean Sibyl from her shrine chants her awful 
 riddles, and makes the cave re-echo, shrouding truth in darkness ; such is 
 the curb Apollo shakes in her frantic mouth, and such the goad he works 
 within her breast. So soon as her frenzy is abated, and her raving lips 
 are hushed, thus begins the hero ^Eneas : " No form of trouble that arises, 
 O maiden, is to me strange or unlooked for ; all things I have foreknown, 
 and gone through already with my own heart. One thing I pray: since 
 here is said to be the door of the king of hell, and the gloomy pool where 
 Acheron overflows, may it be my fortune to pass into the sight and presence 
 of my dear father; teach thou the way, and unlock the sacred portal. He 
 it was whom I, through flames and a thousand pursuing spears, bore 
 away on these shoulders, and rescued from the midst of the foe: he, the 
 partner of my voyage, feeble though he was, dared with me to face all the 
 seas, and all the frowns of ocean and sky, beyond the strength and por- 
 tion of old age. He too it was, who with prayers used to enjoin upon me 
 humbly to address thee, and visit thy threshold. Both son and father 
 pity, propitious Power ; for thou canst do all things ; and it is not in name 
 only that Hecate has made thee mistress of the groves of Avernus. If 
 Orpheus could summon the spirit of his bride, strong in his Thracian lyre 
 
 VIR. 
 
 11 
 
1 62 VIRGIL. [VI. i2i— 
 
 and tuneful strings ; if Pollux ransomed his brother by dying for him in 
 turn, and so often goes and comes back along the path, — why should I 
 speak of mighty Theseus, why of Alcides? my descent also is from sove- 
 reign Jove." 
 124 — 155. The Sibyl instructs JEneas to find the golden bough, that will 
 
 be his safeguard in his journey. She tells him of the death of one of 
 
 his comrades. 
 In such form was he praying, and clasping the altar, when thus the 
 prophetess began to speak: u O you that are sprung from the blood of 
 gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent of Avernus ; night and 
 day lies open the door of gloomy Dis ; but to retrace your footsteps, and 
 safely reach the upper air, this is the task, this the struggle. But few, the 
 children of the gods, whom righteous Jove has loved, or their glowing 
 virtue has exalted to heaven, have had the power. All the tract that lies 
 between, forests possess, and Cocytus encircles, as it glides along with 
 dark meandering. But if your mind has such deep desire, so great a 
 passion, twice to float upon the Stygian flood, twice to view black Tar- 
 tarus, and it is your pleasure to throw yourself into the mad endeavour, 
 learn the duties you must first perform. There lurks in a shady tree a 
 bough, all golden both in leaf and pliant twig, an offering dedicated to 
 the Juno of hell; this all the grove conceals, and dim dells of shadow 
 shut it in. But no man is permitted to enter the hidden parts of the 
 earth, but he who has plucked from the tree its offspring with the golden 
 leaves. Fair Proserpine has ordained that this shall be brought to her, 
 her own peculiar offering : when the first bough is rent away, another all 
 of gold succeeds, and the branch breaks into foliage of a like metal. 
 Therefore search aloft with your eyes, and, when you have found it, duly 
 pluck it with your hand ; for it will of itself willingly and easily come 
 away, if destiny invite you ; otherwise, you will not be able by any force 
 to subdue it, nor to rend it away with the hard steel. Besides, there is 
 the body of your friend lying lifeless (alas, you know it not), and polluting 
 with death all the fleet ; while you are inquiring for oracles, and lingering 
 in our portal. First commit him to his place of rest, and lay him in the 
 grave. Bring black victims ; let them be your first propitiatory offering. 
 So at last you will view the Stygian groves, and the realms to which the 
 living may not pass." She spoke, and closed her lips in silence. 
 156 — 178. The story of the death of Misenus. 
 ^Eneas goes on his way, with fixed gaze and sorrowful countenance, 
 leaving the cave, and with his own heart ponders the issues he cannot 
 see. With him journeys his faithful Achates, and paces on, possessed 
 with equal grief. Many things they discussed in various talk with one 
 another, who was the lifeless comrade, what the corpse to be buried, 
 that the prophetess spoke of: and so soon as they arrive, they see 
 Misenus stretched on the dry shore, cut off by an undeserved death, 
 Misenus, son of ^Eolus, whom no other man surpassed in mustering 
 warriors, and kindling the soul of battle with his note. He had been 
 mighty Hector's comrade ; by Hector's side he fought the battle, con- 
 spicuous by his clarion, and his spear as well. After victorious Achilles 
 had stripped the chieftain of life, the valiant hero had made himself the 
 
VI. 222.] THE MNEID. 163 
 
 companion of Dardan y£neas, following no lower fortune. But at that 
 time, while he makes the surface of the sea ring with his hollow shell 
 and with his note challenges the gods to contest, Triton in jealousy (if 
 the tale deserve belief,) surprised the warrior, and plunged him in the 
 foaming waves amid the rocks. Therefore all were wailing around with 
 loud cries, the pious ^Eneas above the rest. Then without delay they 
 hasten to perform the bidding of the Sibyl, and work with all their power 
 to pile up with trunks of trees the altar of the dead, and to raise it high 
 towards heaven. 
 
 179 — 211. They go into the forest to gather wood for the funeral pile. 
 There JEneas sees and plucks the golden bough. 
 
 They go into an ancient wood, the lofty coverts of the wild beasts ; 
 down comes the pitch-pine, the ilex resounds beneath the stroke of the 
 hatchet, and beams of ash and oak easy to cleave are split with wedges ; 
 they roll in from the hills mighty mountain ashes. ^Eneas also, in the 
 midst of a work so busy, leads the way by inciting his comrades, and 
 girds on weapons like their own. And thus he muses with his own sad 
 heart, gazing on the boundless forest, and prays in these words: "O that 
 that golden bough would now reveal itself to us in this great wood ! For 
 the prophetess told all your story, alas, too truly, Misenus." Scarce had 
 he so spoken, when it chanced a pair of doves came flying through the 
 sky, close beneath the eyes of the warrior, and settled on the green turf. 
 Then the great hero recognises his mother's birds, and joyfully makes 
 his prayer : " Be ye my guides, I beseech, wherever my path may lie ; 
 and speed straight your flight into the groves, where the wealthy bough 
 o'ershadows the fruitful soil ; and do thou, I pray, fail not my doubtful 
 fortunes, my goddess-mother." So he spoke, and stayed his steps, 
 observing what omens they bring, w r hither they proceed to take their 
 flight. They, as they feed, advance on the wing only so far as the eye 
 of one who follows them can keep within its vision. Afterwards, when 
 they arrive at the jaws of noisome Avernus, they fleetly rise upward, and 
 gliding through the clear air, both together settle in the wished- for spot 
 on the top of the tree, whence through the boughs the gleam of gold 
 flashed forth distinct. As in the woods amid the wintry cold with strange 
 foliage the misletoe is wont to bloom, which its own tree does not bear, 
 and to encircle with its yellow shoots the rounded trunks ; such was the 
 look of the leafy gold in the dark ilex ; so the foil crackled beneath the 
 gentle breeze. At once yEneas grasps and greedily breaks away the cling- 
 ing bough, and bears it within the dwelling of the prophetic Sibyl. 
 2 1 2 — 235. The funeral and monument of Miscnus. 
 
 And not the less the Trojans meanwhile wept for Misenus on the shore, 
 and brought the last gifts to the unthankful ashes. First they build up 
 a huge pile, rich with fagots of pine and planks of oak, the sides of which 
 they intertwine with gloomy foliage, and set up in front funereal cypresses, 
 and dress it on the top with glittering arms. Some quickly bring warm 
 water, and caldrons bubbling with heat, and wash and anoint the body of 
 the cold dead. A mournful cry is raised. Then they lay out upon the 
 couch the limbs o'er which they have duly wept, and cast above purple 
 robes, his well-known garments. Some raised on their shoulders the great 
 
164 VIRGIL. [VI. 223- 
 
 bier, and, according to the rite of their forefathers, held with averted eyes 
 the torch they applied. The heaped offerings of incense burn ; so do 
 the meat-offerings, and the bowls of streaming oil. When the ashes 
 had sunk, and the flame died out, they washed with wine the remains 
 and thirsty embers, and Corynseus covered with a brazen urn the gathered 
 bones. He too thrice bore to his comrades all around clear water, 
 sprinkling them with light dew from the branch of a fruitful olive, and 
 purified the warriors, and spoke the farewell words. Next pious tineas 
 places over him a tomb of ponderous mass, and the tools of the hero's 
 trade, both oar and trumpet, beneath a towering hill, which now after 
 him is called Misenus, and keeps the name throughout the ages for ever. 
 236 — 263. sE?teas offers sacrifice at the entrance of the cave tfiat leads 
 
 to hell. Encouraged by supernatural signs, he and the Sibyl begin 
 
 the descent. 
 When these duties are performed, he carries out with haste the instruc- 
 tions of the Sibyl. There was a cavern, deep and huge with its vast 
 mouth, craggy, sheltered by its black lake and forest gloom, o'er which 
 no birds might speed along unharmed ; such an exhalation, pouring from 
 its black jaws, rose to the vault of heaven ; wherefore the Greeks named 
 the spot Avernus. Here the priestess first sets for sacrifice four oxen with 
 sable backs, and slowly pours the wine upon the brow, and plucking the 
 topmost bristles just between the horns, lays them upon the hallowed 
 fires, to be the first offering ; calling aloud on Hecate, a queen in heaven 
 and in hell. Others apply the knife to the throat and catch in basins the 
 w T arm blood. ^Eneas himself slays with the sword a ewe lamb of black 
 fleece to the mother of the Furies, and her mighty sister ; and to thee, 
 
 Proserpine, a barren cow. Then to the Stygian monarch he inaugurates 
 an altar by night, and lays upon the flames whole carcases of bulls, pour- 
 ing rich olive oil over the burning entrails. But lo, just before the earliest 
 rays of the rising sun appeared, the ground began to rumble beneath 
 their feet, and the woody ridges to be stirred, as the goddess drew nearer 
 and nearer. ''Away, I pray you, away, ye uninitiated," the prophetess 
 exclaims aloud, "and withdraw from all the grove ; and do you enter on 
 the path, and quickly draw your sword from its sheath ; now you need 
 courage, ^Eneas, now resolve of soul." So much she spoke, and full of 
 frenzy darted into the open cave ; he keeps pace with his guide, as she 
 goes onward, with no timorous steps. 
 
 264 — 267. The invocation. 
 " Powers, who possess the realm of spirits, and ye, silent shades, 
 and ye, Chaos and Phlegethon, regions hushed in universal night, may 
 
 1 be allowed to utter the things 1 have heard ; may it be granted me, 
 by your will, to unfold truths buried in the deep of the earth and in 
 darkness." 
 
 268 — 294. The dwellers in the entrance of the gate of hell. 
 Dimly they went along beneath the lonesome night, through the 
 gloom, and through the empty mansions and unsubstantial realms of 
 Dis ; such is the journey in the woods through the glimmering moon- 
 light, beneath the unkindly beam, when Jove has buried the sky in 
 gloom, and black night has robbed the world of its colour. Just before 
 
VI. 3«4-] THE JENEID. 165 
 
 the porch, and in the opening of the jaws of Orcus, Grief and Avenging 
 Pains have set their couch ; and there ghastly Diseases dwell, and 
 joyless Old Age, and Fear, and Hunger that impels to crime, and 
 squalid Want, forms fearful to view, and Death, and Toil ; next Sleep, 
 Death's own brother, and the bad Delights of the mind, and War 
 fraught with doom, in the threshold before the eye ; and the iron 
 chambers of the Furies, and maddening Discord, her snaky hair en- 
 twined with bloody wreaths. In the midst an elm, shadowy, vast, spreads 
 out its boughs and aged arms, which common rumour says that cheating 
 Dreams possess for their abode, and fasten beneath every leaf: and 
 moreover many various forms of monstrous beasts are there, the Centaurs 
 make their stalls in the entrance, and the Scyllas of twofold shape, and 
 hundred-handed Briareus, and the huge beast of Lerna, with its terrific 
 hissing, and Chimsera armed with flames, the Gorgons, and the Harpies, 
 and the shape of the phantom with triple body. Hereupon ^Eneas, 
 alarmed with sudden panic, hastily seizes his sword, and presents against 
 them as they come the naked edge ; and had not his sage companion 
 warned him that those were unsubstantial disembodied spirits, flitting 
 about within the hollow phantom of a shape, he would have rushed 
 upon them, and idly struck asunder shadows with the steel. 
 295 — 336. Description of Charon, and the dead conveyed in his boat. 
 The fate of the unburiedi, 
 Hence begins a way which leads to the waters of Tartarean Acheron. 
 This flood, all turbid with its muddy stream and dreary rapids, rages 
 along, and belches forth into Acheron all its sand. A grim ferryman 
 guards the waters of this river, Charon, hideous in his squalor ; for 
 on his chin there lies a huge mass of untrimmed gray hair, his eyes 
 are fixed and fiery, a filthy cloak hangs down from his shoulders by 
 a knot. With his own hands he works the boat along with a pole, and 
 manages the sails, and is always conveying to the shore the dead in 
 his murky bark, old as he now is ; but fresh and vigorous is the old 
 age of a god. Hither all the throng was rushing in a tide towards 
 the bank, matrons and husbands, and the lifeless bodies of valiant 
 heroes, boys and unmarried girls, and youths that were laid on the 
 funeral pile before their. parents' eyes; thick as the leaves fall to the 
 ground in the forests, when the autumnal cold begins ; or thick as the 
 birds come in crowded flight to land from the high sea, when the cold 
 season drives them across the deep, and sends them into sunnier lands. 
 There they stood, intreating to be the first to pass across, and ever 
 stretched forth their hands with longing desire for the farther shore. 
 But the surly boatman admits now these, now those ; but others he 
 thrusts to a distance, and keeps away from the brink. /Eneas, for he 
 wondered and was amazed at the tumult, "Tell me, maiden,'' he says, 
 "what means the thronging to the stream? Or what is it the spirits 
 require? Or by what distinction are some compelled to leave the 
 bank, while others sweep with the o?r the lurid pool?" To him the 
 aged priestess thus in few words replied : " Offspring of Anchises, Au- 
 thentic child of Heaven, you behold the deep flood of Cocytus, and 
 the marsh of the Styx, by whose divinity the gods fear to swear and 
 
1 66 VIRGIL. [VI. 325— 
 
 not keep their oath. All this crowd that you behold is forlorn and 
 unburied; that ferryman is Charon ; these, who are borne upon the 
 flood, have been interred. And he is not allowed to convey them 
 between the dreadful banks, and across the roaring stream, before their 
 bones have been laid in their place of rest. A hundred years they 
 roam, and flit about these coasts ; then at last they are received, and 
 visit again the pool they long to win." The son of Anchises paused, 
 and stayed his steps, full of thought, and pitying in soul their hard 
 lot. There he observes all sorrowful and destitute of the rites of death, 
 Leucaspis, and the captain of the Lycian fleet, Orontes ; whom, both 
 at once, when on their voyage from Troy across the tossing deep, 
 Auster overwhelmed, plunging in the water ship and crew as well. 
 337 — 383. Palinurus tells JEneas the story of his death. The Sibyl 
 
 consoles him^ by predicting the honours that are to be paid hint in the 
 
 country where he perished. 
 
 Lo, the pilot Palinurus came along, who late, in the voyage from 
 Libya, while he watched the stars, had fallen from the stern of the 
 ship, and been tumbled into the midst of the waves. ^Eneas, when he had 
 hardly recognised him full of sorrow in the thick darkness, was the first 
 to address him thus : " Which of the gods was it, who snatched you 
 from us, Palinurus, and sunk you in the midst of the main ? Tell me, 
 I pray. For Apollo, though I never before found him a deceiver, de- 
 luded my soul by this one oracle, in that he foretold that you would 
 be unharmed by sea, and reach the Ausonian shores. Is this indeed 
 his faithful promise?" The other in reply ; "Neither did the tripod 
 of Phoebus deceive you, prince, Anchises' son, nor did a god plunge 
 me in the deep. For in headlong fall I dragged down with me the 
 rudder, wrenched away by mishap, with rude violence ; the rudder, which 
 I, its appointed guardian, was holding steadfastly, and guiding the ship's 
 course. By the savage seas I swear, that I conceived no such great 
 fear for myself, as for your ship, lest, stripped of its helm, and violently 
 bereft of its master, it might not live, while such a sea was rising. 
 Three winter nights the South wind wildly bore me on the water, 
 across the boundless main ; scarcely, on the fourth dawn, as I raised 
 myself upward, I caught sight of Italy from the surface of the sea. 
 By slow degrees I swam towards land ; soon I should have gained 
 safe ground ; had not the ruthless race, while I was weighed down in 
 my drenched garments, and striving to grasp with crooked hands the 
 rough points of. a crag, attacked me with the sword, and in their 
 ignorance thought me a prize. Now I lie at the mercy of the waves, 
 and the winds ofttimes cast me on the shore. Wherefore by the 
 pleasant light of heaven, by your father, I beseech you, and the pro- 
 mise of your rising lulus, rescue me from these woes, unconquered 
 prince : either cast earth upon me yourself, (for you have the power 
 to do it,) and again repair to the port of Velia ; or now, if there be 
 any means, if the goddess that gave you birth shews you any, (for not 
 without the will of Heaven, I ween, you are about to sail o'er streams 
 so dread, and the Stygian pool,) lend your hand to your hapless pilot, 
 and carry me with you across the flood, that in death I may repose 
 
VI. 4 1 9-] THE jENEID. 1 67 
 
 in a tranquil place of rest, at least." So had he spoken, when the 
 priestess thus begins: "Whence comes it, Palinurus, that you feel 
 a longing so unlawful? Will you, unburied, view the waters of the 
 Styx, and the Furies' grim stream, and unbidden approach the bank? 
 Cease to hope that divine destiny can yield to prayer. But receive 
 into your memory my words, the consolation of your hard fortune. 
 For your bones the neighbouring tribes, far and wide throughout their 
 cities, compelled by signs from Heaven, shall propitiate, and set up 
 a mound, and to the mound shall bring due offerings, and the place 
 shall keep for ever the name of Palinurus." By these words his cares 
 are cleared away, and his grief for awhile driven from his sorrowing 
 heart ; he is pleased with the land that is to bear his name. 
 384 — 416. Charon, awed at the sight of the golden bough, carries JE?ieas 
 and the Sibyl across the Styx. 
 
 And so they proceed to accomplish their journey, and draw nigh to the 
 river. And the boatman, when, from the spot where they stood, he 
 marked them, from the Stygian flood, coming onward through the silent 
 grove, and turning their steps towards the bank, thus, before they spoke, 
 encountered them with these words, and challenged them besides : " Who- 
 ever you are, who advance in arms to our stream, say now wherefore you 
 come, there, from that place, and check your step. This is the world of 
 Shades, of Sleep and slumberous Night; it is forbidden to convey the 
 bodies of the living in the Stygian bark. Truly it brought me no joy that 
 I admitted into my boat Alcides on his journey, and Theseus, and Piri- 
 thous, sprung from gods though they were, and of might invincible. The 
 former violently pursued the sentinel of hell from the throne of the mon- 
 arch, to bind him, and dragged him trembling hence ; the latter attempt- 
 ed to force away our queen from the bridal-chamber of Dis." In reply to 
 this the Amphrysian prophetess shortly answered : " With us there is no 
 such stratagem ; refrain your passion ; nor do our weapons intend force ; 
 let the monstrous doorkeeper in his cave fright with his ceaseless bark 
 the bloodless shades ; let chaste Proserpine abide within her uncle's por- 
 tal. ^Eneas of Troy, renowned for piety and valour, descends, to meet 
 his sire, to the deepest gloom of Erebus. If the sight of such high piety 
 has no power to move you, still (she discloses the bough which was hid- 
 den in her dress,) acknowledge this bough." And no more than this she 
 spoke. The other, viewing with astonishment the awful gift of the fateful 
 stem, which he beheld after a long space of time, turns to land his sable 
 vessel, and draws nigh to the bank. Next he thrusts out other spirits, 
 who were sitting along the length of the benches, and clears the gang- 
 ways; withal he admits into the hull the great ^neas. The crazy craft 
 groaned beneath the weight, and through its leaks let in a flood of marshy 
 water. At last on the other side of the stream he lands in safety pro- 
 phetess and hero on the unsightly mire and gray sedge. 
 417—425. The Sibyl stttpefies Cerberus with a cake of drugged honey 
 
 and wheat. 
 
 These are the realms huge Cerberus makes ring with the barking of his 
 threefold jaws, reposing his enormous bulk in the cave that fronts the 
 ferry. To him the prophetess, seeing that the serpents of his neck begin 
 
1 68 VIRGIL. [VI. 420— 
 
 to bristle, throws a cake stupefying with its honey and drugged wheat. 
 He, opening wide in ravenous hunger his three throats, snaps up the prof- 
 fered morsel, and, sunk upon the ground, relaxes his monstrous back, and 
 stretches his huge carcass throughout the length and breadth of the 
 cavern. y£neas gains the passage while the sentinel is buried in sleep, 
 and rapidly surmounts the bank of the flood o'er which there is no return. 
 426 — 439. The inhabitants of the first regions of hell. 
 
 Straightway cries are heard, and wailing loud, and the spirits of infants 
 weeping in the entrance of the door, whom, without sharing the sweets of 
 life, and torn from the breast, the day of doom swept away, and plunged 
 into untimely death. Next to these are they that were condemned to die 
 on a false charge : and these abodes are by no means assigned without 
 allotment, without a judge ; Minos rules the scrutiny, and shakes the urn ; 
 he convokes the conclave of the silent dead, and learns their lives, and 
 the charges brought against them. The regions that come next in order 
 are filled by a sad company, who, without guilt, have been the authors of 
 their own death by violence, and sick of the light of day have flung away 
 their lives. How ready they would be now, to endure beneath the height 
 of the sky both penury and hard struggles! The law of Heaven forbids, 
 and the unlovely marsh with its joyless flood binds them in, and Styx 
 hems them round with nine circles of its stream. 
 
 440 — 476. The Mourning Fields. JEneas sees Dido, and tries in vain 
 
 to soothe her. 
 
 Not far from hence the Mourning Fields are shewn, spreading on every 
 side; such is the name by which they call them. Here they whom cruel 
 love has wasted away with pining pain, are concealed in secluded paths, 
 and covered all round by a myrtle grove ; not even in death do their woes 
 desert them. In these regions he descries Phaedra, and Procris, and Eri- 
 phyle full of grief, pointing to the wounds dealt by her cruel son, and 
 Evadne, and Pasiphae ; in company with them Laodamia goes along, and 
 Caeneus, once a youth, a woman now, and again transformed by fate into 
 her original shape. Among them Phoenician Dido, fresh from her wound, 
 was wandering in a vast wood : the hero of Troy, so soon as he stood nigh 
 her, and recognised through the gloom her dim figure— even as in the be- 
 ginning of the month one sees, or thinks he sees, the moon uprising 
 through the clouds — shed tears, and addressed her with the tenderness of 
 love : " Hapless Dido, were then the tidings true which came to me, that 
 you had perished, and sought with the sword your final doom? Alas, 
 was I the cause of your death? By the stars I swear, by the gods above, 
 and by whatever bond of honour exists in the depth of the earth, un- 
 willingly, O queen, I retreated from your coast. But the command of 
 Heaven it was, which now compels me to travel through these shades, 
 through regions overgrown with mould, and through the abyss of night, 
 that forced me by its behests ; and I could not believe that I should by 
 my departure bring you such deep woe as this. Stay your steps, and 
 withdraw not yourself from my view. Why do you flee from me? This 
 is the last time Fate allows me to speak with you." By such words 
 ^Eneas strove to soothe her soul, burning with wrath though she was, 
 and glaring gloomily, and drew tears from his eyes. She, turning from 
 
VI. 513.] THE jENEID. 169 
 
 him, kept her looks fixed on the ground, and was no more melted by the 
 words he essayed to speak, than if she were a solid rock of flint, 'or a 
 Marpessian crag. At length she hurried away, and disdainfully fled back 
 into the shady grove, where Sychaeus, her former husband, sympathises 
 with her woes, and requites her with equal love. And not the less yEneas, 
 shocked at her hard calamity, follows her far along her path with his tears 
 and his pity. 
 
 477 — 493. The abode of the heroes. The Greeks are sca?'ed at the sight 
 
 of JEfieas. 
 
 Then he sets himself anew to perform the journey assigned him. 
 And presently they reached the farthest fields, the secluded fields, 
 haunted by those renowned in war. Here Tydeus meets him, here 
 Parthenopaeus famed in fight, and the pallid form of Adrastus ; here 
 the children of Dardanus, o'er whom many a lament had been wafted 
 to heaven ; for they fell in battle ; and he sighed as he discerned 
 them all in long array, both Glaucus, and Medon, and Thersilochus, 
 Antenor's three sons, and Polyphcetes holy to Ceres, and Idaeus, still 
 keeping his car, still his arms. Right and left the spirits surround him 
 in crowds ; and it is not enough to catch one sight of him ; it is their 
 joy still to linger near him, and walk with him side by side, and learn 
 the reasons of his coming. But the princes of the Greeks and the 
 battalions of Agamemnon, as soon as they saw the warrior, and the 
 armour flashing through the gloom, began to quiver in boundless panic ; 
 some turned their backs in flight, as of yore they hurried to the ships ; 
 some strive to raise a feeble cry ; the shout attempted mocks their strain- 
 ing lips. 
 494 — 534. Among the heroes, jEneas meets Deiplwbtis cruelly mangled. 
 
 Deiphobus relates how he was murdered on the night Troy was 
 
 taken. 
 And now he saw Deiphobus, Priam's son, with all his body mutilated, 
 his face cruelly mangled, his face and both his hands, and his temples 
 robbed and bereft of the ears, and his nostrils lopped away by a shame- 
 ful stroke. It was even with difficulty he recognised him, as he trembled 
 and cowered, and tried to conceal the marks of his monstrous torture : 
 and ^Eneas, before he spoke, in well-known accents accosts him : 
 " Deiphobus, mighty in arms, descendant of the ancient blood of Teucer, 
 whose will has inflicted upon you a punishment so cruel? Who has 
 been permitted to treat you so outrageously? Rumour told me that 
 you, on the night of our doom, tired with the slaughter of a host of 
 Greeks, sank down upon the mingled mass of carnage. I myself then 
 set up in your honour an empty barrow on the Rhcetean coast, and with 
 solemn cry thrice called on your spirit. Your name and arms mark 
 the spot; I was not able, my friend, to see your body, and lay you, 
 when I departed, in our native soil." The son of Priam replies : 
 " Nought by you, my friend, has been left unperformed ; you have ful- 
 filled every duty to Deiphobus, and to the phantom of his corpse. B.ut 
 my fate it was, and the pernicious wickedness of the Spartan woman, 
 that plunged me into these calamities ; these are the keepsakes she has 
 left me. For you know how we spent the night of our doom, amid 
 
170 VIRGIL. [VI. 514— 
 
 deluding joys; and it must be that you remember it only too well. 
 When the fateful horse with a bound o'erpassed the lofty walls of 
 Pergama, and brought in its teeming womb an armed battalion, she, in 
 feigned religious dance, led around the city the Phrygian women raising 
 the bacchanal cry ; she herself in their midst held a mighty firebrand, 
 and called in the Greeks from the height of the citadel. At that time 
 I, unhappy man, was within my bridal-chamber, worn with cares and 
 weighed down with sleep ; and as I lay, repose, sweet and deep, and 
 the very image of quiet death, lay heavy upon me. Meanwhile my 
 worthy wife clears the house of all its arms, and had filched away from 
 beside my head my trusty sword : she invites into the dwelling Menelaus, 
 and opens to him my door, no doubt hoping that that would be a great 
 gift in the eyes of her lover, and so might be blotted out the shame 
 of her past misdeeds. Why do I prolong my tale ? They break into 
 the chamber ; withal the son of ^Eolus, the instigator of crimes, joins 
 the band. Ye gods, repay the Greeks that outrage, if with pious lips 
 I pray for vengeance ! But come, tell me in your turn, what fortunes have 
 brought you hither, a living man. Is it driven by wanderings on the 
 deep you come, or at the bidding of Heaven? or what other chance 
 constrains you to visit the sad and sunless abodes, the regions of 
 disorder ? " 
 
 535 — 547. At the bidding of the Sibyl, Deiphobus departs. 
 
 During this exchange of talk, Aurora on her rosy chariot had already 
 traversed half the span of heaven in her etherial course ; and perhaps 
 they would have prolonged such converse through all the allotted time ; 
 but the Sibyl at his side warned and shortly addressed him : " Night 
 is fast coming on, ^Eneas ; we waste the hours in weeping. This is the 
 point, where the way divides into two branches : the right is that which 
 runs beneath the battlements of mighty Dis ; along it lies our road to 
 Elysium : but that on the left inflicts on the bad their punishment, 
 and conducts them to Tartarus, the home of impiety." Deiphobus in 
 answer ; " Let not thine anger rise, great priestess : I will depart ; I 
 will fill my place in the number of the shades, and return to the darkness. 
 Go then, go, glory of our land, enjoy a better fate than mine." He spoke, 
 and with the words on his lips turned his steps away. 
 548 — 561. &neas inquires the meaning of a dreadful prison-house 071 
 the left of the path. 
 
 ^neas suddenly looks round, and beneath a rock that lies on the 
 left sees battlements extended wide, surrounded with a triple wall, and 
 encircled by a rushing river with waves of torrent fire, Tartarean 
 Phlegethon, that rolls down its channel rattling rocks. Opposite stands 
 the gate of ponderous size, with pillars of solid adamant ; so that no 
 mortal might, nay, not the dwellers in the sky, are strong enough to 
 throw it down in war ; up towards heaven stands the iron tower ; and 
 in her seat Tisiphone, with robe girt up and stained with blood, guards 
 the porch by night and day, a sleepless sentinel. Hence are clearly 
 heard groanings and the sound of the cruel scourge ; next clanking iron, 
 and dragging chains. ^Eneas stopped, and stood still, affrighted at the 
 din. " What forms of crime are these ? Tell me, maiden. Or what are 
 
VI. 6 1 1 ] THE jENEID. 1 7 1 
 
 the heavy punishments they feel ? What means this wail so loud, that 
 rises to the sky ? " 
 
 562 — 627. The Sibyl describes Tartarus and its inhabitants. 
 Then thus the prophetess began to speak : " Illustrious captain of the 
 Trojans, no one that is holy may tread the threshold of the wicked ; 
 but Hecate, when she made me mistress of the groves of Avernus, 
 herself taught me the divine punishments, and guided me through all 
 the scenes. Cretan Rhadamanthus is lord of these kingdoms, kingdoms 
 most severe ; and scourges guilt, and hears its story, and compels men 
 to confess the commission of those crimes, which in the upper world, 
 exulting in a fruitless craft, they delayed to atone for till the late hour 
 of death. Tisiphone, the avenger, armed with her whip, unceasingly 
 lashes the shuddering criminals, and taunts them withal, and with her 
 left hand brandishing her grim serpents, summons her ruthless sister- 
 hood. Then at last, with a horrid sound of the grating hinge, the 
 awful doors fly open. See you the form of the watcher that sits in the 
 porch? the shape that guards the threshold? The Hydra, still more 
 fierce, that monster with the fifty black and gaping mouths, has its 
 dwellingplace within. Then Tartarus itself yawns with sheer descent, 
 and stretches down through the darkness, twice as far as the eye 
 travels upward to the firmament of heaven. Here the ancient brood 
 of earth, the Titan warriors, struck down by the thunderbolt writhe in 
 the bottom of the pit. Here I also saw both the sons of Aloeus, 
 enormous frames, who essayed to tear down by force the mighty heaven, 
 and thrust out Jove from the realms on high. I saw Salmoneus too, 
 enduring the cruel punishment that overtook him while he imitated 
 the fire of Jove and the noise of Olympus. He, drawn by four horses, 
 and waving his torch, throughout the nations of Greece and the heart 
 of the city of Elis went in triumph, and claimed to receive divine 
 homage. Fool ! to strive, with car of brass and trampling steeds of 
 horny foot, to counterfeit clouds and darkness and the inimitable bolt ! 
 But the Almighty Father from amid thick thunderclouds hurled his 
 shaft, no firebrands he, nor smoky pinewood blaze, and smote him 
 headlong down with the tremendous blast. Likewise one might see 
 Tityos also, child of Earth the universal mother, he whose body lies 
 stretched o'er full nine acres ; and the fell vulture with crooked beak, 
 feeding on his imperishable liver, and vitals fruitful with punishment, 
 gropes for its meal, and makes its dwelling deep within his breast, 
 and no respite is allowed to the entrails that ever grow afresh. Why 
 should I mention the Lapithae, Ixion, and Pirithous ? over whose heads 
 is hanging a black crag, every moment about to slip, and looking like 
 a rock in act to fall : lofty festal couches glitter with golden feet, and 
 before their eyes a banquet is spread in kingly sumptuousness : at their 
 side reclines the eldest of the Furies, and forbids them to lay their 
 hands on the feast, and springs up, brandishing her torch, and cries 
 with voice of thunder. Here they who hated their brethren, while life 
 lasted, or struck their father, or entangled their client in a web of fraud, 
 or who gloated by themselves over riches they had found, and gave 
 no share to their friends, (who are they that form the largest throng,) 
 
I7 2 VIRGIL. [VI. 612— 
 
 and they who were slain for their adultery, and they who followed 
 impious arms against their country, and scrupled not to break allegiance 
 to their lords, in close prison await their punishment. Ask not to learn 
 what is the punishment they expect, or in what guise of pain or in 
 what doom they are engulphed : some roll along a huge stone, and 
 hang with outstretched limbs upon the spokes of wheels ; unhappy 
 Theseus sits and will sit there for ever ; and Phlegyas in his depth 
 of woe warns the world, and with loud cry speaks his counsel through 
 the gloom ; ' Warned by me, learn righteousness, and not to scorn the 
 gods.' One sold his country for gold, and placed over it a tyrannous 
 master ; for a price he made and unmade laws ; another forced his 
 daughter to be his bride, and formed a forbidden wedlock : all dared 
 to attempt monstrous crime, and gained the object of their daring. 
 Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, and a voice of steel, 
 could I comprise in words all the shapes of wickedness, or run over the 
 names of all the punishments." 
 
 628 — 636. ^Eneas deposits the bough in the gateway of Pluto's palace. 
 When the aged priestess of Phoebus had uttered these words, "But 
 now come," she says, "hasten on your way, and perform the offering 
 you have undertaken : let us make speed ; I descry the battlements 
 reared by the furnaces of the Cyclops, and the gates with their archway 
 that fronts us, where the precepts we have received bid us deposit 
 this gift." She ended ; and advancing side by side along the shadowy 
 path, they hurry o'er the ground that lies between, and draw nigh to 
 the door. .^Eneas gains the entrance, and sprinkles his body with 
 fresh water, and hangs up the bough in the threshold opposite. 
 
 637 — 659. Elysium; its inhabitants, and their pastimes. 
 When at length these duties were completed, and the offering pre- 
 scribed by the goddess performed, they came to pleasant places, and 
 the smiling lawns of happy groves, and the homes of the blessed. Here 
 a bright sky robes the fields with fuller radiance and with dazzling light ; 
 and they know their Own sun, their own stars. Some exercise their 
 limbs on grassy wrestling-grounds ; in sport they contend, and struggle 
 on the yellow sand : some mark the measure with their feet, and sing 
 songs. Likewise the holy Thracian bard, in his flowing dress, keeps 
 time to the music with the seven separate notes of the voice ; and 
 strikes them now with his fingers, now with his ivory quill. Here is the 
 ancient progeny of Teucer, a beauteous race, valiant heroes, born in 
 better years, both Ilus, and Assaracus, and Dardanus the founder of 
 Troy. From a distance he views with wonder the visionary arms and 
 chariots of the heroes. Their lances stand fixed in the ground, and 
 all about their steeds unharnessed are feeding o'er the plain. The 
 delight in chariots and arms they had when living, the care they took 
 to feed their glossy steeds, attends them undiminished now they are 
 laid in earth. Lo, he observes others to right and left along the grass, 
 banqueting, and chanting in chorus the joyful Psean, amid the fragrant 
 grove of bay-trees, whence to the world above the full- flowing stream of 
 Eridanus rolls onward through the forest. 
 
VI. 709.] THE jEXEID. 
 
 660 — 678. Musaeus directs the Sibyl to Anchises. 
 Here the company of those who met their wounds in fighting for their 
 fatherland, and they who were holy priests, while this life iasted, and they 
 who were pious bards, and spoke things meet for the ear of Phcebus, or 
 who gave life refinement by the arts they discovered, and thev who by 
 their good deeds won the gratitude of others ; all these have their brows 
 encircled with snowy fillets. Them, as they crowded round, the Sibyl 
 thus addressed, Mus.asus before the rest ; for the largest throng make him 
 their centre, and to him look up, as he stands above them with towering 
 shoulders : " Say, blessed spirits, and you, excellent bard, what region, 
 what spot, contains Anchises? For his sake have we come hither, and 
 floated o'er the vast rivers of Erebus." Then to her the hero thus in few- 
 words replied : " No one has a fixed abode ; we dwell in the shady woods, 
 and haunt the couches that the river-banks afford, and the meadows that 
 the fountains freshen. But do ye, if such is the object of your hearts' 
 desire, pass over this ridge; and presently I will set you down on a gently 
 sloping track." He spoke, and passed on before them, and from the height 
 points out the shining fields : after that, they leave the summit of the hill. 
 679 — 702. The meeting of JEneas and Anchises. 
 But father Anchises, deep within a verdant vale, was surveying with 
 studious thought the spirits now shut up, and destined to pass into the 
 light above; and chanced to be reviewing all the array of his people, and 
 his beloved descendants, and the fates and fortunes of the heroes, and 
 their characters and deeds of might. And he, when he saw ^Eneas ad- 
 vancing across the grass to meet him, eagerly stretched forth both his 
 hands, and tears streamed down his cheeks, and his words started from 
 his lips : " Have you come at last, and has the affection your sire has 
 looked for o'ercome the difficult way? Am I allowed to gaze upon your 
 face, your own, my son, and to hear and utter in reply familiar words? 
 I of myself was concluding in soul and conceiving that so it was to be, as 
 I measured the seasons of time ; and my study has deceived me not. A 
 pilgrim o'er lands how many, and seas how fierce, tempest-tossed by- 
 perils how dread, do I welcome you, my son! How much I feared lest 
 the realm of Libya might work you woe!" He in reply: "Your phan- 
 tom, my father, your sad phantom it was, that often came before me, and 
 compelled me to take my way to this portal : my fleet lies moored on the 
 Tuscan brine. Suffer me to clasp your hand in mine; suffer me, my 
 father, and withdraw not yourself from my embrace." As thus he spoke, 
 he bedewed his face with a flood of tears. Thrice he then essayed to 
 throw his arms about his neck; thrice the phantom, vainly grasped, lied 
 from his hands, as unsubstantial as the winds, and in all points like a 
 fleeting dream. 
 
 703 — 723. The river of Lethe, and the spirits who drink its waters. 
 Meanwhile, in a retired vale, ^Eneas views a secret grove, and woods 
 with rustling brakes, and Lethe's stream that drifts along beside those 
 quiet homes. About it unnumbered tribes and nations hovered; even 
 as when in the meadows the bees, beneath the cloudless summer sky, 
 settle on flowers of various hue, and swarm round the white lilies; all 
 the field is loud with the hum. yEneas is startled at the sudden sight, 
 
*74 VIRGIL. [VI. 71c 
 
 and inquires the cause he cannot tell ; what yonder stream may be, or 
 who the men that throng its banks in crowd so great. Then father 
 Anchises: "Souls, to whom by fate a second body is due, drink beside 
 the wave of Lethe's flood the waters of indifference and a long forgetful- 
 ness. These spirits I have long desired myself to tell you of, and shew 
 them to your gaze, and read the catalogue of this line of my children, that 
 with me you may rejoice the more in your discovered Italy." "O my 
 father, can it be imagined that any spirits pass from hence aloft to heaven 
 above, and return again to the cumbrous body? Whence have the hap- 
 less souls so unblest a longing for the light ?" " I will tell you myself, my 
 son, and keep you not in perplexity." Anchises takes up the tale, and 
 expounds each truth in order. 
 724 — 751. Anchises expounds the doctrine of the Soul of the Universe. 
 "First, the sky, and earth, and watery plains, and the moon's bright 
 sphere, and Titan's star, a Spirit feeds within ; and a Mind, instilled 
 throughout the limbs, gives energy to the whole mass, and mingles with 
 the mighty body. Thence springs the race of men and beasts, and the 
 lives of winged fowl, and the monsters Ocean bears beneath his marble 
 floor. Those seeds have fiery soul and heavenly birth, so far as irksome 
 bodies clog them not, and earthy limbs and members fraught with death 
 do not blunt their vigour. Hence is the source of their fears and desires, 
 their griefs and joys ; and they catch no glimpse of heaven, in gloom 
 imprisoned and a darksome cage. Nay, even when life has left them 
 with its latest ray, still every ill and all the plagues of the body do not 
 utterly pass out from the wretches, and it must needs be that many 
 defilements long-contracted grow deep into their being in wondrous wise. 
 Therefore they suffer a probation of punishment, and pay the full penalty" 
 of past misdeeds ; some hung aloft are exposed to the viewless winds ; 
 from some the taint of guilt is washed away beneath the boundless flood : 
 we suffer each his own ghostly penance : after that, we are released, to 
 range through the wide spaces of Elysium, and possess the happy fields, 
 a scanty band : till a long course of time, when the full cycle is com- 
 plete, has purged away the long-contracted stain, and leaves pure the 
 etherial essence, and unadulterated fire of heaven. All these, when they 
 have travelled round the circle of a thousand years, God summons in 
 mighty throng to the river of Lethe, that so, forgetful of the past, they 
 may go back to visit again the vault of the sky, and begin without re- 
 luctance to return to the body." 
 
 752 — 787. Anchises shews Apneas the royal line of his descendants down 
 
 to Romulus. 
 So spoke Anchises, and conducts his son, and with him the Sibyl, into 
 the midst of the groups and noisy crowd, and takes his stand upon 
 a mound, whence he can scan them all as they front him in long array, 
 and learn their features as they come towards him. " Come now, I will 
 rehearse in my speech the renown that henceforward is to attend the sons 
 of Dardanus, the descendants of the Italian line that are to be, glorious 
 spirits, and fated to pass into our race ; and will teach you your destinies. 
 He whom you see, the youth that leans upon a pointless lance, his lot it 
 is to hold a station nearest to the lisrht above; he will be the first to rise 
 
V[. 8n.] THE JENEII). 175 
 
 to the upper air with a mixture of Italian blood, Silvius, an Alban name, 
 your last child, whom late in time your wife Lavinia to you in your old 
 age shall bear in the woods, to be a king and sire of kings, by whom our 
 race shall be lords in Alba Longa. He that comes next is Procas, 
 the pride of the Trojan people, and Capys, and Numitor, and he that 
 shall reflect you in name, Silvius ^Eneas, alike in piety and arms re- 
 nowned, if ever Alba receive him for her king. What youths are there ! 
 see, what mighty vigour they display, and bear brows shaded with the 
 civic wreath of oak ! These for your posterity shall build N omentum, 
 and Gabii, and the city of Fidenae ; these shall place upon the mountains 
 the fortress of Collatia, Pometii, and the stronghold of Inuus, and Bola, 
 and Cora. These shall then be names : the lands are nameless now. More- 
 over the child of Mavors shall become the companion of his grandsire, 
 even Romulus, whom of the blood of Assaracus his mother Ilia shall 
 bear. See you how a double crest is settled on his head, and his father 
 himself already marks him with his own glory for a tenant of the sky ? 
 Observe, my son, he will be the author, beginning from whom that far- 
 famed Rome shall bound her empire by earth, her pride by heaven, and, 
 one within herself, encompass with her wall seven embattled heights, 
 blest in her line of heroes ; even as the Berecynthian mother, with her 
 crown of towers, is borne in her car throughout the cities of Phrygia, 
 exulting in her progeny of gods, embracing her hundred descendants, all 
 denizens of heaven, all possessors of the lofty skies. 
 
 788 — 807. The glory of the Julian line, and the praise of Augnshis. 
 
 Now hither bend the gaze of both your eyes, regard this clan, and 
 your own Romans. Here is Csesar, and all the posterity of lulus, that 
 is to pass beneath the vault of heaven. This, this is the hero, who oft you 
 hear is promised you, Augustus Caesar, of deified Caesar's race, who shall 
 establish in Latium a second time the golden age, throughout the fields 
 where Saturn once was king: beyond the Garamantae and beyond the 
 Indians he shall extend his empire : there lies a land without the bound 
 of the constellations, outside the pathway of the year and the sun, where 
 Atlas, bearer of the sky, upholds upon his shoulder the circling heaven 
 studded with fiery stars. At his foreseen approach, even now the Caspian 
 realms and the land of Maeotis quake to hear the responses of the gods, 
 and the mouths of sevenfold Nile are in a tumult of terror. Not even 
 Alcides traversed so large a space of earth, although he pierced the hind 
 with feet of brass, and brought peace to the groves of Erymanthus, and 
 made Lerna tremble with his bow ; nor he, the conqueror, who manages 
 his car with reins festooned with vine-leaves, Liber, when he drives the 
 tigers down from the towering peak of Nysa. And are we still slow by 
 prowess to spread our power, and does fear forbid us to settle in the 
 Ausonian land? 
 
 808 — 853. The kings of Rome, and heroes of the republic. The pane- 
 gyric of Rome. 
 
 But who is he yonder, that bears the sacred things, distinguished 
 by his boughs of olive? I begin to discern the hoary locks and chin 
 of the king of Rome, who first shall establish the city upon the founda- 
 tion of law ; he, sent from the humble Cures, and a poor land, to 
 
176 VIRGIL. [VI. 812— 
 
 sovereign sway. To him in course Tullus will succeed, who shall break 
 the repose of his country, and wake to arms the lazy warriors, and 
 the troops to whom triumphs have grown strange. Close to him follows 
 the somewhat boastful Ancus, even at this very time too much pleased 
 with the breezes of the people's breath. Choose you also to see the 
 Tarquin kings, and the proud spirit of Brutus the avenger, and the 
 fasces he recovered? He is the first that shall acquire the consular 
 command, and the ruthless axes ; and he, the father, shall in the cause 
 of fair freedom summon to punishment his sons, who strive to wake 
 another war. Unhappy man ! However posterity shall deem of such 
 an action, love of his country shall prevail, and the boundless passion 
 for renown. Moreover, behold yonder the Decii, and the Drusi, and 
 Torquatus with his ruthless axe, and Camillus bringing back the stand- 
 ards. They again, whom you see glittering in like arms, united spirits 
 now, and so long as they are buried in darkness, alas ! how fierce a 
 war shall they wage with one another, if they reach the light of life, 
 what battles and carnage shall they create ! The father-in-law coming 
 down from the rampart of the Alps, and the citadel of Moncecus ; the 
 son-in-law with all the East in battle array to meet him ! Do not, 
 my children, do not make such wars familiar to your souls, nor point 
 your power and might against your country's heart ; and do you be 
 the first to refrain, you who trace your descent from the sky ; fling from 
 your hand the darts, my own child ! Yonder hero shall triumph over 
 Corinth, and guide to the height of the Capitol his victorious car, 
 made famous by Achaean slaughter ; that other shall bring to the ground 
 Argos and Agamemnonian Mycenae, and the son of ^Eacus himself, 
 the descendant of Achilles strong in battle, avenging his ancestors of 
 Troy, and the pollution of Minerva's shrine. Who would leave you 
 unnoticed, mighty Cato, or you, Cossus? Who the line of Gracchus, 
 or the two thunderbolts of war, the Scipios, twins in glory, the bane 
 of Libya, and Fabricius, rich in his scanty store, or you, Serranus, 
 sowing in your furrowed field? Whither do ye hurry me all weary, 
 ye Fabii? You are that greatest one of your race, who, singly, by 
 delaying restore our state. Let others with finer touch beat out the 
 breathing brass, (I well believe it ;) let them express from marble 
 features that live ; let them plead causes better, and with the wand 
 mark out the paths of heaven, and tell the times at which the stars 
 arise : make it your business, Roman, to rule the nations with your 
 sway ; let these be your arts ; to enforce the maintenance of peace, to 
 spare the submissive, and crush in war the proud." 
 
 854 — 886. The praise of the two Marcelli. A lament for the younger 's 
 
 early death. 
 So said father Anchises, and further speaks to his wondering hearers : 
 " See how Marcellus advances, all glorious in the noblest spoils, and 
 like a conqueror o'ertops all the warriors ! He it is who shall set firm 
 the realm of Rome, when shaken by rude commotions in the land ; 
 he shall trample down beneath his horse-hoofs the Carthaginian, and 
 the Gaul that wakes the war anew ; and a third time hang up the 
 captured arms to father Quirinus." And here ^Eneas, (for walking with 
 
VI. goi.] THE JENEID. 1 77 
 
 the hero he observed a youth of surpassing beauty and flashing arms, 
 but joyless was his countenance, and downcast the gaze of his eyes ;) 
 " Who, my father, is he that thus accompanies the warrior on his 
 way? His son, or some one of the mighty line of his descendants? 
 How loud the applause of his companions around him ! What majesty 
 in himself appears ! But black night with mournful shade hovers about 
 his head." Then father Anchises begins with starting tears : " My son, 
 seek not to learn your people's boundless woe : him fate shall but show 
 to the world, nor suffer him longer to exist. Too mighty had the Roman 
 race appeared to you, ye gods of heaven, had these blessings become 
 its own for ever. How deep the groans of men that famous Plain shall 
 send up to the mighty town of Mavors ! or what sad obsequies shalt thou, 
 O Tiber, see, when thou glidest past his new-built sepulchre ! And no 
 other youth of Trojan blood shall raise to such a height of hope his 
 Latin forefathers ; nor shall the land of Romulus vaunt herself so high 
 ■ in any other of her children. Alas his piety, alas his antique honour, 
 and his hand invincible in war ! No one would with impunity have 
 advanced to meet him in arms, either when he marched on foot against 
 the foe, or struck the spurs into the sides of his foaming steed. Alas, 
 hapless boy ! If it may be that you break through your hard fate, 
 you shall be a Marcellus. Give me handfuls of lilies ; I would strew 
 bright flowers, and plenteously, with these gifts at least honour the spirit 
 of my descendant, and discharge an unavailing duty." 
 %%*] — 901. Anchises tells JEneas what awaits him in Italy, and dis- 
 misses him and the Sibyl through one of the gates of Sleep. JEneas 
 sails to Caieta. 
 
 So they wander all around throughout the whole region, o'er the 
 broad plains of shadow, and survey everything. And when Anchises 
 has guided his son through each one of these scenes, and fired his 
 soul with the passion for future fame, he next relates to the hero the 
 wars which from this time he must wage, and tells him of the Laurentian 
 peoples, and the city of Latinus, and how he is to flee or to face each 
 difficulty. 
 
 Twofold are the gates of Sleep ; whereof the one is said to be of horn, 
 by which an easy exit is granted to the visions of truth ; the other 
 glittering with the polished whiteness of ivory : but false the dreams 
 the Powers below send to the world above. There Anchises with these 
 words then attends to the last his son, and with him the Sibyl, and 
 dismisses them by the ivory gate : ^Eneas makes his way to the ships, 
 and joins again his comrades. Then along the straight line of the coast 
 he sails to Caieta ; the anchor is cast from the prow ; the sterns are 
 grounded on the beach. 
 
 vir. 12 
 
1 7& VIRGIL. [VII. i— 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 I — 24. The nurse of JEneas dies. Her burial at the pro77iontory of 
 Caieta {Gaeta). The Trojans pass by the shore where Circe dwells, 
 and hear the roari?tg of the beasts that have once been men. 
 
 You too, Caieta, nurse of ^Eneas, gave by your death everlasting fame 
 to our shores : even now your honour guards your grave, and, whatever 
 glory it may be, the name marks the resting-place of your bones in the 
 great land of the west. But the pious ^Eneas having duly performed the 
 last honours, having raised the mound of the tomb, as soon as the deep 
 sea was calm, sails onwards in his course, and leaves the harbour. The 
 breezes freshen as night draws on, nor does the bright moon refuse to 
 light their course; the deep is brilliant beneath her tremulous ray. Next 
 they coast along the shores of the land of Circe, where the wealthy 
 daughter of the Sun fills her inaccessible groves with the music of ceaseless 
 song, and in her glorious halls burns the scented cedar to give her light by 
 night, and with her shrill-toned shuttle she runs through the finely-spun 
 woof. Hence were distinctly heard the angry roars of lions, as they 
 struggled against their bands, and moaned in the depth of the night, and 
 bristly boars and bears were ramping in their cages, and the forms of 
 huge wolves were howling : all these transformed from human shape the 
 cruel goddess had, by magic herbs, clothed with the faces and bodies of 
 wild beasts. Lest the pious Trojans should suffer such monstrous changes, 
 and lest they should be driven thither, and land on the cursed shore, 
 Neptune filled their sails with favourable winds, and gave them a swift 
 course, and bore them beyond the surging shoals. 
 
 25 — 36. At morn the sea becomes calm, and the Trojans quietly enter the 
 mouth of the Tiber. 
 
 And now the sea began to blush with the morning rays, and in the 
 lofty firmament saffron Aurora shone in her car of rosy hue : when the 
 winds at once dropped, and every breath of air suddenly subsided, and 
 the oars labour in the lazy water. And here ^Eneas from the sea beholds 
 a great grove. The Tiber divides it with its pleasant stream, a river with 
 whirling eddies, and yellow with thick sand ; here it bursts forth into the 
 sea; around and above were birds of various plumage, which haunting 
 the banks and channel of the stream charmed the air with their song, and 
 flew in the grove. The prince bids his comrades turn their course, and 
 put their prows towards the land, and gladly takes shelter in the shaded 
 river. 
 
 37 — 45. The poet invokes the Muse, as he has coine to the second part of 
 
 his poe7n. 
 
 Come now, Erato, aid me, and I will set forth the kings and the crisis 
 of events, and the state of ancient Latinum, when first the stranger host 
 moored its fleet on Ausonian coasts. Do thou, goddess, do thou instruct 
 thy bard ; I shall sing of dreadful wars, I shall sing of battle array, and of 
 princes driven by their passions to dreadful slaughter, and of the Etrurian 
 bands, and all Hesperia mustered for fight. A greater order of events arises 
 for my song, a greater theme I essay. 
 
VII. 99-] THE AINEID. 179 
 
 46—106. King Latinus: his daughter Lavinia. Portents of various 
 kinds foretell the arrival of an illustrious stranger, who is to be the 
 son-in-law of the king. 
 
 Old was Latinus then, and ruled his lands and cities in long and quiet 
 peace. Tradition tells that he was son of Faunus, and of the Laurentian 
 nymph Marica. Picus was father to Faunus ; Faunus goes back to thee, 
 O Saturn, as parent: thou wast the earliest author of the race. Latinus 
 had no son, such was heaven's will, no male issue ; he that was born to 
 him was taken away in early youth. One daughter alone maintained the 
 hopes of his home and great house ; she was now of age for marriage, 
 she was of full years to be a bride. Many were the suitors who came 
 from mighty Latium, and all Italy ; above all others wooed her Turn us 
 famed for beauty, noble in descent from ancient forefathers ; for him the 
 queen-mother was zealous with strong desire that he should be her son- 
 in-law : but in the way there stood the prodigies of heaven with sundry 
 dreadful signs. A bay-tree grew in the centre of the house in its inmost 
 recess, its leaves were holy, with awe it had been kept for many years. 
 J Tis said that there father Latinus found it, when he began to build his 
 palace, and himself dedicated it to Phoebus, and from it gave the name 
 Laurentian to the settlers. The highest point of it was possessed by a thick 
 swarm of bees, wondrous to tell, which with a mighty buzz flew through the 
 clear sky ; their feet were intertwined, and lo ! a sudden swarm hung from 
 the leafy bough. Straightway said the seer : "We clearly see a foreign hero's 
 advent, a troop from the same quarter comes to the same quarters and 
 lords it over the crown of the citadel." Further, as the maiden Lavinia 
 standing by her father lights the altar-fire with holy torches, she seemed 
 as by a miracle to catch in her flowing locks the flame, whilst all her 
 head-dress burnt with waving fire ; lighted was the hair of the princess, 
 lighted was the crown, with jewels set : enveloped in smoke and wrapped 
 in yellow light she scattered fire through all the palace. They said this 
 was sent a portent dreadful, and marvellous in appearance ; for they 
 predicted illustrious renown and destiny to the lady herself, but that to 
 the nation the omen portended a great war. These prodigies disturbed 
 the king, and so he goes to the oracle of Faunus his prophetic sire, and 
 consults"the groves 'neath high Albunea ; which is the greatest of woods, 
 resounding with the murmur of its holy fountain, and breathing forth 
 from its dark shade a strong mephitic exhalation. From this grove the 
 nations of Italy, and all the land of (Enotria look for responses, when 
 in perplexity. Hither the priest brings his gifts, and as silent night 
 draws on, lies on a bed of skins and woos sleep ; then he sees many 
 phantoms flitting in wondrous wise, and hears manifold voices, and enjoys 
 the converse of gods, and addresses the powers of Acheron let loose 
 through deep Avernus. Here too at this time father Latinus, coming for 
 oracular response, offered in due form an hundred woolly sheep, and lay 
 raised on their skins and on a bed of fleeces ; suddenly a voice came forth 
 from the deep grove : "Aim not to unite your daughter in Latin wedlock, 
 O my offspring, nor trust the marriage ready to hand ; from abroad will 
 come sons-in-law, who by the children of their blood will raise our name 
 to the stars, grandsons of whose stock will see the universe swayed and 
 
180 VIRGIL. [VII. ioo— 
 
 ruled beneath their feet, where'er the sun in forward and backward 
 course visits either ocean." This response of father Faunus, and warn- 
 ings given in the silent night, Latinus does not. keep within his lips, 
 but Fame flying far and wide had already carried them round about 
 through the Italian towns, when the Trojan youth moored their ships on 
 the grassy mound of the river's bank. 
 
 107 — 147. The prophecy of the Harpy Celaeno that seemed so dreadful \ 
 is fulfilled by a playful remark of the boy lulus. The happy Trojans 
 feel they have reached the goal of their wanderings. 
 ^Eneas and the foremost captains and fair lulus rest their limbs 
 beneath the branches of a lofty tree, and set their meal in order, and 
 place their banquets on cakes of barley meal along the ground; so 
 Jove who had foretold did now advise, and on a ground of grain they 
 pile the fruits of the field. It chanced that here they had consumed 
 all else, and so the want of food forced them to turn to eat their scanty 
 cakes of grain, and with hands and venturous jaw to invade the circle 
 of the crust, in which the fates were bound, and not to spare the broad 
 squares of cake : " See ! our tables now we devour," quoth lulus ; nor 
 said more in playful joke. That speech when heard first shewed the 
 end to toil, and no sooner was it uttered by the speaker, than his father 
 caught it from his mouth, and awe-struck at heaven's will stopped his 
 further speech ; forthwith he said : " Hail, O land which the fates owe 
 me, and ye, O faithful Penates of Troy, hail ; here is our home, this 
 is our country. For my father Anchises, now I recall it to mind, left 
 to me such secrets of fate : ' When, my son, hunger shall force you, 
 driven to unknown shores- in the day that your meal is short, to devour 
 your tables, then may you hope for a home after weary wandering, 
 and there remember first to build your houses with your hand, and 
 fortify them with a rampart.' This then turns out to be the hunger 
 then foretold ; this is the last that awaited us, destined to put an end 
 to our deadly losses. Come then, and joyfully at the dawning light of 
 the sun let us search what lands these are, who dwell therein, where is 
 the city of the nation, and let us go to explore in different directions from 
 the harbour. Now pour from bowls a libation to Jove, and with prayers 
 invite my father Anchises, and again set cups of wine on the tables." 
 So he spake, and next he wreathes his temples with leafy bough, and 
 prays to the genius of the spot, and to Earth the first of all the gods, 
 and to the Nymphs, and to the streams as yet unknown ; then he 
 invokes Night, and the rising stars of Night, and Jove of Ida, and the 
 Phrygian mother in due order, and his two parents, one in heaven, the 
 other in Erebus. Thereupon the Almighty Father thrice in the cloudless 
 sky thundered from on high to the left, and with his own hand shook 
 the cloud glowing with golden rays of light, and displayed it in the 
 firmament. Hereupon a sudden rumour spreads through the Trojan 
 troops, of the advent of the day on which it was fated they should 
 found their walls. With zeal they solemnize the feast, and joyful at 
 the mighty omen they set their goblets, and crown their wine with 
 garlands. 
 
VII. I94-] THE ^.NEID. 181 
 
 148 — 194. When morning comes 07'ators are sent to Latinus; the camp 
 is fortified. A desc?'iptio7i of the hardy Italians, and of the simple 
 palace of the king. 
 
 As soon as the next day arose, and visited the earth with its early 
 beam, in different directions they search out the city and its territory, 
 and the coasts of the people ; this they learn is the pool of the fountain 
 Numicius, this river is the Tiber, here dwell the brave Latins. Then 
 the son of Anchises orders a hundred orators chosen from every rank 
 to go to the august city of the king ; they were all veiled with boughs 
 of Minerva's tree, and were to bring gifts to the monarch, and to sue 
 grace for the Trojans. There is no delay, they hasten as they are 
 bid, and onwards go with rapid feet. /Eneas himself marks out his 
 walls with a shallow trench, and lays the foundations of the place ; 
 and encircles his first settlement on the shore with turrets and a mound 
 after the manner of a camp. And by this time the youths had finished 
 their journey, and now they descry the towers and lofty houses of the 
 Latin town, and draw near to the wall. In front of the town boys and 
 young men in the early flower of life are being trained in horsemanship, 
 and break in horses amid the dust, or try to stretch strong bows, or 
 hurl darts of tough wood with their arms, and challenge one another 
 to run and throw. Then riding forward on his steed a messenger 
 reports to the ears of the aged king that mighty heroes have arrived 
 clad in unknown dress ; the monarch orders them to be summoned 
 within his palace, and takes his seat in the centre on his ancestral 
 throne. A palace august, ample, supported on a hundred tall pillars, 
 stood in the citadel, the royal castle of Laurentian Picus, made awful 
 by its woods and by the religious dread of their forefathers. In this 
 palace the kings with happy omen used to receive their sceptre, and 
 first bear the fasces aloft ; this house of the curiae was a temple for 
 them, this was the hall for their holy feasts ; in this they slew the 
 ram, and here the fathers used to take their seats at the long tables. 
 Further too, here were the images of their ancient forefathers in suc- 
 cession, carved out of old cedar ; both Italus, and father Sabinus, who 
 first planted the vine, (he still holds his crooked pruning-hook beneath 
 his statue,) and the old god Saturn, and the image of Janus, him of 
 the double forehead ; these all were standing at the vestibule, and other 
 kings from the beginning of the race, and patriots, who for their country 
 had suffered wounds in war. Besides, many suits of armour were hung 
 up on the door, chariots taken in war, bent battle-axes, and helmet 
 plumes, and bulky bars of gates, javelins and shields and beaks, the 
 spoils of ships. Picus himself the tamer of wild steeds sat there with 
 the crooked wand of Ouirinus, girt in his short robe, in his left hand 
 he had his oval shield ; whom Circe wooed possessed by passion's 
 power, then struck him with her golden wand, and with her drugs 
 transformed him into a bird, sprinkled with pie-bald colours on his 
 wings. Within such a noble temple of the goddess, seated on the seat 
 of his forefathers, did Latinus summon the Trojans to his presence 
 in the palace, and, when they were admitted, he thus first spake with 
 voice composed. 
 
1 82 VIRGIL. [VII. 195— 
 
 195 — 211. Latinus knows who the strangers are. He gives them a 
 
 kindly reception. 
 "Sons of Dardanus, your city and race are not unknown to us, and we 
 have heard of you, who hither o'er the sea direct your course ; tell me, 
 what is your aim? What reason brings your fleet? In need of what 
 come ye to Italian coast o'er so many dark blue waters? Was it ignorance 
 of your course, or storms that drove you — such are the many mishaps 
 mariners meet with in the deep — that you have entered between the banks 
 of our river, and are now resting in the harbour? Shun not our hospit- 
 able welcome, nor be ignorant of us Latins, true children of Saturn, 
 who are not righteous by constraint of laws, but of our own free will 
 abide by the customs of the ancient god. And indeed I can remember — 
 though time the tale obscures — that the old Aurunci so told, how that 
 from these fields sprang Dardanus, and hence penetrated to the cities 
 of Phrygia near mount Ida, and to Thracian Samos, now Samothracia 
 called. He started hence from his Etruscan home at Corythus, and now 
 the golden palace of the starry firmament receives him on his throne, and 
 adds to the numbers of the gods by the altars raised to him." 
 212—248. Ilioneus the spokesman briefly tells the tale of Troy's disasters, 
 their own humble wishes ', the fates that they followed, and offers the 
 gifts of jtEneas. 
 
 So spake the king, whose words Ilioneus thus followed: "O monarch, 
 of the glorious race of Faunus, neither has dark storm driven us o'er the 
 waves, and forced us to take refuge in your land, nor has any constellation 
 or any shore misled us from our straight course : it was of set purpose 
 and with free choice of mind that we are all come to this city; we, who 
 are exiles from that kingdom which once the sun in its journeys from the 
 lowest line of heaven used to behold the greatest on earth. From Jove 
 is the origin of our race ; in Jove their forefather the Dardan youth rejoice; 
 from Jove by noblest descent comes our king himself, yEneas of Troy, 
 who has sent us to your threshold. How great a tempest burst from cruel 
 Mycenas, and passed o'er the plains of Ida, by what destinies driven 
 either continent of Europe and Asia clashed in conflict, the man has 
 heard, whoe'er he be, whom the farthest land removes by the ocean that 
 spreads afar, and if there be any, whom the zone of the torrid sun lying 
 in the midst of the four zones divides from us. From that deluge of 
 destruction we have been borne o'er the watery waste, and beg for a humble 
 home for our country's gods, and a harmless strip of land, and air and 
 water free to all alike. We shall be no dishonour to your realm ; nor 
 will your renown be spread as slight, or the gratitude of such a kindness 
 ever be forgot ; nor will Italy repent of having welcomed Troy in the 
 bosom of her soil. By the destinies of ^Eneas and by his right hand of 
 power, whether in faith and peace, or in war and arms any one has 
 experienced it, I swear that many are the people, many are the nations — 
 despise us not, because we come to you bearing in our hands these fillets 
 before us, and sue with words of prayer — who have courted us, and 
 wished to unite with us: but the revealed will of Heaven has forced 
 us by its commands diligently to seek your land. Hence Dardanus is 
 sprung, hither he returns, and by mighty mandates Apollo is urgent that j 
 
VII. 289.] THE JENEID. 183 
 
 we should come to Tuscan Tiber and the holy water of the fountain 
 Numicius. Further, our king sends you gifts, humble tokens of his former 
 fortunes, relics rescued from the fires of Troy. With this golden bowl 
 Anchises used to pour libations at the altars, these did Priam wear, when 
 he summoned his people in due form to give them laws, even this sceptre, 
 and holy tiara, and these robes, the workmanship of the daughters of Ilium." 
 249 — 285. Latinus is stirred in his religious soul by the recollection of 
 oracles and ojnens. He even promises his daughter to the stranger, 
 and sends gifts to the camp. 
 
 At these words of Ilioneus, Latinus keeps his face fixed downwards in 
 a steady gaze, and remains motionless in his place, rolling his musing 
 eyes, nor does the broidered purple so much move the king, nor Priam's 
 sceptre so much move him, as are his thoughts centred on his daughter's 
 union in marriage, while he weighs within his soul the oracle of ancient 
 Faunus, saying to himself: "This is that great son-in-law whom the fates 
 portend as coming from a foreign home, summoned to reign here with 
 auspices of equal rule ; this is he whose issue will be glorious in merit, 
 one which will by its might take possession of the whole world." At 
 length he gladly says: "May the gods bless our purpose, and their own 
 auguries! I will grant, Trojan, what you wish; nor do I slight your 
 gifts. You shall not, so long as Latinus is king, want the fruitful soil of 
 a rich land, or miss the abundance of Troy. Only let ^Eneas come 
 hither in person ? if such is his desire to know me, if he is eager to be 
 united with me by ties of hospitality, and would have the name of ally ; 
 he need not dread the countenance of a friend; part of the peace it will be 
 to touch your monarch's hand. On your part do you now report to your 
 king my mandates : I have a daughter ; to unite her to a husband of our 
 race, neither the oracles from the shrine of my father nor many prodigies in 
 the heavens allow ; that a son-in-law will hither come from foreign coasts, 
 this is what they foretell awaits the Latins, such as shall raise our name 
 to the stars by his issue. That this is he, the man whom the fates 
 demand, I both believe, and, if my soul presages aught of truth, I hope." 
 
 The father speaks, and chooses steeds from all his stud. There were 
 standing three hundred glossy horses in his high stables. Forthwith for 
 all the Trojans he commands that they be led forth in order, wing-footed 
 chargers, caparisoned with purple and broidered housings ; golden are the 
 collars that hang suspended from their breasts, of gold are their coverings, 
 yellow gold they champ betwixt their teeth. To his absent guest ^Eneas he 
 sends a chariot, and a pair of chariot-horses, of heavenly breed, breathing 
 from their nostrils fire, of the race of those which Circe, cunning in works 
 of art, deceiving her father, reared of bastard brood from a mare she 
 introduced. By such gifts and such words of Latinus the men of ./Eneas 
 elated return riding on their horses, and carry back tidings of peace. 
 286 — 322. All seems prosperous, when Juno beholds the hated race 
 safely landed at the mouth of the Tiber. She bursts into a passion of 
 rage. She will move even Hell itself 'against her ene?nies. 
 
 But lo ! the cruel wife of Jove was returning from Argos, the town of 
 Inachus, and was riding in her chariot in mid heaven ; and from the sky 
 far off, even from Sicilian Pachynus, she descried yEneas now rejoicing 
 
184 VIRGIL. [VII. 290— 
 
 and his Dardan fleet. She sees that they are now founding their houses, 
 that now they trust the land ; that they have abandoned their ships. She 
 stopped, as one possessed by fierce passions : then shook her head, and 
 poured forth these words from her breast : " Ah ! race I hate, and Phrygian 
 fates that counter run to mine! Could they not fall on the plains of 
 Sigeum? Could not the captured be led captive? Could not the fire of 
 Troy be their funeral pyre? Through the midst of armies in battle array, 
 through the midst of flames they have found a path. But, I suppose, my 
 heavenly powers are wearied out at last and helpless lie, or, my wrath sated 
 to the full, I now can rest. Nay, but I dared to follow them driven forth 
 from their country, and persecuted them o'er the waves, and threw myself 
 in the way of the exiles over the whole sea. I have spent against the 
 Trojans all the powers of sky and sea. How did the Syrtes, or Scylla, or 
 vast Charybdis help me? They wished for Tiber's bed, there are they 
 hidden from danger, they care not now for the ocean or for me. Mars 
 had power to destroy the monstrous race of the Lapithse ; the father of 
 the gods himself surrendered to Diana ancient Calydon, that she might 
 glut her rage. What crime of the Lapithse or of Calydon deserved so 
 great a punishment? But I, Jove's mighty consort, who could bear to leave 
 nothing untried, luckless as I am ; who have turned myself to every device, 
 am vanquished by ^Eneas! Now if my divine powers be not strong 
 enough, surely I must not doubt to implore the help of any might that 
 anywhere exists : if heaven I cannot bend, then hell I'll wake. Be it so, 
 that I must not keep him from his Latin realm, and Lavinia must be his 
 spouse, and nought can change the fates : yet to put off that day, and to 
 delay such great events, is mine ; yet may I exterminate the people of 
 either king. With such a price of their subjects' lives let son and father- 
 in-law buy their union. Blood of Trojans and Rutulians shall be your 
 dowry, maiden ; Bellona waits for you, to be your bridesmaid ; nor was Cis- 
 seus' daughter alone pregnant with a brand, and alone brought forth flames 
 in wedlock ; nay, the same to Venus is her own offspring, a second Paris 
 is her son, and funeral torches again are lighted to burn a second Troy." 
 323 — 340. Juno calls up from the lower world the fury Alecto. 
 When she had uttered these words the dread goddess descended to 
 earth ; she rouses Alecto, worker of woe, from the abode of her accursed 
 sisters, and from the nether darkness ; to whose heart baneful wars are 
 dear, passions, plots, and crimes of mischief. Hateful is she even to her 
 father Pluto, hateful is the monster even to her hellish sisters ; into so 
 many forms does she change, so dreadful are her shapes, so black the 
 blood of many snakes which she bears. Her Juno inflames with these 
 words, speaking thus : "Virgin daughter of Night, give me this labour 
 with all thy heart, this service, lest my honour or glory be enfeebled and 
 have to give way, and lest ^Eneas and his friends be able to court 
 Latinus with this wedlock, and occupy Italian lands. Thou canst arm to 
 strife united brethren, and trouble homes with hate ; thou canst bring 
 scourges and funeral torches into houses; thou hast a thousand ways, 
 a thousand arts of mischief : stir up thy inventive soul ! Tear in sunder 
 the compact of peace, sow seeds of wicked war ; let the youth at the same 
 moment wish for and demand and snatch up arms." 
 
VII. 3 8 9 .] 
 
 THE ^ENEID. 
 
 1*5 
 
 341 — 403. Alecto first fills the heai't of the queen with fury against 
 JEneas and the 'intended marriage. The queen stirs the inatrons with 
 a frenzy as of Bacchanalian revellers. 
 Forthwith Alecto imbrued with Gorgonian poison, first flies to Latinus 
 and the lofty palace of the Laurentian king, and straightway besieges the 
 peaceful threshold of Amata, whom, concerning the arrival of the Trojans 
 and marriage of Turnus, the pains and passions of a woman inflamed to 
 rage. On her the goddess throws one of the snakes from her dark 
 hair, and sends it into her breast, into her inmost heart, that, full of 
 frenzy by this monster, she might confound the whole house. The 
 serpent gliding between her garments and smooth breast, crawls along 
 unfelt, unknown to the maddened queen, breathing into her its snakish 
 breath ; the huge snake transforms itself into her twisted golden 
 necklace, into the ribbon of her long fillet, and entwines itself into her 
 hair, and with slimy coils creeps o'er her limbs. Now whilst the venom 
 in its beginning stealthily glides with flowing poison, and thrills her 
 feelings and wraps her bones with fire, before her soul had yet con- 
 ceived the flame in its height within her whole breast, in softer tones, 
 after the usual manner of mothers she spake, with many a tear, about 
 her daughter, and the Phrygian marriage : "Is then Lavinia to be 
 handed over as a spouse to houseless Trojans, O father? have you no 
 pity for your daughter or yourself, or for a mother either, whom, when 
 the first wind blows, the perfidious pirate will abandon, and sail out 
 to sea, and carry the damsel off? Was it not even thus that the 
 Phrygian shepherd penetrated to Lacedasmon, and bore Helen the 
 daughter of Leda off to the Trojan cities ? What is become of your 
 oath, and religious promise ? what of your old regard for your kindred 
 and the right hand you so often pledged to your kinsman Turnus? If 
 what you look for is a son-in-law of descent foreign to the Latins, and 
 that is settled, and the commands of your parent Faunus constrain you, 
 whatever land is free and distinct from our rule, I for my part account 
 as foreign, and so interpret heaven's decree. Indeed to Turnus, if we 
 trace back the early origin of his house, his forefathers are Inachus 
 and Acrisius, and his country in the heart of Mycenae." When with 
 these words she had in vain tried to work on Latinus, and finds that 
 he is proof against them, and when the maddening mischief of the 
 snake had glided deep into her heart, and pervaded her whole soul ; 
 then indeed the unhappy queen, stirred by mighty portents, infuriated 
 past control, rages through the length and breadth of the city ; as oft 
 a top flies beneath the twisted whip, which boys intent on the game 
 lash in a great circle through an empty hail ; the top driven by the 
 thong is borne along its winding course ; above stand in amazed 
 astonishment the youthful band, in admiration of the whirling top ; the 
 blows give it fresh speed. With course as swift the queen is borne along 
 through the centre of the city amidst the warlike people. Nay forth 
 into the forest she flies, she feigns the inspiration of Bacchus, she 
 ventures on a greater crime, she enters on greater frenzy, and hides 
 her daughter in the woody mountains ; that she might rob the Trojans of 
 their marriage, and delay the nuptial rites ; u Evoe, Bacche!" is her raging 
 
186 VIRGIL. [VII. 390— 
 
 cry, " thou alone art a worthy husband for the maiden !" So she shouts. 
 "Indeed for thee/' she says, "my daughter carries the waving thyrsus, 
 thee my daughter celebrates in the dance, for thee she nourishes the 
 sacred locks." Fame flies before, and the same frenzy inflames the breasts 
 of the matrons with frenzy, and drives them all together in search of 
 strange homes. They abandon their houses, they bare their necks and 
 hair to the winds. But others fill the sky with tremulous cries, and clad 
 in skins bear wands with vine-leaves crowned. The queen herself in 
 the centre with fury lifts a blazing torch, and sings in her daughter's 
 and Turnus' name the nuptial song, rolling her blood-shot glaring eyes ; 
 and sudden fiercely shrieks ; "Lo! ye Latin dames, hear me, where'er 
 you be, if in your loving souls there is still any regard for unhappy 
 Amata, if a care for a mother's natural rights still touches your souls, 
 loose the bands of your locks, and with me begin the orgies." 
 404 — 474. Next Alecto goes to Turnus. She takes the form of an old 
 
 priestess. Turnus derides her womanish fears, but the Fury reveals 
 herself in hellish form; the young man springs from his bed full of 
 rage ; he rouses the spirit of the Rutulians. 
 
 In such wise amidst the forests and desert haunts of wild beasts 
 Alecto drives the queen hither and thither by the stings of Bacchic rage. 
 When she judged she had made fierce enough the first fits of frenzy, and 
 had overthrown the purposes and all the house of Latinus, straightway 
 the baneful goddess rises thence on her dusky pinions to the walls of the 
 daring Rutulian, to the town which is said to have been founded for set- 
 tlers of Acrisius by Danae, borne fleetly thither by a wafting wind. The 
 town was in days of yore named Ardea by our ancestors, and Ardea still 
 retains its ancient name ; but its former fortune is past. Here in his lofty 
 palace in the middle of the dark night Turnus enjoyed quiet sleep. Alecto 
 lays aside a Fury's fierce face and limbs; she is transformed, and takes the 
 countenance of an old woman, and her ugly forehead is furrowed with 
 wrinkles ; she appears to have grey hair bound with a fillet, and wreathed 
 with an olive bough ; she changes herself into Calybe, the old priestess 
 of the temple of Juno, and rises before the eyes of the young man, and 
 speaks these words : " Turnus, will you be content to waste so many 
 toils in vain, and see your sceptre transferred to Dardan settlers ? The 
 king refuses you your bride, and dowry bought by blood, and seeks for 
 a foreigner as heir to his realm. Go to, expose yourself to danger, to 
 meet with ingratitude and scorn ; go now, and lay low the hosts of Etru- 
 ria ; shield the Latins with peace. This is the very message which to 
 you lying in placid slumber the almighty daughter of Saturn bids me 
 plainly tell. Wherefore bestir yourself, and glad to take up arms make 
 ready to arm the youth, and to lead them forth from the gates, and 
 slay the Trojan captains, who have made their station in the fair river, 
 and burn their painted ships. The mighty power of Heaven bids you 
 do this. Let king Latinus himself, unless he consents to give you your 
 bride, and obey your words, at length feel and know what Turnus is 
 in arms." 
 
 Thereupon the young man, mocking the priestess, thus replies to her 
 speech with these words : " The news of the fleet which has sailed into the 
 
VII. 487.] THE jENEID. 187 
 
 Tiber's stream, has not, as you suppose, escaped my knowledge ; do 
 not alarm me with such idle terrors ; nor has queen Juno forgotten me. 
 But old age, o'ercome with torpid sloth and barren of truth, troubles 
 you, mother, with idle cares, and mocks you, a priestess, with fancied 
 fears amongst armed kings. Your duty is to guard the images and temples 
 of the gods ; leave war and peace to men, war must be waged by men." 
 
 At such words as these Alecto burst into fury. Then as the young 
 man spake a sudden tremor seizes his limbs ; his eyes grow stiff through 
 fear ; so many are the snakes with which the Fury hisses, so dire a form 
 is shewn. Then rolling her eyes of flame, she cast him backward, as he 
 hesitated and sought for words to speak, and high on her head she 
 raised a pair of snakes, and cracked her whip, and uttered these words 
 from her rabid mouth : " Lo ! I am she o'ercome with torpid sloth, whom 
 old age barren of truth makes to dote with fancied fears amidst armed 
 kings. Give heed to these words : I am come from the abode of my 
 . accursed sisters, in my hand I bear war and death." She spake, and 
 hurled her brand upon the young man, and fixed beneath his heart her 
 torch which smoked with lurid light. A great terror broke his sleep ; and 
 a sweat that burst o'er his whole body bathed his bones and limbs. 
 Frenzied he shrieks for arms ; he looks for his arms in his chamber 
 and in his halls. The love of the sword and the wicked madness of 
 war rage in his soul, and wrath besides ; as when the flame of a fire of 
 twigs roaring loudly is placed beneath the sides of a seething caldron ; 
 with heat the waters bubble ; within rages the struggling water, steam- 
 ing and surging high with foam ; then the bubbling wave boils over ; the 
 thick steam flies to the air. So then he enjoins the chieftains of the 
 youth to violate the peace, and march to king Latinus, and bids arms to 
 be prepared, saying they must guard Italy, and push the enemy from their 
 coasts ; that he himself would be found a match for Trojans and Latins 
 united. When he had spoken these words, and called the gods to hear 
 his vows, the Rutulians vie in exhorting one another to arms. One is 
 moved by the noble beauty of the youthful form of the prince, another by 
 his royal forefathers, another by the glorious exploits of his hand. 
 475—539. Thirdly, Alecto goes to the woods. A pet deer of the daughter 
 
 of the ranger of the woods is wounded by lulus. Then the rustics are 
 
 enraged. The fiend blows her horn. A battle is fought, a?id blood is 
 
 shed. 
 While Turnus fills the hearts of the Rutulians with daring spirits, 
 Alecto speeds on her hellish wings towards the Trojans, with new fraud 
 observing the ground, where on the shore fair lulus is hunting the wild 
 animals with snares and riders. Here the goddess of Cocytus throws in 
 the way of the hounds a source of sudden rage, and fills their nostrils with 
 the familiar scent, that they may pursue a stag in hot chase ; this was 
 the first cause of woes, and first inflamed the souls of the rustics for 
 war. There was a stag of surprising beauty with tall antlers, which, 
 snatched from its dam, was reared by the boys the sons of Tyrrheus, and 
 by their father Tyrrheus, who was ranger of the royal herds, and to whom 
 was entrusted the care of the plains far and wide. Taught to obey com- 
 mand was the stag, which their sister Sylvia with much attention would 
 
VIRGIL. [VII. 488- 
 
 often adorn, twining its horns with pliant garlands, and combed its hair, 
 and bathed it in the pure fountain. It, trained to bear the hand, and 
 accustomed to its master's table, would wander in the woods ; and back 
 again returned of its own accord to the familiar threshold however late 
 the night. As it was wandering far from home, the eager hounds of 
 the huntsman lulus started it, as it chanced to float down the stream, 
 or cooled its heat on the grassy bank. Ascanius too, fired with the love 
 of noble fame, himself shot an arrow from his bent bow ; nor did the god 
 suffer his hand to miss, and the reed flying with a loud whiz passed 
 through the belly and flanks of the stag. But the wounded animal took 
 refuge w T ithin the familiar house, and moaning took shelter in its stall, 
 and all bathed in blood, and like one that begged for pity, with cries it 
 filled the whole house. Sister Sylvia beating her breast with her hands, 
 first prays for aid, and calls together the hardy rustics. They, for the 
 fierce fiend lurks in the silent woods, suddenly appear ; one armed with 
 a brand burnt at the end, another with a heavy knotty club ; what each 
 finds as he searches, that rage makes a weapon. Tyrrheus calls his 
 bands ; it so chanced he was cleaving an oak in four parts with a 
 wedge driven in ; he snatches up a hatchet, he breathes fury. But the 
 cruel goddess from the place of her watch having found the moment for 
 mischief, flies to the steep roof of a hut, and from the top of the thatch 
 she blows to give the shepherd's signal, and on the crooked horn strains 
 her hellish voice, at which forthwith all the wood shook, and the forests 
 echoed from their depths. The sacred lake of Trivia heard the sound 
 from afar ; Nar heard the sound, a river white with sulphureous water, 
 and the sources of the mere Velinus ; and mothers start, and press their 
 infants to their breasts. Then swiftly to the summons, where the dread 
 trumpet gave the signal, from every quarter rush together, with weapons 
 quickly seized, the sturdy tillers of the soil ; moreover also the Trojan 
 youth, to aid Ascanius, pour forth from the open gates of the camp. 
 They fight in battle array. It is come to this, that they contend not in 
 rustic fight, nor with hard clubs or stakes, whose points are hardened in 
 the fire ; but they decide the struggle with the two-edged sword, and the 
 dark harvest of war bristles with drawn weapons, and the brazen armour 
 gleams struck with the sun, and throws the light up to the clouds : as 
 when a wave begins to shew white foam, as the wind rises, little by 
 little does the sea swell, and lifts its waves higher and higher; at last 
 it rises in a mass to the sky from its lowest depths. Here in the first 
 ranks by a whizzing arrow the youth Almon, the eldest of the sons of 
 Tyrrheus, is laid low ; for the weapon that gave the wound was fixed 
 within his throat, and choked the passage of the flexible voice and the 
 delicate breath of his life with blood. Many fell around, and old Galae- 
 sus too, who threw himself between the ranks to speak for peace, in those 
 days of old the most righteous and wealthiest in the fields of Italy; five 
 bleating flocks, as many herds, were his property, with a hundred ploughs 
 he tilled his farm. 
 540—571. The Fury exults in her success, and promises greater things 
 
 still, but Juno warns her to depart: and the fiend returns to Stygian 
 
 darkness. 
 
VII. 59».] THE ^NEID. 189 
 
 And thus whilst this battle is being fought in the plains with doubtful 
 issue, the goddess having made good her promise, after she had inaugurated 
 the war with blood, and begun the first fight by death, leaves Italy, and 
 turning her course through the air of heaven, with haughty voice, as one 
 victorious, addresses Juno : " See, for thee discord is complete by baneful 
 war; now bid them unite in friendship, and join in compact, seeing that 
 I have sprinkled the Trojans with Italian blood. Further I will add this 
 to what I have done, if I am assured of thy will : by rumours I will bring 
 neighbouring cities to the war, and kindle their souls with the love of 
 maddening Mars, so that they may flock to help ; I will scatter arms 
 over the fields." Then Juno answered: "Of terror and fraud there is 
 more than enough; sown are the seeds of war; they fight hand to hand 
 with arms ; chance first put arms in their hands ; now fresh blood has 
 stained them. Such a marriage and such a nuptial song may now be 
 celebrated by that noble son of Venus and king Latinus in person. But 
 - that thou shouldest wander with more lawless freedom in the air of hea- 
 ven the mighty Father, the supreme king of Olympus, would not permit. 
 Give place, and quit the field. I, whatever fortune and trouble still re- 
 mains, myself will guide all." So spake the child of Saturn. The Fury 
 raises her whizzing snakish wings, and flies to her home by Cocytus, and 
 leaves the upper heights of air. There is a place in the heart of Italy be- 
 neath high mountains, well known, and told of by rumour in many a 
 land, the valley of Amsanctus ; the dark side of a wood hems it in on 
 either hand with thick foliage, and in the centre a roaring torrent resounds 
 o'er the rocks with whirling eddies. Here a dreadful cavern is shown as 
 the vent of cruel Dis, and a mighty gulf, through which bursts Acheron, 
 opening its jaws fraught with pestilence ; in it the Fury hides herself, a 
 fiend abhorred, and relieves earth and heaven. 
 
 572 — 600. The shepherds, Turnus, and the matrons demand war. Latinus 
 alone resists, but finding his efforts vain, shuts himself up in his 
 palace. 
 
 Nor with less zeal meanwhile does the queen, the child of Saturn, put 
 the last hand to the war. To the city from the field of battle rush the 
 whole crowd of shepherds, bearing the slain with them, the boy Almon, 
 and Galaesus disfigured by his wounds, and implore the gods, and conjure 
 Latinus. Turnus is there, and in the midst of the charge of slaughter, 
 and in the fire of discord aggravates the terror; crying — "The Trojans 
 are foisted into the kingdom, a mongrel brood of Phrygians is mingled 
 with us, I am driven from this door." Then they, whose mothers frenzied 
 by Bacchus bound over the pathless woods in dances, for of no mean 
 power was Amata's name, collected from every quarter meet, and im- 
 portunately demand war. Straightway with one consent all, against the 
 omen, against the oracles of the gods, with the will of heaven adverse, 
 clamour for unholy war. Eagerly they* crowd round the palace of king 
 Latinus. He resists, like an immoveable rock of the sea, like a rock of 
 the sea, when a mighty roaring storm is coming on, which holds itself 
 by its mass amidst many waves blustering around ; in vain do the cliffs 
 and crags covered with foam resound on every side, and r the sea-weed 
 dashed against the sides is washed back. But when no power was given 
 
190 VIRGIL. [VII. 592 — 
 
 him to overcome their blind purpose, and events followed the will of 
 cruel Juno ; the father of his people often calls to witness the gods, and 
 the air in which there was no divinity to help, and says, " Alas we are 
 shipwrecked by fate, and are borne before the storm ! yourselves will pay 
 with your sacrilegious blood the atonement of this guilt, wretched men. 
 You, Turnus, will await the end of your impiety, an awful punishment, 
 and you will worship Heaven with vows, but all too late. For I have 
 gained my rest, and I am quite at the entrance of my haven ; a happy 
 death is all I lose." He spake no more, but shut himself in his palace, 
 and abandoned the reins of government. 
 
 601 — 628. Then Juno opens the gates of War. Italy is excited. 
 
 There was a custom in Italian Latium, which thenceforward in suc- 
 cession of time the Alban towns observed as sacred, in these days Rome 
 the mistress of the world observes, when first they move Mars forth to 
 battle, be it Getae or Arabs or Hyrcanians against whom they prepare to 
 wage with force tearful war, or to march to India, and press on to the 
 home of the Morning, and claim back from the Parthians the captured 
 standards. There are twin gates of War, such is their name, hallowed by 
 religious awe, and the dread of fierce Mars ; a hundred bronze bolts close 
 them, and the eternal strength of iron-plated oak, nor does the guardian 
 Janus ever leave the threshold. Of these gates, when the senate has fully 
 determined on war, the consul, conspicuous in the state robe of Quirinus, 
 and girded in Gabine fashion, with his own hand unbars the creaking 
 threshold ; he himself summons to battle ; then follow the crowd of 
 youths ; and horns of brass breathe forth their hoarse accord. In obe- 
 dience to this custom, on that day Latinus was bidden to make procla- 
 mation of war against the men of ^Eneas, and to throw open the fatal 
 portals ; the father of his people would not so much as touch them, and 
 turning away shrunk back from the ill-omened duty, and hid himself in 
 dark obscurity. 
 
 Thereupon heaven's queen, the daughter of Saturn, descended from 
 the sky, and with her own hand pushed the lingering gates, and 
 turned the hinge, and burst open the iron-bound portals of War. In a 
 blaze is Italy, unexcited and unmoved before; some prepare to march 
 o'er the plain on foot ; others mounted on tall steeds rage enveloped in 
 clouds of dust ; all clamour for arms. Some with fat grease polish their 
 shields, and rub their darts till they shine, and point their battle-axes on 
 whetstones ; gladly they carry standards, and catch the notes of the 
 blowing horns. 
 
 629 — 640. Five great cities prepare war. 
 
 As many as five great cities place anvils, and forge new weapons ; 
 Atina, powerful town, and proud Tibur, Ardea, Crustumeri, and Autennae 
 with her crown of towers. They hollow helmets safely to protect their 
 heads, and weave wicker shields with bosses out of osier; others beat out 
 brazen breastplates or polished greaves of ductile silver. To such an use 
 passes all the honour of the ploughshare and pruninghook, all the love 
 of the plough ; they remould the swords of their sires in the furnace. 
 And now the clarions sound the signal; the watchword passes round, 
 the token for the war. One from his hall hastily snatches his helmet ; 
 
VII. 686.] THE jENEID. 191 
 
 another yokes his snorting steeds, and takes his shield, and dons his 
 triple coat of mail, and girds on his trusty sword. 
 
 641 — 646. The Muses are invoked to recall the memory of events di?n 
 
 through antiquity. 
 
 Ye goddesses, now open Helicon, and wake your song, telling what 
 princes were roused by war, what troops in battle array followed each 
 chieftain, crowding in the plain ; with what heroes Italy, a prolific land, 
 flourished even in those early days, with what arms she burned : for you, 
 remember, Ladies, and you can tell what you remember ; to us a faint and 
 slight breeze of fame is hardly wafted. 
 
 647 — 654. The contrast between Mezentius and Lausus. 
 
 The first to enter war is a warrior fierce from Tuscan coasts, Mezentius, 
 the despiser of the gods ; he arms his troops. By his side marched his 
 son Lausus : there was not a fairer man, if you except the form of Lauren- 
 tian Turnus ; Lausus, the tamer of horses, the conqueror of wild beasts 
 - in the hunt. A thousand men he leads, in vain they followed from 
 Agylla's town ; worthy he was of obeying a better father ; Mezentius 
 should not have been his sire. 
 
 655 — 669. Aventinus, the son of Hercules. 
 
 Next to these, handsome Aventinus, sprung from handsome Hercules, 
 displays o'er the sward his chariot, conspicuous with the prize of the race, 
 and his victorious steeds ; on his shield he bears a badge of his father's 
 labours, a hundred snakes, and Hydra with her belt of serpents ; him in 
 the wood of the Aventine Rhea the priestess brought forth in stealthy 
 birth to the regions of light, a woman united with a god, when the con- 
 queror, the hero of Tiryns, having slain Geryon, reached the Laurentian 
 fields, and bathed his Spanish oxen in the Tuscan stream. His men hold 
 javelins in their hands, and warlike pikes for the battle, and fight with 
 the sword tapering in a point, and the Sabine dart. The captain on 
 foot, swinging the huge lion's skin, with frightful uncombed bristles, with 
 its white teeth, which he wore o'er his head, even as he was, entered the 
 royal palace, rough and shaggy, with the Herculean dress fastened round 
 his shoulders. 
 
 670 — 677. Catillus and Coras, the brothers from Tibur. 
 
 Next the twin brothers leave the walls of Tibur, Catillus and Coras, 
 keen in fight, Argive youths, and in the front ranks amidst the thick 
 weapons on they come, like as when two Centaurs, born amidst the clouds, 
 descend from the lofty top of a mountain, in swift course leaving Omole, 
 and snowy Othrys ; as on they rush, the great forest gives place, and the 
 bushes yield with loud crash. 
 
 678 — 690. Caeculus, the son of Vulcan. 
 
 Nor was the founder of Praeneste's town wanting on that day, whom 
 every age has believed to have been born to Vulcan amidst the cattle of 
 the field, and to have been found an infant on the hearth ; his name was 
 Casculus. Him follows a rustic legion from a wide extent of country, both 
 the men who dwell in high Prseneste, and those who live in the fields of 
 Juno of Gabii, and by the cold Anio, and on the rocks of the Hernici 
 freshened with streams, those whom rich Anagnia feeds, or you, O father 
 Amasenus. They have not all armour, or shields, or rattling cars, the 
 
*9 2 VIRGIL. [VII. 687- 
 
 greater part of them throw balls of blue lead ; part carry two darts in 
 their hand, and wear for helmets tawny caps of wolf-skin ; bare is the 
 left foot as they march in measure along, a boot of raw hide protects the 
 right. 
 
 691 — 705. Messapus, the son of Neptune. 
 But Messapus, tamer of horses, the offspring of Neptune, who bears 
 a charmed life against death from fire or steel, suddenly summons to 
 arms the tribes that had been long inactive and unexercised in war, and 
 again handles the sword. These form the lines of Fescennium, and the 
 troops of the ^Equi Falisci, these hold the heights of Soracte and the fields 
 of Flavinium, and Ciminus, both mountain and lake, and the groves of 
 Capena. They marched in steady array, and sang of their king, as oft- 
 times snow-white swans amid the watery clouds, returning home from feed- 
 ing, and uttering musical notes from their long necks ; the noise resounds, 
 and the Asian meadow re-echoes far their cries. Nor would any one think 
 that from so long a line a body of armed men was thronging for battle 
 array ; but that high up in the air a cloud of noisy fowl was being driven 
 to the shores. 
 
 706 — 722. Clausus the Sabine y from whom was descended the Clandian 
 
 house. 
 Lo Clausus, leading a mighty troop of the ancient blood of the Sabines, 
 himself worth a mighty troop, from whom now is spread through 
 Latium the tribe and house of the Claudii, from the day that the Sabines 
 were admitted to a share of Rome. Together came the mighty cohort 
 of Amiternum, and the Prisci Quirites, the whole band of Eretum, 
 and all Mutuscae, olive-bearing town ; those who dwell in the city of 
 N omentum, and the country of Rosea by Velinus, and the rough rocks 
 of Tetrica and mount Severus, and Casperia, and Foruli, and those who 
 live by the stream of Himella ; those who drink the Tiber and Fabaris ; 
 those whom cool Nursia sent ; and the military classes of the state of 
 Hortia, and the Latin people ; and those whom Allia divides with its 
 flowing course, stream of unlucky name : as many waves as roll in the 
 African expanse of waters, when fierce Orion sets in the wintry waves ; 
 or as in early summer the thick standing ears turn their colour, either 
 in the flat plains of Hermus, or in the yellow corn-fields of Lycia. The 
 shields clash, and the ground trembles, stirred by the tramp of feet. 
 723 — 760. Ualesus, CEbalus, Ufens, Umbro. 
 Next Agamemnon's son, a natural foe to the Trojan name, Halesus, 
 yokes his steeds, and hurries to the field a thousand warlike men to 
 Turnus' aid ; who with mattocks turn the hills of Massicum fruitful in 
 Bacchus' gifts, and those whom from their high hills their Auruncian 
 sires sent, and those near the levels of Sidicinum, and those who leave 
 Cales and every dweller by the Volturnus, river of shoaly fords, and 
 with them Saticula's rough race, and the band of the Osci. Their 
 weapons are neatly-turned javelins, which it is their custom to fasten to 
 a flexible thong of leather. Their left hand a buckler protects ; in close 
 combat they use scimitars. 
 
 Nor shall you pass untold of in my verses, CEbalus, the son of Telon 
 by the nymph Sebethis, as tradition tells, in the days that he ruled 
 
VII. 784] THE &NEID. 193 
 
 Capreae of the Teleboans, now advanced in years ; but the son, dis- 
 daining his father's realm, even then held in his sway far and wide the 
 tribes of the Sarrastes, and the plains watered by the Sarnus, and those 
 who dwell in Rufaa and Batulus, and the fields of Celennae, and those 
 whom the walls of apple-bearing Abella look down upon : in Teutonic 
 fashion they used to throw their darts ; their head-pieces were bark 
 taken from the oak-tree, of bronze were their glittering crescent-shields, 
 of bronze each glittering sword. 
 
 You too, O Ufens, Nursae amidst the hills sent to the battle, a 
 warrior glorious in the renown of successful arms : whose people was 
 rugged above other tribes, trained to constant hunting in the woods, the 
 ^Equicoli, whose soil was stiff and hard. 
 
 Moreover from the Marruvian race came the priest, who on his helmet 
 wore for a plume the trimmed leaves of a fruitful olive ; he was sent by 
 king Archippus, bravest of the brave was he, named Umbro ; who 
 with the charms of song and hand used to shed sleep on the brood 
 of vipers, and venom-breathing Hydras, and assuaged their rage, and 
 cured their bites by skill. But the wound of the Trojan spear-point 
 he had not power to heal ; vain to help him against the blow were the 
 chants that lulled to sleep, and the herbs found on Marsian hills. The 
 pool of Anguitia wept for you, Fucinus with its glassy pool, the crystal 
 meres wept for you. 
 
 761 — 782. Virbius the son of Hippolytus the friend of the goddess 
 
 Diana. 
 
 There marched too to the war the fair child of Hippolytus, by name 
 Virbius, whom crowned with glory his mother Aricia sent, reared in 
 the groves of Egeria, round about its marshy shores, where is Diana's 
 altar rich with gifts and easily appeased. For they tell the tale, how 
 that Hippolytus, when he died by the falsehood of his stepmother and 
 with his blood satisfied the penalty that his father exacted, torn to pieces 
 by his frightened horses, yet again returned to see the stars of the 
 firmament and breathe the upper air, recalled to life by ^sculapian 
 herbs and by the love of Diana. But the Almighty Father could not 
 brook that any mortal man should rise from the nether shades to the 
 light of life, and with his own hand he cast with his thunderbolt down 
 to the waters of Styx the inventor of so daring a medicine and of such 
 a skill. But Trivia, kindly goddess, hides Hippolytus in a retired home, 
 and entrusts him to the nymph Egeria, and to the retreat of a grove, 
 where alone and in obscurity he might pass his days amid Italian woods, 
 and by a change of name be called Virbius. On this account too, 
 hoofed horses are kept far from Trivia's temple and hallowed woods, 
 because on the shore, frightened by the monsters of the deep, they 
 overthrew the chariot and dashed the youth on the ground. Yet not 
 the less for that did his son drive his fiery steeds on the level plain, and 
 in his chariot rush to the war. 
 
 783 — 802. Turnus himself in stature is higher than the rest: his helmet 
 
 and shield. 
 
 Turnus himself, warrior of surpassing form, is busy amidst the fore- 
 most, holding his arms, taller than the rest by his whole head. His 
 
 VIR. 13 
 
194 VIRGIL, [VII. 785 — 
 
 lofty helmet crested with triple plume bears aloft the Chimaera, breathing 
 from her jaws ^Etnean flames ; so much the more does she rage wildly 
 with baneful fires, as the more blood is shed and the battle waxes fiercer. 
 But his polished shield is adorned by Io with her lifted horns worked 
 on gold, she now is covered with bristly hair and has become a heifer, 
 (famous is the subject of the device) and there is the maiden's keeper, 
 Argus, and father Inachus pouring his river from embossed urn. Him 
 follow a cloud of infantry, and the shield-bearing troops throng over 
 the whole plain, and the Argive youth, the bands of Aurunci, the Rutuli 
 and old Sicani, and the battle array of the Sacrani, and the painted 
 bucklers of Labicum ; those who till your woods, Tiber, and the sacred 
 shore of Numicius, and cultivate with the plough-share the hills of the 
 Rutuli, and the ridges of Circaei ; where Jove of Anxur presides over 
 the fields, and Feronia rejoices in her green grove ; where lies the black 
 pool of Satura, and cool Ufens winds its course through the lowly vales, 
 and is lost in the sea. 
 803 — 817. The Volscian Camilla is a warrior-maiden, of miraculous 
 
 swiftness of foot. All gaze with admiration at the undaunted 
 
 virgin. 
 
 Last came Camilla from the people of the Volsci : she led a troop 
 of horse, and squadrons drest in glossy brass ; a warrior-woman ; her 
 woman's hands were not trained to the distaff or basket of Minerva, 
 but the maiden learnt to endure hard warfare, and in speed of foot 
 to outstrip the winds. She would either flee o'er the topmost blades 
 of the untouched corn, and lo ! the tender ears were uninjured by the 
 race ; or, over the mid sea, hung upon the swelling billow, she would 
 keep on her way, nor wet her nimble soles on the surface of the water. 
 Her all the youth pour forth from house and field to see, and crowding 
 matrons admire and gaze as she passes, open-mouthed with astonishment 
 of soul, marvelling how the regal grace of purple veils her smooth shoul- 
 ders, how a clasp entwines her locks with gold, how she herself wears 
 Lycian quiver, and pastoral shaft of myrtle tipped with javelin's point. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 I — 25. Turnus musters his forces, and sends an envoy to Diomede, 
 So soon as from the citadel of Laurentum Turnus raised aloft the sig- 
 nal of war, and with hoarse note his trumpets rang, and so soon as 
 he roused his fiery steeds, and clashed his arms, forthwith men's minds 
 were troubled ; withal the whole of Latium leagues together in disordered 
 haste, and the youthful warriors are wild with rage. The foremost chiefs, 
 Messapus and Ufens, and Mezentius the scorn er of the gods, from all 
 parts muster their forces, and far and wide strip the fields of their husband- 
 men. Also, Venulus is sent as envoy to Diomede's mighty city, to pray 
 for help and tell him all, how that Trojans are endeavouring to settle 
 in Latium, that tineas has arrived with his fleet, and is trying to in- 
 troduce his vanquished Penates, and says fate calls him to be king, and 
 that many nations are joining the Dardan hero, and that his name is 
 growing great throughout the length and breadth of Latium. That of 
 
VIII. 64 J THE sEA r EID. 195 
 
 what plan this attempt forms the foundation, what result of battle he 
 desires to gain, should fortune attend him, is more clearly seen by Diomede 
 himself than by king Turnus or king Latinus. Such was the course of 
 events throughout Latium. And when the hero of Laomedon's line views 
 all these things, he is swayed by a mighty tide of thoughts ; and now 
 hither, now thither, he swiftly despatches his divided mind, and hurries it 
 in various directions, and continually whirls it through everything. Even 
 as from the brim of a brazen bowl the tremulous watery ray, caught by 
 the sunbeams or the reflection of the sparkling moon, flits through all the 
 regions round about, and in a moment springs aloft, and strikes the ceil- 
 ing's loftiest point. 
 
 26 — 67. The river-god Tiber appears to ^Eneas, and instructs him to 
 form an alliance with Evander. 
 'Twas night, and through all the world deep sleep possessed the 
 weary creatures, the tribe of birds and beasts ; when father ^Eneas, 
 on the river-bank, and beneath the vault of the cold sky, harassed in heart 
 by thoughts of dread war, had laid himself down, and allowed sleep 
 at last to steal over his limbs. To him the genius of the spot in his own 
 shape, Tiber, as an old man, seemed to rise from the pleasant stream 
 amid the poplar bower ; the god was veiled in a hoary robe of fine- 
 wrought flax, and his locks were shaded with a covering of sedge ; then 
 thus he began to address the hero, and remove his troubles with these 
 words : "You that are sprung from the race of the gods, who bring back 
 to us from the hands of the foe the city of Troy, and preserve Pergama 
 for ever, long looked for by the land of Laurentum and the fields of 
 Latium, here is your sure home, your sure Penates ; go not from them, 
 nor be frighted by the threats of war. All the swelling rage and wrath of 
 Heaven has subsided. And presently, before your eyes, that you may 
 not think this the idle coinage of sleep, a huge sow shall lie, discovered 
 beneath the ilex-trees upon the bank, with a litter of thirty young ones, a 
 white sow, resting on the ground, with white pigs about her teats. This 
 shall be the site of your city, there shall be sure repose from your toils : 
 and on that spot, when thrice ten years come round, Ascanius shall 
 found a city, and call it by the noble name of Alba. Now attend, I 
 utter no uncertain prediction ; I will instruct you in a few words by what 
 means you may victoriously despatch the work that must be done at 
 once. On these shores Arcadians, a race that derives its descent from 
 Pallas, who were the comrades and followers of Evander and his standards, 
 chose a site, and built on the hills a city, called Pallanteum from the 
 name of Pallas their progenitor. They ever wage incessant war with the 
 Latin nation ; them attach to your camp as allies, and with them form a 
 league. I myself will guide you between my banks, and straight along 
 my stream, so that in your upward voyage you may with your oars over- 
 come the current that is against you. Come, rise, goddess-born, and 
 when the earliest stars begin to set, duly offer to Juno your prayers, and 
 overcome with humble vows her wrath and her frowns. When you have 
 conquered, you shall pay to me your homage. I am he whom you behold 
 sweeping my banks with plenteous stream, and cleaving the fruitful corn- 
 lands, dark-blue Tiber, a river well-beloved by Heaven. Here is my 
 
 13—2 
 
196 VIRGIL. [VIII. 65- 
 
 mighty home ; my source flows forth from towering cities." So spoke 
 the River ; then he plunged into the deep pool, diving to the bottom ; 
 night and sleep forsook ^neas. 
 
 68 — 96. The prayer of Apneas. He sails tip the Tiber. 
 
 He rises, and gazing on the eastern rays of the sun in heaven, in due 
 form holds up water from the river in the hollow of his hands, and pours 
 forth to the sky such words as these : " Nymphs, Nymphs of Laurentum, 
 from whom the rivers take their birth, and thou, father Tiber, with thy 
 hallowed stream, receive ^Eneas, and at last protect him from peril. 
 Whatsoever be the source, where thy pool contains thee, thou that pitiest 
 our disasters, from whatsoever soil thou flowest forth in all thy beauty, 
 thou shaft ever be duly worshipped by me with homage and with gifts, 
 thou. horned river, the monarch of the western waters! Only be with 
 me, I beseech thee, and more surely ratify thy will!" So he speaks, and 
 chooses from the fleet a pair of ships, and mans them with a crew ; withal 
 he furnishes his comrades, with arms. But lo, a portent, unlooked-for 
 and wondrous to behold, a spotless sow amidst the forest, of the same 
 colour as her white litter, was reposing, and plain to view on the grassy 
 bank : her pious y£neas slays in sacrifice to thee, even to thee, most 
 mighty Juno, and sets her with her brood beside the altar. On that 
 night, through all its length, Tiber calmed his swelling flood, and flowing 
 backward stood so still with silent stream, that gently he smoothed the 
 face of the waters, like a mere and placid pond, so that the oars moved 
 without an effort. So with speed they go forward on their voyage; amid 
 cheerful murmur the keel careened glides o'er the shallow stream ; and 
 the waters view with wonder, and so does the forest unused to the sight, the 
 shields of warriors flashing afar, and painted hulls floating on the river. 
 They, as they row along, exhaust both day and night, and pass by the long 
 extended windings of the stream, and are shaded by trees of various kinds, 
 and o'er the tranquil surface cleave their way between the green woods. 
 97 — 125. JEneas meets with Pallas, the son of Evander. 
 
 The blazing sun had climbed to the centre of the arch of heaven, 
 when from a distance they descry walls, and a citadel, and roofs of houses 
 thinly scattered, which now the mighty wealth of Rome has raised as 
 high as heaven ; then Evander there possessed his scanty state. With 
 speed they turn their prows to land, and draw nigh to the city. It 
 chanced that on that day the Arcadian prince was offering sacrifice in 
 honour of Amphitryon's mighty descendant, and of the gods, in a grove 
 in front of the city. With him his son Pallas, with him all the flower of 
 the young men, and his poor senate, were offering incense to this hero, 
 and the gore still warm was smoking beside the altars. So soon as they 
 see the tall ships and the crews gliding to land amidst the shadowy 
 grove, and noiselessly plying their oars, they are alarmed at the unexpect- 
 ed sight, and all forsake their tables, and start up. Them Pallas daunt- 
 lessly forbids to interrupt the sacrifice, and himself catches up a weapon, 
 and flies to meet the strangers, and at a distance from a knoll he cries : 
 "Warriors, what cause has constrained you to explore ways that you 
 know not? Whither do ye bend your course? Of what nation are ye? 
 From what home do ye come? Is it peace that ye bring hither, or war?" 
 
VIII. i62.] THE jENEID. 197 
 
 Then father ^Eneas thus speaks from the lofty stern, and holds forth in 
 his hand a bough of olive, the messenger of peace : " Men of Trojan 
 blood you see, and arms at enmity with the Latins ; men whom they with 
 disdainful war have driven outcasts from their land. We come to find 
 Evander. Take to him these tidings, and say that the flower of the 
 chieftains of Dardania have come, and ask for his forces to join them." 
 At so great a name Pallas was awe-struck and astonished : " Come forth, 
 I pray you, whoever you are," he says, " and speak to my sire face to face, 
 and as our guest enter our abode." Then he welcomed him with the 
 grasp of his hand, and clasped his right hand, and clung to it. 
 126 — 183. Apneas tells Evcuider of their common ancestry. Evander 
 relates his meeting with Anchises in Arcadia^ and promises the Tro- 
 jans his aid. 
 
 They go forward, and pass into the wood, and leave the river behind 
 them. Then ^Eneas addresses the king with friendly words : " Best of 
 men of Grecian blood, to whom fortune has decreed that I should pray, 
 and hold forth branches dressed with wreaths, I certainly was not struck 
 with terror, because you were a leader of the Greeks and an Arcadian, 
 and because you were by blood allied to both the sons of Atreus : but it 
 is my own worth and the holy oracles of Heaven, and the kinsmanship 
 of our forefathers, and your renown that is spread over the world, that 
 have united me to you, and made me a willing follower of the force of 
 fate. Dardanus, the first father and founder of the city of Ilium, sprung 
 from Electra the daughter of Atlas, as the Greeks tell the tale, sailed to 
 the land of the Teucri ; strong Atlas begat Electra, Atlas, who supports 
 upon his shoulder the sphere of heaven. Your forefather is Mercury, 
 whom beauteous Maia conceived and gave birth to on the cold peak of 
 Cyllene ; now Atlas, if we trust at all the tradition we have heard, that 
 same Atlas, who bears aloft the stars of the universe, is the father of 
 Maia. So the descent of both of us branches off from one stock. Trust- 
 ing to these facts, I sent no envoys, and did not essay by means of arti- 
 fice to form the foundation of a compact with you ; my own self, and my 
 own life, I have voluntarily placed in your hands, and come in suppliant 
 guise to your gate. The same people, the people of Daunus, who per- 
 secute you with cruel war, assail us too ; if they expel us, they believe 
 that nothing will be wanting to enable them to bring all Italy utterly be- 
 neath their yoke, and to be lords of the sea that washes it above, and of 
 that below as well. Receive and give me your pledge. With us are 
 hearts valiant in war, with us are souls resolved, and a band of warriors 
 proved in action." So spoke ^Eneas. The other all the time attentively 
 surveyed his face, and eyes, and his whole figure, as he talked. Then 
 thus in few words replies : " How gladly I welcome and recognize you, 
 most valiant of the Trojans ! How I am reminded of the words and voice 
 and countenance of your sire the great Anchises ! For I remember that 
 Priam, t*he son of Laomedon, when he came to visit the realm of his sister 
 Hesione, on his voyage to Salamis, went on to visit the cold confines of 
 Arcadia. Then the springtime of youth was beginning to clothe my 
 cheeks with downy bloom ; and I viewed with wonder the Trojan princes, 
 I also wondered at the son of Laomedon himself; but loftier than all 
 
198 VIRGIL. [VIII. 163— 
 
 Anchises passed along. My mind glowed with youthful ardour to accost 
 the warrior, and grasp his hand in mine. I ventured to address him, 
 and eagerly led him within the walls of Pheneus. He at his departure 
 gave me a handsome quiver, and Lycian arrows, and a mantle inwrought 
 with gold, and a pair of bridle reins, all of gold, which now my Pallas 
 has. Therefore I unite with you in sign of treaty the hand you ask me 
 to give ; and also, as soon as to-morrow's dawn brings back light to the 
 world, I will let you go cheered by my aid, and will assist you with sup- 
 plies. Meanwhile, since you have come to us as friends, with good will 
 perform with us this sacrifice, which it were a sin to defer, and forthwith 
 make acquaintance with the table of your allies." When these words 
 had been spoken, he orders that the repast and the cups that had been 
 taken away be again set out, and himself arranges the warriors on the 
 grassy seat, and welcomes ^Eneas as the chief with a couch and the hide 
 of a shaggy lion, and invites him to his maple throne. Then with all 
 speed chosen youths, and the minister of the altar, bring the baked flesh 
 of bulls, and pile upon the baskets the finely-made gifts of Ceres, and 
 serve the wine. ^Eneas and his Trojan warriors together feast upon the 
 whole length of a chine of beef and the purificatory entrails. 
 184 — 279. Evander explains the signification of the festival his people 
 are keeping. The story of the death of Cacus. 
 When hunger was allayed, and the desire to eat satisfied, King Evander 
 says: " It is no idle superstition, born from ignorance of the ancient gods, 
 that has enjoined upon us this established sacrifice, this regular feast, this 
 altar to a Power so high : saved from fearful dangers, my Trojan guest, 
 we institute and perform anew honours well deserved. Now first remark 
 this crag that overhangs the cliff, how masses of stone have been thrown 
 down all about, and the mountain home stands desolate, and the rocks 
 have brought down a ruinous heap. Here was a cave with a mouth that 
 ran back deep within, which the abhorred shape of half-brutish Cacus 
 tenanted, a place impervious to the sunbeams : and ever with fresh 
 slaughter the ground was steaming, and heads of men, ghastly with 
 shocking gore, hung fixed upon the haughty doors. The father of this 
 monster was Vulcan : his were the black fires he used to belch from his 
 mouth as he stalked along in huge bulk. For us, as for others, time 
 brought at last to our longings the help and advent of the god. For the 
 great avenger, made proud by the slaying and the spoils of Geryon of 
 triple form, came here, even Alcides, and was driving hither as conqueror 
 his enormous bulls ; the steers overspread the valley and the river too. 
 But Cacus (for his mind was maddened by frenzy), that there might be no 
 crime nor craft that he had not dared or attempted to do, drove away 
 from their stalls four bulls of goodly size above the rest, and as many 
 heifers of surpassing beauty; and, that there might be no footprints 
 turned directly towards his cave, he dragged them thither by the tail, and 
 stole them away with the marks of their journey reversed, and hid them 
 deep in the dark hollow of the rock. To the eye of one who sought to 
 find them, no prints led to the cavern. Meanwhile, as the son of Amphi- 
 tryon was just removing from their stalls his well-fed herds, and preparing 
 to go away, the steers began to low at setting out, and all the grove was 
 
VIII. 267.] THE jENEID. 199 
 
 filled with their cries, and noisily they began to leave the hills behind 
 them. One of the steers returned the cry, and lowed within the hollow 
 cave ; and, though close shut up, baffled the hope of Cacus. Now it was 
 that the wrath of Alcides furiously blazed forth with deadly gall; he 
 snatches up with his hand his arms, and his oaken club loaded with 
 knobs, and at full speed runs towards the heights of the towering hill. 
 Then for the first time our people saw Cacus trembling and with troubled 
 eyes. Away he flees at once swifter than the east wind, and makes for 
 his cavern : fear winged his feet. No sooner had he shut himself in, and, 
 by breaking the fastenings, dropped down an enormous crag, which was 
 made to hang there by his father's cunning in iron-work, and with that 
 barrier had blocked up and secured the doorway, than lp, the hero of 
 Tiryns was upon him, with fury in his heart ; and as he surveyed every 
 means of approach, rolled his gaze hither and thither, gnashing his teeth. 
 Thrice, boiling with wrath, he traverses all the Aventine hill, thrice he 
 fruitlessly assails the stony portal, thrice in weariness he sits down to 
 rest in the valley. There stood a pointed flinty rock with jagged crags all 
 over, rising up upon the back of the cave, of towering height to view, a fit 
 home for the nests of unholy birds ; this rock, as, hanging o'er the ridge, 
 it inclined towards the river on the left, he, pushing hard against it from 
 the right, stirred from its place, and tore away and loosened from its 
 lowest roots ; then with sudden shock he drove it forward : beneath that 
 shock all the sky resounds ; the banks spring apart, and backward flows 
 the frighted stream. Then the cave, the vast palace of Cacus, stands 
 revealed to sight, and his shadowy den is disclosed from its depths ; just 
 as if beneath some force the earth, yawning open from her depths, were 
 to unlock the mansions of hell, and expose the ghastly kingdoms, hateful 
 to the gods, and the boundless pit were also to be seen, and the spirits of 
 the dead were struck with panic at the entrance of the light. So Alcides 
 from aloft assails with missiles the robber suddenly caught in the light 
 he looks not for, and shut up in his hollow rock, and bellowing with un- 
 earthly roars ; and the hero calls to his aid all sorts of weapons, and plies 
 him with boughs of trees and blocks of stone. The other on his part, 
 for in truth there was now no way left to shun the peril, belches forth 
 from his jaws a mass of smoke (wondrous to tell), and shrouds the 
 dwelling in blinding darkness, robbing the eyes of the power to see before 
 them, and gathers within the cave a ball of smoking gloom, and darkness 
 mixed with fire. The soul of Alcides endured it not, and straight down- 
 ward with a bound he cast himself through the fire, where the smoke 
 drove along its thickest tide, and the vast cave surged with pitchy 
 vapour. Amid the gloom he seizes Cacus, as he belches forth his fruitless 
 flames, grappling him with knotty gripe, and with hard grasp strangles 
 him till his eyes start from the sockets, and his throat is drained of blood. 
 Straightway the doors are torn away, and the deadly den disclosed ; and 
 the bulls he had dragged away, and the theft he had disclaimed with 
 oaths, are laid bare to heaven ; and by the feet he is drawn forth, a mis- 
 shapen corpse. Men cannot sate their hearts with viewing the terrific 
 eyes of the half-brutish monster, his features, and his breast all shaggy with 
 bristles, and his jaws where the flames are quenched. From that time 
 
200 VIRGIL. [VIII. <268— 
 
 homage has been performed, and posterity have joyfully kept the day ; and 
 Potitius was the first founder of the festival, and the Pinarian house is the 
 guardian of the worship of Hercules. He it was who set up this altar in 
 the grove, which by us shall ever be called greatest, and ever will be 
 greatest. Wherefore come, ye youths, in discharge of honour due to merit 
 so high, wreathe your hair with leaves, and present with your hands the 
 cup, and invoke our common god, and with goodwill offer the wine." 
 So he spake ; whereupon the people veiled their hair with the foliage of 
 Hercules of double shade, and down the garland hung with leafy twine, 
 and the right hand was charged with the sacred bowl. All with haste 
 joyfully pour the libation upon the table, and intreat the gods. 
 280 — 305. The worship and praises of Hercules. 
 
 Meanwhile evening draws nearer, as the sphere of heaven slopes down. 
 And now the priests, and at their head Potitius, come along, girt with 
 skins according to custom, and carrying torches. Anew they solemnize 
 the feast, and bring to the second course welcome gifts, and pile the 
 altars with laden dishes. Next the Salii draw near to sing around the 
 kindled altar, their brows bound with poplar wreaths. On one side is the 
 choir of youths, on the other that of the aged; they in verse chant the 
 renown and deeds of Hercules ; how with the grasp of his hand he 
 strangled the earliest monsters his stepmother sent, the two serpents, 
 how he too o'erthrew in war illustrious cities, both Troy and GEchalia; 
 how he passed through a thousand difficult toils' at the bidding of King 
 Eurystheus, by the doom of cruel Juno. " It was thy hand, unconquered 
 Power, that slew the cloud-born Centaurs of twofold shape, both Hylasus 
 and Pholus : thou didst slay the monsters of Crete, and the huge lion 
 beneath the rock of Nemea. Before thee the Stygian waters trembled ; 
 before thee the doorkeeper of hell, as he lay in his gory lair upon half- 
 devoured bones. And no shapes could terrify thee, not Typhosus himself, 
 wielding his weapons in towering stature ; thy presence of mind forsook 
 thee not, when encompassed by the snake of Lerna with its multitude 
 of heads. Hail, Jove's undoubted child, thou whose presence is a new 
 glory to the gods ! Both ourselves and thy sacrifice approach with 
 favouring step." Such are the deeds they celebrate in song : above all 
 they introduce the den of Cacus, and the monster himself with his breath 
 of fire. All the grove together re-echoes with the din, and the hills rebound. 
 306 — 368. Evander tells the history of the early inhabitants of Italy, and 
 
 shews Apneas various places in his city. They enter the dwelling of 
 
 Evander. 
 After that, all the people return to the city, when the religious cere- 
 monies have been duly performed. The monarch clogged with age went 
 along, and kept beside him as his companions ^Eneas and his son, as he 
 walked, and lightened the way with various conversation. ^Eneas is 
 filled with wonder, and rapidly runs his eyes o'er all around ; and is 
 attracted by various spots, and with pleasure both asks for and is told of 
 the records left by the men of former times. Then says king Evander, 
 the founder of the citadel of Rome : " These groves were once haunted 
 by the gods of the soil, Fauns and Nymphs, and a race of men sprung 
 from the trunks of trees and hard oak ; they had no rule of life and no 
 
VIII. 37'-] THE jENEID. 20 t 
 
 civilisation, and knew not how to yoke oxen, or to store up wealth, or to 
 refrain from wasting what they had won : but lived on boughs and the 
 rude sustenance gained by hunting. Saturn was the first to come from 
 heavenly Olympus, fleeing from the armed power of Jove, and an exile 
 spoiled of his kingdom ; it was he who made into a settled society a 
 people untaught and scattered over the tops of the mountains, and gave 
 them laws, and chose that the land should be called Latium, because in 
 safety he had lain concealed in this region. It was under this king that 
 the golden age existed, of which tradition tells ; in such perfect peace he 
 ruled the realm ; until by degrees crept in a time degenerate and dis- 
 coloured ; and the frenzy of war, and the passion for gain. Then came 
 the Ausonian bands and the Sicanian tribes, and the land of Saturn often 
 changed its name : then came kings, and savage Thybris of enormous 
 frame, from whom we Italians have since called our river by the name of 
 Thyber ; the ancient Albula has lost its proper name. Me, forced from 
 my fatherland, and exploring the uttermost parts of the sea, almighty 
 Fortune and irresistible Fate settled in these regions ; and the dread warn- 
 ings of my mother, the nymph Carmentis, drove me hither, and Apollo's 
 divine authority." Scarce had the words been spoken, when straightway 
 he goes on to shew him the altar and also the gate which the Romans 
 call by name the Carmental, an ancient honour paid to the nymph Car- 
 mentis, the prophetess of fate, who was the first to predict that the children 
 of ^neas would be great and Pallanteum renowned. After this he points 
 out the vast grove, which valiant Romulus made a refuge anew, and 
 the Lupercal beneath the breezy rock, so called after the Arcadian model 
 of Lycasan Pan. Furthermore he shews the grove of holy Argiletum, and 
 himself attests the spot, and tells of the death of Argus his guest. After 
 this he guides him to the Tarpeian rock, and the site of the Capitol, now 
 all of gold, once a tangled mass of woody thickets. Even then the 
 awful sanctity of the spot used to scare the frighted rustics, even then they 
 shuddered at the grove and cliff. " This wood," he says, " this hill with 
 leafy crown, is haunted by a god, what god it is, is doubtful ; the Arca- 
 dians believe they have beheld Jove himself, while many a time his right 
 hand shook the darkling aegis, and stirred the thunder-clouds. You see 
 besides these two towns with ruined walls, remains and records of the men 
 of old. This citadel was built by father Janus, that by Saturn ; the one 
 was named Janiculum, the other Saturnia." So conversing with one ano- 
 ther, they drew near to Evander's homely dwelling, and saw the cattle all 
 around lowing in the Roman Forum and the sumptuous Carinae. So 
 soon as they reached the abode : " This," says he, " is the threshold 
 through which victorious Alcides passed, this is the palace which received 
 him. Dare to scorn wealth, my guest, and fashion yourself also to 
 deserve divinity, and approach our poverty without disdain." So he 
 spoke, and led the great ^Eneas beneath the roof of his lowly abode, 
 and placed him reclining on a bed of leaves and the hide of a Libyan 
 bear. On speeds the night, and clasps the world with sable wings. 
 
 369, — 406. Venus persuades Vulcan to assist Apneas. Vtricari 's forge. 
 
 But Venus, whose mind was not without reason filled with a mother's 
 fears, and agitated by the threatenings of the Laurentes, and their fell 
 
202 VIRGIL. [VIII. 372- 
 
 outbreak, addresses Vulcan, and thus begins to speak in her husband's 
 golden chamber, and with her words breathes on him love divine : " So 
 long as the Argive princes were wasting with war Troy predestined to 
 this ruin, and the battlements doomed to fall by hostile flames, I asked 
 not any help for the wretches, I asked not for the armour of your skill 
 and power, nor wished, my dearest husband, uselessly to employ the 
 efforts of yourself or of your workmanship : albeit I owed a deep debt 
 to Priam's sons, and often wept for the painful struggle of ^Eneas. Now 
 by Jove's commands he has fixed his home on the shores of the Rutu- 
 lians. Therefore I come a suppliant now, and ask arms of your divinity 
 that I reverence, a mother for her son. You the daughter of Nereus, 
 you the bride of Tithonus had power to move with tears. Behold what 
 nations are leaguing together, what strongholds with their gates barred 
 are whetting the sword against me, and for the destruction of my people." 
 She ended ; and all around with snowy arms the goddess fondles in 
 soft embrace her hesitating lord. He all at once felt the wonted flame, 
 and the well-known warmth passed into his marrow, and shot through 
 his melting bones. Even as when perchance a glittering rent of fire, torn 
 open by the gleaming bolt, shoots through the thunder-clouds with flash- 
 ing light. His consort, pleased with the stratagem, and conscious of her 
 charms, perceived it. Then speaks the Sire, bound with the chain of 
 everlasting love : " Why do you search so deep for reasons ? Whither, 
 Lady, has departed your trust in me ? Had your anxiety been like this, 
 then too had it been in my power to arm the Trojans, nor would the 
 Almighty Father, nor the Fates, have forbidden Troy to stand, and Priam 
 to survive for ten years more. And now, if you intend to wage war, 
 and such is your resolve, all the careful skill in my craft that I can pro- 
 mise, all that can be wrought with iron and molten electrum, all the force 
 of flames and blasts — desist from expressing by your prayers distrust in 
 your power." Such were the words he spoke, and gave the caresses he 
 longed to give, and sinking into the lap of his queen, courted quiet sleep 
 to steal along his limbs. 
 
 407 — 453. The making of the armour by the Cyclops of Etna. 
 After that, when the middle stage of night's course was completed, 
 and the first slumber had banished sleep, at the time when the woman, 
 who is compelled to support life by her distaff and the slender earnings of 
 her craft, revives the ashes and smouldering fire, adding the night to her 
 hours of work, and by lamp-light keeps her maidens toiling at a ceaseless 
 task, that she may be able to preserve unstained her husband's bed, and 
 rear her little children ; — like her, and with not less zeal, the lord of fire 
 at that season rises from his soft couch to the labours of his craft. Near 
 the Sicanian shore and vEolian Lipare, an island towers from the sea 
 with a peak of smoking rocks, beneath which a cavern thunders, and 
 the deeps of Etna, hollowed by the forges of the Cyclops ; and hard blows 
 upon the anvils are heard to give forth a noise, and hot bars of Chalybian 
 iron hiss within the caves, and in the furnaces fire pants out its blast : it 
 is the house of Vulcan, and the land is named Vulcania. Hither from 
 the height of heaven the lord of fire then came down. In their dreary 
 cave the Cyclops were forging the iron, Brontes, and Steropes, and 
 
VIII. 4 8o.] THE ^ENEID. 203 
 
 Pyracmon with naked limbs. In their hands was a hatf-wrought thunder- 
 bolt already finished in part ; — such as from all the sky the Father hurls 
 in numbers down on earth; part was still unfinished. Three shafts of 
 writhen rain, three of watery cloud, they had blended with it, three of red 
 fire and winged southern wind. Now they were mingling with their work 
 frightful flashes, and din, and dread, and wrath with its pursuing flames. 
 Elsewhere with haste they prepared for Mars his car and flying wheels, 
 with which the god arouses men and whole cities ; and with all their 
 might were finishing the terrific segis, the armour of angry Pallas, with 
 serpent-scales and gold, and the twine of snakes, and on the breast of 
 the goddess the Gorgon's self, with eyes still rolling in her severed head. 
 " Set all your tasks aside," he says, " and remove the works you have 
 begun, Cyclops of Etna, and give your minds to this ; arms must be 
 wrought for a valiant hero. Now is the time to use your strength, your 
 nimble hands, and every lesson of your art. Turn delay to haste." No 
 more he said ; so they with speed all set themselves to the work, and 
 equally divided the toil. In streamlets runs the brass, and ore of gold, 
 and piercing steel is melting in the mighty furnace. They begin to shape 
 a ponderous shield, strong enough by itself to meet all the darts of 
 Latium, and weld one upon another circles sevenfold deep. Some with 
 the windy bellows alternately catch and expel the blast ; others dip in the 
 pool the hissing brass ; the cavern groans beneath the anvils piled upon 
 it. They, one after the other, with vigorous force raise their arms in 
 measure and turn with biting tongs the molten mass. 
 
 454 — 519. Evander promises to make the Etruscans, who have revolted 
 from their king Mezejitius, the allies of ^Eneas. 
 While in the coasts of ^Eolus the Lemnian sire is hastening on this 
 work, the kindly light, and the morning songs of birds beneath his roof, 
 call up Evander from his lowly home. The old man rises, and clothes his 
 limbs with the tunic, and wraps around his soles the Tuscan bandage of 
 the foot: then to his side and shoulders he buckles his Arcadian sword, 
 drawing close the panther's hide that hung down upon his left : and like- 
 wise a pair of guards, his hounds, go out before him from the lofty thres- 
 hold, and attend upon their master's step. The hero, mindful of his 
 words and the service he had promised, went on towards the dwelling 
 and chamber of his guest ^Eneas. No less early ^Eneas came along : 
 with the former his son Pallas walked in company ; with the latter 
 Achates. When they met, they joined hand in hand, and sat down in 
 the inmost chamber of the house, and at last enjoyed the conversation 
 they might now begin. The monarch is the first to speak: "Most mighty 
 captain of the Teucri (for while you survive I will surely never admit that 
 the state or realm of Troy is vanquished), to meet so great a name as 
 yours, my power is but weak for aid in war: on this side we are shut in by 
 the Tuscan stream, on that the Rutulian presses hard upon us, and sounds 
 about our wall with clashing arms. But I intend to unite with you mighty 
 nations and a camp made rich with kingdoms ; this means of safety Un- 
 looked-for chance presents ; hither approach at the request of fate. Not 
 far from hence lies the site of the city of Agylla founded on an ancient 
 rock, where once a Lydian race renowned in war fixed its home on the 
 
204 VIRGIL. [VIII. 481— 
 
 Etruscan hills. When the people had now prospered for many years, in 
 course of time King Mezentius ruled them with overbearing sway and 
 savage arms. Why should I tell of the horrid massacres, the outrageous 
 crimes of the tyrant? May Heaven keep them in store to fall upon his 
 own head and on his race ! Nay, he even used to unite the bodies of the 
 dead with the living, joining them hand to hand and face to face (dire 
 form of torture!) and so, in that miserable embrace, streaming with 
 corruption and gore, he killed them by a lingering death. But his sub- 
 jects, wearied out at last, take up arms and beset him in his own house, 
 in the midst of his boundless fury ; they cut down his supporters, they 
 hurl fire to the roof of his palace. He amid the carnage slunk away, and 
 has sought refuge in the land of the Rutulians, and is protected by the 
 arms of Turnus, his friend. So all Etruria rose in righteous wrath ; with 
 arms prompt for war they demand that the king be surrendered to their 
 vengeance. You, yEneas, I will make captain over these thousands ; for 
 their ships in crowded squadrons are loud with rage all along the shore, 
 and require that their standards advance. The aged seer keeps them 
 back, pronouncing the will of Fate: 'Mseonia's chosen band of warriors, 
 the flower and soul of men of old descent, ye whom righteous indignation 
 bears against the foe, and Mezentius fires with rage he well deserves, no 
 man of Italy may command so great a nation; choose foreign leaders.' 
 Then the Etruscan array made its camp on this plain, awed by the warn- 
 ings of heaven. Tarchon himself has sent to me ambassadors with the 
 crown and sceptre of royalty, and delivers to my hands the ensigns of 
 power, bidding me enter the camp, and take under my sway the Tyrrhene 
 realm. But old age, halting with cold and worn with lapse of years, and 
 strength now past the time for deeds of valour, withhold empire from 
 me. I would urge my son to the enterprise, were he not of mixed blood 
 by his Sabine mother, and so derived from her a share of her native land. 
 Do you, whose years and descent are smiled upon by Fate, you, whom 
 the gods require, enter on your career, right valiant captain of Trojans 
 and Italians! Moreover, I will join with you this my son Pallas, my 
 hope and comfort; under your governance let him practise to endure 
 warfare and the hard work of Mars, to observe your exploits, and to look 
 up to you from his early years. To him I will give two hundred horse- 
 men, the flower of our vigorous youth, and Pallas shall bring you as many 
 more in his own name." 
 
 520 — 545. Venus gives the sign of impending war. 
 Scarce had he finished speaking, when ^Eneas the son of Anchises and 
 his faithful Achates fixed their eyes upon the ground, and with their own 
 sad hearts would have pondered over many a hardship, had not Cytherea 
 given forth an omen in the cloudless sky. For suddenly shot from heaven 
 comes a forky flash, and with it a noise ; and straightway all the air seems 
 thrown into a tumult, and the swell of the Tyrrhene trumpet to peal along 
 the sky. They raise their eyes ; again and again breaks forth the mighty 
 crash ; arms they behold amidst a cloud in a clear quarter of the heaven 
 reddening through the bright atmosphere, and sounding with thunderous 
 clash. Confounded were the hearts of the rest; but the Trojan hero 
 recognized the meaning of the sound, and the promise of his goddess 
 
VIII. 585.] THE MNEID. 205 
 
 mother. Then he speaks: "Do not indeed, my host, do not ask at all 
 what event these wonders bring; I am summoned: my divine parent 
 forewarned me she would send from Olympus this sign, if war was near 
 at hand, and through the air would convey, to succour me, arms wrought 
 by Vulcan. Alas, what fearful carnage is close upon the wretched Lau- 
 rentes ! Turnus, what a punishment will you suffer at my hands ! In 
 what multitudes, O father Tiber, wilt thou roll beneath thy flood shields of 
 men, and helmets, *and corpses of the brave ! Let them call for battle- 
 fields, and break the compacts they have made!" When he had uttered 
 these words, he rose from his lofty throne : and first he wakes afresh the 
 fires that slept on the altars of Hercules, and joyfully approaches the Lar 
 he worshipped yesterday, and the little Penates : Evander and the youth 
 of Troy all in like manner sacrifice ewes duly chosen. 
 546 — 584. JEneas takes leave of Evander. Evander' s farewell to his son. 
 
 Afterwards he walks hence to his fleet, and visits again his comrades. 
 Out of their number he chooses the foremost in valour to be his own 
 attendants to the war ; the rest sail down the stream, and idly drift along 
 the favouring flood, to carry to Ascanius news of his state and of his 
 father. Steeds are given to the Trojans who are marching to the Tyrrhene 
 fields : they bring for ^Eneas one chosen out for himself, covered all over 
 with a lion's tawny hide, that brightly shone with gilded paws. The 
 rumour flies abroad, published at once throughout the little city, that 
 horsemen are going with speed to the home of the Etruscan king. Mothers 
 in their anxiety redouble their vows, and fear comes closer to the peril 
 it dreads, and now the shape of War is larger seen. Then old Evander, 
 clasping the hand of his departing guest, clings to it, with weeping that 
 cannot be satisfied, and speaks to him thus: "O that Jove would give me 
 back the years that are past ! Such as I was when close beneath Prae- 
 neste I laid low the foremost ranks of the enemy, and burnt whole heaps 
 of conquered shields, and sent King Erilus with this right hand to Tar- 
 tarus. To him at his birth his mother Feronia had given (fearful to tell!) 
 three lives, three sets of brandished arms ; thrice he must be laid low in 
 death ; yet on that day this hand robbed him of all his lives, and as often 
 stripped him of his arms. I would not now at all be torn from your sweet 
 embrace, my son; and never should Mezentius in contempt for myself, 
 his neighbour, have wrought with the sword so many barbarous murders, 
 have bereft my town of so many citizens. But you, ye gods of heaven, 
 and thou, most mighty ruler of the gods, Jupiter, pity, I beseech you, the 
 Arcadian king, and hear a father's prayers : if your will, if fate keep for 
 me my Pallas safe from harm, if I live destined to see him and be made 
 one with him again, I beg for life ; I am willing to endure every hardship. 
 But if, O Fortune, you threaten some unutterable disaster, now, now, I 
 pray, suffer me to cut short my hateful life, while my fears are unfulfilled, 
 while my presage of the future is doubtful, while thee, dear boy, my sole 
 and last delight, I hold in my embrace ; and may no fatal message wound 
 my ears." These words at the moment of separation the father poured 
 forth; his servants bore him swooning within the palace. 
 
 585 — 607. jEneas and his band reach the Etruscan camp. 
 
 And now the troop of horsemen had quite passed out at the open gates, 
 
2o6 VIRGIL. [VIII. 586— 
 
 ^Eneas among the first, and his trusty Achates ; after them the other 
 lords of Troy; Pallas himself in the middle of the train, brilliant with 
 broidered scarf and arms inwrought: such as, when bathed in Ocean's 
 flood, the morning-star, that Venus loves above the other starry fires, 
 exalts in heaven his sacred head and melts the gloom away. Mothers 
 stand trembling on the walls, and follow with their eyes the dusty clouds 
 and the squadrons with their gleaming brass. They all in arms march 
 onward through the thicket by the way that leads them soonest to their 
 goal ; a shout is raised, and in close array the horses' hoofs with fourfold 
 trampling shake the crumbling plain. There stands near Caere's stream a 
 mighty grove, held sacred far and wide through the reverence of the men 
 of old ; hollow hills shut it in on all sides and encompass the wood with a 
 belt of black fir-trees. Tradition tells that the old Pelasgi, who were the 
 first that ever possessed the Latin lands, dedicated to Silvanus, the god 
 of fields and flocks, the grove and a holyday as well. Not far from hence 
 Tarchon and his Tuscans had placed their camp in a strong position, and 
 from a high hill all the host could now be seen, and had pitched its tents 
 on the open plain. Hitherward ^Eneas and his band of warriors chosen 
 for battle advance, and refresh themselves and their weary steeds. 
 608—731. Venus brings the arms to jEneas. Description of the designs 
 engraven on the shield. 
 But Venus, beauteous goddess, amid the clouds of heaven was near 
 at hand, bringing her gifts ; and so soon as from afar she saw her son 
 in a secluded valley, and retired from the cold stream, with these words 
 she addressed him, and freely appeared to his view : " Lo, these are the 
 gifts I promised, fashioned by my husband's art ; henceforth fear not, 
 my son, to challenge to the fight either the proud Laurentes or the 
 fierce Turnus." So spoke the queen of Cythera, and sought her son's 
 embrace : beneath an oak that stood before them she placed the radiant 
 arms. He, exulting in the gift of the goddess, and an honour so great, 
 cannot satiate his joy, and rolls his gaze over each separate piece. He 
 admires, and poises in his hands and arms the helm's terrific plumes 
 and breathing flames, and the sWord, fate's instrument, the corslet of stiff 
 brass, in hue like blood, of massive size, like as when a dusky cloud 
 against the sunbeams glows and shines afar ; next the polished greaves 
 of precious metal and refined gold, and the lance, and the ineffable 
 fabric of the shield. There the lord of fire, not unversed in prophecy, 
 nor ignorant of future time, had wrought the fortunes of Italy and the 
 triumphs of Rome ; there he had carved every generation of the line 
 that was to descend from Ascanius, and all the wars as in succession 
 they were fought. Also he had wrought the mother-wolf as she lay 
 stretched out in the green cave of Mavors ; about her teats the twin boys 
 hung in play, and their dam licked them unterrified ; she, bending back 
 the length of her shapely neck, caressed them one after the other, and 
 fashioned their bodies with her tongue. Not far hence he had intro- 
 duced Rome, and the Sabine women rudely carried away in the assembled 
 crowd of the theatre, when the great games of the circus were performed, 
 and a fresh war straightway springing up between the men of Romulus 
 and king Tatius and his austere Cures. Afterwards the same kings, 
 
 
VIII. 6q3-] THE jENEID. 207 
 
 their mutual conflict laid aside, in arms, and holding bowls in their hands, 
 stood before the altar of Jove, and with the sacrifice of a sow concluded 
 the treaty. Not far from thence chariots swiftly rushing different ways 
 had torn asunder Metius : (yet, would that you abode by your promise, 
 man of Alba !) and through the forest Tullus dragged along the mangled 
 body of the traitor, and the brambles dripped with dews of blood. More- 
 over, Porsena was there, commanding them to receive the banished 
 Tarquin, and hemming the city round with strict blockade ; the sons 
 of ^Eneas hurried to take the sword for freedom. Him you might behold 
 like one in the act of wrath, in the act of menace ; because Codes dared 
 to break away the bridge, and Claelia had burst her fetters and was 
 swimming across the stream. At the top, Manlius, the guard of the 
 Tarpeian fort, stood before the temple, and kept the lofty Capitol ; and 
 the palace was all rough, freshly covered with the thatch of Romulus. 
 And here a silver goose, flitting in arcades of gold, proclaimed that the 
 Gauls were already in the threshold ; the Gauls were coming close up 
 through the bushes, and grasped the citadel, screened by the darkness 
 and the favour of a gloomy night. Golden their flowing hair, their dress 
 of gold ; their cloaks are striped and shining ; also, their milk-white necks 
 are circled with collars of gold ; each in his hand brandishes two Alpine 
 javelins, their bodies are protected by their long shields. Here he had 
 forged the bounding Salii and the naked Luperci, and the crests bound 
 with wool, and the targets dropt from heaven ; holy matrons in their 
 easy cars conveyed through the city the sacred vessels. Far hence he 
 adds to the work the regions of Tartarus also, the deep portal of Dis ; 
 and the punishments given to crimes, and you, Catiline, as you hang 
 from a frowning rock, and shudder at the glance of the Furies ; and far 
 removed from them, the pious ; and Cato among these dispensing laws. 
 Between these groups the likeness of a swelling sea extended far and 
 wide, all golden : but the blue waters foamed with hoary spray ; and 
 around, dolphins of shining silver swept the main into circles with their 
 tails, and cleft the surge. In the midst you might behold fleets armed 
 with brass, the conflict of Actium, and all Leucate you might see glowing 
 with the array of battle, and the billows glittering with gold. On this 
 side Caesar Augustus, leading into the fight his Italians, with the Fathers 
 and the People, the Penates and the great gods, standing on the lofty 
 poop ; his joyous brows breathe forth a double flame, and on his head 
 is seen his father's star. In another part, with winds and gods pro- 
 pitious, Agrippa raised aloft leads on the line ; whose brows gleam with 
 the beaks that form the naval crown, proud ornament of war ! On this 
 side Antonius, with his barbaric aid and various arms, victorious from 
 the nations of the Morning and the shore of the Red Sea, brings with 
 him Egypt, and the powers of the East, and the remote Bactrians ; and 
 there follows him (O shame !) an Egyptian wife. All at once rush on, 
 and the whole surface of the deep begins to foam, convulsed with the 
 long stroke of the oars, and the beaks of triple tooth. Out to sea they 
 speed ; you would think that Cyclades rooted up were floating on the 
 main, or that high mountains were moving against mountains in battle : 
 on towered ships of bulk so vast the warriors press to the fight. With 
 
208 VIRGIL. [VIII. 694— 
 
 the hand are hurled showers of flaming tow, and shafts with winged steel. 
 The plains of Neptune are crimsoned with wondrous carnage. In the 
 midst the queen urges on the host with the cymbal of her native land ; 
 and not even yet does she descry the two snakes that are behind. The 
 monstrous shapes of gods of every kind, and barking Anubis, uplift their 
 shafts against Neptune and Venus and Minerva. Mars, wrought in steel, 
 rages in the heart of the conflict, and the fell Furies from the sky, 
 and Discord in mantle rent exulting stalks along, and Bellona follows 
 her with bloody scourge in hand. Actian Apollo, when he saw the sight, 
 bent his bow from above ; in dread of him every Egyptian and Indian 
 and Arabian and Sabsean turned his back in flight. The queen herself 
 was seen to woo the wafting winds and spread the sails, and loosen all 
 the shrouds. Her amid the carnage, pallid at the approach of doom, the 
 lord of fire had figured as borne along by the waves and western wind ; 
 then, opposite her, the Nile in all his huge extent lamenting, and opening 
 wide his folds, and with all his robe expanded calling the vanquished 
 to his dark-blue lap, and the coverts of his stream. But Caesar, in three- 
 fold triumph passing through the walls of Rome, was dedicating to the 
 gods of Italy an eternal votive gift, three hundred mighty shrines 
 throughout the whole city. The streets were loud with joy and sports 
 and shouts. In every temple is a chorus of matrons, in every one an 
 altar ; slain steers before the altars strew the ground. He himself, 
 seated in the snow-white portal of fair Apollo, reviews the offerings of the 
 nations, and duly fixes them to the proud doors ; in long array the 
 vanquished peoples come along, as various in language, as in fashion 
 of dress and arms. Here had Mulciber portrayed the Numidian tribe, 
 and the ungirt Africans, here the Leleges, and Carians, and the Geloni 
 that bear the bow ; with waves now humble Euphrates flowed along ; and 
 the Morini, the remotest of men, and the Rhine of double horn, and the 
 unsubdued Dahse, and Araxes that spurns a bridge. Such figures 
 throughout the shield of Vulcan, the gift of his mother, he admires, and 
 though he knows not the events, is pleased with their pictured shadow, 
 as he lifts upon his shoulder the fame and fortunes of his descendants. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 1 — 24. Turnus is urged by Iris to seize the opportunity ', and attack the 
 Trojans in the absence of JEneas. 
 Now whilst such were the deeds done in a far distant quarter, Saturnian 
 Juno sent Iris from heaven to daring Turnus. It chanced that then in 
 the grove of his ancestor Pilumnus Turnus sat in a consecrated dell. To 
 whom thus spake the daughter of Thaumas, with her rosy lips : " Turnus, 
 the fortune which to your wishes not one of the gods would dare to 
 promise, lo ! in the course of events this day offers, though you looked 
 not for it. ^neas has left his town, his comrades, his fleet ; he has gone 
 to the realm and home of Palatine Evander. Not content with this, he 
 has penetrated to the farthest towns, even to Corythus, and there 
 he arms the bands of Tuscans, the companies of the tillers of the field. 
 Why linger ? now is the hour to call for your steeds, for your chariot. 
 
IX. 68.] THE ^ENEID. 209 
 
 Away with, all delay, strike the camp with terror, take it by storm. She 
 spake, and raised herself to heaven on her poised wings, and as she fled, 
 drew within the clouds the arch of a mighty bow. The youthful prince 
 knew the goddess, and raised his folded hands to the stars, and followed 
 her flight with these words : " Iris, glory of heaven, who sent thee down 
 to me in thy course from the clouds to earth? whence comes this weather 
 suddenly serene ? I see the heavens parted in their centre, and the stars 
 straggling in the sky. Omens so clear I follow, whoe'er thou artpthat 
 callest me to arms." Thus having said, he went on to the river, and filled 
 the palm of his hand with water from the surface of the stream, making 
 many a prayer to the gods, and loaded heaven with his vows. 
 25 — 76. The Trojans keep within their ca?np. Turnus attacks the fleet. 
 Straightway all the host marched o'er the open plain, rich in steeds, 
 rich in broidered vests and gold. In the van is Messapus, the sons of 
 Tyrrheus close the rear, in the centre of the line is the general, Turnus. 
 Like as w r hen the deep Ganges rises silently with its seven majestic 
 streams, or when Nile ebbs on the plain with fertilizing waters, and 
 presently sinks within its channel. Here the Trojans view from far a 
 sudden cloud of black dust collecting, and darkness rising o'er the plains. 
 First from the rampart that faced the foe Caicus calls aloud : " What 
 mass, my countrymen, is this, rolling with black gloom ? Quickly bring 
 swords, give weapons, mount the walls ; the enemy is upon us ; quit 
 yourselves like men." With loud shouts the Trojans retire through all 
 their gates, they line their walls. Such was the charge of ^Eneas, wise 
 captain, when he departed, that if in his absence any change of fortune 
 should arise, they were not to venture to put the battle in array, nor to 
 trust the open field, content to keep to the camp, and maintain the walls 
 safe behind the rampart. So, though shame and anger urge them to 
 engage hand to hand, yet they bar the gates, and fulfil his charge, and 
 under arms wait for the foe in their hollow turrets. As Turnus flew 
 forward outstripping the slowly marching line, attended by twenty picked 
 horsemen, so suddenly he is before the town ; a piebald Thracian horse 
 bears the prince, a helmet of gold with crimson crest covers his head. 
 "Youths, will any man join me to be the first against the foe?" "Behold! " 
 he says, and whirling his lance, hurls it into the air, the prelude of the 
 fray, and on his tall steed bounds into the plain. With snouts his com- 
 rades take up the challenge, and follow with a cheer that rings with terror; 
 they marvel at the Trojans, how tame their souls, who will not trust 
 themselves to a fair field, nor like men meet them in arms, but keep close 
 within their camp. The prince excited rides round the walls on every 
 side, looking for an entrance where there is none. As when a wolf plots 
 mischief against a full fold, ravening up to the pens in the dead of night, 
 for he has borne the winds and rain ; the lambs safe beneath their dams 
 bleat evermore ; he maddened and restless with rage is ramping against 
 those he cannot reach ; the fury of hunger that has long been gaining 
 strength torments the beast, and his jaws are dry for want of blood. Just 
 so the rage of the Rutulian chief, as he gazes on the walls and camp, 
 glows more and more ; anger burns within his hardy heart, as he thinks 
 how he can attempt an entrance, and what approach would dislodge the 
 
 VIR. 14 
 
2IO • VIRGIL. [IX. 69— 
 
 enclosed Trojans from their entrenchment, and send them streaming into 
 the plain. The fleet which lay hid close to the camp, guarded all round 
 by a rampart and by the stream of the river, he suddenly attacks ; he calls 
 to his exulting comrades to bring fire, and glowing in spirit fills his hand 
 with a blazing brand. Then indeed they set themselves to the work, en- 
 couraged by the presence of Turnus, and all the youth arm themselves 
 with smoking torches. They seize them from the hearths around ; the 
 smoking brand bears its pitchy light, and Vulcan rolls to the stars a 
 mass of glowing ashes. 
 
 77 — 106. But the goddess Cybele had received from Jupiter a promise 
 that the ships of Apneas should be transformed into sea-nymphs. 
 
 Tell me, Muses, what god turned from the Trojans the cruel fires ? 
 who chased from the ships such fierce flames ? Worn with age are the 
 proofs of the fact ; but the fame thereof has lasted through years. At 
 the time, that ./Eneas was first building his fleet on Phrygian Ida, and 
 making ready to sail o'er the deep main, 'tis said that the Berecynthian 
 mother of the gods herself thus addressed great Jove : "Grant, my son, 
 to my prayer that which thy dear parent asks in return for the lord- 
 ship of Olympus. I have a pine-forest, dear to me through many a 
 year ; there was a holy grove on the summit of the heights, whither they 
 used to bring their sacrifices ; dark was it with black pines and the boles 
 of maple-trees : these I gladly gave to the Dardan prince, when he 
 needed a fleet ; but now anxious fear grievously torments me. Relieve 
 my terrors, and let thy parent have so much power with her prayers, that 
 they be not shattered in any voyage, or destroyed in any storm of wind ; 
 let them find it good to have grown on a mountain dear to me." To 
 her replied her son, who sways in their motions the stars of the universe : 
 "My mother, whither wouldst thou call the fates? or what dost thou 
 ask in thy prayer? Can vessels framed by mortal hand have immortal 
 might? Can ./Eneas securely pass through the insecurity of perils? To 
 what god is such power allowed ? Nay but rather, when their toils are 
 past and they reach the end of their voyage, even the Italian harbours, 
 whatever ship has escaped the waves, and carried the Dardan chief to 
 the Laurentian fields, from it will I take its mortal form, and bid it be 
 one of the goddesses of the great sea, in shape like Doto daughter of 
 Nereus, or Galatea, who breast the foaming main." He spake, and ratified 
 his word by the streams of his Stygian brother, by the banks pouring 
 with pitchy torrent and a black abyss, and gave his nod thereto, and 
 with his nod made all Olympus shake. 
 
 107 — 122. When the fated day came the promise was fulfilled. 
 
 So then the promised day was come, and the fates had fulfilled the 
 destined hours, when the wrong that Turnus threatened warned the 
 mother of the gods to drive the brands from the holy ships. Here first 
 a strange light gleamed before their eyes, and a great cloud was seen 
 to skim over the sky from the eastern horizon ; the Idasan choir appeared ; 
 then a dreadful voice fell from heaven through the air, and rilled the 
 Trojan and Rutulian hosts: "Haste not, Trojans, to defend my ships ; no. 
 need to arm your hands ; as soon to burn the seas shall Turnus be allowed, 
 as these my holy trees. Do you go free, go, for ye are goddesses of the 
 
IX. 167.] THE uENEID. 211 
 
 sea ; 'tis the will of the mother of the gods." And lo ! in an instant the 
 stern of every ship breaks away its hawser from the bank, and like a 
 dolphin makes for the depth of the water with its beak plunged in the 
 stream. From the same depths, (marvellous miracle !) as many brazen 
 prows as stood by the shore, so many maiden faces rise again, and are 
 wafted o'er the seas. 
 
 123 — 167. Ttirnus is not daunted by portents •, which he applies to the 
 Trojans themselves. 
 Aghast were the minds of the Rutulians ; even Messapus himself was 
 terrified, and his horses affrighted ; the river Tiber too seems to stay, 
 roaring hoarsely, and calls back his stream from the sea. But daring 
 Turnus lost not heart ; in spite of all he raises their spirits by his words, 
 in spite of all he chides his men : " For the Trojans these portents are 
 meant ; thus Jove himself has taken from them their wonted help : their 
 vessels wait not for our weapons, or for Rutulian fires. So then the seas 
 are closed to the Trojans, they have no hope of flight ; half the world 
 is lost to them ; the land is in our hands ; and on it many thousands, even 
 the Italian nations, are in arms against them. I fear not the fateful 
 answers of the gods, if there be any the Phrygians boast of as their 
 champions. Enough has been given to Venus and the Fates in the fact 
 that the Trojans have landed on the fields of fruitful Italy. I too have 
 my fates to meet their's, that with the sword I should utterly destroy the 
 accursed race, since my promised wife is taken from me : nor are the sons 
 of Atreus alone stung by that wrong, or Mycenae alone allowed to take 
 up arms. Ah ! but perhaps one ruin is enough. Rather should one sin 
 have been enough, for they should have learnt utterly to hate almost all 
 the female sex. A set of men, whose confidence is the breadth of an 
 earthwork, and to whom the delay that a trench can cause, a slight parti- 
 tion from death, gives spirits ; — have they not seen the walls of Troy built 
 by Neptune's hand sink into flames? So you, my chosen friends, which 
 of you is ready sword in hand to tear down the rampart, and with me 
 to rush into their confused camp? I have no need of Vulcan's arms, or 
 of a thousand ships, against these Trojans. Forthwith let all the Tuscans 
 unite with them. They need not fear the shades of the night, nor the 
 cowardly theft of the Palladium, when the guards at the summit of the 
 citadel were slain ; nor will we hide ourselves in the dark belly of a horse ; 
 in broad daylight, in open field, I am resolved to encompass their walls 
 with fire. I'll make them know they have not to deal with Greeks and 
 Pelasgic youth, cowards, whom Hector kept at bay to the tenth year. 
 Now then, since the better part of the day is spent, for what remains of it, 
 in joy, my men, refresh your bodies after success, and in readiness look 
 forward to the fight." In the meanwhile, to Messapus is entrusted the duty 
 of blockading the gates with the watches of guards, and of surrounding 
 the walls with night-fires. Twice seven Rutulians were chosen, to watch 
 the walls with soldiers; and they were each followed by a hundred youths, 
 whose crimson crests and golden armour gleamed. They keep watch 
 up and down, and relieve sentries, and stretched on the sward enjoy 
 themselves o'er their cups, and drain their bronze goblets. The fires 
 blaze around ; the night is passed in wakeful watch and play. 
 
 14 — 2 
 
212 VIRGIL. [IX. 168— 
 
 1 68 — 175. The Trojans guard their camp. 
 
 All this the Trojans look down upon from above, from the rampart, 
 under arms maintaining their high walls ; also with anxious dread they 
 examine their gates, and join the bridges of their bulwarks : weapons are 
 in their hands. Diligent in command are Mnestheus and Sergestus, keen 
 in spirit ; for them did father ^Eneas. if perchance danger should summon 
 them, appoint as leaders of the youths, and guardians of the common- 
 weal. Along the walls the whole host, dividing the dangers by lot, keep 
 watch, and in turns actively discharge the duties that fall to each. 
 176 — 223. The episode of Nisus and Etiryahis. Their affection. Their 
 generous conversation at the gate of the camp. 
 
 Nisus was guard of the gate, right valiant in arms, son of Hyrtacus ; 
 whom Ida, the hunter's hill, had sent to follow ^Eneas ; quick was Nisus 
 with the dart and flying arrows ; by his side was his companion Euryalus ; 
 there was not a fairer than he among all the men of ^Eneas, who had put 
 on Trojan arms; the unshorn cheeks of the boy were just streaked with 
 the early down of youth. One love the two did feel, together to the wars 
 they rushed, that night too on guard together did they keep the gate. 
 Nisus first says: "Do the gods inspire men's souls with this ardour, 
 Euryalus, or does each man make a god of his own strong passions? 
 My restless soul even from the first has been bent on entering battle, or 
 on some great attempt ; it cannot brook quiet rest. You see what con- 
 fidence in their fortunes possesses these Rutulians. Their fires glitter few 
 and far between ; buried in sleep and wine they lie ; and all is hushed 
 around. Next then hear what I plan, and what a purpose rises now in 
 my heart. That JEneas should be summoned, all, commons and senators 
 alike, earnestly demand; and that messengers be sent to bring back cer- 
 tain news. If to you they will promise the rewards I ask, for myself the 
 glory of the deed is recompense enough ; I seem to myself to be able to 
 find a way beneath yonder mound to the walls and towers of Pallanteum." 
 Astonished was Euryalus, smit with a mighty love of glory ; at once he 
 thus addresses his ardent friend: "Me then can you shrink, Nisus, from 
 making your partner in deed of danger so extreme ? Can I let you go 
 alone into such peril? It was not so that my father Opheltes, himself 
 a man of war, trained and bred me amidst the terrors of the Grecian 
 arms and the trials of Troy : nor such has been my conduct in my com- 
 panionship with you, since I have followed noble ^Eneas and the extremity 
 of fate. Here indeed is a soul that scorns life, which believes that that 
 honour to which you aspire is cheaply bought therewith." Nisus in 
 answer said : " I indeed had no such fears of you ; 'twere impious so to 
 think; not so. As I speak the truth, so may great Jove restore me in 
 triumph to you, or whatever god beholds us here with kindly eyes. But 
 if any Power (you see how many perils lie in such a hazard), if any 
 Power, be it chance, or be it god, should hurry me into adversity, I would 
 have you survive; your youth deserves life better; may there be one to 
 snatch my body from the fight, or bring it back, and consign it to a grave ; 
 or if our wonted fortune forbid as much as that, at least may pay the 
 funeral rites to the body, though not found, and honour it with a tomb. 
 Nor let me be the cause of such a woe to your hapless mother, who alone, 
 
IX. 265.] THE ALNEID. 213 
 
 my child, when other mothers did not dare so much, follows you ever, 
 regardless of the walls of great Acestes." The other said : " In vain you 
 weave a chain of idle pleas. My resolve changes not now, nor turns from 
 its purpose. Let us haste," said he. At the same instant he rouses the 
 watch, who relieve them, and take their turn ; he leaves his post, and 
 follows Nisus, as companion ; so both seek audience of the prince. 
 224 — 313. The leaders of the Trojans, and especially lulus, applaud 
 their generous courage. lulus promises that the mother of Euryalus 
 shall be to him i?i the place of Creusa. The two adventurers are 
 arined by the captains of the host. 
 All other living creatures through the world by sleep relieved their cares 
 and lulled their hearts into forgetfulness of toil: the foremost leaders of 
 the Trojans, a chosen band of youths, were holding counsel on the highest 
 matters of the state, what should they do, or who should now go as mes- 
 senger to tineas. They stand leaning on their long spears, holding their 
 shields, in the centre of the open space of the camp. Then Nisus and 
 with him Euryalus, in haste and alert, beg to be admitted; grave, say they, 
 is the matter, and worth the delay. lulus was the first to welcome the 
 hastening youths, and bade Nisus speak. Then said the son of 'Hyrtacus: 
 " Hear, I pray, with impartial minds, ye men of ^Eneas; nor judge of these 
 our offers from our years. The Rutulians unnerved by sleep and wine are 
 hushed in silence; we have ourselves observed the place for our secret 
 sally, which lies open at the double road from the gate nearest to the sea : 
 there is a break in the watch-fires, and the dark smoke is rising to the 
 stars ; if you will allow us to try our fortune, we will go to find ^Eneas even 
 as far as the towers of Pallanteum ; and soon you will behold him laden 
 with spoils, having made a great slaughter. Nor can we miss our road 
 as we journey; we have seen the distant city while constantly hunting 
 in the dark valley, and traced the bank all along the river." Then 
 spake Aletes grave in years and ripe in wisdom : " Gods of my country, 
 beneath whose eternal guardianship Troy ever is, ye do not then after all 
 intend utterly to wipe out the race of Teucer, else ye had never given us 
 young men of such brave breasts and hearts resolved." He spake, and 
 held the shoulders and hands of both, bedewing his countenance and face 
 with tears. "What reward," said he, "worthy of such virtues can I think 
 of as gifts to you, my friends ? The brightest reward of all, heaven and your 
 conscience will give you : the remainder pious ^Eneas will pay to you 
 forthwith ; and he who has all his life before him, Ascanius, will never 
 forget such great deserts" "Nay I myself adjure you both," so Ascanius 
 takes up Aletes' words, "for in my sire's return lie all my hopes of safety. 
 Yes, you, Nisus, I adjure by the great Penates and Lar of Assaracus, and 
 the central shrine of ancient Vesta; what e'er my fortunes are, whate'er my 
 trust, I put it in your care; recall my sire, restore him to my sight; if I 
 recover him there is nothing sad. I will give you a pair of cups made of 
 pure silver, embossed with figures, which my father took the day he con- 
 quered Arisba; and a pair of tripods; two great talents of gold; an antique 
 goblet, the gift of Sidonian Dido. But if it is granted me to take posses- 
 sion of Italy, and obtain the royal sceptre, a conqueror, and to settle the 
 lot of the booty : you saw the horse on which Turnus rides, the arms he 
 
214 VIRGIL. [IX. 270— 
 
 wears all golden; that very steed, the shield, the erimson crests, I will ex- 
 empt from the chance of lot ; already they are your prize, Nisus. Further, 
 my father will give you twice six chosen matrons, and captives, and all 
 the goods that each possesses ; in addition, the domain of king Latinus. 
 But you, whom my years follow at a nearer distance, a boy, yet deserving 
 reverence, even now I embrace you with my whole heart, and take you as 
 my companion for every risk. In no exploit of mine will I seek glory 
 except with you ; be it peace, or be it war, in you I will have the greatest 
 faith in word and deed." To whom thus speaks Euryalus : " That no day 
 may ever prove me unlike this brave beginning, is all I promise, whether 
 fortune fall adverse or prosperous. But above all gifts I would pray you 
 to grant me one boon : a mother I have, of the ancient race of Priam ; 
 hapless mother! she lingered not in the land of Ilium, but left with me ; she 
 stayed not in the city of great Acestes. I leave her now ignorant of this 
 risk, be it what it may be ; I bid her not farewell; Night and your right 
 hand be my witness, that I cannot bear a mother's tears. But do you, 
 I pray, comfort my helpless mother, aid the parent whom I leave. Oh 
 may I have this hope of you ; I shall go with greater courage to meet 
 every risk." Moved were their souls, the children of Dardanus shed tears; 
 above the rest the fair lulus ; his soul was touched with that reflection of 
 the love he bore to his own father. Then thus he speaks : " Promise to 
 yourself all that is worthy of your great attempt. Your mother shall be 
 mine, Creusa all but in name; for not little are the thanks due to one 
 who has such a son. Whate'er be the result of this deed, I swear by 
 my life, my father's wonted oath, whate'er I promise you on your return 
 successful, the same shall remain good for your mother and race." So he 
 speaks with tears ; at the same time he takes the sword from his side ; it 
 was o'erlaid with gold ; Cretan Lycaon had wrought it with wondrous 
 skill, and made it to fit its ivory sheath. To Nisus Mnestheus gives the 
 skin taken from a shaggy lion ; trusty Aletes changes helmets with him. 
 Forthwith they advance armed; whom, as they go, the whole band of 
 chieftains, young and old alike, escorts with vows. Moreover fair lulus, 
 who had a soul beyond his years, and the thoughts of a man, gave many 
 a charge to be carried to his father. But the winds scatter them all, and 
 give the idle prayers to the clouds. 
 
 314: — 366. Nisus ajtd Euryalus slay many Rutulians in the camp, and 
 pass safely through it. 
 They go forth and pass the trench, and through the shades of night 
 they make for the camp which is to prove such a deadly foe, yet des- 
 tined themselves first to be a destruction to many. In confusion, in the 
 midst of sleep and wine, they see the bodies of men stretched o'er the 
 grass, the chariots placed with poles erect on the shore, the charioteers 
 among their reins and wheels, arms and cups of wine, all in medley 
 lying. First thus spake the son of Hyrtacus : " Euryalus, we must do 
 a deed of daring ; the occasion calls us ; hither lies our way. Do you, 
 lest any troop rise at our rear, be on your guard, and look carefully 
 far around you. I will lay all waste here, and lead you on by a broad 
 passage." Thus he speaks, then hushes his voice ; at the same in- 
 stant he attacks with his sword haughty Rhamnes, who, perchance, 
 
IX. 372.] THE JSNEID. 215 
 
 raised high on coverlets, was breathing forth sleep from all his breast, 
 a king himself, and to king Turnus too his favourite augur ; but fate 
 by augury he could not drive away. Three servants lying carelessly 
 amidst their weapons, and the armourbearer and , charioteer of Remus 
 he smites, for he came upon them close beneath the chariot, and with 
 the steel he cuts their drooping necks : next he lops off the head of 
 their master, and leaves the trunk heaving as the blood flows forth ; 
 the earth and their beds are warm and drenched with black blood. 
 Further he slays both Lamyris and Lamus, and young Serranus ; at 
 many a game had he played that night; distinguished for the beauty of his 
 face was he ; he lay his limbs outstretched, o'erpowered by the copious 
 god, happy if he had continued his games throughout the night, and pro- 
 longed them e'en to break of day. As a famished lion works confusion 
 through the full fold, when maddening hunger urges him on; he drags 
 and devours the feeble flock, struck dumb with terror ; he rages with his 
 blood-stained jaws. Nor less the slaughter which Euryalus wrought; he 
 too, full of fire, rages through the camp, and comes suddenly on a great 
 nameless crowd in the centre space, on Fadus too, and Hebesus, and 
 Rhcetus, and Abaris; the rest surprised; but Rhcetus wide awake, and 
 seeing all ; in his terror he slunk behind a great goblet : he tried to rise, 
 but full in his breast the Trojan close at hand buried his whole sword ; 
 then drew it forth again crimsoned with flowing death ; the other pours 
 forth his life, and as he dies vomits the wine mingled with his blood; 
 the conqueror presses forward eagerly on his stealthy work. And now 
 he was on his way to the comrades of Messapus ; there he saw the dying 
 fires were fainting, and the horses tied in careful wise were feeding on 
 the grass ; when Nisus shortly spoke, for he felt that they were carried 
 forward with over eager thirst for blood: "Let us desist," quoth he, "for 
 the unfriendly light draws near. Of. punishment we have taken enough ; 
 we have made a lane through our foe." Many are the arms of men finished 
 with solid silver that they leave behind, goblets too, and fine coverlets. 
 Euryalus carries off the trappings belonging to Rhamnes, and his belt 
 with golden studs ; these gifts once wealthy Caedicus sent to Tiburtian 
 Remulus, they were joined in friendship, though they never met; Remulus 
 at his death left them to his grandson; after his death the Rutulians 
 gained them by war and battle : these arms Euryalus now snatches up, 
 and puts them on his valiant limbs, but all in vain. Then he puts on 
 Messapus' helmet, light for wearing, adorned with plumes. Forth from 
 the camp they go, and strive to reach what seems a place of safety. 
 367 — 449. The Latin horsemen under Volscens see the hehnet of Eury- 
 alus glittering in the moonlight. They surround the wood and take 
 Euryalus. Nisus has escaped. But finding he has missed Euryalus, 
 he returns. Unable to save his friend, he avenges him and dies. 
 Meanwhile the horsemen sent forward from the Latin town were on 
 their way, whilst the rest of the battalion halts on the plain in battle array : 
 the cavalry were bringing answers to king Turnus, three hundred were 
 they, all shielded riders, Volscens was their captain. - And now they were 
 just nearing the camp, and were coming under the walls, when they see 
 the two turning a little in their course to the left, and in the glimmering 
 
216 VIRGIL. [IX. 373 — 
 
 shades of night the helmet betrayed the thoughtless Euryalus, as it 
 glittered against the moonbeams. It was not seen for nought. From 
 the line shouts Volscens : " Stand, ye men ; what the reason of your 
 journey? who are you in arms ? whither going?" They said nothing in 
 answer, but hastened their flight into the forest, and relied on the night. 
 The horsemen throw themselves in their way at the well-known cross- 
 roads on every side, guarding every exit with a ring of watchers. There 
 was a forest of wide extent, shaggy with thickets of dark oak, which 
 close brambles filled throughout ; here and there shone a footpath along 
 the hidden tracks. The darkness of the boughs and the burden of his 
 spoils encumber Euryalus, and fear misleads him from the right direction 
 of the path. Nisus escapes ; and now without a further thought he was 
 safe beyond his foes, even as far as the place afterwards called Alb an from 
 Alba's name ; at that time king Latinus had there his lofty stables. The 
 moment that he stopped, and in vain looked back for his friend, who 
 was not there, he said : " Unhappy Euryalus, in what direction have I left 
 you? or whither shall I go to find you?" Again he retraces all the 
 intricate way of the perplexing forest, and tries to trace back again his 
 footsteps carefully observed, and wanders amidst the silent thickets. 
 He hears the horses, he hears the noise, and the sign of pursuers. ; Tis 
 but a short time more, and a shout reaches his ears, and then he sees 
 Euryalus ; him just at that moment the whole band seizes overpowered 
 by the deception of the place and of the night, as suddenly the crowd 
 confounds him ; vain are his many efforts to escape. What could his 
 friend do ? by what force of arms should he venture to rescue the youth ? 
 Should he rush into the midst of the foe to certain death, and seek a 
 quick and noble death by many a wound? Hastily brandishing his 
 spear with his arm drawn back, he looks up to the moon high in heaven, 
 and thus he prays : " Do thou, O queen, do thou propitious come to aid 
 my effort, thou glory of the stars, thou guardian of the woods, Latona's 
 child ; if ever for me my father Hyrtacus brought gifts to thy altars, if 
 ever I offered more presents from my own hunting, or hung them in thy 
 dome, or fixed them to thy holy roof ; let me confound this troop, and do 
 thou guide my dart through the air." He spake, and with the effort of 
 his whole strength he hurls his spear. Forth flies the lance and cleaves 
 the shades of night, and pierces the back of Sulmo who was looking 
 away, and there it breaks, and while the wood splits, it passes through 
 to his heart. He rolls over, and pours from his breast a stream of hot 
 blood, then is cold in death, while his sides quiver with deep-drawn 
 sobs. The troopers look round every way. Encouraged thereby, lo ! 
 again he poised a second dart from above his ear. While they are 
 bewildered, the spear passes through the temples of Tagus with a whizz, 
 and remains fixed in the pierced brain, and is hot with his blood. 
 Fiercely rages Volscens, but he sees nowhere the man who sent the dart, 
 he knows not whither in his wrath to direct his vengeance. "You, how- 
 ever," said he, in the meanwhile, " with your life's blood shall give me 
 satisfaction for the sins of both;" then drew his sword, and rushed on 
 Euryalus. Then indeed, as one amazed, frenzied, cries Nisus; he could 
 not hide himself in the covert any more, or bear such dreadful agony. 
 
IX. 475-] THE JENEID. 217 
 
 " Me ! me ! here am I, who did the deed, on me turn your swords, ye 
 Rutulians, mine is all the sin ; nought could he dare or do ; I call heaven 
 above us to witness, and the conscious stars. His only fault was too 
 much love for his unhappy friend." So spake he ; but already the sword 
 driven with force has passed through his friend's side, and rends his 
 beauteous breast. Euryalus falls and writhes in death, and the blood 
 gushes o'er his lovely limbs, and his neck sinking down reclines on his 
 shoulder. Even as when a bright flower cut down by the plough lan- 
 guishes in death, or when poppies droop their heads with weary neck, if 
 perchance they are burdened with a weight of rain. But Nisus rushes into 
 the midst ; among them all he makes for Volscens alone, on Volscens 
 alone are his efforts bent. Around him the foes collect, they close in 
 fight, they push him back on either side. He presses on with no less zeal, 
 he whirls his flashing sword, until he has buried it full in the shouting 
 Rutulian's mouth, and in the act of death he takes his enemy's life. Then 
 he threw himself on his lifeless friend, pierced with many a wound, and 
 there at last reposed in tranquil death. 
 
 O happy pair! if aught my verse can do, no day shall ever take you from the 
 memory of time, so long as the house of ./Eneas dwells hard by the immove- 
 able rock of the Capitol, and the Father of Rome holds his imperial sway. 
 450 — 472. The Rutulians discover the slaughter in the camp. The Tro- 
 jans are discouraged by the spectacle of the bloody heads of Nisus and 
 Euryalus. 
 The victorious Rutulians, masters of the booty and spoils, bore back 
 to the camp the dead body of Volscens, as mourners. Nor less in the 
 camp was the grief, when Rhamnes was found dead, and so many 
 chieftains killed in one slaughter, with Serranus and Numa too. Great 
 was the crowd that pressed up to their bodies, and to the dying men, and 
 to the place still warm with fresh slaughter, and the copious streams of 
 foaming blood. They knew the spoils, as they spake to each other, and 
 recognised the bright helmet of Messapus, and the trappings recovered 
 with labour that cost so dear. 
 
 And now Aurora, leaving the saffron couch of Tithonus, was just begin- 
 ning to sow her rising light o'er the earth, now did the sun pour forth his 
 beams, now was nature revealed by the day ; Turnus rouses his men to 
 arms, with arms himself is clad, and musters the brazen array to the fight ; 
 each whets his own rage, though with various talk. Farther, they bear 
 in front those very heads, oh piteous sight ! fixed on raised lances, and 
 they follow with loud shouts ; the heads were those of Euryalus and 
 Nisus. The hardy men of ^Eneas on the left side of the walls set their 
 array to face the foe, the right side is guarded by the river, and they 
 maintain the deep trenches, and on the tall turrets stand, but sad in 
 heart ; for the faces of their two comrades fixed on the spears in front 
 affected their minds ; they were but too well known to their unhappy 
 friends, as they dripped with black blood. 
 
 473 — 502. The lamentations ofthe?nother of Euryalus. 
 Meantime winged Fame flitting through the panic-struck town hurries 
 with her news, and speeds to the ears of the mother of Euryalus. Then 
 suddenly the warmth of life left the limbs of the wretched parent ; from 
 
218 VIRGIL. [IX. 476- 
 
 her hands fell the shuttle, unrolled was her task. Forth she flew in her 
 misery, and with a woman's shriek, with hair torn, as one frenzied, she 
 rushes straight to the walls, and the foremost ranks ; she thought not of 
 men, or of danger, or of darts ; then she fills heaven with her wails : " Is 
 it thus I see you, my Euryalus? Could you then, you who were the last 
 comfort of my old age, yes, had you the heart to leave your mother deso- 
 late, O cruel son? And when you were sent to such a risk, was not your 
 wretched parent allowed to take a last farewell? Alas, on a stranger land 
 you lie exposed a prey to Latin dogs and birds ! Nor have I, your mother, 
 laid you out in death, or closed your eyes, or bathed your wounds, using as 
 a shroud that mantle, which for you 1 wove in haste, working ever night 
 and day, beguiling the fears of old age with my web. Whither shall I go 
 to find you? or what land now holds your limbs and torn body and man- 
 gled form? Is this all, my son, that you can bring me back of yourself? 
 Is this what I followed o'er land and sea alike? Pierce me, O Rutulians, 
 if you have any feeling ; on me hurl all your darts, me first slay with the 
 sword; or do thou, great father of the gods, have pity, and with thy 
 thunderbolt send this soul thou hatest beneath Tartarus, since no other 
 way can I break the thread of cruel life." By these wailings were their 
 spirits shaken, sadness and lamentation passes through all, languid is their 
 strength, and spiritless for fight. As she thus kindles the fierceness of 
 grief, Actor and Idaeus take her, such were the commands of Ilioneus and 
 of lulus bathed in tears, and they bear her in their hands within her house. 
 503 — 524. The Rutulians make their first attack on the Trojan ca?np. 
 But the trumpet from afar with its ringing brass gave the warning of 
 its terrific note ; a shout follows, the sky re-echoes. Forward hasten the 
 Volsci, advancing the covering of their shields in line ; they prepare to fill 
 the trenches and tear down the rampart. Some look for an approach, or 
 with ladders would scale the walls, where the line is broken, and the light 
 shews through the ring of warriors, who stand less thick. To meet this 
 the Trojans pour forth every kind of missiles, and push the foe down with 
 sturdy poles, for they were trained to the defence of walls by the long war 
 of Troy. Stones too they roll down of dangerous mass, in hopes of some- 
 where breaking through the covered array of men ; whilst for all this the 
 assailants gladly endure every chance of war beneath the close shed of 
 shields. And yet they cannot longer hold out, for, where the crowded mass 
 of men presses upon them, there the Trojans roll a huge mass of rocks, 
 there they push it over ; which far and wide laid the Rutulians low, and 
 broke up the roof of arms. And now the daring Rutulians care no longer 
 to contend in blind battle, but strive with missiles to drive the Trojans 
 from the rampart. On another side, Mezentius, terrible to view, is seen 
 shaking an Etrurian pine, and throws into the town the smoking flaming 
 brand ; whilst Messapus, tamer of steeds, Neptune's son, tears down the 
 rampart, and calls for ladders to scale the walls. 
 
 525 — 529. The invocation of Calliope. 
 Ye Muses, and thou, Calliope, I pray, inspire my song ; that I may tell 
 what slaughter, what destruction Turnus wrought ; whom each warrior 
 sent down to the shades : do ye with me unfold the mighty scroll of war; 
 for you remember, Ladies, and from your memory can relate. 
 
IX. 582.] THE jENEID. 219 
 
 530 — 568. Turnus sets a tower of the Trojan ca7np on fire, and slays 
 
 many of their men. 
 
 There stood a tower, high it rose above men's eyes, tall its drawbridges, 
 well placed it was to command the foe ; which all the Rutulians strove 
 with all their might to storm, and with their utmost strength and means 
 to level; the Trojans opposed them, and defend it by hurling stones, and 
 standing thick they shoot darts through the hollow loopholes. The first 
 to throw the blazing brand was Turnus, who fixed the flames in its side ; 
 the fire fanned by the wind caught the planks, and clung to the burnt 
 doors. Troubled and confused were those within ; in vain would they 
 escape from the mischief. Whilst they crowd together and retire back 
 into the part free from the pest of flame, lo ! suddenly with its weight 
 down the tower falls, and all the sky resounds with the crash. Half dead, 
 while the huge mass followed upon them, transfixed by their own weapons, 
 or with breasts pierced with splinters of hard wood, down to the earth 
 they came. Hardly did Helenor only and Lycus escape; of these two 
 Helenor was in the springtime of youth, whom for the Lydian king his 
 slave Lycymnia reared in secret, and sent him in forbidden arms to Troy; 
 lightly was he armed with naked sword, he had no glory blazoned on his 
 shield. So when he saw himself amidst the thousands of Turnus' men, 
 and the Latin array on this side, on that side the Latin array, as wild 
 beast, hemmed in by a thick ring of hunters, rages straight against the 
 darts, and knowing well its doom throws itself upon its death, borne with 
 a bound above the hunter's spears ; e'en so the youth rushes sure to die 
 into the midst of the foe, and where he sees the weapons thickest, there 
 he goes. But Lycus, swifter far of foot, flying between the foes and the 
 darts reaches the wails, and now he strives to grasp the lofty battlement 
 with his hand, and to clutch his comrades' right hands; him Turnus 
 follows with feet and dart at once, and taunts him thus triumphant: 
 "Fool, did you hope you could escape my hands?" then seizes him as 
 he hangs, and tears him down with a large part of the wall. As when 
 some hare, or swan of snow-white forrn, is borne aloft by Jove's armour- 
 bearer, who flies on high with crooked talons, or as a lamb lamented by 
 its dam with many bleatings is snatched by the wolf of Mars from the 
 fold. On every side is raised a shout ; they onwards charge, and fill the 
 trenches with fagots ; others throw blazing brands up to the battlements. 
 569 — 589. The various fortunes of the siege. 
 
 Ilioneus with a rock, the mighty fragment of a mountain, lays low 
 Lucetius, as beneath the gate he comes with torch in hand ; Liger slays 
 Emathion, Asilas Corynseus; Liger was good with the dart, Asilas with 
 the arrow that from afar eludes the sight of men. Caeneus kills Ortygius, 
 Turnus the conqueror Caeneus; Turnus kills Itys, Clonius, Dioxippus, 
 Promulus, Sagaris, and Idas standing as a champion on the topmost 
 tower; Capys slays Privernus ; him first Themilla's lance had lightly 
 grazed ; he thoughtless cast aside his shield, and to the wound his hand 
 applied ; then on its feathers the arrow silent flew, his hand was pinned 
 to his left side, and the point buried within gashed the breathing lungs of 
 life with deadly wound. In glorious arms the son of Arcens stood; em- 
 broidered was his cloak by needle's point, brilliant did he shine in Spanish 
 
2 20 VIRGIL, [IX. 583- 
 
 dye, conspicuous by his fair face ; him his father Arcens had sent, reared 
 in his mother's grove near the streams of Symaethus, where is the altar 
 of Palicus rich with gifts and easily appeased ; Mezentius drops his spear, 
 and thrice around his head whirled with the twining thong the whizzing 
 sling, and split open the centre of the skull with full blow from the glow- 
 ing lead, and stretched him at his length on the deep sand. 
 590 — 620. Numanus taunts the Trojans, contrasting the hardihood of 
 Italians with the effeminacy of Phrygians. 
 
 Then first 'tis said Ascanius aimed a swift arrow in war; up to that 
 time he had but frightened flying beasts; and with his hand laid low 
 valiant Numanus surnamed Remulus, who lately had made his bride the 
 younger sister of Turnus. He, in front of the foremost rank, uttering 
 aloud words worthy and worthless to record, and with his heart swelling 
 at the thoughts of his new royal alliance, stalked up and down, and gave 
 himself out as some great one with his noisy clamour: "Are ye not 
 ashamed again to be cooped up within besieged walls, ye twice captured 
 Phrygians, and to screen yourselves from death behind battlements? 
 See, these are the men who woo our maidens by war! What god, or 
 what madness has driven you to Italy? Here are no sons of Atreus, 
 nor Ulysses wily in words. A hardy race are we from our birth, our 
 infants we carry down to our streams, and harden them in the icy-cold 
 water ; our boys rob sleep to hunt, and scour the woods ; to tame horses 
 is their sport, and shoot arrows from the bow. Next, our youths patient 
 of "toil, and trained to do with short fare, either subdue the earth with 
 hoes, or shake towns with war. Each time of life is worn with the use 
 of iron, and we prick the backs of our steers with the inverted spear ; 
 nor does old age that wearies others weaken our strength of soul, or 
 impair our force. Our gray locks we press with the helmet ; and ever is 
 it our delight to bear off the newly taken booty, and to live on spoil. As 
 to you, your vests are broidered, dyed with saffron or glowing purple ; 
 sloth is dear to your hearts, your pleasure is to indulge in the dance ; 
 your tunics have sleeves, your turbans ribbons. Oh ! truly Phrygian wo- 
 men are ye ; ye are not even Phrygian men : go ye over lofty Dindymus, 
 where the pipe utters the familiar tones of its unequal sound. The tim- 
 brels and Berecynthian flute of the I daean mother summon you thither; 
 leave arms to men, and give up the use of iron." 
 
 621 — 671. lulus with an arrow shoots the boaster. Apollo in the form 
 of Butes praises the boy. The Trojans recognise the god, a?id defend 
 their camp with fresh vigour. 
 
 As he uttered such boastful words, and spake such shameful indig- 
 nities, Ascanius could not brook him ; but turned towards him and from 
 his horsehair string aimed his arrow, and stretching his arms apart stood 
 firm ; but first, a suppliant, prayed and vowed to Jove : "Oh ! Jove almighty, 
 favour my daring attempt. With my own hands will I bring to thy 
 temple solemn gifts, and place before thy altar a snow-white bullock, 
 as tall as its mother, such as shall begin to butt with its horn, and 
 scatter the sand with its feet." The Father heard his prayer, and from 
 a clear quarter of the heavens thundered on the left ; at the same in- 
 stant twanged the death-dealing bow, and the arrow drawn to the 
 
IX. 683.] THE JENEID. 221 
 
 breast flies with a dreadful whizz, and passes through the head of Remu- 
 lus, and pierces his hollow temples with its iron point. " Go to," said 
 lulus, "mock valour with vaunting taunts. The twice-captured Phrygians 
 send back this answer to the Rutulians." Ascanius said no more. The 
 Trojans follow his words with a shout, and cry aloud for joy, and raise 
 their spirits to the stars. 
 
 It chanced that then the god Apollo of the flowing hair from the 
 region of the sky was looking down upon the Italian lines and the 
 town, throned on a cloud ; he with these words addresses victorious lulus : 
 " Go on, my boy, in this your youthful valour. This is the way to heaven, 
 O son of gods, and future sire of gods. 'Tis meet and right that under 
 the race of Assaracus all wars destined to come in the future should 
 subside in peace ; nor can Troy contain you." As thus he spake he drops 
 from the lofty sky, he parts the blowing breeze, and flies straight to 
 Ascanius. Then he transforms his appearance into that of old Butes. 
 ' He had first been armourbearer to Dardanian Anchises, and trusty 
 guard at his palace-gate ; next did Ascanius' father give him as an 
 attendant to his son. Apollo seemed to come in all things like the old 
 man, in voice, and complexion, in gray hair, in arms that sounded fierce ; 
 and thus he speaks to lulus glowing with glory: "Content yourself with 
 this, son of ^Eneas, that by your arrow Numanus has fallen, and you 
 unhurt ; the great Apollo grants you this as your first glory, and envies 
 you not a weapon, like his own ; for the rest, while yet a boy, abstain from 
 war." Apollo thus had begun his speech, and then cut short his words, 
 and left mortal eyes, and far away from human sight melted into thin 
 air. The Dardan chieftains knew the god, and his heavenly arrows, 
 and heard the quiver rattle as he fled. So, warned by the words and pre- 
 sence of Phoebus, they make Ascanius quit the walls, though eager for 
 the fight ; they themselves return back to the conflict, and expose their 
 lives to the danger of the open battle. The shouts pass along the whole 
 walls by the line of the bulwarks ; they bend their strong bows, and 
 whirl their slings. The whole ground is strewn with darts ; the shields 
 and hollow helms re-echo with the blows ; the fierce fight thickens ; so 
 thick the rain coming from the west in the season of the showery 
 Kids lashes the ground ; with such a storm of hail the clouds precipi- 
 tate themselves into the sea, when Jove all grim with winds whirls the 
 watery tempest, and bursts the hollow clouds in the sky. 
 672 — 690. Pandarus and Bitias open a gate of the camp, and sallying 
 forth repulse the besiegers. 
 Pandarus and Bitias the sons of Alcanor of Ida, whom Hiaera reared 
 amidst the forest in the grove of Jove, youths as tall as the firs and I 
 hills of their country, unbar the gate trusted to them by the command of 
 their leader ; for they rely on their arms, and dare to invite the foe with- 
 in the walls. They themselves within on the right hand and on the left 
 stand in front of the towers, armed with iron, and their tall heads 
 adorned with waving plumes : like as when two lofty oaks by the clear 
 flowing streams, either on the bank of the Po, or by the side of the 
 pleasant Athesis, rise together, and raise their shaggy tops to the sky. 
 and nod with their towering crown. In burst the Rutulians, as soon as 
 
222 VIRGIL. [IX. 684— 
 
 they saw the entrance wide open. Straightway Quercens, and Equicolus in 
 beautiful armour, and Tmarus rash of soul, and martial Haemon, through- 
 out the whole line were either routed and fled, or lost their lives just at 
 the^ threshold of the gate. Then fiercer and fiercer waxes the rage in 
 their embittered hearts ; and soon the Trojans come in force to the Same 
 point, and venture to engage in close fight, and sally forth further. 
 691 — 716. Turnus comes to the rescue a?id slays Bitias and other Ti'ojans. 
 To the leader Turnus, as he raged in the opposite quarter, throwing 
 the ranks in confusion, news came that the enemy glowed with fresh 
 slaughter, and held the gates open. He abandons his enterprise ; roused 
 by savage wrath he rushes to the Dardan gate against the haughty 
 brothers. And first by the dart which he threw he laid Antiphates low, 
 for Antiphates first came in his course ; of Theban mother was the youth, 
 the bastard son of noble Sarpedon ; forth flies the Italian cornel through 
 the yielding air, and fixed in his heart pierces deep into his breast; 
 the gaping bloody wound sends forth a foaming stream, and the iron 
 point is warmed in his transfixed lungs. Then Meropes and Erymas, 
 then Aphidnus with his hand he lays low, then Bitias of glowing look and 
 furious soul ; but not with a common dart ; he would not have fallen by 
 a common dart ; but whizzing loudly came the swung falaric, whirled 
 like the thunderbolt ; it neither two ox-hides nor the trusty coat of mail 
 with its double golden scales could withstand ; suddenly down fell his | 
 monstrous limbs ; the earth gives a groan, and the huge shield thunders 
 over him. So on the Euboic shore of Baiae may fall a pile of stone, 
 which men lay in the sea, built of mighty masses prepared before ; so does 
 it come down and draw its ruin with it, and dashed deep into the sea 
 there it lies ; the main is filled with tumult, and the black sand dashed up. 
 Then with the sound trembles steep Prochyta, and Inaryme placed by 
 Jove's behest no soft coverlet on Typhceus. 
 
 717 — yjy. Pandarus shuts the gate and encloses Turnus within the 
 camp, who slays Pandarus and many others. 
 Hereupon Mars, god of war, put new spirit and strength into the 
 Latins, and roused keen courage within their souls ; but on the Trojans 
 he sent flight and black fear. From every side the assailants flock, 
 for now was given means of fight in abundance, and the warrior god 
 lighted on each soul. Pandarus sees his brother lying with outstretched 
 body ; he knows the present state of their fortune, how the turn of war 
 now swayed events. He swings the gate with great strength, turning 
 it on its hinges with an effort of his broad shoulders, and leaves many 
 of his friends shut outside the walls in the stern fight; whilst others 
 he shuts in with himself, and receives them as in they rush ; fool ! for he 
 saw not the Rutulian prince in the midst of the troop bursting in ; and 
 by his own act he shut him in the town, like a savage tiger amongst the 
 spiritless sheep. Forthwith a strange light gleamed from the warrior's 
 eyes, and his arms rattled dreadfully ; his blood-red crests quiver upon his 
 head, and from his shield he shoots forth glittering flashes. The men of 
 ^Eneas, suddenly affrighted, knew well the hated face and giant limbs. 
 But mighty Pandarus springs forward, and burning with rage at his bro- 
 ther's death, speaks thus: " This is not the bridal palace of Amata, nor is 
 
IX. 788.] THE JENEID. 223 
 
 this the centre of Ardea which within the walls of your country encloses 
 you : the camp of your foes you see ; there is no power of exit hence.'' To 
 him with a smile spake Turnus with untroubled soul : " Begin, if in your 
 heart be any courage, and close with me in fight; you shall go and 
 tell Priam how here too you have found an Achilles." So spake he. 
 The other strove with all his strength, and hurled his spear all un- 
 fashioned with its knots and rough bark. The air received the blow ; 
 Saturnian Juno turned aside the wound it should have made, as on it 
 flew ; in the gate is fixed the spear. " But not so my weapon shall you 
 escape, which my right hand wields with strength ; unlike to you is he 
 who owns this sword, and deals this wound." He spoke, and rose, as high 
 he lifts his sword, and with the steel cleaves the centre of the forehead 
 between the temples, cutting the giant face with hideous gash. A crash 
 is heard; the earth is shaken with the monstrous weight. The dying 
 man stretches upon the ground his fallen limbs, and armour spattered 
 -with the bloody brain; in equal parts his head is shared and hangs from 
 either shoulder. The Trojans turn, and scattered fly in hurried panic ; 
 and had the conqueror forthwith thought but this, that with his hand the 
 barriers he should burst, and let his comrades in through the gates, that 
 day had been the last to the war and the nation alike. But rage, and 
 frenzied thirst of blood, drove him burning onwards right against the foe. 
 First Phalaris he overtook ; then Gyges hamstrung from behind ; their 
 spears he snatches up, and hurls them at the- backs of the flying herd ; Juno 
 supplies strength and vigour to the chief. To these he adds Halys as com- 
 panion in death, and Phegeus with his shield transfixed ; then ignorant 
 on the walls, and stirring fight, Alcander he slays and Halius, Noemon 
 and Prytanis. Lynceus went to meet him, and called his comrades, whom 
 Turnus from the right with brandished sword and effort from the rampart 
 anticipates ; at once his head, struck down in conflict close by single 
 blow, lay at a distance with his helmet. Next did he slay Amycus, who 
 cleared the woods of game, unrivalled in his happy skill of anointing his 
 arrows and arming their points with poison ; and Clytus he slew, the son 
 of ^Eolus, and Cretheus the Muses' friend, Cretheus the Muses' mate, to 
 whose heart dear were songs ever, and harps, and harmonies attuned upon 
 the strings ; ever of steeds, and arms, of men and battles, did he sing. 
 778 — 818. At lettgth Mnestheus and the Trojans drive Turnus to the 
 
 walls, from which he springs, like Codes, into the river, and swims 
 
 back safe to his companions. 
 At length the Trojan captains, for they heard of the slaughter of their 
 men, join together, even Mnestheus and Sergestus keen in fight, and see 
 their comrades straggling in flight, and the enemy within the walls. And 
 Mnestheus said: "Whither next, or whither do you mean to fly? Have 
 you any other walls, any other battlements, besides these? Shall one single 
 man, and he, my countrymen, hemmed in on every side by your ramparts, 
 shall he make such havoc through your town, and feel no vengeance ? 
 Shall he send so many of the best of our youths to the shades of 
 death ? For your unhappy country, and your ancient gods, for the great 
 ^Eneas have you no pity, feel ye no shame, ye cowards?" By such re- 
 proaches are they fired with wrath, and rally, and in close battalion halt. 
 
224 VIRGIL. [IX. 789- 
 
 Turnus little by little withdraws from the fight, making for the river, and 
 the quarter girt by its waters. Thereupon the Trojans with greater spirit 
 press on him ; they shout aloud, they mass their bands ; as when a crowd 
 of men press hard upon a savage lion with weapons pointed at him, the 
 beast terrified, yet grim, glaring fiercely, steps backwards ; and neither 
 does rage and courage suffer him to turn in flight, nor can he, though he 
 desire it ever so much, press forward through darts and hunters. Just so 
 did Turnus hesitate and retire, yet with steps deliberate, whilst his soul 
 boils with rage. Nay even then twice did he pierce to the heart of the 
 foe, twice did he drive their troops in rout and flight along their walls. 
 But the whole band quickly from the camp unite, nor does Saturnian 
 Juno dare to supply him with strength to fight against them; for Jove 
 had sent Iris down through the sky from heaven, and she bore no gentle 
 orders to his sister, should Turnus refuse to withdraw from the lofty walls 
 of the Trojans. So then .the warrior could not stand up against them 
 with shield or sword ; with such a shower of darts cast upon him on every 
 side is he o'erwhelmed. With ceaseless rattling rings around his hollow 
 temples his helmet, and with stones is riven its solid brass ; the plume is 
 struck away from his casque ; nor can the bossy shield bear up against the 
 blows ; with spears the attack is redoubled by Trojans and by Mnestheus 
 the captain, thundering in arms. Then throughout his whole body the 
 sweat pours, and courses down in clammy stream ; to recover his breath 
 he has no power ; a painful panting shakes his wearied frame. So then 
 at last with headlong spring he throws himself with all his armour into the 
 river. The god with his yellow flood received him as he came, and bore 
 him off on his gentle ripple, and at length sent him back to his comrades 
 with the blood washed off. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 1 — 15. The council of the gods. Jupiter wonders at the angry passions 
 
 of the celestials. 
 
 Meanwhile the mansion of Olympus the abode of the Almighty is 
 opened wide, and a council is summoned by the father of gods and king 
 of men to his starry throne ; whence as he sits aloft he gazes on all 
 lands, on the Dardan camp, and Latin tribes. They take their seats in 
 the halls with folding doors. The king himself thus begins : 
 
 " Ye mighty Powers of heaven, why, I pray, is your old resolve turned 
 backward? why is there such strife in your contentious hearts? I for- 
 bade Italy and the Trojans to clash in arms. What is this discord in dis- 
 obedience to my commands? What fear has persuaded either side to 
 take up arms, and provoke the strife of the sword ? The right hour of 
 war will arrive ; see that ye hurry it not on ; when fierce Carthage in 
 days to come shall hurl on the citadel of Rome a mighty destruction, 
 and open a way through the barrier of the Alps. Then will it be lawful 
 to contend in the strife of hate, then to speed the course of war. Now 
 let matters be quiet, and consent to ratify the peace we have agreed upon." 
 16 — 61. Venus at great length inveighs against Juno, as the cause of so 
 many troubles to the Trojans, 
 
X. 62.] THE j&NEID. 22.5 
 
 In few words spake Jove ; but few were not the words in which golden 
 Venus replied : 
 
 " O Father, thou eternal potentate of heaven and earth, (what other 
 Power can I now find from whom to implore aid ?) thou seest the insults 
 of the Rutulians, and how Turnus rides conspicuous in his chariot 
 through the midst of the host, and is borne along in victorious war, 
 swollen with pride. Their closed walls protect the Trojans no longer. 
 Nay, within their gates, and on the very ramparts of their walls, they 
 now mingle in fight ; and the trenches are floating in a deluge of blood. 
 ^Eneas knows this not ; he is far away. What? wilt thou never permit 
 them to be delivered from blockade ? Lo ! a second time the walls of 
 Troy, as it is born again, a foe threatens : a second host appears, and 
 a second time against the children of Teucer rises from ^Etolian Arpi the 
 son of Tydeus. So I suppose that fresh wounds are in store for me, 
 and I, thy child, have to expect the attack of a mortal man. If in- 
 deed without thy leave, and against thy heavenly will, the Trojans made 
 Italy their aim, then let them atone for their sins, and see thou aidest 
 them not with thy help. But if they did but follow the guidance of 
 many an oracle, which Powers above and Powers below did give, who 
 now can turn back thy will? who can found a new-made destiny? why 
 need I remind thee how on the shore of Eryx their fleet was burned ? or 
 repeat the tale of the king of storms, and the raging winds stirred from 
 ^Eolia's isle? or how that Iris was driven with a message through the 
 clouds ? Now too she stirs up hell (this portion of the universe had as 
 yet not been tried), and Alecto suddenly let loose on the upper air has 
 raged like a bacchant through the midst of the towns of Italy. Touching 
 empire I am no longer moved with hope ; that hope I once had, whilst 
 fortune favoured. Now let theirs be the victory, whom thou wouldest 
 have victorious. If there be no country which thy cruel wife will allow 
 to the Trojans, I implore thee, father, by the smoking ruins of destroyed 
 Iliurn, may I be allowed to send Ascanius safe far away from this war, 
 at least may the grandson be spared. Let ^Eneas indeed be tossed over 
 strange seas, and follow the paths through which fortune leads him : 
 but this my grandson may I save, and steal him from the fell fight. 
 Amathus is mine, and lofty Paphos, and high Cythera ; I have a home 
 at Idalia : let him lay aside his arms ; there let him pass his days in- 
 glorious. Bid Carthage lord it over Italy with mighty sway ; nothing 
 from him and his children will thwart the Tyrian towns. Ah ! what good 
 to escape from the bane of war, and to have fled through the midst of 
 Grecian fires ? what good to have passed through so many dangers by 
 sea, and o'er the wide land, while the Teucri search for Latium, and a 
 new-created Pergamus? 'Twere better to have settled amidst the last 
 ashes of their country, on the soil where Troy was once, and is no more. 
 I pray thee, give the wretched back their Xanthus and Simois ; and 
 grant, O father, to the sons of Teucer again to pass through the mishaps 
 of Troy." 
 
 62 — 95. Juno in her answer retorts the charge on Vemis as the real 
 cause of all these calai7iities to the race she favotcrs. 
 Then royal Juno inflamed with mighty wrath did thus reply : 
 
 VIR. 15 
 
226 VIRGIL. [X. 63— 
 
 " Why dost thou force me to break my deep silence, and divulge by 
 words my hidden indignation ? What god or man compelled ^Eneas to 
 court war, or thrust himself as an enemy on king Latinus ? Thou 
 sayest, he sailed to Italy under the authority of Fate ; nay say rather, 
 he was driven by the ravings of Cassandra. Did I advise him to leave 
 his camp, and trust his life to the winds ? the fortune of the war and his 
 walls to a child ? Did I bid him seek a Tyrrhenian alliance and disturb 
 peaceful nations ? What god or what cruel power of mine drove him into 
 this mischief? Where is Juno here? where in all this is Iris sent down 
 from the clouds ? It is hard, I suppose, if Italians surround with flames 
 Troy at its birth, if Turnus settles in his native land, a prince whose 
 grandsire is Pilumnus, whose mother is the goddess Venilia : what then ? 
 is it not rather hard that Trojans should attack Latins with the dark 
 firebrands of war ? plough with yoked oxen lands that are another's ? carry 
 off thence booty ? What ? is it right that they should choose alliances of 
 marriage, steal betrothed maidens from their parents' bosom, plead for 
 peace with branches in their hand, but put up arms on their vessels? 
 Thou canst withdraw .^Eneas from the hands of the Greeks, and for a 
 man offer a mist and empty air ; thou canst transform ships into as 
 many Nymphs : but that I should give any help on the other hand to the 
 Rutulians, is an abomination. yEneas is ignorant and away ; well, let 
 him be ignorant and away. Thou sayest, c l have Paphos and Idalium, 
 I have lofty Cythera.' Why then dost thou meddle with a city big with 
 the throes of war ? why tempt rough souls of men ? Was it I, as thou 
 sayest, who endeavoured utterly to overthrow the tottering empire of 
 Phrygia? What, I? or rather one who threw the wretched Trojans in 
 the way of the Greeks ? What was the reason why Europe and Asia rose 
 to arms, and broke the covenant of peace by an act of robbery? Was I 
 the leader who shewed a Dardan adulterer how to force his way into 
 Sparta ? or did I furnish the weapons, or kindle war through lust ? Those 
 were the days when thou shouldest have feared for thy beloved : now 
 when it is too late thou risest against me in an unjust quarrel, and in 
 bootless bickering bandiest words." 
 
 96 — 117. Jupiter declares that the Fates must not be interfered with. 
 He confirms his declaration by an oath and a nod. 
 
 Thus pleaded Juno; and at once all the denizens of heaven mur- 
 mured assent to either side. As when rising blasts bluster confined 
 within the woods, and roll along their indistinct sounds betokening to 
 mariners coming gales. Then the almighty Father, whose is the supreme 
 power over the world, begins his speech. As he spake the lofty home 
 of the gods is silent ; earth trembles from her foundation ; hushed is the 
 lofty firmament ; then the zephyrs lull themselves to rest ; the deep 
 smoothes its surface into calm. " Listen then," says he, "and let these 
 my words sink into your souls. Since it is not permitted that the Italians 
 should unite in compact with the' Trojans ; since your strife admits no 
 end : whateer to each is his fortune to-day, what e'er hope he opens out 
 for himself, be he Trojan, be he Rutulian, difference none will I put 
 between them ; whether it be through fate that the camp is now block- 
 aded by the besieging Italians, or through Troy's hapless mistaking, and 
 
X. i6o.] THE JENEID. 227 
 
 ill-omened oracles. Nor do I absolve the Rutulians. Each man's own 
 attempt shall bring its toil and issue. Jupiter is a king that rules indif- 
 ferently for all. The Fates will find their way." By the waters of his 
 Stygian brother, by the banks of the river of pitchy torrent fire with dark 
 rapids, the Father nods in confirmation, and with his nod makes all 
 Olympus quake. Thus ended parley. Then from his throne of gold 
 Jove rises. Him in their centre the denizens of heaven attend to his 
 palace. 
 
 118 — 145. Again the Rutulians attack the Trojan camp. 
 Meanwhile the Rutulians press around at every gate, eager to slay and 
 kill the warriors, and to gird the walls with flames. But the legion of 
 Eneas' men is hemmed in within their rampart closely blockaded ; there 
 is no hope of escape. The wretched men stand on their tall towers help- 
 less, and line the walls with a thin circle. Asius the son of Imbrasus, 
 and Thymcetes son of Hicetaon, and the two Assaraci, and Thymbris 
 ' now advanced in years, with Castor, these formed the front line. Whom 
 follow the two twin sons of Sarpedon, Clarus and Hasmon, who came 
 from the hills of Lycia. Acmon of Lyrnessus striving with all his strength 
 bears a huge stone, it seemed no small fragment of a mountain ; Acmon 
 was as great as his father Clytius and his brother Mnestheus. Some 
 with darts and some with stones, they are eager to defend the town, or 
 they prepare fire, and fit the arrow to the string. In the very centre 
 stood he, who with reason was Venus' dearest care, lo ! he was there, the 
 Dardan boy ; bare is his comely head, he glitters like a jewel set in yel- 
 low gold, to grace the neck or head; or like as ivory shines, when 
 enchased by skill of man's device in box or ebony of Oricus ; his locks 
 fall profuse upon his milk-white neck, where a circle of ductile gold 
 fastens them beneath. You too, Ismarus, the spirited clans beheld, as 
 you shot arrows that dealt wounds, and tipped their reeds with poison ; of 
 noble birth were you, from a Lydian home ; where rich are the fields, for 
 the husbandmen till them, and Pactolus irrigates them with its streams of 
 gold. There too stood Mnestheus ; he had repulsed Turnus from the 
 rampart of the walls, and the glory of the deed raises him aloft in fame ; 
 Capys too was there ; from him Capua derives its name. 
 146 — 162. Meanwhile JEneas sails over the sea with Pallas and his 
 
 Etrtirian allies. 
 Thus they with one another engaged in hard warfare ; ^Eneas in mid- 
 night was sailing o'er the seas. For when from Evander's town he has 
 entered the Tuscan camp, straight to the king he goes ; he tells the king 
 his name and race; what he wants, what he can offer in return; what 
 arms Mezentius is uniting, how violent is Turnus' will ; he warns him, 
 how little faith can be put in the chances of life ; he mingles prayers with 
 warnings. Quickly resolves Tarcho, and unites his forces, and makes a 
 covenant with him ; then, for free by fate they were to embark, the race 
 of Lydia's stock embark, as Heaven willed ; and trust a foreign leader. 
 So ^Eneas' ship leads the van ; beneath the beak was seen a chariot 
 yoked with Phrygian lions ; above seemed Ida hanging, a welcome sight 
 to the exiles of Troy. Here sits the great ^Eneas, in his heart he revolves 
 the chances and changes of war ; ever close by his left sits Pallas : some- 
 
 15—2 
 
228 VIRGIL. [X. 161— 
 
 times he asks about the stars, and the course of shady night ; anon 
 of what the chief had borne by land and sea. 
 
 163 — 165. The invocation of the Muses. 
 
 Ye goddesses, now open Helicon for me, and wake your song, telling 
 what bands meanwhile accompanied ^neas from the Tuscan shores, 
 arming their ships, borne along the main. 
 
 166 — 214. The Etruscan captains and their troops. Description of the 
 towns. The sorrow of Cygnus for Phaethon. The population of 
 Mantua. 
 
 Massicus in front cuts the seas in his brazen Tiger; he led a band of a 
 thousand youths, who left the walls of Clusium, and the city Cosae ; their 
 weapons arrows, on their shoulders are light quivers, and death-dealing 
 bows. With them is Abas stern in mien ; his whole troop glittered with 
 glorious arms; and the stern of his ship shone with the gilded image of 
 Apollo. Six hundred youths tried in war had his native Populonia given 
 him ; whilst Ilva sent three hundred, Ilva an island rich in unexhausted 
 mines of the Chalybes. Third came Asylas, interpreter was he of Heaven's 
 will to man, obedient to him were the fibres of the victims, and the 
 stars of the firmament, and the cries of birds, and the presaging fires of 
 the thunderbolt. A thousand warriors he hurries onward in thick array 
 with bristling spears. These are bid to follow him from Pisae, Pisae a 
 town Alphean in origin, but built on Tuscan soil. Next Astur follows, 
 the fairest chief of all the host, Astur proud of his steed and many- 
 coloured arms. Three hundred swell the ranks, one spirit to follow Astur 
 was in all, they whose home is Caere, who dwell in the fields of Minio, 
 and the men. of old Pyrgi, and unhealthy Graviscae. 
 
 Nor would I pass you by, leader of the Ligurians, right valiant in war, 
 Cinyras ; nor you, Cupavo, though attended by few, from whose helm rises 
 the plumage of a swan : love was the crime of your house, your device was 
 your father's changed form. For they tell how that Cygnus through grief 
 for his beloved Phaethon, whilst he sings amidst the leafy poplars and the 
 shade of the trees once his sisters, and whilst he beguiles his sad love by 
 song, gradually received the white locks of old age with soft plumage, 
 and left the earth, and rose upwards to the skies, singing as he rose. 
 His son follows in his fleet the bands of warriors his equals in age, 
 and propels the huge Centaur with oars; the monstrous figure-head 
 threatens the waters, and high above the waves menaces the sea with 
 a vast rock, and cuts the deep main with its long keel. 
 
 Another too rouses a troop from his native land, Ocnus was his name, 
 the son of the prophetess Manto, and of the Tuscan river, who gave 
 to you, Mantua, walls and his mother's name; Mantua rich in ancestors ; 
 yet not all of one race ; there were three races there ; in each race four 
 peoples ; of all these was Mantua the head ; her strength was drawn from 
 Tuscan blood. Hence too did Mezentius arm five hundred warriors 
 against himself, whom their ship carried to the attack; the figure-head 
 was the river Mincius, child of Benacus ; he, garlanded with gray sedge, 
 led them o'er seas in ship of battle. 
 
 Then comes Aulestes in heavy vessel; with a hundred oars that rise 
 the waves are lashed; the waters foam, as their surface is upturned. Him 
 
X. 256.1 THE jENEID. 229 
 
 bears the monstrous Triton ; it is as though with his shell he terrified the 
 azure seas ; the shaggy front that he shews, as he swims, is that of a man 
 as far as the waist, the belly ends in a fish ; the foaming billow gurgles 
 beneath the monstrous breast. So many chosen chieftains sailed in 
 thirty ships to aid the cause of Troy, and cleft the briny plains with 
 keels of bronze. 
 215 — 257. The Sea-Nymphs, into which the ships of jQLneas have been 
 
 transformed, appear to JEneas out at sea, tell hi?n the state of affairs, 
 
 encouraging him with the hope of a great victory. 
 And now had day yielded its rule o'er the sky, and the kindly goddess 
 of light was traversing the middle of Olympus in her nightly-wandering 
 car : vEneas, for anxious thoughts denied his limbs repose, sitting directs 
 with his own hands the helm, and attends to the sails. And there behold! 
 in the middle of his course the band of those who were once as his com- 
 rades meets the chief, those Nymphs, whom the kindly goddess Cybele 
 had commanded to be deities in the sea, once ships, now Nereids ; in a 
 line they were seen swimming to his ship, breasting the waves, as many 
 Nymphs now, as once on the shore had stood brazen prows. They know 
 their former king from afar, and surround the ship, as with the circles of 
 a dance. One of all there was, who seemed the readiest speaker, Cymodo- 
 cea by name ; behind she follows, and with her right hand holds the stern ; 
 the goddess rises above the water with her back, with her left hand as 
 with an oar she glides along the placid waves. Then thus she addresses 
 the wondering prince: "Do you watch, ^Eneas, king of heavenly race? 
 Yes, watch, and slacken the bands of the sails. We are the pines of Ida 
 cut from its holy crown, now rather the Nymphs of the sea, once your 
 fleet. As the faithless Rutulian pressed us hard with fire and sword, 
 your moorings we broke, and yet we fain had stayed ; now o'er the sea 
 we seek you. The mother of the gods in pity gave us this new form, 
 and granted that we should be as goddesses, spending our lives beneath 
 the waves. But know, that the boy Ascanius is penned within wall and 
 trench in the very midst of darts, and the Latins bristling with martial 
 spears. By this time the Arcadian horse united with the brave Tuscans 
 hold their appointed ground. To oppose his centre troop to them, lest 
 they should join with those in the camp, is Turnus' fixed resolve. Haste 
 then, and with the rising dawn be the first to bid your comrades be called 
 to aims, and take your shield ; that which the lord of fire himself gave 
 you, your invincible shield, whose edge he surrounded with gold. To- 
 morrow's light, if you will not count my words as idle, will behold mighty 
 heaps of slaughtered Rutulians." She spake, and, as she left, with her 
 right hand she pushed the tall ship ; she knew the way. Through the 
 waters flies the ship, swifter than dart or arrow that rivals winds in speed. 
 Amazed at the mystery is the Trojan prince, the son of Anchises ; yet he 
 comforts his heart by the happy omen. Then briefly prays looking up 
 to the vault of heaven : " Kindly mother of the gods, thou queen of Ida, 
 to whom Dindyma is dear, who lovest towered cities, and lions yoked 
 in pairs to thy bits ; be thou now our champion for the fight, and duly 
 verify this omen, and favour, lady, thy own Phrygians with propitious 
 advent." This and no more he prayed ; and then meanwhile day returned 
 
23° VIRGIL. [X. 257— 
 
 in its orb, and hastened onward with full light, and chased away the 
 
 darkness. 
 
 258 — 286. The prince comes in sight of his own camp. The besieged 
 
 raise a shout. Turnus is still undaunted. He hastens to oppose the 
 
 enemy as they land. 
 
 He first proclaims to his comrades to follow their standards, and have 
 their spirits ready for action, and prepare for battle. And now he sights 
 the Trojans, and his own camp, as he stands en the tall poop ; when at 
 that instant he lifts his blazing shield with his left hand. The sons of 
 Dardanus raise a shout from the walls to heaven. New hope inflames 
 their rage. They hurl a shower of darts. As when beneath the dark 
 clouds the cranes of Strymon utter forth a boding voice, and stem the 
 air of heaven, screaming as they fly before the south winds with happy 
 cries. But to the Rutulian king and the Italian captains strange did 
 seem that shout; till looking round they see the sterns turned towards 
 the shore, and the whole sea as though it were flowing forward with the 
 fleet. The crest of the prince's helmet blazes, and a flame seems to pour 
 forth from the plume at its top, and the golden boss vomits forth mighty 
 fires : like as when sometimes on a clear night blood-red comets blush 
 with baleful light, or as is the blaze of Sirius, who rises bringing drought 
 and disease to suffering men, and saddens the sky with ill-omened gleam. 
 Yet for all that daring Turnus lost not heart, eager first to gain the 
 shore, and drive back from the land the coming foe. He waited not, but 
 raised their souls by his words, he is the first to upbraid his friends. "You 
 have what you prayed and wished for, the power to break through -the foe 
 sword in hand. On yourselves, my men, depends the war. Now let each 
 remember his wife and home ; now let each recall the glorious acts of his 
 sires, their deeds of worth. Let us not wait, but rush to meet them at the 
 breakers, whilst yet confused, and just landing, they stagger in their first 
 steps. Fortune favours the daring." So he says, turning in his mind 
 whom he might lead to the charge against the enemy, to whom trust the 
 siege of the blockaded walls. 
 
 287 — 307. The landing of the fleet. Tarcho' s ship is broken. 
 Meanwhile vEneas lands his comrades on gangways from the tall 
 sterns. Many wait for the retiring of the spent wave, and jumping for- 
 ward commit their bodies to the shoals ; others land by means of oars. 
 Tarcho surveys the shore, looking where the water does not surge, 
 and the breakers do not roar, but the sea without dashing glides inward 
 with the rising billows ; thither he suddenly turns his prow, and adjures 
 his comrades : " Now, ye chosen band, ply your stalwart oars, lift along 
 your ships, bear them on, cleave with your beaks this unfriendly land, let 
 the keel for itself cut deep its own furrow. Nor do I grudge to break my 
 ship at such an anchorage, if I do but once gain the land." As soon as 
 Tarcho had said this, his comrades rose to their oars, driving their ships 
 amidst the foam on the Latin shore ; until their beaks are on dry land, 
 and all the keels settle unhurt. Yet not your ship, Tarcho, for dashed 
 upon the shoals and hanging on a fatal ridge, doubtfully it balanced there 
 long, struggling with the waves ; then broke, and cast its crew into the 
 midst of the water ; the shattered pieces of oars and floating planks get 
 
X. 356.] THE sENEID. 2^1 
 
 entangled with the crew, and the retreating wave at the same time draws 
 back their feet. 
 
 308 — 361. The battle on the share. JEneas' success gives a?i omen of the 
 result. But the Italians resist bravely. 
 No sluggish loitering detains Turnus ; vigorous he hurries his whole 
 line to meet the Trojans, and marshals it against them along the shore. 
 The trumpets sound the notes of battle. The first to charge the rustic 
 troops was /Eneas ; this gave the omen of the issue ; he routed the Latin 
 band, and slew Thero, the tallest of their company, who rushing forward 
 made for ^Eneas ; the prince with the sword gashes his exposed side, pierc- 
 ing through the breastplate of brass, and the tunic rough with gold. Next 
 he strikes Lichas ripped from his dead mother's womb, and, so, sacred 
 to thee, Phoebus, in gratitude for this, that he had escaped the danger 
 of the steel, when yet an infant. Soon after this he levelled in death 
 hardy Cisseus, and giant Gyas, w T ho were laying low the ranks with 
 their clubs ; nought booted them Herculean arms and stalwart hands, or 
 their father Melampus, though he had been Alcides' friend, so long as 
 the earth supplied to the hero toilsome labours. Pharus was shouting 
 with idle boast ; behold ! the chieftain hurls his spear and fixes it in 
 the throat of the brawling braggart. You too, unhappy Cydon, while 
 you pursue Clytius, whose cheeks are downy with the earliest auburn 
 hair, your latest delight, had well-nigh fallen piteously, laid low by the 
 hand of the Dardan chief; then had you forgot your many loves ; but 
 the serried band of brothers the sons of Phorcus met the prince ; seven 
 were they, seven lances they hurl ; whereof some bound back from his 
 helm or shield idly, some his good mother turned aside, and they but 
 grazed his body. He to his trusty Achates says : " Hand me the wea- 
 pons, be sure my right hand will not hurl e'en one in vain ; these are 
 the darts that once pierced the bodies of Greeks on the field of Troy." 
 So said, and seized his mighty spear, and hurls it. It flies, and strikes 
 through the brazen shield of Maeon, tearing open breastplate and breast. 
 His brother Alcanor comes to his help, and supports his falling brother 
 with his hand ; still onwards flies the lance that sped, it transfixes his 
 arm, and stained with blood still keeps its forward course ; the right 
 arm of the dying man hangs from his shoulder by the tendons. Then 
 Numitor, snatching the lance from his brother's body, aimed it at ^Eneas ; 
 to pierce him, where he stood against him, was not granted ; the spear 
 grazes the body of great Achates. Here Clausus of Cures, reliant on 
 his strength and bloom of youth, comes up, and from afar smites Dryopes 
 with tough lance that heavily was thrust, just under the chin ; he would 
 have spoken, but at that moment both voice and life are gone, as his 
 throat is pierced right through ; he with forehead strikes the ground ; 
 from his mouth spurts the clotted gore. Three Thracians too, whose 
 line traced back to the god Boreas, and three whom their father Idas 
 and their fatherland Ismara sent, the Sabine captain slays amid the 
 changing fortunes of the fight. Up runs Halesus, and Aurunca's troop ; 
 comes to the help Neptune's son, Messapus, he conspicuous with his 
 car. They strive to push back their foes ; now struggle these, now those ; 
 at Italy's very threshold rages the conflict. As when in the vast sky 
 
232 VIRGIL. [X. 357- 
 
 contending winds raise their strife, equal is their fury, equal their 
 strength ; they will not yield to each other ; the clouds, the sea, sway 
 not either way ; doubtful is the contest long ; the winds continue strug- 
 gling ; all nature is in opposition. Even so did the Trojan and Tuscan 
 lines meet ; close is foot to foot, and man to man. 
 362 — 438. hi another part of the battle Pallas distinguishes himself. 
 
 Lausiis also fights bravely. The Fates did not permit that these two 
 
 should engage. 
 
 But in another quarter of the field, where the torrent had driven 
 stones rolling to a great distance and shrubs torn from the banks, Pallas 
 saw his Arcadians, untrained to attack on foot, fly before the pursuing 
 Latins ; the rough ground had perchance persuaded them to let their 
 horses go ; their leader, it was his last resource in distress, with prayers, 
 then with bitter reproaches, excites their courage : " Oh ! whither do ye 
 fly, my comrades ? by your doughty deeds, by the name of your chief 
 Evander, by the victories you have won, by my own hopes, which have 
 now succeeded to emulate my father's fame, I adjure you, rely not on 
 swiftness of foot. By the sword must you break your way through the 
 foe. There, where the thickest mass of men presses you hard, thither 
 our noble country expects you and Pallas to go. It is not the power 
 of any gods that distresses us sore ; a mortal foe attacks, and we are 
 mortals ; we have as many lives, as many hands as they. Lo ! the deep 
 shuts us in with a mighty barrier of sea ; there is no more land left 
 for flight : is it the sea we shall make for, or the camp of Troy ?" So he 
 speaks, and in the centre charges the thick array of enemy ; first meets 
 him Lagus ; his ill-starred fate brought the man ; as he plucks up a 
 stone of huge weight, Pallas pierces him with his hurled weapon, just 
 where down the centre of his back the spine divides the ribs ; he receives 
 the spear fixed deep in his bones. Hisbo coming upon Pallas is too 
 late, though he had hoped to be beforehand, for as he rushes on raging, 
 reckless through the cruel death of his comrade, Pallas waits his attack, 
 and buries his sword in his swelling lungs. Next he attacks Sthenelus 
 and Anchemolus of the ancient race Rhcetus, who dared to pollute his 
 step-mother's chamber. You too, Larides and Thymber, twin sons of 
 Daucus, fell in the Rutulian fields, children just like each other; their 
 own parents could not distinguish them, very pleasant it was to mistake 
 them ; but now a cruel distinction Pallas made ; for Evander's sword 
 struck off your head, Thymber ; your right hand, Larides, lopped off 
 seems to seek you, its master, whilst the fingers quiver with the remains 
 of life, and clutch at the sword. The Arcadians were inflamed by his 
 exhortation ; now they gaze at the glorious deeds of the hero : mingled 
 feelings of anger and shame arm them against the foe. Then Pallas 
 transfixes Rhceteus as he was flying by in his chariot. Just so much 
 as this was it that stopped the death of lulus ; for it was at lulus that 
 Pallas aimed his stout spear from afar ; but Rhceteus in the midst flying 
 from you, good Teuthras and your brother Tyres, intercepts the blow, 
 and rolling from his chariot he strikes the Rutulian fields with his heels 
 in the agony of death. As when wished-for winds having suddenly risen 
 in summer, a shepherd fires the forest with flames that soon spread ; the 
 
X. 455-1 THE JENEID. 233 
 
 heart of the wood suddenly catches, and then extends at once o'er the 
 broad plain the flickering flaming sword of Vulcan ; the shepherd sits on 
 high gazing down on the conflagration in triumph : like this, all the courage 
 of his comrades unites together, and helps you, Pallas. But Halesus 
 keen in war advances straight against them, and draws himself within 
 cover of his arms. He slays Ladon, Pheres, and Demodocus ; with his 
 glittering sword he lops off the hand of Strymonius raised to his neck ; 
 with a rock he strikes the face of Thoas, and scatters his bones mingled 
 with bloody brains. His father warning him of fate to come had hidden 
 Halesus in the forest ; but when the old man's aged eyes were relaxed 
 in death, then the Fates laid their hands on the youth, and doomed him 
 to fall by the weapons of Evander. At whom Pallas aims his spear, 
 having first thus prayed : " Grant now, father Tiber, to the lance that 
 I poise and hurl, a successful passage through the breast of the warrior 
 Halesus. Thy oak shall hold these arms, the spoils taken from the 
 man." The god heard his prayer ; whilst Halesus protects Imaon, the 
 unhappy man exposes his undefended side to the Arcadian dart. But 
 Lausus, himself a great part of the strength of the war, suffers not the 
 troops to be daunted by the dread death of the hero ; and first he slays 
 Abas who was opposed to him, Abas who was the pith and stay of the 
 fight. The Arcadian men of war are laid low ; low are the Tuscans 
 laid ; and ye Trojans too, lives that had escaped from the Greeks. So 
 the ranks meet in battle with strength and captains fairly matched. The 
 rear close up the line ; so thick the throng, they will not let weapons 
 or hands move. On one side Pallas presses eagerly forward ; on the 
 other side Lausus ; well-nigh equals in age were they ; both passing fair 
 in form ; but yet fortune denied them return home. The lord of high 
 Olympus would not however allow them to engage each with the other ; 
 their own fates await them, for either soon to fall beneath a greater foe. 
 439 — 509. Turnus attacks Pallas, who prays to Hercules. The god 
 looks on with unavailing sorrow, but is reminded by his father 
 Jupiter of the common lot of mortality. Turnus kills Pallas, but 
 restores his body to his co?npanions. 
 Meanwhile his kindly goddess-sister warns Turnus to come to Lausus' 
 aid ; Turnus in his swift chariot cuts through the midst of the line. 
 When he saw his comrades ; " It is time," quoth he, "for you to desist from 
 fight ; alone do I go against Pallas ; to me alone is Pallas due ; would 
 that his parent were here to behold the fight." So he speaks ; his com- 
 rades give place from the appointed ground. But as the Rutulians with- 
 draw, the youth thereupon wondering at his proud commands stares 
 amazed at Turnus, o'er that giant form he rolls his eyes, scanning all afar 
 with stern countenance. And with these words he meets the words of 
 the monarch : "Soon shall I be glorious for having won the noblest spoils, 
 or for a glorious death. My father is prepared for either issue. A truce 
 to threats." He spoke, and advances into the centre of the ground. 
 The blood of the Arcadians is chilled and stiffens within their hearts. 
 Down from his chariot sprang Turnus ; on foot he prepares to go to fight 
 hand to hand. Even like a lion, when from a commanding height he sees 
 a bull standing far off in the plain, essaying the fight, then he bounds 
 
234 VIRGIL. [X. 456— 
 
 forward; like his was the look of Turnus, as he came. When Pallas 
 believed that he was within reach of a cast of his spear, he would try 
 his chance first, if perchance fortune would aid his venture, though with 
 strength ill-matched ; and thus he speaks, looking up to the high heaven : 
 " By the hospitality my father once shewed thee, by the table, where thou 
 a stranger didst sit, I pray thee, Alcides, help my great attempt ; let 
 Turnus behold me rob him in the moment of death of his blood-stained 
 arms, and let his glazing eyes endure me as conqueror." Alcides heard 
 the voice of the youth ; deep was the groan he stifled within his heart, 
 and he poured forth unavailing tears. Then the Father of the gods 
 addresses his son with loving words ; "To each man comes his appointed 
 day ; short and irreparable is the span of the life of all ; but to enlarge 
 the bounds of fame by valiant feats, that is virtue's work. Beneath the tall 
 towers of Troy how many of the sons of the gods fell ! yea, there fell too 
 Sarpedon, my own child. Even Turnus his own fates now summon, and 
 he has reached the goal of his allotted life." So speaks the Father, and 
 turns his eyes away from the Rutulian fields. But Pallas hurls his spear 
 with mighty strength, and snatches his flashing sword from his hollow 
 scabbard. The spear flying, where the top of the protecting armour rises 
 on the shoulders, lights in its course, and forcing its way through the rim 
 of the shield, at length too grazed the great body of Turnus. Then 
 Turnus brandishes for a long time his oaken spear, tipped with sharp 
 steel, and thus he speaks : " See, whether my weapon be not more 
 piercing." So he spake; the spear's point with quivering blow strikes 
 through the centre of the shield, through all the plates of iron and brass, 
 though so many times the folds of hide were cast round ; it pierces the 
 barrier of the breastplate, it passes into his strong chest. He in vain 
 snatches at the reeking dart to tear it from his wound ; by one and the 
 same passage both blood and life follow. He falls upon the wound; his 
 armour clashes over him ; dying he bites the hostile land with bloody 
 teeth. Turnus stood o'er him, then says : "Arcadians, remember to carry 
 back my words to Evander ; such as he deserves, Pallas I restore. 
 Whate'er is the honour of a tomb, whate'er the solace in a burial, that I 
 freely give. Dear will cost him his hospitality to ^Eneas." And as he so 
 spake, he bestrode with his left foot the lifeless corpse, spoiling him of the 
 belt of heavy weight with tale of horrible crime thereon inlaid ; in one 
 wedding-night a band of youths foully murdered, and bridal chambers 
 dabbled with blood ; a scene that Clonus the son of Eurytus had emboss- 
 ed with much gold: in which, as his booty, Turnus now exults, and is 
 glad to have won it. The heart of man knows not its coming fate and 
 fortune, nor how to keep the bounds of moderation, when tempted to 
 pride by prosperity. The time will come to Turnus, when gladly would 
 he purchase at a great price never to have touched Pallas, and when he 
 shall hate these spoils and the day he won them. But with many groans 
 and tears his comrades crowding round bear Pallas back laid on his 
 shield. Alas ! to your parent you are to return, a source of great grief, 
 and great glory. This was your first day at the war, this your last and 
 fatal one : and yet you leave on the field great heaps of Rutulians slain. 
 5 10 — 605. ALneas hearing of the death of Pallas makes a great slaughter 
 
X. ?62.] THE MNEID. 235 
 
 of the enemy. The besieged Trojans and lulus at last burst fro7n the 
 
 camp. 
 And now it is no longer the mere rumour of a great misfortune, but a 
 surer messenger that hurries to ^Eneas ; he tells him his friends are at the 
 very edge of ruin : 'tis high time, he says, that he hasten to the aid of the 
 routed Trojans. With his sword he reaps down all the nearest ranks, and 
 through the troops makes with his steel a broad path in his fury. Pallas, 
 Evander, the whole scene is present to his eyes ; the hospitable board, the 
 first to which he as a stranger came, and the right hand of friendship 
 then proffered. Then he takes alive four sons of Sulmo, as many of 
 Ufens, to offer them as victims to the shades of his friend Pallas, and to 
 pour over the flames of the funeral pile the blood of these captives. Then 
 at Magus from afar he hurled the spear that he aimed ; Magus warily 
 runs under it ; the quivering lance flies o'er the coward, who clasping his 
 knees speaks thus in supplication : " By thy father's manes, by the hope- 
 ful promise of lulus rising to man's estate, I pray you, spare my life for 
 son and sire alike. I have a high-built house, therein lie safely stored 
 talents of embossed silver ; I have massy ingots of gold wrought and un- 
 wrought : on such a poor life as this the victory of Troy does not depend ; 
 nor can one such life make so great a difference." He spoke ; ^Eneas 
 answers thus : " As to the many talents of silver and gold you tell me of, 
 keep them for your children. Such trafficking in war as you would have, 
 Turnus was the first to close, even then when he slew Pallas. So feels 
 my father's spirit, so feels lulus." He spoke, and with his left hand holds 
 the helmet of the suppliant, then bends his neck backward, and to the 
 hilt drives in the sword. Not far from thence was Haemon's son, priest of 
 Phoebus and Trivia ; the ribbons of the holy fillet adorned his temples ; 
 all his body glittered with his spangled robe and glorious armour: ^neas 
 met this priest, and drove him before him; the Trojan bestrode the fallen 
 man, and with the dreadful shades of death envelopes him; the arms 
 spoiled from his body Sergestus carries back, a trophy to thee, great lord 
 of war. Then Caeculus of Vulcan's race, and Umbro who came from the 
 Marsian hills, reinforce the ranks. The Dardan chief rages against them. 
 With his sword he smote off Anxur's hand, and the steel struck down the 
 whole orb of his shield ; Anxur had uttered some vaunting boast, believ- 
 ing that there was force in his words, and perchance lifted his proud soul 
 to heaven, promising to himself gray hairs, and a length of years. Tar- 
 quitus springs forth to meet him in glittering arms, Tarquitus whom the 
 Nymph Dryope bore to Faunus of the woods ; he threw himself in the 
 way of the raging chief. The prince drew back his spear, and with it 
 pierces and holds his breastplate, and huge heavy shield ; then as he 
 pleaded in vain, and had many a prayer ready, he strikes his head to the 
 ground ; and, spurning the warm body, standing above, so speaks from his 
 pitiless heart : " There now lie, you dreaded chief. No good mother shall 
 bury you, nor cover your limbs in the sepulchre of your fathers ; you shall 
 be left to be the prey of wild birds ; or the wave shall toss you sunk within 
 its eddies, and hungry fish suck your wounds." Straightway he pursues 
 Antaeus and Lucas, warriors who fought in Turnus' van, and valiant 
 Numa, and yellow-haired Camers, the son of ncble-minded Volscens, the 
 
236 VIRGIL, [X. 563- 
 
 richest in land of all the Italians, once king in silent Amyclse. ^Egaeon 
 was such as this, of whom they tell that he had a hundred arms, and a 
 hundred hands, fifty mouths and fifty chests, from which flames blazed, 
 in the day when he fought against the thunderbolts of Jove with fifty 
 clanging shields, and fifty drawn swords : even so ^Eneas raged victor 
 o'er the whole plain, so soon as his sword's point tasted warm blood. Lo ! 
 next against Niphseus' four-horse chariot the hero goes, and met him face 
 to face ; the steeds, when from afar they saw the chief stalking along, 
 raging dreadfully, turned in terror, and rushing back throw their driver 
 out, and hurry the car off to the shore. Meanwhile Lucagus drives into 
 the midst of the host in his chariot drawn by two white steeds ; with him 
 was his brother Liger; Liger wheels his steeds, turning them with the 
 reins ; Lucagus fiercely brandishes in circles his drawn sword. ^Eneas 
 brooked not to see them rage with such fury ; on he rushes, and shews 
 himself in his great strength with his spear pointed at them. To whom 
 Liger thus spake: "You see not here the steeds of Diomede, or the cha- 
 riot of Achilles, nor the plains of Troy ; here now in this land an end shall 
 be put to the war, and to your life." Such words fly abroad uttered by 
 Liger in his senseless vaunts ; words in reply the hero of Troy is not 
 careful to prepare ; but hurls his lance against the enemy. Lucagus 
 hangs forward as though in act to lash, and with his weapon's point urges 
 his steeds ; his left foot is stretched forward, he prepares for the fight ; 
 then a spear passes through the lowest rim of his shining shield, and 
 pierces his left groin ; knocked out of his chariot he rolls in the agony of 
 death on the plain. Him the pious ^Eneas addresses with bitter words 
 of scorn : "Lucagus, you cannot say the sloth of your steeds betrays your 
 chariot, or that idle shadows makes them fly from the enemy; of your 
 own choice you spring from your chariot and abandon your pair of 
 steeds." So he spake, and seized the horses. The unhappy brother, falling 
 from the same chariot, stretched forth his unarmed hands : " I intreat 
 you, Trojan hero, by your own life, by your parents who bore you such a 
 son, spare my life, and have mercy on my prayers." He would have 
 added more; but the chieftain said: "Your tone is altered soon. So die. 
 A brother should not from a brother part." Then with his sword he lays 
 open his breast, where dwelt within his life. Such slaughter o'er the 
 field the Dardan chieftain wrought, raging like the torrent of a stream, 
 or a black tempest. At length burst forth, leaving their camp, the boy 
 Ascanius, and the warriors in vain besieged. 
 
 606 — 632. Juno obtains permission from Jupiter to rescue Turnus from 
 
 death. 
 Meanwhile Jupiter first addresses Juno : "O thou at once my sister, and 
 rny loving wife, 'tis forsooth as thou didst suppose, Venus alone (for surely 
 thy judgment cannot err) sustains the hopes of Troy ; these Trojans indeed 
 have no hands vigorous in war, no martial courage forsooth, or endurance 
 in dangers." To whom Juno submissively replies : " Why, fairest spouse, 
 vex me sick at heart, dreading thy words severe? If my love had that 
 power which it once had, and which it ought to have, thou wouldst not sure- 
 ly deny me this boon, almighty Jove, nor grudge my withdrawing Turnus 
 from the fight, and keeping him safe for his father Daunus. Now then let 
 
X. 665J THE JENEID. 237 
 
 him die, and lose his pious life for the Trojans' sake. And yet he has his 
 name traced from the race of heaven, and Pilumnus is his ancestor in the 
 fourth generation back ; and oft with bounteous hand and many a gift he 
 has enriched thy temples." To whom the king of ethereal Olympus briefly 
 replies : " If what thou implorest for the youth doomed to early death is 
 a respite from instant fate, and a span of life, and so thou interpretest my 
 decree, rescue Turnus by flight, save him from imminent death. So far 
 indulgence has a place. But if some deeper meaning is concealed beneath 
 thy prayers for pity, if thou supposest the whole war can be altered or 
 changed, idle are the hopes thou cherishest." Juno replied, bursting into 
 tears : " And yet perhaps what thy words deny, thy purpose yet may grant ; 
 perhaps life may remain ensured to Turnus. Not so; now a sad end 
 awaits the youth, which he deserves not ; or else I have no true forebod- 
 ings. But rather, still, oh ! may I be the sport of idle fears; and mayest thou, 
 who hast the power, have the will to turn thy purpose to a better issue." 
 633 — 688. The goddess deceives Ttirtius with the wraith of jEneas, 
 which flying into a ship is followed by Turnus. He is carried out to 
 sea, not without grievous complai)its of the disgrace he involuntarily 
 suffers, and is borne by the waves and winds to Ardea. 
 She spoke, and forthwith from the lofty sky descended swift, girt 
 with a tempestuous cloud, driving a storm before her through the air; 
 and flew straight for the Trojan lines and Laurentian camp. Then the 
 goddess out of a hollow cloud fashions a thin phantom void of strength, 
 a strange form of wondrous shape ; to make it like yEneas, she adorned 
 it with the Dardan arms ; in it she imitates the shield and plumed helmet 
 of the head of the hero chief ; gives it spectral words, a voice without 
 thought, and shapes it with the gait of the prince as he walks in life: such 
 are the flitting figures which they tell us appear of men after death, such 
 are the dreams that delude our senses in deep sleep. But see ! the phantom 
 joyously exults in the front of the line of battle, and with brandished 
 weapons challenges the chief, and provokes him with taunts. Turnus 
 rushes to the attack, and from afar hurls his whizzing lance ; the image 
 turns its back and flies. But when the prince fancied that ^Eneas turned 
 and yielded, excited with a bewilderment of joy he drank draughts of 
 idle hope : "Whither do you fly, jEneas?" quoth he ; "forsake not, I pray, 
 your betrothed bride. This hand will give you the land you sought 
 with trouble o'er the waves." With shouts like these he follows, and 
 brandishes his drawn sword ; he sees not that the winds bear his fancied 
 joys. By chance a ship stood there, joined to a ledge of a lofty rock 
 with planks stretching out, and a gangway ready laid ; in that ship was 
 king Osinius borne from the shores of Clusium. Thither hurries the fly- 
 ing phantom of ^Eneas, and hastens to this hiding-place ; Turnus is as 
 swift to pursue, and delays not an instant, and bounds o'er the high 
 raised bridge. Hardly had he set foot on the prow, when Juno breaks 
 the rope, and bears the ship quickly o'er the billows rolling back, ^neas 
 meantime calls for the absent foe, daring him to fight; and many of his 
 troops he meets, and sends them down to the shades of death. Then the 
 airy wraith no longer seeks a hiding-place, but flies aloft and fades into 
 a dark cloud ; meanwhile the whirling tide bears Turnus far out to sea. 
 
238 VIRGIL. [X. 666— 
 
 He looks back, he knows not what this means, he is ungrateful for a life 
 saved, and raises his folded hands and lifts his voice to the sky : "Almighty 
 Father, couldst thou think me worthy to be disgraced by such a crime, and 
 could it be thy will that I should suffer such a dreadful punishment ? 
 Whither am I carried? Whence am I come? How shall I escape back? 
 or with what character shall I return ? Shall I ever again behold the 
 Laurentian walls and camp ? What will become of that valiant band of 
 men, who followed me and my cause, and all of whom (oh, shameful 
 crime !) I have left behind in the jaws of cruel death? E'en now I can see 
 them struggling o'er the field, I hear the groans of the dying. What am 
 I to do? What earth will yawn deep enough to swallow me? Nay rather 
 do ye, O winds, pity me, on rocks, on crags (with all my heart I Turnus 
 implore you,) dash the ship, or drive it into the cruel quicksands, where no 
 Rutulians, no fame that I can feel, may ever follow me." So speaking, 
 in his heart he fluctuates hither and thither ; doubting, whether maddened 
 by such a dire disgrace he should bury the sword's point and drive its 
 keen edge through his ribs, or throw himself into the midst of the waves, 
 and swimming make for the winding shore, and again return to fight the 
 Trojans. Thrice either way he tried ; thrice Juno's power restrained him, 
 and pitied the youth's sorrow and checked his purpose. On glides the 
 ship, cleaving the deep sea with waves and tide driving it on; and he is 
 borne along to the ancient city of his father Daunus. 
 689—754. Mezentius takes the place of Turnus. He slays many of the 
 
 enemy. 
 Meanwhile by Jove's warning fiery Mezentius reinforces the warriors, 
 and attacks the Trojans in the hour of their triumph. Him meets the 
 Tuscan line, with hatred all combined against one single man, on one 
 their shower of darts they hurl. He stood firm, like a rock, which jutting 
 into the vast deep, exposed to the fury of the winds, breasting the main, 
 bears the collected force and threats of sky and sea, itself unmoved en- 
 during; low on the ground he lays Hebrus the son of Dolichaon, and 
 Latagus with him, and Palmus who was flying; Latagus he anticipates, 
 striking his mouth and face in front with a stone, the huge fragment of 
 a mountain; the craven Palmus hamstrung he leaves rolling on the 
 ground; and gives the armour to Lausus to wear on his shoulders, the 
 crested helmet to adorn his head. Next he slays Evanthes the Phrygian, 
 and Mimas born at the same hour as Paris, afterwards his comrade ; for 
 on one and the same night Theano bore him to his father Amycus, and 
 the queen the daughter of Cisseus pregnant with a torch bore Paris: 
 Paris lies dead in his native land; the Laurentian soil holds Mimas un- 
 known to fame. And like a wild boar driven from the high hills by biting 
 hounds, w T hom pine-clad Vesulus has defended for many years, for many 
 years his lair has been the Laurentian marsh ; there has he fattened on 
 the thick reeds ; when he is among the toils, he stands at bay, and rages 
 fiercely, and raises his bristles on his back ; not a man has the courage 
 to shew anger or approach nearer; but they attack with darts thrown 
 from afar, and shouts in which there is no risk; whilst the undaunted 
 beast turns deliberately on every side, gnashing with his teeth, and shak- 
 ing the spears from his back. Just so, though righteous is their anger 
 
X. 769c] THE ^EMEIB. 239 
 
 against Mezentius, yet there is not a man of them who dares to meet him 
 close with drawn sword ; with darts from afar, and noisy shouts they pro- 
 voke him. From the land of old Cortona came Acron ; he was a man of 
 Greece ; an exile he fled ere his marriage was finished ; Mezentius saw 
 him afar throwing into confusion the centre line, as he shone brightly 
 with his crest, and the purple robe woven by his betrothed. Like a hun- 
 gry lion often roams round the pen defended by high walls, for maddening 
 famine tempts him, if perchance he perceives a rapid running roe, or a 
 stag butting with tall horns, he rejoices gaping frightfully, and raises his 
 mane, and remains stooping o'er his booty's entrails ; foul gore bathes his 
 greedy maw. So fiercely rushes spirited Mezentius against the thickest of 
 the foe. Unhappy Acron is laid low, and strikes the dark ground with his 
 heels as he dies, besmearing with gore the broken weapon. Orodes was 
 flying ; but he did not deign to slay a flying man, nor to inflict an unfore- 
 seen wound with the thrown spear : but meets him face to face, running ' 
 up, and engages with him, man against man, stronger not by stealth, but 
 in valiant arms. Then o'er the fallen warrior he trod with foot fixed and 
 lance : " Orodes once so proud lies low," quoth he, " no contemptible por- 
 tion of the war." His following comrades raise the shout of triumph. The 
 dying man breathing out his spirit said: "Whoe'er you are, not long 
 shall I be unavenged, nor shall you long exult in victory ; you too like 
 end awaits, and soon shall you lie on the same field." To him with smile, 
 but smile of wrath, Mezentius replies : " Now die : about me the father of 
 gods and king of men will surely see." He spoke, and from his body drew 
 the point. Then iron sleep and rest not soft closed the eyes of the fallen 
 man ; their orbs are shut in everlasting night. Casdicus slays Alcathous, 
 Sacrator kills Hydraspes; and Rapo Parthenius, and hardy stalwart 
 Orses ; Messapus slays Clonius and Ericetes son of Lycaon ; the one as 
 he lay on the ground, thrown by his ungovernable steed ; the other on foot 
 he on foot killed. Lycian Agis stepped forward; and yet Valerus, not 
 without his part in his ancestor's valour, lays him low; then Salius con- 
 quers Thronius, himself to fall by Nealces, renowned for throwing the 
 lance, and for snooting the arrow that surprises from afar. 
 J5$ — 790. The fortunes of the battle are equal till JEneas wounds 
 
 Mezentius. 
 Now did cruel Mars divide equally the sorrows and mutual deaths on 
 either side ; by turns they slew, and by turns were slain, victors and 
 vanquished alike in either host ; for neither party knew what it was to 
 fly. The gods in the palace of Jove pity the vain fury of both armies, 
 and grieve there should be such woes to mortal men : Venus and Juno, 
 Saturn's daughter, gaze, but with different hopes ; the ghastly Fury 
 rages in the midst of thousands. Then did Mezentius brandishing a 
 huge spear stalk excited o'er the plain ; as great as Orion, who, walking 
 on foot through the deep waters of the very middle of the sea, making 
 himself there a path, yet rises above the billows with his shoulders ; or 
 carrying down an ancient ash from the summit of the mountains, has Iris 
 feet on the earth, his head shrouded by the clouds of heaven : such was 
 the appearance of Mezentius, as he advanced with his giant arms. On 
 the other side ^Eneas, having seen him from afar, prepares to go and 
 
240 VIRGIL. [X. 770— 
 
 meet him. Undaunted remains Mezentius, awaiting his noble foe, stand- 
 ing massive in his might ; then measuring with his eyes the space of his 
 spear's cast ; u Now," said he, "may my own right hand, my true divinity, 
 and this my dart that I brandish propitious help me; I vow that you, my 
 Lausus, clad in the arms taken from the body of the pirate ^Eneas, shall 
 yourself be the trophy." He spake, and hurls from afar his whizzing 
 lance ; it flies, then glances from the shield, and from afar pierces noble 
 Antores between his side and bowels ; Antores was the comrade of Her- 
 cules ; he came from Argos, then to Evander attached himself, and settled 
 in an Italian town : the unhappy man is laid low by a weapon meant for 
 another, and looks up to heaven, and as he dies remembers his beloved 
 Argos. Then pious yEneas hurls his spear ; it passed through the hollow 
 round shield made of triple brass, through the linen folds, through the 
 woven workmanship of three bulls' hides ; at last its point fixes in his 
 groin ; further it carried not its force, now spent. Quickly from his thigh 
 ^Eneas, glad to see the blood of the Tuscan chief, draws his sword, and 
 eagerly presses on his confused foe. 
 
 791 — 832. The valour of Lausus. He saves his father. He will not be 
 persuaded by ^ILneas to retire, and is slain by him. The Trojan pities 
 the youth, and spares his armour, and gives up his body. 
 Lausus in his affection for his beloved father groaned deeply at the 
 sight; tears coursed down his cheeks. Here I, as far as in me lies, will 
 tell of the misfortune of your cruel fate, and of your noble deed, in hopes 
 that late posterity may not disbelieve so generous an exploit; nor will 
 I pass you by in silence, youth, who deserve to be made memorable. The 
 father, trailing his foot, helpless and hampered now withdrew, dragging 
 his enemy's lance fixed in his shield. The son burst forward, and 
 mingled in the fray; then as ^Eneas rose, lifting his hand to deal a 
 blow, he came under the sword's point, and sustaining the attack de- 
 layed the chief; his comrades follow shouting loud ; whilst the father pro- 
 tected by the son's shield withdrew; and cast their darts, and with 
 missiles from afar keep off the foe. ^Eneas, chafing, covered by his shield, 
 stands at bay. Even as it happens if stormy clouds descend rattling 
 in a shower of hail, in every direction each ploughman and each husband- 
 man flies at once from the fields ; the traveller lies hid in safe screen, either 
 under the bank of a river, or the arching roof of a tall rock, whilst it rains 
 on the land ; hoping that, when the sun is returned, they may employ 
 the day in industry: thus ^Eneas, on every side overwhelmed by darts, 
 sustains the whole storm of war, as it thunders on his head ; meanwhile 
 upbraiding Lausus, menacing Lausus : " Whither do you rush to instant 
 death, and venture on attempts too great for your youthful strength? 
 Duty and love beguile you to forget." But none the less the youth 
 exults madly; and now higher rose the fierce wrath of the Dardan captain, 
 and the Fates spin the very last threads of the life of Lausus ; for yEneas 
 drives his strong falchion through the body of the youth, burying it deep ; 
 and the sword's point passed through the shield, the light armour of the 
 menacing youth, and through the coat which his mother had woven with 
 threads of ductile gold ; the blood filled his bosom ; then life sadly with- 
 drew through the air to the shades below, and left his body. But when 
 
X. 870.] THE jENEID. 241 
 
 ^Eneas saw the face and countenance of the dying prince, his face o'er- 
 
 spread with strange paleness, he groaned deeply in pity, and stretched 
 
 his hand forth, and the image of his own parental love touched his heart: 
 
 What now to you, lamented boy, for this your honoured deed, what shall 
 
 the pious ^Eneas give you worthy of such a noble soul? Keep your arms, 
 
 in which you delighted ; I restore you to the spirits and ashes of your 
 
 fathers, if aught such rights avail. And yet this may comfort you in your 
 
 sad death ; you fall by the hand of the great .^Eneas. He is the first to 
 
 chide his hesitating comrades, and raise the dead from the ground ; the 
 
 blood dabbled the locks that had been dressed with care. 
 
 833 — 908. Mezentius sees his dead son, and, though wounded severely, 
 
 mounts his horse Rhoebus, and attacks the Trojan chief. The horse 
 
 has syinpathy for his master. Both horse and rider are slain by 
 
 JEneas. 
 
 Meanwhile the father by the stream of the Tiber dried the wound 
 with running water, and refreshed his body, reclining against the stem 
 of a tree. At a little distance from the branch hangs his brazen helmet, 
 and his heavy arms lie idle on the grass. Around stand his chosen 
 warriors ; he himself weak, short of breath, rests his drooping neck, with 
 his long beard hanging down o'er his breast ; many a question he asks 
 about Lausus, many a messenger he sends back to recall his son, and 
 bear the warnings of his sorrowing sire. But Lausus lifeless was borne 
 on his shield by his weeping comrades ; great warrior was he, conquered 
 by a great wound. Far off a father's mind foreboding woe knew the 
 meaning of their lamentations. He disfigures his grey hair with much 
 dust, and stretches both his hands to the sky, and hangs o'er the corpse : 
 " My son," said he, " could such a fond love of life detain me, that I 
 should allow you, my child, in my place to sustain the attack of the 
 enemy's hand ? Am I your father saved by your wounds ? do I live 
 by your death ? Alas, not till now did wretched I know the misery of 
 exile ; now is the wound driven deep. Yes, and I too, my son, dis- 
 honoured your fair name by my crimes, banished as one hated from 
 land and ancestral throne. I should have paid the penalty I owed to 
 my country and the detestation of my subjects ; to all forms of death 
 I ought to have surrendered my guilty life. Now I live, and do not yet 
 leave life and light ; but leave them I will." As he speaks, he raises him- 
 self on his weak thigh ; and though the deep wound palsies his strength, 
 yet with spirit unabated he bids his steed be led forth. This to him 
 was glory and solace ; on this his horse he had come forth victorious 
 from every fight. He addresses the animal that seems to mourn, and 
 thus begins : " Rhcebus, long (if aught be long in this our mortal life) 
 you and I have lived. To-day you shall either bring back with me the 
 bloody spoils, and head of ^Eneas, and avenge with me the sorrows of 
 Lausus ; or if no force can open out a way, with me you shall die. For 
 you, my gallant steed, I believe, the commands of strangers and Trojan 
 lords will not deign to obey." He spake, and was taken up on his 
 back ; there he placed his familiar limbs, and armed both his hands 
 with sharp-pointed javelins ; his brazen helmet glittered on his head, 
 shaggy was its plume of horse's hair. So, swift he sped into the centre 
 
 VIR. l6 
 
242 VIRGIL. [X. 871— 
 
 of the foe; there surges in his heart great shame, and the madness of 
 wrath, and sorrow mingled with it. Then he called on yEneas thrice 
 with loud voice ; and ^Eneas knew the voice, and joyful prays : " So may 
 the great Father of the gods, so may Apollo in heaven grant ; may you 
 begin the fight." He spake no more, but met him face to face with 
 attacking spear. To whom Mezentius : " Cruel foe, why do you try to 
 frighten me, now you have robbed me of my son? That way alone 
 could you destroy me. I fear not death ; no god I hesitate to defy. 
 Cease. See I am come, as one about to die. But first I bring you 
 these gifts." He spake, and hurled his lance against the foe ; then in 
 the shield fixes another, and then another dart, wheeling round in a 
 great ring ; the golden boss sustains all the spears. Three times round 
 ./Eneas, who stood firm, did he ride in circles to the left, throwing lances 
 with his hand ; three times did the Trojan hero carry round with him 
 a great wood of iron on his brazen buckler. At length, when weary of 
 such long protracted delay, and of plucking from his shield so many 
 darts, hard pressed in the engagement of an unequal fight, after many 
 a thought he bursts forth, and hurls his spear between the hollow temples 
 of the charger. The steed raises himself erect, and lashes the air with 
 his heels, and encumbers his thrown rider, falling on him, and, tumbling 
 headlong o'er his prostrate master, lies on his shoulder. Trojans and 
 Latins alike make the welkin ring with fervent cries. ^Eneas flies for- 
 ward, snatching his sword from its scabbard, and standing over him says : 
 "Where is now the fiery Mezentius, and the fierce spirit of his soul?" 
 In answer the Tuscan, as soon as looking up to the air he drew in the 
 breezes of heaven, and recovered his senses, thus said : " Insulting foe, 
 wherefore do you thus upbraid and threaten me with death? There is 
 no guilt in slaying me ; this was not the condition on which I came 
 to battle : these were not the terms of contest which my Lausus cove- 
 nanted for me. I beg for one favour alone ; if there is any mercy to be 
 shown to a conquered foe, suffer my body to be covered in a grave. 
 I know that bitter is the hatred of my countrymen that surrounds me ; 
 I entreat you, protect my body from this wrath, and consign me to a 
 grave which I may share with my son." He speaks, and offers his throat 
 to the expected sword, and pours forth his soul in a deluge of blood that 
 floods his arms. 
 
XI. 45-] THE JENEID. 243 
 
 BOOK XI. 
 
 I 
 1 — 28. Apneas makes a trophy of the spoils of Mezentius. He gives 
 directions for the funeral of those slain in battle. 
 
 Meanwhile the Morn arose and left the ocean : ^Eneas, though his 
 sorrows urge him to give full time for the burial of his comrades, and his 
 soul is troubled by the death of his friend, yet, as conqueror, paid the 
 vows he owed the gods at the break of day. He lopped the branches 
 from the stem of a great oak, and planted it on a mound, and clothed 
 it with glittering arms, the spoils taken from the captain Mezentius, a 
 trophy to thee, thou mighty lord of war. Hereto he fastens the crests 
 that drip with blood, and the warrior's weapons broken short, and his 
 breastplate which the enemy's blows had pierced in twelve places; he 
 fastens the brazen shield to the left arm, and on the neck hangs the sword 
 with ivory hilt. Then, as the whole company of captains throngs around 
 and closes him in, he thus begins to exhort his triumphing comrades : 
 The main work is done, my friends ; away with all fear touching what 
 remains ; see here are the spoils, here taken from the haughty king are 
 my first offerings ; and what my hands have raised here, is all that is left 
 of Mezentius. Now we must march to the king, and Latin walls. In 
 your hearts be ready for arms, and let your hopes anticipate success in 
 war, that you be not ignorant, nor hindered by delay, as soon as the 
 gods show their will for us to pluck our standards from the ground, and 
 to lead our men forth from the camp ; and that no thoughts, sluggish 
 through fear, slacken us. Meanwhile let us consign to the earth the 
 unburied bodies of our comrades ; this is the only respect we can pay to 
 those who are deep down by Acheron. Go, says he, honour with the 
 last gifts those noble souls, who with their blood have purchased for us 
 this land for our country ; and first of all let Pallas' body be sent to the 
 mourning city of Evander ; he lacked not valour, when the dark day of 
 death carried him off, and sank him in an untimely end. 
 29 — 58. The lamentations of the Trojans and Apneas over the dead 
 
 body of Pallas. 
 
 Thus as he speaks he sheds tears, and walks back to the threshold, 
 where was laid out the lifeless body of Pallas, watched by Acetes now 
 advanced in years: in days of old he had been armourbearer to Arca- 
 dian Evander, but not so happy are the auspices with which he then 
 went as appointed guardian to his beloved foster-son. Around were 
 standing all, the band of servants, and the Trojan throng, and the 
 daughters of Ilium with their sad hair dishevelled according to usage. 
 But when ^Eneas entered by the lofty doors, then loud are the lamenta- 
 tions they raise to the sky, as they beat their breasts, and the palace 
 resounds with their sorrowful mourning. The prince himself as he be- 
 holds the head of Pallas propped up, and his countenance white like snow, 
 and the gaping wound made by Italian spear in his smooth breast, thus 
 speaks, as the tears gush forth: Lamented boy, ah! could fortune, coming 
 to me with smiles, yet envy me this, that you should not see my new realm, 
 nor ride victorious to your father's home? Such were not the promises 
 
 16—2 
 
244 VIRGIL, [XL 46— 
 
 that I gave your father touching you at my departure, as he embraced 
 me when I departed, and said he sent me to the hope of a mighty empire ; 
 and yet in fear reminded me how warlike were the men, how that we 
 had to fight with a hardy race. And now he on his part, much beguiled 
 by idle hopes, perchance is making vows, and loading the altars with 
 gifts ; we in sorrow attend with bootless rites a lifeless youth, who is no 
 longer in debt to any of the gods of heaven. Unhappy father, you will 
 see the bitter funeral of your son. Is this our return, is this our expected 
 triumph? Is this the way I keep my solemn promise? But yet, Evander, 
 you shall not look on your child smitten by shameful wounds, nor shall 
 you pray for a dreadful death after your son has survived his honour. 
 Alas me! how great a protection Italy loses, and you too, lulus. 
 
 59 — 99. The dead body of Pallas is sent with due honour and many 
 lamentations to his father Evander. 
 He ended his tearful lamentation, and bids the piteous corpse be 
 raised, and sends a thousand men chosen from the whole troop, to as- 
 sist at the last respect to the dead, and to be present at the father's tears ; 
 a scanty comfort in a mighty sorrow, yet due to the wretched father. 
 With industry others weave wicker-work and a pliant bier made of the 
 twigs of arbutus, and pliant boughs of oak, and overshadow the raised 
 couch with a canopy of leaves. Here they lay the youth on the top of the 
 rustic litter : in beauty, like a flower cropt by a maiden's hand, either a 
 tender violet, or a bending hyacinth, from which as yet neither its bright 
 colours nor fair form % is gone ; but no more does its mother-earth cherish 
 it or supply it with vigour. Then ^Eneas brought forth two vests stiff 
 with gold and purple, which Sidonian Dido taking pleasure in her work 
 with her own hands had long ago wrought for him, and had separated 
 the threads with tissue of gold. With one of these the sorrowing prince 
 clothes the youth as with his last ornament; with the other as with a 
 wrapper he veils the hair that is to burn in the fire ; many besides are 
 the prizes from the fight with the Laurentians which he heaps together, 
 ordering the spoil to be brought forth in long array. He gives beside the 
 steeds and arms whereof he had stripped the foe. He had pinioned too 
 the hands behind of those whom he meant to offer as victims to the ghost 
 of his friend, when he would sprinkle in the flame the blood of the slain ; 
 and he bids the chieftains themselves bear the trunks clothed with the 
 arms of the enemy, and that they be marked with the names of the foe. 
 Unhappy Acetes is led along, worn by many a year ; sometimes he wounds 
 his breast with his closed hand, then with his nails his face, then grovels 
 on the ground stretched at his full* length. They lead too in procession 
 his chariot stained with Rutulian blood. Behind comes ^Ethon, his war- 
 horse stripped of his trappings; as he paces on, he weeps, and wets his 
 face with big drops. Others carry his spear and helmet, his other arms 
 the victor Turnus possesses. Then follow a sad phalanx, Trojans, and 
 all the Tyrrhenians together, and Arcadians with reversed arms. When 
 the whole line of attendants had passed in long procession, ^neas stop- 
 ped, and with deep-drawn sigh added these words : " Us hence to fresh 
 tears the same horrid destiny of war summons. Hail to me for the last 
 
XI. I45-] THE MNEID. 245 
 
 time, mighty Pallas ; for ever farewell." He said no more, but walked to 
 
 the lofty walls, and turned his steps to the camp. 
 
 100 — 138. Drances and others come from the Latin city to ask leave to 
 
 bury their slain. JEneas gives them a gracious reply. A truce of 
 
 twelve days. . 
 And now came ambassadors from the Latin town, they were veiled 
 with boughs of olive, they entreated his grace: would he deign to give 
 them back the bodies that lay stretched o'er the plains by the sword, and 
 allow them to rest beneath barrows of earth ; there ought, said they, to be 
 no contest with men vanquished and bereaved of the air of heaven ; he 
 should, said they, spare those whom he had once called hosts and kins- 
 men. Whom good ^Eneas honours with his grace, for they sued a boon 
 he could not grudge to give, and farther adds these words: "What for- 
 tune undeserved has involved you Latins in so sad a war, that you 
 should avoid our friendship ? You ask of me peace for the lifeless, slain 
 by the chance of Mars : I would gladly grant it to'the living too. I had 
 not hither come, unless the fates had granted me a home and abode ; 
 nor do I wage war with the nation : your king abandoned my friendship, 
 and preferred to trust the arms of Turnus. It were fairer surely that 
 Turnus should face this death. If he is ready to finish the war with his 
 own hand, and to chase the Trojans hence, he should have engaged with 
 me with these weapons. Then let him live, to whom God or his own 
 right hand has given life." So spake ^Eneas. They stood as men amazed 
 in silence,- and turning to each other, gazed and looked each on his 
 neighbour. Then Drances, old in years, whom youthful Turnus had 
 made his deadly foe by hate and accusation, thus in turn replies to what 
 the Trojan first had said : " O great in fame, but greater still in arms, 
 hero of Troy, by what praises shall I extol you to the skies ? Shall I 
 admire you more for justice or for your exploits in w T ar? We indeed will 
 gratefully bring this reply back to our native town, and will unite you to 
 king Latinus, if fortune shall show us any way thereto. Let Turnus seek 
 an alliance for himself. Nay, and it will be a pleasure to us to raise the 
 massive walls which the fates allow, and to carry on our shoulders the 
 stones for Trojan towers." He so spake, and all with one consent ap- 
 plauded in agreement. They covenanted for twelve days, and under the 
 protection of the truce Trojans and Latins mixed together wandered 
 through the forests on the hills without risk. The tall ash resounds to 
 the iron hatchet ; they fell pines that towered to the sky ; and continually 
 with wedges they cleave the heart of oak and the fragrant cedar, and 
 carry mountain-ashes on their creaking wagons. 
 
 139 — 181. The description of the grief of Eva?ider. His sad speech o'er 
 
 his dead son. 
 And now winged Fame, the messenger that goes before great grief, fills 
 the ears of Evander, and the palace and city of Evander — that Fame, 
 which but lately bore the news of Pallas as victor in Latium. The Arca- 
 dians were seen to rush to the gates, and according to the old usage they 
 snatched up torches for the funeral ; the road glitters with the long row of 
 flaming brands, and far and wide shows the fields distinct and clear. To 
 meet them come the crowd of Phrygians, and unite their lines, which 
 
246 VIRGIL. [XL 146— 
 
 lament aloud. Now as soon as the matrons saw them enter the town, they 
 fire the sorrowing city with their cries. But Evander no force can hold, 
 he comes into the midst. When the bier was lowered, he threw himself 
 on Pallas, there he clings weeping and groaning, and through excess of 
 sorrow it was only hardly at last that a passage was freed for his voice : 
 " Such were not the promises you gave, Pallas, to your parent, how that 
 you would be more cautious in tempting cruel Mars. I knew full well 
 the power of youthful glory in arms, and of honour only too sweet in the 
 first field. O wretched essays of my boy, and cruel rudiments of a war 
 too near at hand, and oh my vows and prayers heard by none of the gods, 
 and you my stainless spouse, happy in your death, spared this sorrow. 
 I on the other hand by living outlived my destiny, only to survive and be 
 left a father when my son is gone. O that I had followed the arms of my 
 allies the Trojans, and been o'erwhelmed by Rutulian darts! O that I 
 myself had given up the ghost, and that this procession were bringing 
 me, not Pallas, home! Yet would I not blame ye, Trojans, nor our 
 treaties, or right hands united in hospitality; this lot is due to my old 
 age. But if an untimely death did await my son, it will be a com- 
 fort to think he first slew thousands of Volscians, and fell leading the 
 Trojans into Latium. Nay I myself would not wish to honour you with 
 another funeral than that which pious ^Eneas, and the great Trojans, 
 and the Etrurian captains and all the Etrurian host deign to give. Great 
 are the trophies they bear taken from those whom we see your hand has 
 slain. You too, Turnus, would now stand a mighty trunk clad in arms, 
 had my son's age and strength of years been fairly matched with your's. 
 But why does an unhappy father detain the Trojans from arms? Go 
 then, and forget not my message to your lord. If I linger still in hated 
 life, now that Pallas is gone, your right hand is to blame ; you see it owes 
 Turnus to father and son alike. This is the only place open for your 
 services and for fortune's gifts. The joys of life I reck not ; joy were a 
 crime in me ; but this I long for, to take my son the news down to the 
 world below." 
 
 182 — 202. The Trojans bury their dead. 
 Meanwhile Aurora raised her kindly light for wretched men, bringing 
 back their work and toil. Already father ^Eneas, already Tarcho had 
 raised the pyres on the winding shore. Hither each man bore his kins- 
 men's bodies after the usage of their sires: they place beneath the funeral 
 fires, and lofty heaven is hidden in darkness by the murky smoke. Thrice 
 round the lighted piles they rode, clad in glittering arms ; thrice on their 
 horses they made the circuit of the sad funeral fires, and uttered loud 
 laments. The earth is bedewed with tears, their arms are bedewed ; to 
 the sky rises together the cry of men, and clang of trumpets. Next, others 
 throw on the fire the spoils taken from slain Latins, helmets and orna- 
 mented swords, and bits, and wheels that glow with speed ; others cast 
 on the flames well-known emblems, their friends' own shields and unlucky 
 weapons. Around, many huge oxen are sacrificed to Death ; and they 
 cut the throats of bristly boars and cattle taken from all the fields around, 
 and throw them into the fire. Then all along the shore they gaze at their 
 comrades blazing in death, and keep the half burnt relics, nor can they 
 
XI. 243.] THE jENEID. 247 
 
 tear themselves away, till dewy night turns round the vault of heaven 
 now studded with the brilliant stars. 
 
 203 — 224. The Latins do the same. Turnus is condenmed by some. By 
 others he is still supported. 
 And no less too did the unhappy Latins raise in a different part of the 
 plain innumerable pyres, many of the bodies of their countrymen they 
 bury in the ground, many on the other hand they carry away and bear 
 them to the neighbouring fields, and send them back to the city. The 
 remainder, a vast heap of slaughtered men crowded together, they burn 
 unhonoured and without a name ; then on every side the dreary plains 
 seem to vie with one another in gleaming with many a fire of death. The 
 third morning had dispelled the damp shades from the heaven: sorrowing 
 they raked together in heaps the ashes and confused mass of bones on 
 the pyres, and covered them with a warm mound of earth. But further, 
 within the houses, even in the city of wealthy Latinus, was heard especially 
 the tumult of sorrow, and there was the greatest portion of the prolonged 
 grief. Here it was that mothers and unhappy daughters, here that the 
 loving hearts of sorrowing sisters, and orphan children execrate the 
 accursed war and the nuptials of Turnus ; they bid him in person with his 
 own arms, his own sword, decide the contest, as he claimed for himself 
 the realm of Italy and the first place of honour. Drances bitterly 
 aggravates this, and solemnly declares that none but Turnus is invited, 
 none but Turnus is challenged to decide the contest. At the same time 
 many are the opinions, various the words in favour of Turnus, the great 
 name of the queen shelters him ; his own famous renown resting on well- 
 earned trophies sustains the hero's claims. 
 
 225 — 242. The ambassadors that had been sent to Diomede return. 
 Amidst these passions of party, in the midst of the raging disturbance, 
 lo, to increase their fears, sadly returning from the great city of Diomede, 
 the ambassadors bring back their answers; they tell that fruitless was 
 all their labour spent and great toil ; bootless had been their gifts, their 
 gold, their earnest prayers ; either the Latins must find other help in 
 arms, or must sue for peace from the Trojan prince. In the greatness of 
 the sorrow King Latinus himself fails to give advice. That by the decree 
 of the Fates, and by the manifest will of heaven, yEneas had been brought 
 to Italy, they were warned by the wrath of the gods, and by the newly- 
 raised tombs before their eyes. So then the king summons by imperial 
 mandates within his lofty palace a great council, even the first men of his 
 citizens. They meet together, and flock to the regal halls along the crowded 
 streets. There sits in the centre he who was oldest in years and first in 
 kingly power, but with no countenance of joy, Latinus. And here he bids 
 the ambassadors, returned from the /Etolian city, tell the answers that they 
 bring, and demands to hear all the replies, each in due order. Then were 
 all tongues hushed, and Venulus in obedience to his word thus begins to 
 speak. 
 
 243 — 295. They report the speech of Diomede i?i which he told of his 
 own sufferings, of those of other Greeks, of the valour and piety of 
 JEneas, and recommended them to make peace with the Trojans. 
 ■ "We have seen with our eyes, O citizens, Diomede and the Argive 
 
248 VIRGIL. [XI. 244- 
 
 camp, and having performed our journey, we passed safely through every 
 risk, and we touched that hand by which fell the realm of Troy. He had 
 been conqueror, and was founding in the fields of Iapygian Garganus the 
 city Argyripa, named after his native people. When we are admitted, 
 and liberty is granted to speak before him, we offer our gifts, we tell him 
 our name and country, who had made war on us, what reason had drawn 
 us to Arpi. Having heard us, he thus replies with calm words ; 'O happy 
 nations, realms of Saturn, ye ancient men of Ausonia, what fortune dis- 
 turbs your rest, and persuades you to provoke such a war as you know 
 not ? As many of us as with the sword attacked the lands of sacred Ilium 
 (I speak not of all the sufferings we endured while warring 'neath the lofty 
 walls, nor of the heroes whom Simois of evil name overwhelmed,) have 
 endured unutterable torments through all the world, and paid the full 
 penalty of our guilt, a band whom even Priam might pity. This knows 
 well the fatal storm Minerva sent, and the cliffs of Eubcea, and avenging 
 Caphareus. From that warfare we have been driven to shores far apart ; 
 Menelaus, Atreus' son went an exile even to the columns of Proteus ; 
 Ulysses saw the Cyclops of ^Etna. Need I mention the realm of Neopto- 
 lemus, and the ruined home of Idomeneus? or the Locri dwelling on the 
 shores of Libya? The monarch of Mycenae himself, the leader of the 
 great Achaeans, fell by the hand of his wicked wife : after Asia was con- 
 quered, there lay in ambush another combatant, the adulterer. Then to 
 think that the gods could grudge my being restored to my country's altars 
 and beholding my beloved wife and fair Caly don? Now too portents of 
 horrible appearance pursue me, and my comrades lost to me have fled 
 into the sky on wings, or wander along the streams transformed into birds, 
 (alas ! for the shocking punishments my companions suffer), and they fill 
 the rocks with their wailing cries. Such punishments as these were to be 
 looked for by me since the day that in my madness I attacked the per- 
 sons of the gods, and with a wound outraged the hand of Venus. Do not 
 indeed, do not urge me to such battles. I have no war with Trojans 
 since the overthrow of Troy; nor do I remember with pleasure my old 
 misfortunes. The gifts which you bring to me from your country, take to 
 ^Eneas instead. We have stood and met each other's fierce darts, and 
 have engaged in combat: believe one who knows from experience how great 
 he rises to charge with his shield, with what swiftness as of a whirlwind 
 he hurls his spear. Had the land of Ida borne two more such men, the 
 Trojan unattacked had come against the cities of Inachus, and the fates 
 had been changed, and Greece were in mourning. So far' as there was 
 delay at the walls of Troy that resisted so long, it was by Hector's and 
 yEneas' hand that the victory of the Greeks was checked, and was pro- 
 tracted to the tenth year. Both were renowned for courage, both for 
 excellence in arms ; the latter was superior in piety. Let your right hands 
 be united in treaty, as you may; but beware that arms do not clash with 
 arms.' Thus, excellent prince, you have both heard at once the reply of 
 the king, and what is his opinion touching the mighty war." Scarce had 
 the ambassadors so said, when various was the murmur that ran along 
 the confused assembly of the Ausonians ; as when rocks delay rapid 
 rivers, and a roaring rises from the imprisoned flood, the neighbouring 
 
I 
 
 XI. 347.] THE jENEID. 249 
 
 banks re-echo to the splashing waves. As soon as their feelings were 
 appeased, and the confused hum subsided, the king, having first invoked 
 the gods, begins from his lofty throne. 
 
 296 — 335. King Latinus consults the assembly. He suggests that they 
 should either offer the Trojaits so??ie land, or timber to build new 
 ships. 
 
 " I could have wished, Latins, and it had been better that you had de- 
 termined before this the affairs of the state ; and not at such a time to 
 collect a hurried assembly, when the enemy is sitting before the walls. 
 O citizens, we wage ill-omened war with the race of heaven, with men 
 unconquered, whom no battles exhaust, who e'en when conquered cannot 
 desist from the steel. As to any hope, if you had any in the alliance 
 of the arms of ^Etolia, lay it aside. Each man must hope in himself 
 alone ; how poor this hope is, you see. How great the ruin in which all 
 else lies smitten down and prostrate, is before your eyes, and in the 
 midst of you. Yet I blame no one. Our valour has been as great as it 
 could be ; we have contended with the whole strength of our realm. So 
 then I will lay before you the judgment of my distracted mind, and briefly 
 will inform you ; do you give me your attention. I have an ancient tract 
 of land lying along the Tuscan river, extending far towards the setting 
 sun, even beyond the borders of the Sicani ; the Aurunci and Rutulians 
 sow there their grain, and with the share plough the stiff hills, or graze 
 their roughest ridges. Let all this district and the pine-clad region of the 
 lofty mountain be ceded to the Trojans to win their friendship; and let us 
 set forth equal terms in our truce, and invite them to share our realm ; 
 let them settle down, if so great be their desire, and found their walls. 
 But if their mind be to obtain other territories, and go to another people, 
 and they can be content to depart from our soil, let us build them twice 
 ten ships of Italian heart of oak, or more if they can man them ; all the 
 timber lies ready by the water ; let them direct the number and size of 
 the ships ; let us give brass, and hands to work, and docks. Further it is 
 my opinion that a hundred Latin orators of the noblest rank should go to 
 bear our offers, and ratify the treaty, bearing before them in their hands 
 olive-branches of peace, carrying as gifts talents of ivory and gold, and 
 the curule seat and state robe, emblems of our regal power. Consult 
 for the public weal, and come to the aid of our afflicted fortunes." 
 336 — 375. The character of Drances. He speaks in favour of peace; he 
 upbraids Turnus as the author of all their misfortunes. 
 
 Then that same Drances, a bitter enemy of Turnus ; for the glory of 
 the prince vexed him with envy half-concealed, and with malign feelings 
 goaded him ; liberal with his wealth, and ready in tongue, but his hand 
 was slack in war ; in counsel he passed for no vain adviser, powerful in 
 cabals; his mother's nobility gave him high descent, but doubtful was the 
 descent he derived from his father; this man rises, and inflames and 
 aggravates the general wrath with these words : " The subject is obscure 
 to none, it needs no words of mine, on which you consult us, excellent 
 king. All with one consent allow they know what the fortune of our 
 people demands ; but they fear to speak openly. Let him give us liberty 
 of speech, and lower his blustering pride, on account of whose unlucky 
 
250 VIRGIL. [XL 348- 
 
 auspices, and ill-omened obstinacy — I will speak, though he threatens 
 me with arms and death — we see that so many glorious heroes have 
 fallen, and that the whole city is sunk in sorrow, while he attacks the 
 Trojan camp, and yet puts his trust in flight, and menaces heaven with 
 arms. There is one gift still, which beside those you bid be sent and 
 assigned to the Trojans, there is one, excellent king, which you should 
 add ;' let no one's violence prevent you from giving your daughter to a 
 noble son-in-law in no unworthy marriage, you who are her father, and 
 ratify this peace for us by an eternal compact. But if so great terror 
 possesses our minds and breasts, let us earnestly entreat him, and beg for 
 his grace, that he would deign to yield and give up his own rights to 
 the king and the country. Why do you so often expose your wretched 
 citizens to evident perils, O you, who are the source and cause to Latium 
 of our present troubles ? There is no safety in war ; peace we all beg of 
 you, Turnus, we beg of you the only pledge of peace that cannot be 
 violated. I first, I, whom you pretend am your enemy — and I can hardly 
 deny I am — see I come as suppliant, pity your countrymen, lay aside your 
 obstinacy, and as one beaten, give way. In our rout we have witnessed 
 enough of death, and have seen the desolation of widely-extended lands. 
 Or else, if your renown stirs you, if you can conceive such courage in 
 your breast, if your heart is set on a kingdom for your dowry, venture, 
 and boldly bear your breast to meet your foe. What forsooth, that to 
 Turnus there may be a royal bride, are we, worthless souls, an unburied 
 unlamented crowd, yes, are our bodies to be strewn o'er the plains ? 'Tis 
 time for you, if you have any vigour, if aught of your ancestral valour 
 remain, to look him in the face, who challenges you to battle." 
 376 — 444. Turnus in a fervid-speech denies that he has been defeated, 
 charges Drances with cowardice, appeals to their feelings of honour, 
 professes his readiness to 7neet JEneas in single combat. 
 At these words the fury of Turnus blazed forth ; he groans, and bursts 
 forth this answer from the depths of his heart : " You, Drances, I must 
 allow, have a plenteous abundance of words, then when war demands 
 hands ; and when our senators are summoned, you are the first to come. 
 But it is not the time to fill the council-house with words, which big and 
 blustering fly from your mouth safely, so long as the rampart of our walls 
 keeps our foe at bay, and the trenches do not yet swim with blood. Con- 
 tinue then to thunder with eloquence, after your usual fashion, and do you 
 charge rne with cowardice, yes, you, Drances, for your hand has strewn 
 such heaps of slaughtered Trojans, and far and wide you adorn the fields 
 with trophies. The power of vigorous valour you may easily try ; and 
 we have not truly far to go to look for foes ; they are standing all round 
 our walls. Let us rush to meet them ! Why do you lag behind ? Will 
 your powers of fighting always be in your vain braggart tongue, and 
 those feet of your's fleet to run away ? Was I beaten ? or who, you foul 
 slanderer, could truly say I was beaten, who saw the Tiber swell and rise 
 with Trojan blood, and all Evander's house fall with the hope of its 
 stock, and the Arcadians stripped of arms ? Not such did Bitias and 
 huge Pandarus prove me, and the thousands whom I victorious sent 
 to hell on the day when I was inclosed by the walls, and cooped in by 
 
XL 448.] THE MNEID. 251 
 
 the enemy. No safety in war? Fool, go chant such words to the Dardan 
 man, and the side you have passed to. Then go on, and do not cease to 
 confound all with great terror, and thus to extol the power of a twice 
 conquered people ; in the opposite scale to depress the arms of Latinus. 
 Now too the captains of the Myrmidons begin to tremble at the arms of 
 Phrygia, now too the son of Tydeus and Achilles of Larissa ; and the 
 river Aufidus runs backward to his source from the waves of Adria. This 
 is as true as the wicked contriver pretending alarm at a quarrel with me, 
 and embittering the calumny by a feigned fear. Such a soul as your's 
 you shall never lose by my hand; cease to trouble yourself: let it dwell 
 with you, and remain in that breast of yours. Now I return to you, 
 father, and your great deliberations. If you place no further hope in our 
 arms, if we are so entirely forlorn, and because our troops have been once 
 defeated we are utterly fallen, and Fortune has no steps backward, let 
 us pray for peace, and hold out our helpless hands. And yet, in the 
 name of heaven, if there be any of our wonted valour, he seems to me 
 above others happy in his efforts and noble in soul, who, lest he should 
 see such a disgrace, has fallen in death, and once for all bitten the ground 
 with his teeth. But if we have still means, and a body of youth as yet 
 untouched by the sword, and there still remain to help us the cities and 
 nations of Italy; if to the Trojans too no bloodless glory has come — for 
 they too have their deaths, and the storm of war has passed alike o'er all, 
 — why, dishonoured, do our hearts fail us at the very threshold of war ? 
 "Why before the trumpet sounds does a quivering seize our limbs? Many 
 a thing has time and the changing sway of shifting ages altered for the 
 better; many men has Fortune in her alternations made sport of, and 
 then again placed on a solid footing. No help to us will be the ^Etolian 
 and his Arpi ; but Messapus will be, and fortunate Tolumnius, and all 
 the captains sent by many a tribe ; nor small will be the glory that will 
 attend the picked men of Latium, and the Laurentian fields. There is 
 too Camilla of the noble nation of the Volsci, leading a troop of cavalry, 
 and bands arrayed in glossy brass. But should the Trojans summon me 
 alone to the combat, and that is settled, and I obstruct so much the com- 
 mon weal, Victory does not so hate or so avoid my hands, that I should 
 decline to venture aught for so glorious a hope. I will go and meet him 
 with spirit, though he should prove himself a second great Achilles, and 
 put on arms as good, wrought by Vulcan's hands. For you all and for 
 my father-in-law Latinus, I, Turnus, second to none of my forefathers in 
 valour, devote this soul. ^Eneas challenges me alone. I pray, he may 
 do so. And let not Drances rather than I, if here work the anger of the 
 gods, expiate it by death, or if it be a field of glory, bear off the palm." 
 445 — 531. Meanwhile JEneas advances to the city. Then a tumult 
 arises. Preparations are made for fighting. A supplication of 
 matrons. Turnus full of spirit gives various orders. Camilla 
 offers with the cavalry to meet the enemy's horse. Turnus hastens to 
 occupy the passes of the hills. 
 They thus in words contending discussed the crisis of their fortunes ; 
 ^Eneas forwards moved his camp and line. So the news spreads through 
 the royal halls with a mighty tumult, and fills the city with great terror, 
 
252 VIRGIL, [XL 449— 
 
 that the Trojans in full battle array and the Tuscan host were descending 
 from the river Tiber over the whole plain. Straightway the minds of 
 the people were confused, and their hearts disturbed, and their anger 
 stirred with no gentle goads. In haste they call for arms for their hands ; 
 the youth shout for arms. The fathers sadly weep and mutter doubts. 
 Hereupon on every side a mighty clamour with varied discordant cries 
 rises to the skies. Just as when in a deep forest perchance there settle 
 flocks of birds, or by the fishy river of Padusa the hoarse-throated swans 
 scream along the noisy pools. " Nay," said Turnus, for he seized the 
 occasion, "do ye, O citizens, summon a council, and sit and talk in 
 praise of peace ; let them in arms attack our realm." He spake no more, 
 but hurried forth, and swiftly bore himself from the lofty hall. "Do 
 you," said he, " Volusus, order the maniples of the Volsci under arms, 
 and lead the Rutulians. Do you, Messapus, and Coras with your brother, 
 bid the armed cavalry scour the whole plain. Let some strengthen 
 the approaches to the city, and man the towers, let the remainder with 
 me bear arms, whither I shall bid them." Immediately there is a rush 
 to the walls from every quarter of the town. Latinus himself, his peo- 
 ple's father, abandons the council and his weighty purposes, and confused 
 by the sinister aspect of the times prorogues the meeting, often blaming 
 himself for not having made advances to receive Dardan ^Eneas, and 
 admit him as son-in-law in his city. Others dig trenches in front of 
 the gates, or carry up stones and stakes. The hoarse-voiced trumpet 
 brays the signal for war and blood. Then matrons and boys girded the 
 walls with a varied ring; the last effort summons all. Further, to the 
 temple-height of the citadel of Pallas the queen rides up the street 
 attended by a great retinue of matrons ; she bears gifts ; near her 
 attends the maiden Lavinia, the fair cause of all the evil, with beauteous 
 downcast eyes. The matrons follow in procession, and fume the temple 
 w T ith incense, and pour forth their sorrowful prayers, standing at the 
 threshold of the lofty building : " Lady of arms, queen of war, Tritonian 
 maid, shiver the lance of the Phrygian pirate, and lay his body prone 
 on the earth, and prostrate him before the lofty gates." Turnus himself 
 with eager ardour arms himself for the battle. And anon he has 
 donned his glittering coat of mail bristling with scales of brass, already 
 are his legs enclosed with golden greaves, his temples are yet bare, 
 his sword is girt to his side : he glitters in his golden harness, as he 
 rushes down from the high citadel ; he exults in his spirits, his hopes 
 already reach his foe. As when a steed has broken his fastenings and 
 escaped from his stall, at last he is free, he has won the open plain, so 
 he runs either to the pastures and the herd of the mares, or, wont to 
 bathe in the familiar running stream, he bounds forth, he neighs with 
 head aloft, he prances in wanton liberty, whilst his mane plays o'er 
 his neck and shoulders. Then comes forward to meet the chief, Camilla, 
 attended by the Volscian line ; close to the gate the queen sprang from 
 her horse, the whole troop imitate her and in a moment vault to the 
 ground from their steeds: she speaks thus: "Turnus, if the brave can 
 justly on themselves rely, I dare and undertake to meet the cavalry of 
 yEneas' men, and alone to go and engage the Tuscan squadron. Allow 
 
XL 552.] THE sENEID. 253 
 
 me with my hand to essay the foremost perils of the war ; do you on 
 foot halt before the walls, and guard the battlements." Turnus replied 
 to this, with his eyes fixed on the wondrous maid : " O glory of Italy, 
 O maiden, what thanks shall I try to express, or how repay you ? But 
 now, since your soul is far above such returns, with me share the toil. 
 ^Eneas, as report, and the scouts that we have sent bring back certain 
 news, gives us no rest, but has sent forward the light-armed cavalry 
 to shake the fields ; he himself, passing the height of the hill across 
 the desert country o'er the ridge, is drawing near to the city : I prepare 
 the stratagems of war in the hollow narrow path through the wood, 
 that I may blockade the double pass with my armed troops. Do you 
 await the attack of the Tuscan cavalry and engage with them in pitched 
 battle ; with you shall be spirited Messapus, and the Latin troops, 
 and the squadron of Tiburtus ; do you take on yourself the cares of 
 a general." So he speaks, and with like words encourages Messapus 
 and the allied captains to the fight, and goes straight against the foe. 
 There is a valley with a winding gorge, formed for fraud, and the strata- 
 gems of war ; dark banks close it in on either side with steep descending 
 woods ; hither leads a narrow path, and a strait pass, and a scanty 
 approach bears the traveller on. Above this, on the cliffs and on the 
 highest peak of the hill, there lies table-land little known, and a safe 
 place of retreat, whether from the right or left you mean to rush to the 
 fight, or to take your stand on the ridge, and roll down huge masses 
 of rock. Hither the youthful warrior hastened along the familiar road, 
 and seized the vantage-ground, and took up in the woods a post to thwart 
 the foe. 
 
 532 — 596. The story of the father of Camilla, Metabus, of the maiderfs 
 childhood, her education, her life in the woods, the dedication of 
 herself to Diana, Diana predicts her death, a?id bids Opis avenge 
 her and bring her body from the battle-field. 
 
 Meanwhile Latona's daughter addressed swift Opis in the celestial 
 abodes ; Opis was one of the virgins of her troop and heavenly band ; 
 thus sadly did Diana speak : "Now to the cruel war Camilla goes, O 
 virgin, in vain is she girt with my arms, though dear to me beyond 
 all other daughters of the earth ; for this is no new fancy of Diana, 
 nor is my heart touched with a sudden affection. Metabus was driven 
 from his kingdom by his people's hatred and his own haughty violence, 
 and as he departed from the ancient city of Privernum, he took with 
 him, as he was flying through the very midst of the battle of war, his 
 infant child, as the companion of his exile, and called her by her 
 mother's name Casmilla, changing it a little into Camilla. He bore 
 her in his bosom before him, and made for the distant ridges of the 
 lonely woods. On every side cruel weapons pressed him hard, and 
 around were hovering the Volsci with soldiers spread far and wide. 
 So, to cut short his flight, Amasenus swollen foamed to the very top 
 of its banks ; so great a storm of rain had burst from the clouds. -He, 
 preparing to swim, is delayed by his love for his infant child, and fears 
 for the dear charge. As in his mind he turns over all thoughts, sud- 
 denly, though scarcely, he settles on this resolve : perchance in his hand 
 
254 VIRGIL. [XL 553- 
 
 the warrior bore a huge weapon, of solid knotty well-seasoned heart 
 of oak ; to this he fastens his child bound with the bark of sylvan cork, 
 and attaches her, a light burden, to the middle of the spear, which 
 poising with his stalwart hand, he thus speaks looking up to the sky : 
 * Kindly goddess, thou that dwellest in the woods, virgin daughter of 
 Latona, I myself her father vow this child here as a handmaiden to 
 thee ; bearing through the air thy dart her earliest weapon, thy sup- 
 pliant she flees from the foe.' Receive, I adjure thee, O goddess, thy 
 servant, who is now trusted to the uncertain breezes." He spake, and 
 drew his arm to his shoulder and hurls the lance ; the waters resounded ; 
 over the swift river ill-fated Camilla flies attached to the whizzing 
 spear. But Metabus — for the great troop now pressed him hard — trusts 
 himself to the stream, and successful plucks from the grassy turf the 
 spear with the child as a gift dedicated to Trivia. No towns received 
 him beneath their roofs or within their walls ; nor would he in his 
 wild life have complied with such an offer ; he spent a pastoral life 
 upon the lonely hills. Here did he rear his child in the thickets and 
 amidst the tangled lairs of the beasts, by the breast and with the milk 
 not of a woman but of a mare of the herd, pressing the udder to feed 
 her tender lips. And as soon as the child began to plant her steps on 
 the soles of her infant feet, he armed her hands with a pointed lance, 
 and hung bow and arrows from the shoulder of his little darling. 
 Instead of gold on her hair, instead of the covering of the long robe, 
 the skin of a tiger hangs from her head down her back. Even at 
 that early age she hurled childish darts with her tender hand, and 
 whirled round her head a sling with neatly fitted thong, and brought 
 to the ground the Strymonian crane, or the white swan. Many were 
 the matrons in the towns of the Tyrrhenians who in vain wished to have 
 her for a daughter-in-law; Diana contented her; and, a maiden, she 
 cherishes an unchanging love for her darts, and her virgin estate. And 
 oh, that she had not been possessed with the desire of such a warfare, 
 nor ventured to attack the Trojans ; she would now be my dear comrade, 
 and one of my train. But come, since she is pressed hard by an un- 
 timely death, glide, Nymph, down from the sky, and visit the land of 
 Latium, where the fatal fight is opened with inauspicious omens. Take 
 these weapons, and draw from the quiver the avenging arrow ; who- 
 ever violates her holy form with a wound, be he Trojan, be he Italian, 
 no matter which, by this arrow let him atone with his blood. Afterwards 
 I in a hollow cloud will bear the body of the lamented maiden, and 
 her arms not despoiled, to her tomb, and restore her to her country, 
 there to rest." She spake ; and Opis lightly gliding through the air of 
 heaven sounded in her flight, with her form surrounded by a dark 
 storm-cloud. 
 
 597 — 647. The cavalry engage7nent. It remains doubtful at first. Many 
 
 fall on either side. 
 
 Meanwhile the Trojan troop draws near the walls, and the Etrurian 
 
 captains, and all the host of the cavalry, arranged according to their 
 
 numbers into squadrons. Neighing over the whole plain prances the 
 
 steed with trampling feet, and strives against the tightened reins, turn- 
 
XL 650.] THE jENEID. 255 
 
 ing this way and that ; then far and wide the field bristles with spears, 
 as though it were of iron, and the plains glitter with lifted arms. Then 
 too Messapus to meet them, and the active Latins, and Coras with his 
 brother, and the wing commanded by the maid Camilla, appear in the 
 plain to face the foe, and point forward their spears, drawing their right 
 hands far back, and brandish their darts ; and the riders draw near, 
 and the neighing steeds glow with ardour. And now either side advance 
 to within a spear's cast, then suddenly halt ; then raise a shout, and 
 in a moment rush forward, and urge their maddened steeds ; at the 
 same time on every side they pour forth darts as thick as snow, the sky 
 is covered with shade. Forthwith Tyrrhenus and spirited Aconteus with 
 effort charge each other with lances, and first of all fall with mighty 
 crash, dashing together and shattering their steeds, breast against breast ; 
 Aconteus was cast from his saddle, and like a thunderbolt, or heavy missile 
 from an engine sent, is hurled to a distance, and scatters his life into the 
 air. Straightway the lines are confused, and the Latins put to flight throw 
 their shields behind their backs, and turn their horses to the walls. The 
 Trojans drive them before them ; Asilas foremost leads the squadrons 
 on. And now were they close to the gates, and again the Latins raise 
 a shout, and turn their pliant necks; then the others fly, and back are 
 borne with reins quite slack. As when the sea rushes forward w T ith 
 alternating swell, at one moment it rolls to the land, and casts its 
 wave o'er the rocks, and foams, and pours over the farthest sand with 
 its covering surge ; then again rapid retires backward, and in its flow 
 sucks the stones, and flies, leaving the shore with its retiring waters. 
 Twice did the Tuscans drive the Rutulians turned towards the walls, 
 twice, forced to yield, they look often behind them, protecting their backs 
 with their shields. But when they met in their third charge, they 
 mingled together all their ranks, and man singled man : and then were 
 heard the groans of the dying, and in pools of blood are arms and 
 bodies together, and mixed with the slaughtered men roll the horses 
 between life and death ; a fierce fight arises. Orsilochus hurled his 
 lance at the horse of Remulus, for he dreaded to approach the rider him- 
 self, and left the iron point beneath its ear. The wound makes the 
 prancing steed rage and rear, and impatient of the blow throw on 
 high his feet, and lift its breast upright. His master rolls on the ground 
 flung from his horse. Catillus lays Iolas low, and Hermitius, a man 
 of mighty soul, of mighty frame and arms ; his head was bare, his 
 auburn locks were seen, bare were his shoulders ; wounds have no terror 
 for him ; huge he is, exposed to weapons. The spear quivers as it passes 
 through his shoulder, and driven through him doubles the warrior with 
 agony. On every side black blood pours forth ; as they strive with the 
 sword they deal death, and aim at glorious ends the meed of wounds. 
 648 — 724. The glorious exploits of the maiden warrior. She slays many. 
 
 Her skill in riding. Her swiftness on foot, when she outstrips the 
 
 horse of the lying Ligurian. 
 
 But in the midst of the slaughter exults the Amazon, with one side 
 bared to the fight, Camilla girt with a quiver ; and at one time she throws 
 in quick succession the tough spears with her hand, then unwearied she 
 
256 VIRGIL. [XL 651- 
 
 seizes in her right hand a strong axe. Golden is the bow that rattles on 
 her shoulder, she wears the arms of Diana. She too, if ever driven back 
 she retires, shoots arrows in her flight, turning her bow to the foe. But 
 around are her chosen comrades, both the maiden Larina, and Tulla, 
 and Tarpeia, shaking her brazen hatchet, daughters of Italy, whom di- 
 vine Camilla chose for herself, to be her glory, good handmaids both in 
 peace and in war. As when in squadrons the Amazons of Thrace tram- 
 ple Thermodon's frozen stream, and war in painted arms, either around 
 Hippolyte, or when martial Penthesilea returns in her chariot; amidst 
 the cries of the mighty throng the female bands exult with their crescent 
 shields. Whom first, whom last, fierce maiden, do you lay low with your 
 dart? or how many bodies of dying men do you stretch on the ground? 
 Eunaeus first, his father was Clytius ; whose open breast, as he faces her, 
 she pierces with the long spear of fir- wood. He falls, vomiting streams 
 of blood, and bites the gory ground, and in the act of death writhes 
 with his wounds. Then she slays Liris and Pagasus ; one of whom tum- 
 bles from his stabbed horse, and tries to collect his reins, the other comes 
 to the help, and reaches forward his unarmed hand to support his falling 
 friend ; headlong they both fall alike. To these she adds Amaster, son of 
 Hippotas ; and pursues, pressing upon them with her lance hurled from 
 afar, both Tereus and Harpalycus and Demophoon and Chromis: and 
 as many darts as the virgin warrior threw with her hand, so many were 
 the Trojan men that fell. At a distance the huntsman Ornytus clad in 
 strange armour rides on an Apulian steed ; the warrior's broad shoulders 
 were covered by a hide taken from an ox ; his helmet was the yawning 
 mouth and jaws of a wolf with its white teeth ; a rustic pike arms his 
 hand ; he himself turns everywhere in the midst of the troop, o'ertopping 
 all by his whole head. Camilla transfixes him surprised ; it was easy, 
 when she had routed the whole troop ; and then speaks thus with bitter 
 soul : " You must have thought, Etruscan, you were hunting quarry in 
 the woods ; the day is come to refute your boasts by the arms of a woman. 
 And yet you shall bear no light glory to the ghosts of your fathers, telling 
 how you fell by Camilla's dart. Next straightway she attacked Orsilo- 
 chus and Butes, two giants of the Trojans ; Butes was turned away from 
 her, she pierced him with her spear's point between his coat of mail and 
 helmet, where, as he sat in his saddle, his neck was seen, and the shield 
 was hanging from his left arm; then pretending to fly, and chased 
 through an ample circle, she eludes Orsilochus, and gets within the ring, 
 and pursues the pursuer ; then she rises high in her saddle, and with re- 
 doubled blow drives her strong battle-axe through the armour and bones 
 of the man ; he entreated and prayed for mercy oft ; the wound drenches 
 his face with the hot bloody brain. The warrior son of Aunus who 
 dwelled in the Apennines comes across her path, and at the sudden sight 
 stood still as one alarmed ; he was not least among the Ligurians, so long 
 as fate allowed him to deceive ; and he, when he plainly sees that by no 
 fleetness he can escape the fight, or turn aside the queen who pressed 
 him hard, began to contrive his fraud with policy and craft, and thus he 
 says: " What so wonderful, a woman trusting in her gallant steed? Give 
 up your flying horse, and venture to fight me hand to hand on fair 
 
XL 757.] THE ALNEID. 257 
 
 ground, and gird yourself for a battle on foot : soon will you know, to 
 whom shifting fortune will bring a mischief." He spake, and she, mad- 
 dened and stung with the indignation of courage, hands her horse to her 
 attendant, and stands her ground in arms fairly matched, on foot with 
 drawn sword, undaunted with her unemblazoned shield. The young 
 man thought he had prevailed by craft, and off he flies, he lags not, he 
 is borne away in flight with his reins turned aside, and urges his swift 
 steed with his iron spur. " Foolish Ligurian, in vain elated by your 
 haughty soul, to no purpose have you tried the slippery tricks of your 
 country, nor shall your fraud carry you off safe to cheating Aunus." So 
 speaks the maid, and swift as fire upon her rapid feet she passes the 
 horse in speed, then meets him face to face, then seizes the reins, and 
 takes a punishment from the blood of her enemy : as easily as a hawk, 
 a sacred bird, flying from a high crag, overtakes on her wings a dove 
 high up in a cloud, and seizes it, and holds it, and tears it open with its 
 talons ; then blood and feathers rent from the dove fall from the sky. 
 725 — 835. Tarcho upbraids his men for yielding to a woman. He restores 
 the fight. Then as Camilla pursues Chloreus, Arruns, having first 
 prayed to Apollo, wounds her. Arruns escapes by flight, Camilla dies, 
 with her last breath sending a message to Turnus. 
 But with no careless eyes the Father of gods and men watches the fight, 
 as he sits aloft on the summit of Olympus. The Father stirs up Tarcho 
 the Etruscan to the fierce battle, and with no gentle spur inspires his 
 wrath. So midst the slaughtered men and yielding lines Tarcho is borne 
 on his steed, and encourages the squadrons with varied words, calling on 
 each by name, and cheers the beaten back to fight : " What fear, O Etrus- 
 cans, ye who can ne'er be stung by shame, ever sluggish, what utter 
 cowardice possesses your souls? A woman scatters and drives you 
 before her, and turns these lines to flight. To what purpose wear ye iron, 
 or carry idle weapons in your hands ? But no laggards are ye for love 
 and wars by night, or when the bent flute calls to the Bacchic dance, ye 
 are not slow to be ready for the feast, and for the cups on the loaded 
 table — such is your taste, such your passion — when the augur announces 
 the sacrifice propitious, and the well-fed victim invites you to the deep 
 groves." He spake, and spurs his steed into the throng, himself too pre- 
 pared to die, and furiously charges full on Venulus ; he pulls him from his 
 steed, and with his right hand grasps him round, and, carrying him before 
 him, bears him away at full speed with mighty strength. A shout is raised 
 heavenward, and all the Latins at once turn their eyes one way. O'er the 
 plain flies Tarcho, swift as fire, bearing with him the armed chieftain ; 
 then from the end of his own spear he breaks off the iron point, and feels 
 for an open place where to direct a deadly wound ; he on the other hand 
 resists and keeps from his throat the hand, and baffles strength by 
 strength. As when a tawny eagle flying on high bears off a serpent 
 it has seized, and fastens its feet to the prey, and clings to it with his 
 talons : but the wounded snake writhes its coiling folds, and bristles with 
 scales erect, and hisses with its tongue, raising itself on high ; the bird no 
 less plies it as it struggles with taloned beak, and at the same time lashes 
 the air with its wings : even so Tarcho in triumph bears his prey from the 
 
 YIR. 17 
 
258 VIRGIL. [XI. 758- 
 
 Tiburtian line. Following the example and success of their chief, the 
 Etrurians charge. Then Arruns doomed to death first circles swift Camilla 
 with dart in hand, and with deep craft, and tries where fortune would 
 come easiest. Wheresoever the impetuous maiden bears herself, through 
 the midst of the line, there Arruns * stealthily follows, and silently tracks 
 her course ; where she returns victorious, bringing back booty from the foe, 
 there the young man cunningly turns his rapid reins. He essays first this 
 approach, then that, and traverses every circuit, and persevering shakes 
 his fatal spear. Perchance Chloreus, sacred to Cybele, once her priest, 
 was glittering conspicuous from afar in Phrygian arms, urging his foam- 
 ing horse, which a skin fastened with gold and feathery scales of brass 
 defended. The rider, bright in foreign purple and Tyrian dye, shot his 
 Cretan arrows from a Lycian bow ; golden was the bow that rattled from 
 his shoulder, and golden was the helmet of the seer ; his saffron cloak 
 and rustling linen folds he had bound in a knot of yellow gold; em- 
 broidered with the needle was his tunic, and his barbaric greaves. The 
 huntress maiden, either that she might hang the Trojan arms on the gate 
 of the temple, or show herself decked in golden spoil, was blindly follow- 
 ing him alone in all the contest of the battle, and heedlessly through the 
 whole line she was inflamed with a woman's love of booty and plunder. 
 Then at length Arruns seized his time, and from his ambush brandishes 
 his dart, and thus addresses the heavenly Powers in prayer: "Highest of 
 the gods to me, Apollo, guardian of holy Soracte, whom first we honour, for 
 whom is fed the blaze of pines piled up, whose votaries we, passing through 
 the fire in the strength of our piety, press the soles of our feet on many a 
 burning coal, grant, almighty father, that by my arms may be abolished 
 our dishonour. I beg not for any spoils nor trophy of the vanquished 
 maid ; other exploits will give me glory. If this dread pest does but fall 
 by the wound I inflict, I will return inglorious to my native town." 
 Phoebus heard, and in his purpose gave success to half the vow, the other 
 half he whistled down the wind ; he granted to his prayer to lay Camilla 
 low, smitten by a sudden death; he suffered not his mountain-home to 
 see the chief return ; and the storms bore his words to the south winds. 
 So, when the spear hurled from his hand whizzed through the air, all the 
 Volscians at once turned their keen minds and eyes towards the queen. 
 She heeded neither the rustling air nor whizzing lance, nor the weapon 
 coming from the sky, until the spear, onwards borne, was fixed beneath 
 her bare breast, and driven in, drank deeply of the maiden's blood. Her 
 confused attendants rush together, and catch their falling queen. Before 
 the rest flies off terrified Arruns with fear and mingled joy ; nor does he 
 dare further to trust his spear, nor meet the maiden's weapons. As when 
 oft a wolf having slain a shepherd or a great steer, conscious of his daring 
 deed, straightway by a pathless journey betakes himself to the lofty moun- 
 tains, before the hostile darts pursue, and lowering his tail he places it 
 quivering beneath his belly, and makes for the woods; thus Arruns in 
 terror bore himself out of sight, and content to escape, mingled in the 
 midst of the armed troop. She with dying hand draws the weapon 
 forth ; but within her bones the iron point remains fixed to her side with 
 a deep wound. Fainting she sinks ; her eyes sink in the coldness of death ; 
 
XL 870.] THE JENEID. 259 
 
 her colour, once so bright, left her face. Then, as she breathes her last, she 
 thus addresses Acca, one of her companions of equal age ; Camilla trusted 
 her alone out of all the rest to share with her her troubles, and thus she 
 speaks : " Acca, my sister, so long has power been given me ; now the cruel 
 wound despatches me, and all around grows black with mist. Escape, 
 and bear these my last words to Turnus ; I bid him take my place in the 
 fight, and keep the Trojans from the city. And now farewell." As she 
 spake these words, she slowly forsook her reins, sinking to the ground 
 unwillingly. Then, all cold, she freed herself little by little from her whole 
 body, and bent her drooping neck and head oppressed by death, abandon- 
 ing her arms : her soul with a groan flies disdainful beneath the shades. 
 Then indeed mighty is the shout that rising strikes the golden stars ; 
 when Camilla falls the battle waxes fiercer still ; thickly they charge in 
 arms all the host of the Trojans together, and the Etrurian captains, and 
 the Arcadian squadrons of Evander. 
 
 836 — 867. Opts, according to the injunctions of Diana, avenges the death 
 of Camilla, and shoots Arrmis with an arrow. 
 
 But Diana's watch, Opis, from the beginning was- sitting on high upon 
 the summit of the hills, and viewed the battle without fear. And when 
 from afar in the midst of the shouts- of the youths raging in the conflict, 
 she saw Camilla visited by a sad death, she groaned, and uttered these 
 words deep from her breast: "Alas, O maiden, too cruel is the punish- 
 ment you have paid for essaying to attack the Trojans in war. Nor has 
 it availed you that you honoured Diana in the woods, or that you wore on 
 your shoulder our quiver. Yet your queen will not leave you dishonoured 
 in the very hour of doom, nor shall this death be without fame through- 
 out the nations, nor shall you have to bear the name of one who died 
 unavenged. For whoever has violated your form with a wound, shall 
 atone his guilt by a deserved death." There was a great tomb made of 
 a mound of earth, of King Dercennus of old, the Laurentian, beneath a 
 high mountain ; it was shaded by an umbrageous oak ; here first the 
 beauteous goddess from her swift flight stays her course, and views 
 Arruns from the summit of the barrow. As she saw him exulting in soul, 
 and swelling with vain pride, "Why/' says she, "do you go away from 
 hence? Hither direct your course: hither come to certain fate; that 
 you may receive a reward due for Camilla's death. What, shall such 
 as you die by the arrow of Diana?" She spake, and like a Thracian 
 huntress took from her quiver a swift arrow, and drew her bow with the 
 soul of vengeance, and stretched it far, until the bent ends met, and now 
 level are her hands, with her left hand she touches the point of the iron 
 arrow, with her right her breast. In an instant Arruns heard at once the 
 whizzing arrow, and the whistling air, and the iron point was fixed in his 
 body. Him as he gasped and sobbed his last groan his forgetful comrades 
 leave in the unknown dust of the plain ; Opis on her wings is borne to 
 Olympus and the sky. 
 
 868 — 895. The Latin horsemen are routed, and are driven to the walls 
 of the town, for which even the matrons fight. 
 
 First flies, their queen lost, Camilla's light squadron, the Kutulians fly 
 in confusion ; even Atinas, keen in fight, flies ; and the scattered captains 
 
 17—2 
 
260 VIRGIL. [XI. 871— 
 
 and the thinned troops make for safe ground, and with steeds turned in 
 flight speed to the walls. Nor could any one sustain with weapons the 
 charge of the Trojans dealing death, nor stand against them; but they 
 carry behind them their slack bows on their sluggish shoulders, while the 
 hoof of the steeds shakes in their speed the crumbling plain. To the 
 walls rolls the dust in turbid clouds of murky darkness, and from the 
 watch-towers the matrons, smiting their breast, raise the cries of women 
 to the stars of the sky. Those who in their course first burst into the open 
 gates, are hard pressed by a hostile throng in confused line ; nor do they 
 escape a miserable death ; but just at the threshold, at the battlements of 
 their own homes, they are pierced, and expire. Some haste to shut the 
 gates, they dare not open a way for their friends, or receive them within 
 the walls, as they pray ; and a most piteous slaughter follows of those 
 who with arms defended the entrance and those who rushed on arms. 
 Shut out were they before the eyes and gaze of their weeping parents, and 
 part roll into the steep trench, as ruin presses on them, while part blind 
 with terror, and urging their steeds with loosened reins, batter against 
 the gates, and the posts with hard l^ars. The very matrons on the vvalis 
 in the extremity of the contest — true patriotism points the way, they had 
 seen Camilla — in eager haste hurl darts with their hands, and with tough 
 oaken clubs, with stems and stakes hardened in the fire they rival steel, 
 and are the foremost in zeal for death in front of their walls. 
 896 — 915. Turmis on hearing $he news of the defeat of the cavalry 
 leaves the defile. Both he and Apneas pitch their camps. 
 Meanwhile Turnus' ears are filled in the forest by cruel news, and to 
 the youthful prince Acca is, the bearer of a mighty trouble, that the 
 Volscian troops are cut to pieces, Camilla slain, the enemy rushing on in 
 full force, and carrying all before thern in successful war ; that the terror 
 now reaches the very walls. He as one frenzied, for so the cruel will of 
 Jove demands, abandons the hills he had occupied, and leaves the woody 
 ground, a position difficult to attack. Scarce had he got out of view, and 
 reached the plain, when father y&teas enters the undefended defile, 
 passes the ridge, gets clear of the dark wood. So both swiftly march to 
 the walls with their whole force, not far distant the one from the other. 
 And at the sarne time ^Eneas beheld frorn afar the plains thick with rising 
 dust, and saw the Laurentian lines ; and Turnus recognized warlike 
 ^Eneas under arms, and heard the tramp of advancing infantry, and the 
 snorting steeds. And straightway had they begun the fight, and tried 
 the chance of war, but rosy-coloured Phcebus was just bathing his weary 
 horses in the Iberian sea, and fringing back night, as daylight melts 
 away. They pitch their camp before the town ; and raise their ramparts 
 round. 
 
XII. 45] THE ^ENEID. 261 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 1—80. The anger of Turnus is increased by the defeats of the Latins. 
 
 Notwithstanding the intreaties of Latinus and Amata, he resolves to 
 
 challenge JEneas to siiigle combat. 
 Turnus, when he sees that the Latins are shattered and disheartened 
 by unsuccessful war, that the fulfilment of his own promises is called for, 
 that men's eyes make him their mark, burns all the more with rage im- 
 placable, and higher lifts his pride. As in Carthaginian plains, the 
 mighty lion, his breast grievously wounded by the hunters, then at .last 
 wakes his weapons, and exultingly makes his shaggy muscles start from 
 his neck, and dauntlessly shivers the deep-fixed javelin of his assailant, 
 and roars with bloody mouth; even so in Turnus, once inflamed, the fury 
 swells up more and more. Then he thus addresses the king, and stormily 
 begins his speech : " No delay is caused by Turnus ; no pretext have 
 the spiritless people of JEneas for striving to recall their words, and re- 
 voking the compact they have made : I go to meet my enemy. Bring 
 the sacrifice, my father, and formally declare a truce. Either with this 
 right-hand of mine I will send dowit to Tartarus the Dardan, that run- 
 away from Asia (let the Latins sit still and see the sight); and will refute 
 with my single sword the charge that is laid against us all ; or let him be 
 master of the vanquished, let Lavinia be yielded him to be his bride." 
 To him with mind composed Latinus replied: "Youth of matchless spirit, 
 the more you surpass in fierce valour, the more thoughtfully is it meet 
 that I should deliberate, and anxiously balance every chance. You have 
 the realm of Daunus your father, you have many towns, captured by 
 your might ; Latinus too has gold and goodwill for you. There are other 
 maidens in Latium and the fields of Laurentum, they too of no ignoble 
 birth. Suffer me, with all disguise removed, to unfold these thoughts, 
 unpleasing to utter though they be. Withal do you receive this into your 
 heart : I was forbidden to unite my daughter with any one of her former 
 suitors ; and such was the warning of all gods and men alike. Overcome 
 by love for you, overcome by our kindred blood, and by the tears of my 
 sorrowing queen, I burst through all the ties that bound me; I robbed 
 my son-in-law of his betrothed ; I took up unhallowed arms against him. 
 You, Turnus, see what calamities, what wars have pursued me ever since 
 that time, what grievous toils you above the rest endure. Twice con- 
 quered in a great battle, we scarce maintain within our city the hopes of 
 Italy ; the streams of Tiber still run warm with our blood, and vast plains 
 are white with our bones. Wherefore do I so oft retrace my plans ? What 
 madness changes my resolve? If I am prepared to attach them to me 
 as my allies in case Turnus is destroyed, why do I not rather dissolve the 
 strife when he is unharmed? What will the Rutulians, my kinsmen, 
 what will the rest of Italy say, if — fortune refute my words! — it come 
 to pass that I have betrayed you to death, while you seek to win my 
 daughter, and by marriage to unite yourself with me? Consider the 
 changes and chances of war ; pity your aged father, whom now in sadness 
 his native Ardea holds, separated far from you." The rage of Turnus is 
 
262 VIRGIL. [XII. 46- 
 
 not a wit tamed by these words; it mounts still higher, and is made 
 worse by the attempt to cure it. As soon as he gained the power of ut- 
 terance, he thus began to speak : " The trouble you take for my sake, I 
 pray you, my excellent sire, for my sake lay aside, and suffer ine to pur- 
 chase honour with death. We too, my father, scatter darts, and no weak 
 weapon with our hand, and blood flows from a wound dealt by us. Far 
 from him will his goddess-mother be, to wrap her fugitive in a cloud, a 
 woman's craft, and hide herself in unavailing gloom." But the queen, 
 filled with terror at the strange conditions of the combat, ever wept, and, 
 resolved to die, clung to he*" fiery son-in-law : " O Turnus, by these tears 
 I shed I entreat you, by your respect for me (if any respect for Amata 
 touches your soul) — you are now the sole hope, you the sole comfort of 
 my joyless age; the honour and throne of Latinus reside in you; on you 
 reposes all our sinking house— one thing I beseech; cease to engage in 
 fight against the Trojans. Whatsoever fortunes await you in this con- 
 test, await me also, Turnus ; with you I will leave this hateful light, and 
 not see ^E-neas my son-in-law, myself his captive." Lavinia heard her 
 mother's words, with burning cheeks bathed in tears ; for a deep blush 
 shot fire into her veins, and overran her glowing face. As when with 
 crimson dye one stains the ivory of India, or mixed with many a rose 
 white lilies blush ; such hues the maiden snowed upon her countenance. 
 He is distracted with love, and fastens his looks upon the maiden; he is 
 still more frantic for the fight, and thus in few words addresses Amata : 
 " Do not, I intreat, do not attend me, when marching to the strife of 
 savage Mars, with tears, nor with an omen so fatal, O my mother: for 
 indeed to delay his doom is not within the power of Turnus. Idmon, be 
 my herald to bear to the Phrygian prince these words of mine, that will 
 not please his ear; so soon as to-morrow's dawn, borne upon crimson 
 wheels shall blush in heaven, let him not lead the Teucri against the 
 Rutulians ; let the arms of the Teucri be still, and the Rutulians ; with 
 our own blood let us decide the issue of the war: on that plain let La- 
 vinia be sought in marriage." 
 
 81 — 106. Turnus arms himself for the combat with Apneas. 
 When he had spoken these words, and with haste gone back into the 
 house, he calls for his steeds, and rejoices to view them prancing before 
 his eyes, the coursers which Orithyia herself gave to grace Pilumnus, 
 whose whiteness passed the snows, whose speed the gales. The ready 
 grooms stand round, and with the hollow of the hand pat the sounding 
 breasts of the horses, and comb their flowing manes. Next he himself 
 puts around his shoulders his corslet rough with gold and white orichal- 
 cum ; withal, he fits on for ready use his sword and shield, and the horns 
 of his ruddy crest ; the sword, which the lord of fire had himself made 
 for Daunus his father, and dipped it white with heat in the Stygian flood. 
 Straightway he strongly grasps a mighty spear, which stood beside him, 
 rested against a great pillar in the heart of the. mansion, the spoil he 
 took from Actor the Auruncan, and shakes it till it quivers ; crying aloud : 
 " Now, O my spear, that never failed my call, now the hour is come, it 
 was valiant Actor that wielded you once, it is the hand of Turnus that 
 wields you now : grant that I may strike down the body, and with strong 
 
XII. 1 49.] THE jENEID. 263 
 
 hand tear and rend away the corslet of the Phrygian eunuch, and soil 
 in the dust his curls, tricked with the heated iron, and wet with myrrh." 
 Such is the frenzy that drives him on, and flashes start from all his 
 glowing face ; a fire sparkles in his fierce eyes. As when a bull raises 
 fearful bellowings, the prelude of the fray, and trains himself to throw 
 into his horns his wrath, pushing at the trunk of a tree, and with his 
 blows defies the winds, and spurns the sand in practice for the fight. 
 107 — 133. The field is prepared for the conflict between JEneas and 
 
 Turnus. 
 
 And no less ^Eneas, meanwhile, dauntless in the armour given by his 
 mother, whets his warlike spirit, and stirs himself with wrath, glad that 
 the war is settled by the compact offered him. Then he cheers his com- 
 rades and the fear of his sorrowing lulus, expounding the fates, and bids 
 the envoys carry back to king Latinus his resolved reply, and propose 
 the terms of the peace. The following daybreak had scarce begun to 
 sow the mountain-tops with light, when the horses of the Sun are just 
 arising from the depths of the flood, and from uplifted nostrils breathe 
 the day. Rutulians and Trojans marked out and made ready the field 
 for the contest, beneath the walls of the great city ; and in the midst 
 hearths and grassy altars to their common gods ; others brought the 
 spring water and the fire, with linen veils, and brows with vervain bound. 
 Forth comes the host of the Ausonidas, and troops armed with the pilum 
 pour out from the crowded gates : hence, in various arms, rushes all the 
 Trojan and Etruscan army, as completely arrayed in steel, as if the rude 
 battle of Mars were calling them on. Moreover, in the centre of their 
 thousands, the captains themselves are fluttering, in the pride of gold and 
 purple ; both Mnestheus the child of Assaracus, and stout Asilas, and 
 Messapus the tamer of horses, the progeny of Neptune. And so soon as 
 at a signal given each man retires to his own position, they fix in earth 
 their spears, and lean their shields on the ground. Then, eagerly stream- 
 ing forth, mothers and the unarmed rabble, and nerveless old men, 
 thickly crowd the towers and house-tops; others stand by the high-built 
 gates. 
 
 134 — 160. Juno, to save the life of Turnus r, urges Juturna to break 
 
 the truce. 
 
 But Juno, as she looked out from the summit of the slope that is now 
 called the Alban hill (then the mount had neither name nor honour or 
 renown), surveyed the plain and both the lines, the array of the Laurentes 
 and of the Trojans, and the town of Latinus. Straightway she thus spoke 
 to the sister of Turnus (a goddess addressing a goddess, who is mistress of 
 the meres and murmuring streams; this place of honour Jove, high king 
 of heaven, dedicated to her, the recompense for her ravished maidenhood): 
 " Nymph, beauty of the rivers, right dear to my heart, thou knowest that 
 thou art the one whom I have favoured above all the maids of Latium, 
 that have ascended haughty Jove's unduteous couch, and cheerfully have 
 established thee in a share of heaven ; learn, to prevent thee from ac- 
 cusing me, the cause of thy trouble. So far as fortune seemed to permit, 
 and the Parcse allowed the course of Latium's state to be prosperous, I 
 protected Turnus, and the walls of thy city. Now I see that the youth 
 
264 VIRGIL. [XII. r 5 o— 
 
 is hastening to meet destinies he cannot withstand; and the day ap- 
 pointed by the Fates draws nigh, and their power that is against him. I 
 cannot view with my eyes this conflict, this treaty. Do thou, if thou 
 darest to give thy brother any more effectual aid, proceed, it is thy proper 
 part : perchance a better fortune will yet reach the unhappy." Scarce 
 had she spoken, when Juturna shed from her eyes a stream of tears, and 
 again and again smote with her hand her beauteous breast: "This is 
 not the time for tears," says Juno, Saturn's child; "make speed, and if 
 any means there be, rescue thy brother from death ; or do thou awake 
 the war, and shatter the compacted truce. It is I who prompt thee to be 
 bold." With these exhortations she left her there wavering in purpose, 
 and distracted by the grievous wound of the mind. 
 
 161 — 216. The chiefs enter the field. The vows of JEneas and Latinus. 
 Meanwhile the monarchs advance ; Latinus, surrounded by a mass of 
 state, is carried in a chariot drawn by four steeds ; twelve golden beams 
 circle his dazzling brows, the ensign of the Sun, his grandsire ; drawn by 
 two white horses Turnus comes along, waving in his hand two shafts with 
 broad heads of steel. After him father ^Eneas, the author of the Roman 
 line, blazing with starry shield and arms of heaven ; and beside him As- 
 canius, the second hope of mighty Rome, come forth from the camp, and 
 the priest in spotless robe presented the offspring of a bristly sow, and 
 ewe never shorn, and brought the victims to the flaming altars. They, 
 with eyes turned towards the rising sun, offer in their hands the salted 
 meal, and with the steel mark the victims on the top of the brows, and 
 pour a libation from the bowls upon the altars. Then pious ^Eneas 
 draws his sword, and thus makes his prayer : " Now, O Sun, be thou my 
 witness, and this land attest my prayer, for whose sake I have been able 
 to endure toils so hard; and thou Almighty father, and Juno, child of 
 Saturn ; now, now, O queen, more kind, I pray ; and thou renowned 
 Mavors, that art the sire who dost govern all wars beneath thy sway ; and 
 Springs and Streams I call ; and all that is worshipped in high heaven, 
 and all the Powers in the dark blue sea ; if perchance Victory side with 
 Ausonian Turnus, it is covenanted that the vanquished withdraw to 
 Evander's town : Ascanius shall quit these fields, and the people of yEneas 
 shall not hereafter renew the war, and make a fresh incursion, or harass 
 this -kingdom with the sword. But if it prove that Victory makes the 
 battle our own (as I rather believe, and so may Heaven's will rather 
 sanction!) I will neither bid the Italians obey the Teucri, nor do I claim 
 for myself the sovereignty ; let both nations, unsubdued, enter under equal 
 conditions upon an everlasting compact. I will ordain rights and divini- 
 ties ; let my father-in-law Latinus hold the rule in war, let him possess the 
 fixed command ; for me the Teucri shall set up my walls, and Lavinia 
 shall give the town her name." So spoke ./Eneas first ; after him Latinus 
 follows thus, gazing up to heaven, and uplifts his right-hand towards the 
 stars : " These same Powers I call to witness, O ^Eneas, Earth, Sea, 
 Stars, and the twin offspring of Latona, and Janus of double front, and 
 the might of the gods below, and the sanctuary of unpitying Dis : these 
 vows let the Father hear, who ratifies treaties with his thunderbolt. 
 I touch the altars, and adjure the fires that burn between us, and the 
 
XII. 25i.] THE MNEID. 265 
 
 deities : no term of time shall break this peace, this compact of the men 
 of Italy, whatever be the issue of events; and no force shall make me 
 willingly swerve ; not if it spill the land into the main, confounding both 
 in a deluge, and dissolve into Tartarus the sky ; as this sceptre,"— for in 
 his right-hand he chanced to bear a sceptre, — "will never shoot forth 
 twigs nor foliage of tender leaf, since once and for ever hewn away in the 
 woods from the bottom of its stem, it has lost its parent, and has shed 
 beneath the steel its leaves and sprays ; once a tree ; now the craftsman's 
 hand has cased it in adorning brass, and given it to the fathers of Latium 
 to bear." With such words they mutually confirmed the compact, in the 
 midst of the gazing lords. Then over the flame they slaughter the victims 
 duly hallowed, and from the living bodies snatch forth the vitals, and 
 with laden chargers pile the altars high. 
 217 — 276. Juturna, in the form of Canters, incites the Rutulians to 
 
 break the treaty. Tohumiius, encouraged by an omen, hurls his spear 
 
 into the ranks of the Arcadians, and kills Gylippus. 
 But in the eyes of the Rutulians the combat had now long appeared 
 unequal, and their minds were distracted with manifold anxiety ; still 
 more so at this moment, when by nearer view they perceive that the 
 champions are ill-matched in strength. Turnus deepens the feeling, as 
 he advances with silent step, and with downcast eye humbly pays his 
 homage to the altar ; and so do his bloodless cheeks, and the paleness 
 in his youthful frame. So soon as his sister Juturna saw that this 
 rumour was gaining ground, and that the hearts of the crowd were waver- 
 ing and unsettled, into the midst of the array, in form made like to 
 Camers (whose ancestral descent was glorious, and his fathers name 
 renowned for bravery, and himself right valiant in arms), into the midst 
 of the array she plunges, knowing well the course of events, and flings 
 abroad various reports, and thus she speaks : "Are you not ashamed, 
 Rutulians, to risk a single life for all these men so brave ? Is it in 
 numbers or in force that we do not match the foe? Lo, these are all 
 the Trojans and Arcadians, and the host of destiny, Etruria the enemy 
 of Turnus. Should we close in fight, scarce has every second man of 
 us an antagonist. He indeed will mount in fame to the gods above, 
 to whose shrines he devotes himself, and undying will be wafted through 
 the mouths of men : we, our country lost, shall be forced to obey proud 
 masters, we who now have sat down idly on the field." With such words 
 the resolution of the warriors is fired ever more and more, and the 
 murmuring steals on through the lines ; even the Laurentes, and even 
 the Latins are swayed. The men that just now hoped for rest from 
 battle and safety for their fortunes, now wish for arms, and pray that 
 the compact be made void, and pity the hard lot of Turnus. To these 
 words Juturna adds another greater sign, and gives an omen in the 
 height of heaven, one that more forcibly than any other excited the minds 
 of the Italians, and beguiled them by its prodigy. For flying in the 
 reddened air the tawny bird of Jove was seen to chase the fowls of the 
 shore, and the noisy throng of the winged train : when suddenly swooping 
 towards the flood he greedily bears away the choicest swan in his 
 crooked talons. Aroused were the spirits of the Italians, and all the 
 
266 VIRGIL. [XII. 252— 
 
 birds clamorously turn from flight — a wondrous sight to view — and 
 darken with their wings the sky. and, formed into a cloud, press close 
 upon their enemy through the air ; until the eagle, vanquished by their 
 force and the very weight of his victim, gave way, and dropped the prey 
 from his talons into the stream, and fled far away into the clouds. Then 
 do the Rutulians hail with shouts the omen, and make ready their troops 
 for the fight ; and foremost the augur Tolumnius speaks : " This, this 
 it was that I oft besought with prayers. I accept the sign, and acknow- 
 ledge the will of the gods : led by me, by me, grasp the sword, ye 
 wretched men, ye whom a greedy adventurer scares in war, like feeble 
 birds, and savagely wastes your shores. He will take to flight, and 
 spread his sails far away across the deep. With one mind marshal your 
 troops in close array, and in war defend your ravished prince." He 
 spoke, and running forward hurled his lance against the foes that faced 
 him : the whizzing shaft gives forth a noise, and truly cleaves the air. 
 In a moment it is done : in a moment there is a mighty cry, and all 
 the battalions are disordered, and their hearts are heated with the 
 tumult. The flying spear, as the beauteous forms of nine brethren 
 chanced to be stationed opposite, each one of which number a faithful 
 Tuscan wife had borne to Arcadian Gylippus, pierces through the ribs 
 one of these, a youth of noble form and flashing arms, in the middle 
 of the body, where the woven sword-belt presses tight upon the belly, 
 and the buckle bites the clasped edges of the belt, and tumbles him on 
 the yellow sand. 
 
 277 — 323. The fray becomes general, and many are killed on both 
 sides. JEneas, while he attempts to check the conflict, is wounded 
 by an unknown hand. 
 
 But his brethren, a gallant band, and fired with grief, partly draw 
 forth their swords, partly snatch up the missile steel, and blindly rush 
 on. Against them speed forth the troops of Laurentum. Hereupon in 
 a returning tide flock on Trojans and men of Agylla, and Arcadians 
 with arms inwrought. So all are possessed with the same passion to 
 decide the issue with the steel. 
 
 Instantly they strip the altars : through all the sky flies thick the 
 hurtling storm of darts, and heavy falls the iron rain : wine-bowls and 
 brasiers they bring to battle. Latinus himself flees away, carrying back 
 the gods spurned by the disannulling of the treaty. Others harness 
 horses to their cars, or with a spring fling themselves upon their steeds, 
 and with drawn swords join the fray. Messapus, eager to dissolve the 
 truce, affrights by riding at him the Tuscan Aulestes, a king, and 
 wearing the kingly escutcheon ; he falls backward in retreat, and is 
 miserably thrown against the altars that stand in his way behind, upon 
 the head and shoulders ; then Messapus hotly flies upon him with his 
 spear, and from the height of his horse grievously smites him with his 
 beamy shaft, in the midst of his entreaties, and thus he speaks : " This 
 blow has reached him ; this, a goodlier victim, is offered to the great 
 gods." The Italians crowd to the place, and strip his limbs yet warm. 
 Chorinseus, standing in the way, snatches from the altar a half-burnt 
 brand, and full in the face of Ebusus, as he comes on, and intends a 
 
XII. S50-] THE sENEID. 267 
 
 wound, dashes the flame : out blazed all his beard, and the scorched 
 hair gave forth a stench : his antagonist, following up the blow, seizes 
 with his left-hand the long locks of his bewildered foe, and, pressing his 
 knee upon him with all his might, fastens the man against the ground : 
 so, he smites him with the point of his sword. Podalirius following with 
 naked blade the shepherd Alsus, as in the front of the host he hastens 
 through the shower of darts, threatens him from above ; the other with 
 the sweep of his axe meets his foe, and cleaves him through the midst 
 of his brow and chin, and bedews his armour all over with the scattered 
 brain. Stern quiet loads his eyes, and iron sleep ; his eyelids close to 
 everlasting night. But pious ^Eneas, with head exposed, stretched forth 
 his unarmed hand, and with a shout called upon his men: "Whither' 
 are ye rushing? or what means this sudden rising quarrel? Restrain 
 your rage, I pray you : the truce is now concluded, and all conditions 
 settled ; I alone am permitted to engage in combat : leave me to myself, 
 and drive away your doubts ; I with my own hand will form a binding 
 league : these sacred rites make Turnus now my due." While he uttered 
 these cries, and these words were on his lips, lo, an arrow with whizzing 
 wings lighted on the hero : by what hand discharged, by what blast 
 impelled, who it was, whether chance or god, that bestowed so great 
 renown on the Rutulians, is unknown ; lost is the glory of the illustrious 
 deed ; nor did any one make his boast in the wound of ^Eneas. 
 324 — 382. Turnus is encouraged by the retreat of JEneas from the field. 
 His deeds of valour. 
 Turnus, when he sees ^Eneas retiring from the host, and his captains 
 dismayed, glows and burns with sudden hope ; he demands his steeds 
 and arms withal, and with a proud leap bounds upon his car, and with 
 his own hands plies the reins. Many a valiant frame does he give 
 to death in his winged course ; many does he roll on earth half-slain, 
 or trample down ranks with his chariot, or snatch up lances and shower 
 them on the fugitives. Even as when bloody Mavors, stirred to battle 
 beside the streams of cold Hebrus, clashes his shield, and, as he wakes 
 the war, gives rein to his maddened steeds ; they across the open plain 
 fly forth before the south winds and Zephyrus ; the utmost bound of 
 Thrace resounds beneath the tramp of feet, and all around him speed 
 along faces of gloomy Dread and Anger and Ambush, the followers of 
 the god ; like him Turnus amid the thickest of the fight with vigour 
 urges his steeds that smoke with sweat, trampling on his foes miserably 
 slain ; the rushing hoof dashes up sprays of blood, and mixed with 
 gore the sand is trodden down. And in an instant he consigned to 
 slaughter Sthenelus and Thamyris and Pholus, the first two in close 
 conflict, the other from afar ; from afar he slew both the sons of Im- 
 brasus, Glaucus and Lades, whom Imbrasus had himself reared in 
 Lycia, and adorned them both with equal arms, either to join in close 
 combat, or on the courser to outstrip the winds. In another part 
 Eumedes rushes into the midst of the fray, the child renowned in war 
 of ancient Dolon, in name the likeness of his grandfather, in soul and 
 strength of his sire ; who, in days of yore, dared to claim for his own 
 the car of Pelides as his price, to go a spy into the camp of the Danai ; 
 
268 VIRGIL, [XIT. 351— 
 
 to him Tydides rendered another price for such a deed of daring ; and 
 he does not aspire to the horses of Achilles. Him when Turnus descried 
 from afar on the open plain, having first pursued him o'er the wide space 
 with his fleet dart, he stays the course of his car, and leaps down from 
 the chariot, and comes upon him half-dead and prostrate, and, with 
 foot planted on his neck, wrenches the sword from his hand, and dyes 
 the glittering blade deep in his throat, and speaks this taunt besides : 
 " See, Trojan, you measure as you lie the fields and the Italy you 
 thought to win in war ; this is the prize they bear away who dare to 
 provoke me with the steel ; thus they found their walls." With the cast 
 of his spear he sends to bear him company Asbutes ; and Chloreus, and 
 Sybaris and Dares and Thersilochus, and Thymcetes, tumbled from the 
 neck of his horse that threw its rider. Even as when the blast of 
 Thracian Boreas roars across the ^Egaean deep, and chases the billows 
 to the shore ; where the winds chance to swoop, the clouds flee along the 
 sky ; so before Turnus, wherever he cleaves a path, the ranks give way, 
 and the lines turn in hurried flight ; the warrior is borne onwards by his 
 own force, and the breeze ruffles the plume that streams against the 
 course of the chariot. Phegeus brooked him not as he pressed along 
 with exulting heart ; he threw himself in the way of the car, and with 
 his right-hand plucked aside in full career the mouths of the horses that 
 foamed upon the bit. As he is dragged along, and hangs from the 
 yoke, the broad lance overtakes him while exposed, and fixing deep tears 
 through the corslet of double mail, and scarce wounds slightly the surface 
 of his body. Yet he, guarding himself with his shield, turned round 
 and was advancing against his enemy, and drew his sword to succour 
 him, when the wheel and axle with the force of its onward career 
 struck him down headlong, and tumbled him on the ground ; and 
 Turnus pursuing him lopped away with the sword his head between 
 the extremity of the helmet and the uppermost rim of the breastplate, and 
 left him headless on the sand. 
 
 383 — 440. The wound of Apneas is mh'aculoiisly healed by the aid of 
 Venus. His farewell to Ascanius. 
 And while victorious Turnus works these deaths upon the plain, mean- 
 while Mnestheus, and trusty Achates, and Ascanius by his side set 
 yEneas in the camp stained with gore, supporting with his long lance 
 each successive step. He is frantic with rage, and strains to pluck out 
 the head of the broken shaft, and cries for the quickest means of remedy ; 
 bids them cut the wound with the blade of the sword, and cleave open 
 to the bottom the hidden seat of the shaft, and let him go back into 
 the war. And now came to the spot lapis son of Iasus, beyond all 
 other men beloved by Phoebus, he upon whom in former time Apollo, 
 inspired with passionate love, cheerfully offered to bestow with his own 
 hand his peculiar arts, his own attributes, the gift of augury and the 
 harp and flying arrows. He, that he might delay the doom of his sire 
 sick to death, chose rather to know the virtues of herbs and the practice 
 of healing, and exercise unfamed the silent arts. y£neas was standing 
 in the bitterness of rage, leaning on his mighty spear, amid a vast 
 throng of warriors and his sorrowing lulus, himself untouched with tears. 
 
XII. 453-1 THE AZNEID. 269 
 
 The skilled old man, his robe rolled back and girt high in the fashion 
 of his tribe, with healing hand and the sovereign herbs of Phoebus 
 makes many a hurried attempt, in vain solicits with his hand the dart, 
 and oft with biting pincers tugs the steel. No fortune guides his path, 
 no means of succour does Apollo create ; and ever more and more dread 
 alarm deepens o'er the plains, and disaster draws nearer and nearer. 
 Already they see the sky become a column of dust ; and horsemen ride 
 close up, and darts fall thickly into the heart of the camp. To heaven 
 goes the dismal cry of men that fight and men that fall beneath un- 
 pitying Mars. Hereupon^his mother Venus, distracted by her son's un- 
 merited agony, plucks from Cretan Ida a stalk of dittany with downy 
 leaves and feathery purple bloom ; well-known is the plant to the wild 
 goats, when winged arrows chance to fix deep in their body. It was 
 this that Venus brought, her form enveloped in a cloud of gloom ; this 
 she steeps in streams poured into shining vessels, and secretly medicates 
 the cup ; and sprinkles health-giving juices of ambrosia, and fragrant 
 panacea. With this water, though he knew it not, aged lapis bathed 
 the wound ; and in a moment all pain readily fled from the body, all 
 the blood was stanched from the bottom of the wound ; and now the 
 shaft without an effort followed the hand and dropped to the ground, 
 and his strength renewed returned to its former vigour. " Hasten with 
 speed to bring the hero's arms! Why stand ye still?" lapis cries aloud; 
 and foremost fires their souls against the foe. "It is not by human 
 aid, not by the methods of art, that this is brought to pass, nor is it 
 my hand that saves you, yEneas : one greater than I, a god, is at work, 
 and sends you back to greater deeds." The prince with eagerness had 
 cased his ankles all around in gold for the battle, and loathes delays, 
 and brandishes his lance. When the shield is fitted to his side, and the 
 corslet to his back, he clasps Ascanius, and throws his armed frame 
 around him ; and printing a light kiss through his helmet, speaks to 
 him thus : " From me, my boy, learn valour and true toil ; from others 
 fortune. My right-hand now will guard you safe in war, and lead you 
 where high prizes are to be won. Be sure that you remember, when 
 in its course your youth has grown to ripeness ; and as in your mind 
 you look for patterns among your kinsmen, let yEneas your sire, and 
 Hector your uncle stir your soul." 
 
 441 — 487. Jutiirna foils the effoi'ts of JEneas to encounter Turnus. 
 When he had uttered these words, he strode in mighty stature through 
 the gates, brandishing his ponderous spear ; withal in crowded array 
 Antheus and Mnestheus haste along, and all the host forsake the camp 
 and stream forth. Then the plain is troubled with a dark cloud of dust, 
 and the ground stirs and shakes beneath the tramp of feet. Turnus 
 saw them as they came on from the opposite rampart : the Ausonians 
 saw them ; and an icy shudder thrilled even through their bones. First 
 Juturna, before all the Latins, heard and recognised the noise, and 
 quailed and fled away. The hero wings his way, and speeds his dark 
 troop o'er the open plain. As when a tempest, bursting forth from 
 heaven to earth, passes o'er the midst of the main, alas, the hearts of 
 the wretched husbandmen, boding from afar, begin to quake ; it will 
 
270 VIRGIL. [XII. 454— 
 
 bring wreck to the trees., and havoc to the crops, and lay waste all 
 things far and wide ; the winds fly on before, and waft the din to the 
 beach ; like it the Rhceteian captain urges on his host to meet the foe ; 
 in close array they all throng to the marshalled battalions. With the 
 sword Thymbraeus smites the huge Osiris, Mnestheus Archetius ; Achates 
 cuts down Epulo, and Gyas Ufens ; the augur Tolumnius himself falls, 
 who had been the first to hurl his lance against the foe. A shout is 
 raised to heaven, and the Rutulians in turn give way, and haste in dusty 
 flight across the ^fi elds. He himself neither deigns to strike down to 
 death those that turn their backs, nor moves to meet those who face 
 him with fairly-matched steps, nor those who fling the shaft ; Turnus 
 alone he tracks and searches in the thick darkness, him alone he calls 
 to the combat. Distraught in soul with fear of this, the warrior-maid 
 Juturna tumbles down amid the reins Metiscus, the charioteer of Tur- 
 nus, and leaves him fallen far from the pole of the car ; she mounts 
 herself, and with her hands directs the flowing reins, wearing all the 
 marks of Metiscus, both voice and form and arms. As when through 
 the great mansion of a wealthy lord a black swallow flits, and traverses 
 the lofty halls, gathering its little store of food, and morsels for its 
 twittering nestlings, and noisily flies, now along spacious colonnades, now 
 round watery pools ; like it Juturna is borne by the coursers through 
 the midst of the foes, and in her rushing car manoeuvres to every point 
 her flight ; and now here, now there, she shews her brother in his 
 triumph, and suffers him not to close in fight ; far out of the way she 
 flies. No less ^Eneas threads mazy circles to meet him, and tracks the 
 warrior, and with loud voice cries to him through the shattered ranks. As 
 often as he cast his looks upon his foe, and challenged on foot the flight 
 of the winged steeds, so often Juturna turned back and drove away the 
 chariot. Alas, what is he to do ? In vain he is swayed by a changeful 
 tide, and discordant thoughts summon his mind to contrary points. 
 488 — 554. ^Eneas, provoked by the javelin of Messapus, gives tip the 
 chase of Turnus^ and attacks the Rutulians. 
 Against him Messapus, light of foot, as he chanced in his left- 
 hand to carry two pliant javelins tipped with steel, hurled one of these, 
 aiming with unerring force. ^Eneas halted, and drew himself within 
 cover of his arms, sinking down upon his knee ; yet the forceful spear 
 bore away the point of his helmet's peak, and struck away from his 
 head-piece the top of the crest. Then it is that his wrath arises, and 
 overcome by the treacherous ambush, when he perceives that the steeds 
 and car are driven far away, having oft taken Jove to witness, and 
 the altars of the violated truce, he now at last plunges into the midst, 
 and, backed by Mars, terribly awakes a dreadful carnage without dis- 
 tinction, and flings loose all the flowing reins of wrath. What god 
 can now describe for me so many dreadful deeds, who in song can tell 
 of the carnage on either side, and the fall of the captains, whom now 
 Turnus, now the hero of Troy rout over all the plain in turn ? Was 
 it thy will, O Jove, that nations destined to live in endless peace should 
 close in combat with rage so fierce? ^Eneas encountered Sucro the 
 Rutulian (this conflict first stayed in fixed position the Teucri in their 
 
XII. 55&1 THE ALXEID. 271 
 
 onset), and without long delay smote him on the side, and, at the point 
 where death is quickest, drove through the ribs and frame-work of the 
 breast the cruel sword. Turnus fighting on foot met Amycus and 
 hurled him from his horse, and slew also his brother Diores, smiting 
 the one with his long spear, as he came on, the other with the edge 
 of the sword ; and the severed heads of the two he hung from his car, 
 and bore them on, dripping with dews of blood. The former sends to 
 their doom Talos and Tanais and the brave Cethegus, meeting the three 
 at once, and ill-starred Onytes, by name Echion's son, Peridia was the 
 mother who bore him. The latter slays the brethren sent forth from 
 Lycia and Apollo's fields, and a youth who in vain detested battles, 
 Arcadian Mencetes, whose craft and poor abode -had been about the 
 streams of Lerna, haunt of fish ; unknown to him was the business of 
 the great, and rented was the land his father sowed. Even like flames 
 from different points thrown in upon a dry forest, and thickets of crack- 
 ling laurel ; or as when in rushing career down from mountain heights 
 foaming torrents roar aloud, and gallop to the main, making each his 
 own lane of devastation : with no less might the twain, yEneas and 
 Turnus, speed through the fray ; now, now, surges up the wrath within ; 
 mangled are breasts that know not how to yield ; now with all force 
 they press to meet the wound. The former strikes down headlong 
 Murranus, who loudly boasted the ancient names of generation on gene- 
 ration of ancestors, and all his line derived through Latin kings, with 
 a crag and ponderous whirling rock, and tumbles him on the ground ; 
 him the wheels roll prostrate down beneath the reins and yoke ; upon 
 him with many a blow trample the hoofs of his coursers in full career, 
 and regardless of their lord. The latter speeds to meet Hyllus as he 
 rushes on with boundless rage at heart, and hurls the javelin at his 
 gold-clad brows ; right through his helm the spear fixed fast within the 
 brain. Nor did your right-hand, O Cretheus, bravest of Greeks, rescue 
 you from Turnus ; nor did the gods he served protect Cupencus at the 
 approach of ./Eneas ; he presented his breast to meet the steel, nor did 
 the resistance of his brazen shield avail the hapless man. You too, 
 /Eolus, the Laurentian plains saw meet your fate, and on your back 
 o'erspread a length of earth. You fall, you whom the Argive phalanxes 
 could not lay low, nor Achilles, the destroyer of the realm of Priam. 
 Here was yoar goal of doom ; a lofty mansion was yours beneath Ida, 
 a lofty mansion at Lyrnessus ; on the soil of Laurentum is your grave. 
 The whole of the armies are utterly intermingled, all the Latins, all the 
 men of Troy ; Mnestheus and stout Serestus, and Messapus, tamer of 
 horses, and brave Asyias, and the Tuscan phalanx, and the squadrons 
 of Arcadian Evander ; each man, on his own account, struggles with 
 the utmost strain of his powers. No pause, no respite ; a fearful strife 
 they wage. 
 
 ^H — 613. JEneas, moved by Venus, attacks a7id sets fire to the city. 
 
 The suicide of A?nata, and the despair of Lavinia and Laiinus. 
 
 It was here that his beauteous mother inspired ^Eneas with the resolve 
 
 to march towards the walls, and turn his host against the' city with 
 
 all speed, and rout the Latins with unlooked-for carnage. He, while 
 
 1 
 
272 VIRGIL. [XII. 557— 
 
 tracking Turnus through the several hosts, hither and thither shot his 
 glance around ; he views the town exempt from share in so fierce a 
 conflict, and quiet and unharmed. Straightway he is fired with the 
 vision of a greater fight. He summons his captains Mnestheus and 
 Sergestus and the brave Serestus, and occupies a mound, whither all 
 the rest of the Trojan legion quickly muster, and in close array lay not 
 aside their spears or shafts. He, standing in the midst on the lofty 
 rampart, addresses them thus : " Let no man delay to perform my words ; 
 on this side Jove takes his stand ; and let no man be slower to obey 
 me because my enterprise is sudden. This day I will utterly raze the 
 city, the cause of the war, the very heart of the realm of Latinus, unless 
 they consent to receive the curb, and as conquered men submit to me, 
 and will lay level with the ground his smouldering roofs. Am I to 
 stay forsooth, till it be the pleasure of Turnus to await our onslaught, 
 and ' till the conquered warrior choose again to meet us ? This, my 
 citizens, is the life, this the heart of the unholy war. Quickly bring 
 brands, and with flames claim back the broken truce." So he spoke ; 
 and they all, their hearts inspired with equal zeal, form a wedge, and 
 in a dense mass make their onset against the walls. Suddenly scaling- 
 ladders are seen, and the unexpected flash of fire. Some hurry to the 
 gates, and kill the first they meet ; others hurl the steel, and shadow 
 the sky with darts. ^Eneas himself among the foremost stretches his 
 hand towards the walls, and with loud voice accuses Latinus ; and 
 takes Heaven to witness that he is forced to resort to arms again ; that 
 the Italians are now twice his foes, that this is the second compact 
 they have broken. Dissension springs up among the affrighted citizens ; 
 some urge that the town be opened, and the gates laid wide to the 
 Dardans, and drag to the battlements the king himself; others bring 
 arms, and set themselves to defend the walls. As when in the crevices 
 of a pumice-rock a shepherd tracks out the bees that lurk within, and 
 fills the nest with bitter smoke ; they within, alarmed for their safety, 
 hurry to and fro throughout their waxen camp, and with loud buzzings 
 whet their rage. The black and noisome vapour rolls through the 
 mansion ; then with stifled hum the crags resound within ; the smoke 
 goes upward to the empty air. This catastrophe besides befel the dis- 
 heartened Latins, which shook the whole city to its foundations with 
 sorrow. The queen, when from her dwelling she beholds the foe ad- 
 vance, the walls beset, and fire-brands flying to the roofs, no Rutulian 
 host anywhere to meet the enemy, no troops of Turnus, unhappily 
 believes that the warrior has perished in the strife of battle ; and, 
 troubled in spirit by the sudden pang of grief, cries out that herself is 
 the cause and guilty source and spring of woes ; and when she has 
 spoken many distracted words through the frenzy of sorrow, resolved to 
 die she violently tears her purple robes, and twines from a lofty beam 
 the noose of an abhorred death. So soon as the wretched women of 
 Latium heard of this fatal disaster, first Lavinia, her daughter, her yellow 
 hair and rosy cheeks disfigured with her own hand, after her, all the 
 throng rave with grief around ; with mourning loud the palace resounds 
 throughout. From hence the news is spread abroad through the whole 
 
XII. 66o.] THE jENEID. 273 
 
 city. . Men's spirits droop ; with garments rent Latinus goes along, stunned 
 by his consort's doom, and city's wreck, shamefully besmearing his grey 
 hairs with unclean dust ; and oft he blames himself, that he has not 
 before received ^Eneas of Troy, and made him his son-in-law besides. 
 614 — 696. Turnus hears the tumult from the city. His address to 
 
 Juturna. Finally he rushes back to the city, and calls upon the 
 
 armies to cease from the battle. 
 
 Meanwhile upon the distant plain the warrior Turnus chases the few 
 stragglers, now more slow, and now less and less pleased with his 
 coursers' victorious pace. To him the breeze wafted a cry mingled with 
 vague alarms ; and the noise of the bewildered town, and its woeful 
 murmur, struck upon his listening ears. "Ah me! why are the walls 
 troubled with grief so loud ? or what means this cry so sad, which flies 
 from the distant city?" So he speaks, and in distraction pauses, drawing 
 in the reins. And him his sister, since transformed into the shape of 
 Metiscus, she was governing car, and steeds, and reins, challenges with 
 these words : " By this path, Turnus, let us follow the men of Troy, 
 this path by which victory opens out the readiest way. Others there 
 are who can stoutly defend their homes : ^Eneas lowers over the Italians, 
 and stirs the tumult of battle ; let us too, with our might, inflict upon 
 the Trojans bitter deaths. You will leave the field, unequal neither in 
 number of the slain, nor in the honour of war." Turnus in reply : " My 
 sister, from the first I knew you, when you were foremost by craft to 
 break the truce, and devoted yourself to this warfare ; and now it is 
 in vain that your divinity would be concealed. But by whose -will are 
 you sent down from Olympus to endure toils so hard ? Was it to view 
 your hapless brother's piteous fall? For what avail the deeds I do? 
 or what good fortune now assures me safety? Myself before my^yes 
 I have beheld Murranus while he cried aloud upon me, than whom 
 no dearer one to me survives, meet his doom, a mighty man, and 
 vanquished by a mighty blow. The hapless Ufens fell, that he might 
 not look on my disgrace ; the Teucri have his body and his arms. 
 Shall I even suffer our dwellings to be razed to the ground? this only 
 wanted to complete my shame ; and shall I not with my hand refute the 
 words of Drances ? Shall I turn my back in flight ? and shall this land 
 see Turnus a fugitive ? Is it so passing hard to die ? Ye Powers of the 
 dead, be ye gracious to me, since the goodwill of the gods above is 
 turned from me. A holy spirit I will descend to you, and one that 
 knows not that disgrace, a man never unworthy of his mighty fore- 
 fathers." Scarce had he said these words, lo, through the midst of the 
 enemy, Saces is borne along upon his foaming steed, wounded with an 
 arrow in the front of his countenance ; and on he speeds, by name 
 beseeching Turnus : " Turnus, in you is our last relief ; pity your friends ! 
 ^Eneas thunders in arms, and threatens to hurl down the topmost 
 heights of the Italian towers, and give them to destruction ; and now 
 the fire-brands are flying to the roofs ; on you the Latins cast their 
 looks, on you their eyes ; king Latinus himself in muttered words doubts 
 what sons-in-law to invite, or to what alliance to incline. Moreover, the 
 queen, your surest friend, has perished by her own hand, and in wild 
 
 VIR. 18 
 
274 VIRGIL. [XII. 661— 
 
 dismay has fled the light. Alone before the gates Messapus and brave 
 Atinas strive to rally the host ; around them on each side stand crowded 
 battalions, and an iron harvest bristles with pointed blades ; you o'er 
 an empty field drive round your car." Bewildered at the changeful 
 • show of events, Turnus stood aghast, and paused in speechless gaze ; in 
 the bottom of his heart surges boundless shame, and frenzy mixed with 
 grief, and love goaded by fury, and the consciousness of valour. So 
 soon as the mists were swept away, and light came back to his mind, 
 full of trouble he turned the glowing glance of his eyes towards the walls, 
 and from his chariot looked back upon the mighty city. But lo, curling 
 between the floors, a flaming torrent rolled its waves to heaven, and 
 encompassed the tower, the tower which he had himself reared up with 
 jointed beams, and placed upon wheels, and spanned with lofty bridges. 
 " Now, now, my sister, fate prevails ; cease your efforts to keep me back ; 
 where God, and where cruel Fortune calls us, let us follow. It is my 
 purpose to face in fight ^Eneas ; my purpose to endure all the bitterness 
 of death ; nor, my own sister, shall you longer see me tainted with dis- 
 honour ; let me first, I implore you, indulge this fit of frenzy." He 
 spoke, and from his car with speed leapt down upon the plain ; and 
 through foes, through darts he rushes on, and leaves behind his sor- 
 rowing sister, and in fleet career bursts through the centre of the host. 
 Even as when, torn away by the wind, or washed down by a torrent 
 of rain, a crag shoots headlong from a mountain-top, or is undermined 
 and loosened by the course of years, the crashing rock with mighty 
 force comes rushing down, and bounds along the ground, sweeping with 
 it forests, herds, and men ; so through the shivered ranks Turnus hurries 
 on to the walls of the town, where the earth is deepest drenched with 
 flowing blood, and the air is loud with the whiz of spears : and beckons 
 with his hand, and withal begins in loud tone : " Refrain now, ye Rutu- 
 lians, and you, ye Latins, check your darts ; whatever fortune there is, 
 is mine ; it is righteous rather for me alone in your behalf to expiate 
 the broken truce, and with the sword decide the fight." All that stood 
 between gave way, and left a space. 
 
 697 — 765. JEneas and Turnus meet in combat. The sword of Turnus 
 is shattered against the Vulcanian armour, and he is forced to flee 
 before ^Eneas. 
 But father ^Eneas, when he heard the name of Turnus, leaves the walls, 
 and leaves the height of the battlements ; and turns to headlong haste 
 all delay, cuts short all designs, exultant with delight, and in his arms 
 like dreadful thunder sounds. Great as Athos, or great as Eryx, or as he 
 himself, father Apenninus, when, towering to the sky, he resounds with 
 his quivering oaks, and rejoices in his snowy top. Now it was that with 
 all eagerness, both Rutulians and Trojans, and all the Italians turned 
 their gaze, and they who occupied the height of the fortress, and they 
 who were battering with the ram the foundations of the walls ; and from 
 their shoulders they took off their arms. Latinus himself is amazed, that 
 mighty men, born in distant quarters of the world, have met together in 
 conflict, and are contending with the sword. So they, as soon as the 
 
j XII. 765.] THE MNEID. 275 
 
 plains lie open with empty tract, when in rushing onset they have hurled 
 their lances from afar, speed to close combat with shields of clashing 
 brass. Earth yields a groan ; then with the sword they redouble blow 
 on blow; fortune and valour are blended into one. Even as when on 
 mighty Sila or the peak of Taburnus two bulls with levelled horns charge 
 on to deadly fight ; trembling the keepers flee ; dumb with dread stands 
 all the herd, and the heifers doubt who is to be lord of the forest, whom 
 the whole herd is to follow. They in turn with ponderous force give 
 wound for wound, and pushing hard drive deep their horns, and bathe 
 their necks and shoulders in a stream of blood ; with their bellowing all 
 the forest echoes: like them, Trojan ^Eneas and the Daunian hero close 
 with meeting shields; a mighty clashing o'erflows he sky. Jove himself 
 holds forth two scales with balance poised, and in them puts the opposite 
 fortunes of the two, which of them the sinking scale is to doom, with the 
 weight of which death is to incline. At this moment Turnus springs 
 forth, thinking to do it safely, and with all the force of his body rises to 
 swing his sword upraised aloft, and strikes. Aloud exclaim Trojans and 
 anxious Latins, and the armies of both are thrilled with suspense. But 
 the faithless sword snaps short, and in the very stroke forsakes the fiery 
 chief, now lost, unless flight remain to succour him. Swifter than the 
 East wind he flies, the instant he beholds a hilt he knows not, and his 
 hand disarmed. Fame tells that he, while in headlong haste he was 
 mounting his chariot equipped to begin the fray, in his hurry caught up 
 the weapon of his charioteer Metiscus. It long endured, whilst the 
 Teucri turned their backs in scattered flight : so soon as it met the god- 
 wrought armour of Vulcan, the mortal blade, like fragile ice, snapped 
 asunder at the blow ; the fragment flashes on the tawny sand. So Turnus 
 in confusion speeds his flight o'er the distant plain ; and now this way, 
 now that, he wheels in aimless rounds ; for all about the Teucri hemmed 
 him in with crowded circle ; and on this side a spreading marsh, on that 
 the lofty walls surround him. And no less ./Eneas, though his limbs, 
 made slower by the wound of the arrow, sometimes thwart him and re- 
 fuse their speed, pursues him close, and hotly presses with his stride on 
 the stride of his frighted foe; as when perchance the hunter hound has 
 surprised a stag shut in by a river, or hedged round by the terror of the 
 crimson feather, and, running and barking, plies him hard; the other, on 
 his part, panic-struck by the snare and the steep bank, doubles in various 
 flight a thousand ways ; but the nimble hound of Umbria with open 
 mouth ne'er leaves him, and now, now seizes him, and as in the act of 
 seizing, snaps his jaws, and is baffled by the empty bite. Then a loud 
 cry is raised ; and river-banks and pools repeat the echo round ; and all 
 the sky tumultuously resounds. He flies, and as he flies upbraids all the 
 Rutulians, calling on each man by name, and earnestly demands his 
 trusty sword. ^Eneas, on the other hand, threatens death and instant 
 doom, if any man approach, and scares the trembling foes, oft menacing 
 destruction to the town, and though wounded presses on. Five full 
 circles they cover in their race, and thread through as many more, this 
 way and that. And of a truth not slight nor sportive is the prize they 
 play ; but the life and blood of Turnus is their stake. 
 
 18—2 
 
276 VIRGIL. [XII. 766- 
 
 766 — 842. Faunus and Juturna aid Turnus in the fight. Juno's ap- 
 peal to Jupiter. She yields to the ordinance of fate, and is appeased 
 by the projnises of Jupiter. 
 It chanced that here had stood a wild olive with its bitter leaves, sacred 
 to Faunus, a tree by sailors once revered, where, when rescued from the 
 waves, they used to fix up their offerings to the god of Laurentum, and 
 hang their votive garments ; but the Trojans had without respect cut 
 down the hallowed stock, that they might make their charge upon an 
 open plain. Here stuck the spear of iEneas ; hither its force had borne 
 it, and kept it fixed in the tough root. The Dardan stooped to grasp it, 
 and strove by force to wrench away the steel, and follow with the javelin 
 him he could not catch by speed of foot. Then it was that Turnus, dazed 
 with fear, said: " Pity me, Faunus, I beseech thee; and thou, most gra- 
 cious Earth, keep fast the lance, if I have alway maintained thy honours, 
 which contrariwise the men of Aneas have profaned in war." He spoke, 
 and invoked the help of the god to hear no fruitless vows ; for ^Eneas, 
 though he struggled long, and persevered at the tough stock, could not by 
 any efforts unlock the hard wood's bite. While fiercely he tugs and 
 strains, the Daunian goddess, changed back into the form of the charioteer 
 Metiscus, runs forward, and restores to her brother his sword. Then 
 Venus, indignant that such power was granted to the daring Nymph, 
 drew near, and plucked away the weapon from the heart of the root. 
 They, at full height, in arms and soul repaired; the one relying on his 
 sword, the other dauntless and towering with his lance, stand face to face, 
 panting in the strife of war. Meanwhile the monarch of almighty Olym- 
 pus addresses Juno, as from a saffron cloud she views the fight : " What 
 then shall be the end, my queen? what at last remains? Thou thyself 
 knowest, and dost confess thou knowest, that ^Eneas, as a national di- 
 vinity, is owed to heaven, and by destiny wafted to the stars. What is 
 thy purpose ? or with what hope lingerest thou in the cold clouds ? Was 
 it fit that a god should be profaned by a mortal's wound? or that the 
 sword (for what power could Juturna have without thee?) when plucked 
 from Turnus should be restored to hirn, and the might of the vanquished 
 be increased? Now at length cease, and be swayed by my intreaties; 
 and be not in silence wasted by grief so deep, and from thy sweet lips let 
 thy mournful cares often flow forth to me. The final hour has come. On 
 land or on the deep thou hadst power to persecute the Trojans, to kindle 
 a fearful war, to taint a house with disgrace, and poison with woe a mar- 
 riage-feast. To venture farther I forbid thee." So spoke Jove first: thus 
 with humble look the goddess, child of Saturn, replied: " Because indeed 
 this will of thine was known to me, great Jove, I reluctantly forsook 
 Turnus and his land. Nor wouldst thou otherwise now behold me, all 
 alone in my aerial seat, suffer good and bad alike ; but girt with flames I 
 would stand even within the battle-array, and draw on the Teucri to a 
 deadly fight. I confess I inspired Juturna to succour her hapless brother, 
 and for the sake of his life sanctioned her still greater deeds of daring ; 
 but yet not that she should hurl the lance, not that she should bend the 
 bow; I swear by the inexorable source of the Stygian fount, the only 
 name of awe imposed upon the gods of heaven. And now I indeed give 
 
XII. 871.] THE s&NEID. 277 
 
 way, and with loathing leave the fight. This favour, which is withheld 
 by no ordinance of fate, I intreat of thee for the sake of Latium, for the 
 majesty of thy own people ; when presently they shall with an auspicious 
 marriage (so let it be !) confirm the peace ; when they shall form a union of 
 laws and covenants; bid not the Latins, the children of the soil, to change 
 their ancient name, nor to become Trojans, and be called Teucri ; nor 
 command the men to alter their speech, or change the fashion of their 
 dress. Let there be Latium, let there be Alban kings, through every age; 
 let there be a Roman line strong in Italian valour ; Troy has perished ; 
 let her name have perished too." To her with a smile replied the author 
 of men and things: "Thou art Jove's sister, and the child of Saturn 
 second in power ; dost thou roll within thy breast such mighty waves of 
 wrath? But come, and lower the rage thou hast in vain begun; I give 
 thee thy wish; and vanquished and willing yield myself to thee. The 
 . men of Ausonia shall keep their ancestral tongue and customs ; and as it 
 now is, their name shall be ; mixed in blood alone the Teucri shall settle 
 in the land ; I will add besides a ceremonial, and forms of sacred rites, 
 and make them all Latins of one speech. Sprung from them thou shalt 
 behold a people, which shall arise partly of Ausonian descent, surpass 
 both men and gods in piety, and no nation so faithfully as this shall cele- 
 brate thy honours." To these words Juno gave compliance, and with joy 
 reversed her design. Meanwhile she withdrew from heaven, and left the 
 cloud. 
 
 842 — 886. Jupiter prepares to withdraw Juturna from her brother. 
 Description of the Dirce, One of these is sent to give the sign of the 
 death of Turnus. Juturna acknowledges the sign, and sadly departs. 
 When this is ended, the Father resolves in his heart another purpose, 
 and prepares to withdraw Juturna from her brother's side. Dirae by 
 name are called two sister fiends, who, with Tartarean Megaera, at one 
 and the selfsame birth were born to dismal Night; she wreathed them 
 each alike with snaky coils, and gave them wings of wind. These by the 
 throne of Jove, and portal of the angry king are seen, and deepen the 
 fears of suffering men ; whenever the monarch of the gods wields dreadful 
 death and plagues, and terrifies with battle guilty towns. One of these 
 from the height of heaven Jove sends swiftly down, and bade her as an 
 omen meet Juturna. She flies along, and down to earth is borne with 
 rapid swoop : even as an arrow, driven from the string through a cloud, 
 which, armed with the venom of cruel poison, a Parthian or Cydonian has 
 shot, a shaft of point incurable, whizzing, and untraced, cleaves the fleet- 
 ing shades. So moved the child of Night, and sought the earth. When 
 she descries the host of Ilium and the troops of Turnus, in a moment 
 contracted to the shape of a little bird, which sometime perching by night 
 on tombs or desolate roofs, unwelcome sings her late song through the 
 gloom ; changed into this form, the fiend flies noisily backwards and for- 
 wards close before the face of Turnus, and lashes with her wings his 
 shield. A strange lethargy unnerved his limbs with dread, and his locks 
 stood up with horror, and his speech was choked in his throat. Then his 
 sister Juturna, so soon as she recognizes the scream and flapping wings 
 of the fiend, rends in grief her loosened hair, disfiguring with her nails 
 
278 VIRGIL. [XII. 872— 
 
 her face, and with her hands her breast : " How can your sister help you 
 now, my Turnus? or what course now is left to my cruel self? By what 
 art can I keep you in the light of life ? Can I confront so dread a mon- 
 ster? Now I leave the field. Affright me not in my fear, ill-omened 
 birds ; I know well the lashing of your wings, and your funereal scream ; 
 and am well aware of the proud commands of sovereign Jove. Is this 
 the reward he renders me for my ravished maidenhood? Wherefore gave 
 he me an everlasting life? Why is the ordinance of death reft from me? 
 else now certainly I could put an end to woes so deep, and pass through 
 the shades, by the side of my hapless brother. I immortal! nay, will any- 
 thing I possess be sweet to me without you, my brother? O that some 
 abyss of earth deep enough would yawn to receive me, and send me, 
 goddess though I be, deep down to the world of the dead!" So much 
 the goddess spoke, and with many a groan wrapped her head in her azure 
 mantle, and plunged into the depths of the river. 
 
 8&y — 952. The last effort of Turnus. He feels his powers benumbed by 
 ■ the presence of the fiend. The narrative of his death. 
 ^Eneas presses on against the foe, and brandishes the tree, his spear's 
 mighty staff, and thus he speaks with fierceness of soul: "What now is 
 your next means of delay? or why, Turnus, do you still shrink from me? 
 It is not in speed of foot, but in close fight, with biting arms, we must 
 contend. Change yourself into all shapes, and compass aught you can 
 in valour or craft ; wish on pinions to search out the starry heights, or to 
 hide yourself enclosed within the hollow earth." The other, shaking his 
 head : " Your savage words, fierce foe, affright me not ; the foes that me 
 affright are Heaven and Jove." No more he speaks ; and glancing round 
 beholds a mighty stone, a mighty stone it was and old, which chanced 
 to lie on the plain, set for a landmark of the field, to keep away conten- 
 tion from the lands. Scarcely could twelve picked men upheave it on 
 their shoulders, such human frames as earth produces now. He caught 
 it up with hurrying hand, and flung it at his foe, he, a hero, rising to his 
 height, and running hard. But neither in running, nor in his movement, 
 does he feel his proper self, or as he uplifts in his hand, and hurls the 
 ponderous stone: his knees totter; his blood is chill and curdled with 
 cold. Besides, that very crag he cast, as it whirled through the empty 
 void, passed not over all the space, and failed to reach its mark. Even 
 as in sleep, when in the night-time languid rest weighs down the eyes, 
 we seem in vain to wish to run with eagerness a distant course, and in 
 our very efforts feebly sink down ; the tongue is powerless, our usual force 
 of body serves us not, and neither words nor voice attend our will: so 
 from Turnus, by whatever brave attempt he strives to win, the fell god- 
 dess withholds success. Then various feelings work within his breast. 
 He stares at the Rutulians and the town ; and hesitates in dread, and 
 shudderingly fears that the lance is upon him ; and sees not whither he 
 can escape, nor by what means of assault he can advance against his 
 enemy, nor his car anywhere, and the charioteer, his sister. Against him 
 as he hesitates, ^Eneas waves his fatal shaft, choosing with his eye the 
 opportunity, and with all his might he flings it from afar. Never do 
 crags resound so loud, hurled forth by the battering engine, nor do claps 
 
XII. 952-] THE jENEID. 279 
 
 so great crash forth from the thunderbolt. On like a gloomy whirlwind 
 flies the lance, bearing dread doom ; and unseams the hem of the corslet, 
 and the outermost circles of the sevenfold shield; griding it passes 
 through the midst of his thigh. Beneath the blow, with doubled knee, 
 down falls the mighty Turnus to the ground. With a groan the Rutulians 
 rise, and all the mountain echoes around, and far and wide the lofty 
 groves repeat the cry. He, a humble suppliant, lifting the eyes, and 
 stretching forth the hand of prayer : " I have in truth myself deserved, 
 nor deprecate my doom : use the advantage fortune gives you : if you can 
 be touched with any feeling for a hapless parent, I beseech you (you too 
 had such a father in Anchises), pity the age of Daunus, and give me 
 back alive to my friends, or, if you please, my body reft of life. You have 
 conquered, and the Ausonians have seen me stretch forth my hands, a 
 conquered man. Lavinia is your bride. Press not to further deeds of 
 hate." ^Eneas, fierce in arms, stood still, rolling his eyes, and checked 
 his hand. And ever more and more the words began to melt him as he 
 paused ; when o'er the shoulder was unhappily seen the sword-belt, and 
 the cincture of young Pallas glittered with its well-known studs ; Pallas, 
 whom Turnus with a wound had vanquished and slain, and now wore on 
 his shoulders the ensign of his foe. The Trojan, when he had gazed his 
 fill upon those spoils, the memorials of bitter grief, fired with fury, and 
 terrible with wrath : " Shall you, clad in the spoils of my friends, be 
 snatched from me? Pallas, Pallas, with this blow makes you a sacrifice, 
 and draws his vengeance from your guilty blood." With these words, 
 full in his breast he plunges deep the steel, in the heat of wrath ; but 
 coldly droop the other's limbs, and with a sigh the affronted soul flies 
 forth beneath the shades. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 {The references are to the pages. ] 
 
 Acestes (Trojan prince in Sicily), generous, 86; 
 hospitably receives the Trojans, 143; chides 
 Entellus, 150; his arrow gives an omen, 
 152 ; one who sympathizes, 156 ; city named 
 from, 156 
 
 Achates (friend of iEneas), may represent 
 Agrippa, 79 ; attends ./Eneas, 88, 162, 268 
 
 Achilles, restored Hector's body, 92, 108 ; com- 
 bat with ./Eneas, 158; kings of, Macedonia 
 descended from, 176 
 
 ./Eneas, his character great fault of iEneid, 80; 
 his lamentation in the storm, 84 ; encourages 
 his friends, 86; meets his mother, 88 ; comes 
 to Carthage, 91 ; his grateful speech, 94 ; 
 begins the tale of his adventures, 97; sees 
 vision of Hector, 103; his useless efforts, 
 105; checked by his mother, 109; rescues 
 his father, 112; loses his wife, 112; goes to 
 Delos, 115 ; to Crete, 116; to the Strophades, 
 118; to Buthrotum, 119; coasts along Italy 
 to Sicily, 124 ; coasts along Sicily, 127 ; 
 Dido's love for, 128 ; pleads the command of • 
 Jove, 134; leaves Carthage, 139; received 
 by Acestes, 143 ; celebrates games, 143 ; 
 prays to Jove for rain, 155 ; sees his father in 
 a dream, 156; lands at Cumse, 159; consults 
 the Sibyl, 160 ; finds golden bough, 163 ; de- 
 scends to the lower regions, 164 ; reaches 
 Elysium, 172 ; hears from his father the doc- 
 trines of philosophy, 174; sees in a mystic 
 valley the future heroes of Rome, 175; enters 
 the mouth of the Tiber, 178 ; fortifies his 
 camp, 181 ; sends gift to Latinus, 181 ; sees 
 vision of the river-god, 195 ; visits Evander, 
 197 ; receives celestial arms, 206 ; sails over 
 the sea with Etruscan troops, 227 ; sea- 
 nymphs appear to, 229 ; slays many men, 
 231 ; grief at death of Pallas, 235 ; slays 
 Lausus, 240 ; Mezentius, 242 ; gracious reply 
 to Latins, 245; praised by Diomede, 248; 
 advances to the city, 251 ; pitches his camp, 
 260; field prepared for his combat with 
 Turnus, 263 ; his prayer, 264 ; is wounded, 
 267 ; is miraculously healed, 269 ; his deeds 
 of valour, 271 ; threatens to burn the city, 
 272 ; his combat with Turnus, 275 ; his vic- 
 tory, 279. 
 
 iEneid. the imperial poem, 78 ; truly Roman 
 poem, 78 ; hence faults and merits, 79 ; in 
 what sense a religious poem, 79 ; speaks to 
 the heart, 81 ; compared with Iliad, 80 ; has 
 many faults, 81 ; chiefly the character of 
 vEneas, 80 ; compared with Georgics, 81 
 
 iEolus (god of winds), his cavern, 83 ; Juno 
 (goddess of air) begs help of, 83 ; Neptune 
 bids him bluster at home, 85 ; storm of, 158 ; 
 island (Lipare) named from, 202 
 
 Agrigentum (Girgenti), its giant walls, 127 
 Agrippa, perhaps represented by Achates, 79; 
 
 his figure on the shield, 207 
 Alba Longa, fathers of, 82 ; founded by lulus, 
 
 87 ; kings of, 87, 175 ; origin of name (white), 
 
 121 
 Alecto (fury), summoned by Juno, 184 ; fills the 
 
 queen with frenzy, 185 ; enrages Turnus, 
 
 187 ; rustics, 188 ; returns to lower world, 
 
 189 
 Alphesibceus sings of charms, 25, 26 
 Alternate couplets, 16, 17, 23, 24 
 Amata, her frenzy, 185 ; her love for Turnus, 
 
 262 ; her suicide, 272 
 Anchises, struck by lightning, no ; encouraged 
 
 by sign, in; is carried by his son, 112; 
 
 mistakes oracle, 116; is better advised, 117; 
 
 his prayer, 119; dies at Drepanum, 127; his 
 
 troubled phantom, 135; a seer, 143; his 
 
 familiar spirit, 144; appears in vision, 156; 
 
 meets his son in Elysium, 173; Evander 
 
 remembers him, 197; his memory recalled, 
 
 279 
 
 Ancus, king of Rome, somewhat boastful, 176 
 
 Andromache, her affectionate sorrows, 120; sad 
 parting, 123 
 
 Anna, encourages Dido's love, 128; her en- 
 treaties, 137; is deceived by her sister, 138; 
 her misery, 14X 
 
 Antenor, founder of Padua, 87 
 
 Antony, perhaps represented by Turnus, 79 ; 
 his figure on the shield, 207 
 
 Apollo (Phoebus), warns the poet, 21 ; visits 
 Gallus, 28; of Thymbra, 72, 115; archer 
 god, 115 ; bids Trojans seek their ancient 
 mother, 116; sailor's dread, 119; of Claros, 
 121; pitied Troy, 160; shrine and holydays 
 of, 161 ; keeps promise to the ear, 166 ; 
 Actian, 208 ; snow-white portal of, 208 ; 
 praises lulus, 221 ; of Soracte, 258 ; his 
 various gifts, 268 
 
 Arethusa (fountain and nymph), glides under 
 the sea, 28, 127 
 
 Aristseus, story of, 72 
 
 Ascanius, see lulus. 
 
 Atlas (sage and mountain), his lore, 97 ; de- 
 scription of mountain, 133 ; bearer of the 
 
 sky, 175 . 
 
 Augury, happy omen from, 90 ; interpretation 
 of, 266 ; Apollo, giver of, 268 
 
 Augustus, his insipid character, 80 ; had not a 
 court like a modern one, 80 ; character a mis- 
 fortune to iEneid, 80 ; about to rise to 
 heaven, 33 ; his fame, 55 ; his happy age, 
 88 ; celebrated Actian games, 78, and game 
 of Troy, 79 ; his glory at Actium, 207 ; tri- 
 umph at Actium, 79, 208; exaggerated 
 praises of, 175 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Aurora (morning\ pale, 41; blushing, 124; 
 
 early, 125; bright, 143; unclouded, 144; 
 
 rosy, 170; saffron, 178; brings ^back toil, 
 
 246 ; borne upon crimson wheels, 262 
 Avernus (lake:, channels of, 46 ; its woods, 122 ; 
 
 noisome, 163; according to Virgil derived 
 
 from Greek dopvos (birdless), 164 
 
 B. 
 
 Bacchus, wild dances of, 20 ; his buskins, 43 J 
 goat sacrificed to, 50 ; his hymns and masks, 
 50 ; cause of offence, 52 ; his orgies, 76, 134,^ 
 186; dances and cups, 257; of Naxos, 116;* 
 his travels, 175 ; of Nysa, 175 
 
 Bees, emblem of toil, 31 ; easily offended, 66 ; 
 active in spring, 66 ; their swarming, 66 * 
 their battles, 67 ; their flower-garden, 67, 68 ; 
 their republic, 68, 69 ; compared to Cyclops, 
 69; shjrtness of individual life, eternity of 
 race, 69, 70 ; loyal creatures, 70 ; their 
 natural enemies, 70 ; sickness and remedies, 
 71; method of renewal of their race, 71; 
 simile of, 91 ; another simile of, 173 
 
 Bough, golden, 162, 163; Charon recognizes it, 
 167 ; is deposited at Pluto's palace, 172 
 
 Britons, separate from the world, 8, 13 ; woven 
 in tapestry, 54 
 
 Brutus, stern patriot, 176 
 
 Bulls, fierce are the battles of, 59 ; rivers re- 
 presented as, 73, 166 
 
 Byrsa, Carthage citadel of, 89 ; wrong deriva- 
 tion of name, 89 
 
 Cacus (robber), story of, 198, 199 
 
 Cseculus found on the hearth, 176 
 
 Csesar, Julius, represented by Daphnis, 10, 19; 
 his murder, 42 ; his descent from the Alps, 176 
 
 Camilla, warrior maiden, 194; her generous 
 offer, 252; the story of her childhood, 253, 
 254; her exploits, 256; her death, 258, 259; 
 is avenged by Opis, 259 
 
 Camillus bringing back the standards, 176 
 
 Capitol, passage of triumph up to, 176; supposed 
 abode of Jove, 201; immoveable, 217 
 
 Carinse, street in Rome, sumptuous, 201 
 
 Carthage, dear to Juno, 82 _; newly founded, 88, 
 89 ; building of, 90 ; its harbour, temple, 
 theatre, 91 ; character of people, 91, 95 ; 
 future foe of Rome, 140 ; simile of its de- 
 struction, 141 ; war with Rome, 224 ; ironical 
 mention of, 225 
 
 Cassandra, warns in vain, 102 ; loved by Coroe- 
 bus, 104 ; dragged from temple, 105 ; not 
 listened to, 117; phantom of, 154; ravings of, 
 226 
 
 Catiline, his punishment, 207 
 
 Cato, censor, 176; ofUtica, 207 
 
 Cattle should be chosen carefully for breeding, 
 55 ; gently to be cared for, 57 
 
 Cerberus charmed by the song of Orpheus, 75 ; 
 by honey cake, 168 
 
 Ceres sustains life, 32 ; yellow, 34 ; teacher of 
 men, 35; poppy dear to, 37 ; golden, 38 ; to 
 be adored by husbandmen, 39; lawgiver, 129 
 
 Charon, grotesque description of, 165; awed by 
 
 golden bough, 167 
 Charybdis, description of, 122 ; dreaded, 124; 
 
 instrument of Juno, 184 
 Circe, power of, 26 ; her groves and lights and 
 
 magical powers, 178 
 Cleopatra perhaps represented by Dido, 79; 
 
 her figure on the shield, 207, 208 
 Client, fraud against, punished hereafter, 171 
 Codes, in Ennuis' annals, 79 ; defends bridge, 
 
 207 ; Turnus represents him, 224 
 Corinth, triumph over, 176 
 Corydon, his desperate love, 13, 14; matched 
 
 with Thyrsis, 23 ; victorious, 24 
 Crete, Jove's isle, 116; Trojans settle in it, 116; 
 
 pestilence there, 116; Labyrinth in it, 153; 
 
 represented in sculpture, 160 
 Creusa lost to her husband, 112; her phantom, 
 
 "3 
 Cybele, mother of the gods, her mysteries, 116; 
 
 her crown and family, 175 ; her promise from 
 
 Jove, 210 : her awful appearance, 210 ; her 
 
 showy priest Chloreus, 258 
 Cyclades, voyage through, 116 
 Cyclops, bees compared to, 69; a hundred 
 
 monstrous, 126; forges of, 202 
 Cyrene (nymph), sorrow for, and aid to her son, 
 
 72, 73i 74 
 
 D. 
 
 Damcetas, his quarrel and singing match with 
 Menalcas, 15, 16, 17 
 
 Damon, his complaint, 25 
 
 Dante, his relation to Virgil, 6 
 
 Daphnis represents Julius Caesar, 10 ; ideal 
 shepherd, 19 ; his apotheosis, 20 ; patron of 
 rural life, 20 
 
 Dardanus, sprang from Italy, 117, 182; com- 
 mon origin to people of Epirus and Italy, 
 123 ; founder of Troy, J72 ; descended from 
 Atlas, 197 
 
 Dares, a braggart, 149 ; beaten by Entellus, 
 
 Death, inexorable, 55; sickness drawing on to, 
 64 ; no room for, 70 ; in many a shape, 105 ; 
 to be found with one's own hand, no; inter- 
 est of, 136 ; prayed for, 137; approach of, 141 : 
 undeserved, 162 ; even after it, woes remain 
 hereafter, 168; image of, 170; lingering, 
 204; Cleopatra pallid at approach of, 208; 
 tranquil, 217 ; father living by a son's, 241 ; 
 happy in, 246 ; expiates anger of Heaven, 
 251 ; description of, 259 ; not so passing hard, 
 273 ; bitterness of, 274 
 Decii, glory of Italy, 46, 176 
 Defile, description of, 189 
 Deiphobus, cruel murder of, 169, 170 
 Delos, Latona's isle, 54; once floating, 115: 
 temple there, 115; Trojans visit it, 115; the 
 dances of Apollo in, 131 
 Destiny, see Fate. , 
 
 Diana, simile of, 92; of triple countenance, 138; 
 her care of Hippofytus, 193 ; tells the taie of 
 Camilla's childhood, and dedication of her- 
 self, 253, 254; predicts her death and bids 
 Opis avenge her, 253, 254 
 
2%2 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Didactic poets, Virgil prince of, 30; modern 
 rather follow Horace, 31 
 
 Dido may represent Cleopatra, 79 ; her sorrow 
 at Tyre, 89 ; founds Carthage, 89 ; her reti- 
 nae and fair form, 92 ; her modest speech, 93 ; 
 her passion, 96, 128 ; her hunting-party, 130, 
 131; her reproaches, 135; her despair, 137; 
 her funeral pile, 138; her death, 141, 142; 
 flames of funeral pile, 142 ; her phantom in 
 the mourning fields, 168 
 
 Diomede, -/Eneas' combat with, 84; his testi- 
 mony to ./Eneas, 248 
 
 Dogs useful to husbandmen, 62 
 
 Donatus (so called), his life of Virgil, 1; appears 
 to be true in the main, 2 
 
 Drances may represent Cicero, 79 ; embassy to 
 ./Eneas, 245 ; his character, 249 ; his speech 
 against Turnus, 250; his taunts shame Tur- 
 nus, 273 
 
 Dreams of Dido about her husband, 89; of 
 ./Eneas about Hector, 103 ; of Dido about her 
 loneliness, 137; of ./Eneas about his father, 
 156; true and false, 177; of wondrous phan- 
 toms, 179; of ./Eneas about the river-god 
 Tiber, 195 ; simile of, 278 
 
 Dryden, quoted, 1, 4, 7, 8, 80; mentions the 
 Sortes Virgilianse, 4 
 
 E. 
 
 East wind (Eurus), its fury, 45 ; Riphsean, 61 ; 
 horses of, 106 ; swifter than, 199, 275 
 
 Eclogues of Virgil, artificial, 9 ; contrast with 
 the Idylls of Theocritus, 9 ; disregard of con- 
 sistency in, 9 ; comparison of the 4th with 
 Isaiah. 10 ; beauty of the 5th, 10 ; their faults 
 and merits, n ; imitation of them by later 
 poets, 11 ; superiority of them to most modern 
 pastoral poetry, 11 
 
 Elissa, Phoenician name of Dido, 135 
 
 Elysian fields, description of, 172 
 
 Ennius, his Annals, a national poem, 79 
 
 Epicurus, his tenets, 1; his account of the crea- 
 tion of the world adopted, 10, 22 ; his philo- 
 sophy, 40, 52; life of ease, 52, 53 
 
 Etruria, brave, 53; righteous wrath of, 204; 
 their camp, 206; their captains and troops, 
 228 ; their cavalry, 254 ; taunts against their 
 luxury, 257 
 
 Euryalus, his merit and beauty, 148, 149; his 
 race, 149; episode of, 212; his death, 217; 
 lamentation of his mother, 218 
 
 Eurydice all but recovered, 75 
 
 Evander, ./Eneas visits him, 197 ; his worship 
 of Hercules, 200; his honourable poverty, 
 201; makes Etruscans allies of Trojans, 203; 
 his sad farewell to his son, 205 ; his lamenta- 
 tion for his slain son, 246 
 
 F. 
 
 Fabius restores state by delay, 176 
 
 Fabricius, rich in scanty store, 176 
 
 Fate, its steadfast will, 18; ./Eneid, epic of, 
 79, 80; things grow worse by its rule, 36; 
 Jupiter unrolls its hidden book, 91 ; will find 
 its way, 121; Juno inferior to, 184; nought 
 can change, 184; may however be delayed, 
 
 184, 237; willing follower of, 197; its will, 
 204; smiled upon by, 204; fates counter to 
 fates, 184, 211; Jupiter may perhaps con- 
 trol, 237; free by, 227; summon men, 236; 
 give a home and kingdom, 245 ; walls allowed 
 by, 245; permit men to deceive, 256; ex- 
 pounded to the timorous, 263; intend pre- 
 sent war, future peace, 270; prevail, 274 
 
 Fauns, invoked, 32 ; aboriginal, 200 
 
 Faunus, son of Picus, his oracle, 179; glorious 
 race of, 182; aids Turnus in the fight, 276 
 
 Feast on African shore, 86; at Carthage, 96, 
 97; in an isle of the Strophades, 118; in 
 palace of Helenus, 121; on coast of Italy, 
 180; Etruscan, 257 
 
 Feelings, kindly inspired by Mercury, 88 ; 
 change of, to joy, 158 
 
 Forest, hardy and useful trees of, various 
 in kind, 51, 52; fire in, 49; ./Eneas meets his 
 mother^ in, 88; description of, 163; mystic 
 bough in, 163; fiend lurks in, 188; on banks 
 of Tiber, 196; of wide extent, 216; trees cut 
 down in, 245 
 
 Forum, Roman (campo Vaccino), cattle lowing 
 in, 201 
 
 Funeral, description of, 163, 164, 246, 247; 
 anniversary of, 143 
 
 Furies, Envy dreads, 54; charmed by Orpheus, 
 75; of a guilty race, 120; seen by Pentheus 
 and Orestes, 137; iron chambers of, 165; 
 grim stream of, 167; the eldest of, 171; 
 dreadful appearance of one, 187; glance of, 
 207; fell, 208; under name of Dirae, 277; 
 Tisiphone, 65; Alecto, 184; Megsera, 277 
 
 Gallus, friend of Virgil, 1 ; joined with the nine 
 Muses, 1 ; praises of him by Virgil lost, 1 ; 
 his death, 1 ; love for Lycoris, 28 ; comforted 
 by men and gods, 28; his passionate com- 
 plaint, 29 
 
 Games, (1) boat-race, 145; (2) foot-race, 148; 
 (3) boxing-match, 149; (4) archery, 152; 
 (5) game of Troy, 153 
 
 Garden, useful to bees, 68 ; description of one 
 near Tarentum, 68 
 
 Georgics, unlike Hesiod's Works and Days, 30 ; 
 not much indebted to Aratus and Nicander, 
 30 ; contrast of them with Lucretius' poem, 
 30; not much imitated by modern poets, 31 ; 
 begun, b. c. 37, 31 ; not a practical work, 31 ; 
 melancholy tone in them, 31 ; the most finish- 
 ed of Virgil's writings, 32 ; unreality in them, 
 32; sympathy with nature in them, 32; 
 contrasted with ./Eneid, 81 
 
 Ghost of Creusa, 113; restless, appeased, 115 
 
 Glory, sudden revelations of, 90, 94, 109, 111, 
 117, 155, 221 
 
 Goats, enemies of Bacchus, 50; a hardy and 
 valuable flock, 60 
 
 Gods, of the country invoked, 32, 33 ; of our 
 land, 42 ; those of the iEneid compared with 
 the Iliad, 80 ; the constraint of, 82 ; regard 
 the benevolent, 94 ; rulers stand fast by, 
 104; arbitrary will of, 106 ; watch evil deeds, 
 108 ; fighting against Troy, no; invited to a 
 share of spoil, 118; lords of sea, 124; guar- 
 
INDEX. 283 
 
 diansof a dying queen, 140; invoked in boat- 
 race, 147; possess realm of spirits, 164; 
 fear to perjure themselves by the Styx, 166; 
 vengeance belongs to, 170; bless men's pur- 
 pose, 183 ; his own strong passion to each 
 man as one, 212 ; pity man's vain fury, 239 ; 
 altars too common, 263 
 Golden age, description of, 18; encouraged 
 idleness, 35 ; to be established by Augustus, 
 
 *75 
 Gossrau, his commentary on the ^Eneid, 7 
 
 H. 
 
 Hannibal, great enemy of Rome, 140 ; passage 
 of the Alps by, 224 
 
 Harbour, land-locked, 85; another, 124; Tiber 
 gives one to the Trojans, 178 
 
 Hatred, unrelenting, 81 
 
 Hector, picture of, 92; vision of, 103 ; his 
 mother's thought of, 108; his grave, 149; 
 kept Greeks at bay, 211; compared to JE- 
 neas, 248 
 
 Heinsius, his noble edition of Virgil, 7 
 
 Helenus, king in Epirus, 120; encertains JE- 
 neas, 121; reveals the fates, 121, 122; his 
 gifts, 123 
 
 Hercules, poplar sacred to, 24; boxing-match 
 with Eryx, 150; dress of, 191; punishes 
 Cacus, 199 ; worship and praises of, 200 ; 
 intercedes in vain for the life of Pallas, 234 
 
 Hesiod, practical writer, not imaginative, 30 
 
 Heyne gives an account of editions of Virgil, 7 
 
 Hive, where it should stand, and with what 
 plants near it, 65, 66; construction of, 66; 
 how bees to be re-called to, 6j 
 
 Honey, how and when to be taken, 70 
 
 Horace, friend of Virgil, 1 ; mentions Virgil 
 nine times, 2 ; Lord Lytton's remark on, 8 ; 
 usual model of modern didactic poetry, 31 
 
 Horses, shape, colour, age, to be observed, 55 ; 
 famous ones, 55 ; to be well fattened, 56 ; 
 gadfly to be kept from, 57 ; should be treated 
 kindly, 57; swift as the wind, 58; at times 
 full of fury, 59 ; sad death of one in the 
 plague, 64; omen from, of war, and yet of 
 peace, 124; in the game of Troy, 153; of 
 heavenly breed, 183; one that had sympathy 
 for his master, 241 ; simile of, 252 
 
 Hunt, description of, 131 ; in the Italian wood, 
 188 
 
 Husbandman, has many enemies, 35 ; taught 
 by Ceres, 35 ; should be grateful to her, 39 ; 
 needs many implements, 35 ; must watch the 
 heavenly bodies, 36 ; can trust nature, 37 ; 
 should not neglect religion, 39, nor the signs 
 of change of weather, 40, nor the warnings 
 of sun and moon, 41 ; finds in the fields sad 
 records of war, 42 ; happiness of his life, 52 
 
 Iarbas (African prince), slighted by Dido, 129; 
 his jealous prayer to Jove, 132 
 
 Ida, leafy, 147 ; lofty, 151 ; pine forest on, 210; 
 choir of, 210; hunter's hill, 212; representa- 
 tion of, 227 ; the queen of (Cybele), 229 ; 
 
 dittany from Cretan, 269 ; Lyrnessus be- 
 neath, 271 
 
 Ilioneus, spokesman of Trojan, 93, 182 
 
 Ilium (see also Troy), home of gods, 102 ; its 
 glory gone, 104; sinks in fUmes, no; stood 
 against divine pleasure, 160 
 
 Infants, their piteous woe in Hades, 168 
 
 Iris, her various hues, 142; severs the lock of 
 life, 142 ; in human form addresses Trojan 
 matrons, 154; sent to Turnus, 208; glory of 
 the sk}', 209 ; forbids help to Turnus, 224 ; 
 sent from the clouds, 226 
 
 Irony, instances of, 108, 135, 140, 187, 221, 236, 
 250, 278 
 
 Italy, praises of, 45; Virgil describes scenery 
 of, 81 ; whence named, 93 ; called Hesperia 
 mighty and rich, 93, 117; destined to Trojans, 
 lx 7> x 35> 2I 6; nearer part occupied by 
 Greeks, 122 ; low coast of, saluted, 124 ; Tro- 
 jans coast along, 124; big with empire, 132; 
 descendants of line of, 174; is excited, 190; 
 its ancient tribes, 191 ; hardihood of its race, 
 220 ; daughters of, 256 ; not bidden to obey 
 Trojans, 264; valour of, strength of Rome, 
 277 
 
 lulus (Ascanius), once Ilus, 87; gives name to 
 Julian house, 89; Cupid takes his form, 96: 
 follows his father, 112; reminds Andromache 
 of Astyanax, 123; a keen sportsman, 131, 
 188; a captain in the game of Troy, 153; 
 upbraids Trojan matrons, 155; his playful 
 remark, 180; shoots Sylvia's deer, 188; has 
 a soul beyond his years, 214; slays a vain 
 boaster, 221 ; is praised by Apollo, 221 ; 
 second hope of Rome, 264; stimulated by 
 the example of his father and uncle, 269 
 
 Ivory, gate of, 177; India produces n 33 ; weeps, 
 42; in art, 94, 172, 243, 262 
 
 J- 
 
 Janus, prophecy of his gates being closed, 88 ; 
 with double forehead, 181; guardian, 190; 
 gates opened by Juno, 190 ; citadel of, 201 
 Jesuits, their schools, 8; learned French, 7 
 Juno, her contest with fate, 80 ; causes of" her 
 anger, 82; stirs up a mighty tempest, 83; 
 ■will one day favour Rome, 88; occupies 
 Scaean gates, no; to be conquered by vows, 
 122 ; guardian of marriage ties, 129; conver- 
 sation with Venus, 130; pities Dido, 142; 
 stirs up Trojan matrons, 154; her rage 
 against ^Eneas, 184; calls up Alecto, 184; 
 opens gates of war, 190 ; sends Iris to Turnus, 
 20S ; does not dare to help Turnus, 224; in- 
 veighs against Venus, 226; is taunted by 
 Jove, 236 ; but rescues Turnus, 237 ; impels 
 Juturna to break the truce, 263, 264;. her 
 appeal to Jove, 276; yields at last to fate, 
 
 Jupiter, appoints toil to be the lot of man, 35 ; 
 his thunderbolt, 39; to be feared by grapes, 
 51; fed by bees, 68; unrolls the fat^s, 87; 
 stirs up gods against Troy, no; Anchises 
 prays to him, in; Iarbas prays to him, 132 ; 
 warrant of his word, 142 ; his armour-bearer, 
 147; sends a great rain, 156; thunders in a 
 cloudless sky, 180; shakes his aegis, 20T ; 
 
284 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Evander prays to, 205 ; convokes council of 
 gods, 224 ; declares fates inviolable, 226 ; his 
 nod, 227; declares limits of life and virtue, 
 234; his conversation with Juno, 236, 237; 
 bids Juno yield, 276; predicts the piety of 
 the Romans, 277; sends a fiend down, 277; 
 the enemy of Turnus, 278 
 Juturna, nymph-sister of Turnus, in the form 
 of Gamers urges the breaking of the truce, 
 265; prevents JEneas from engaging with 
 Turnus, 269, 270 ; in the form of Metiscus 
 encourages Turnus, 273; still aids Turnus, 
 276 ; is at last forced to leave him, 277 ; her 
 sad complaint, 2 78 
 
 K. 
 
 Keightley, 1, 7 
 
 Kings, two rival, in one hive, 67 ; reverence for, 
 among bees, Parthians, and other people, 70; 
 shall reign for 300 years in Alba, 87 ; a just, 
 pious, brave king, 93 ; Anius king and priest 
 at once, 115; succession of kings of Rome, 
 175, 176 
 
 Labour, its praises in the Georgics, 31 ; bees 
 the emblem of, 31 ; Jove's rule ordained it, 
 35 ; is victorious in difficulties, 35 ; needed in 
 little things, 36 ; summer the special time for, 
 38; yet no season unsuitable, 38; needed 
 in dressing the vine, 50 
 
 Labyrinth, puzzling bower, 153 ; famous be- 
 wilderment, 160 
 
 Lakes of Italy, Larius (Como), Benacus rising 
 with boisterous turmoil (Garda), Lucrinewith 
 barrier, 46 ; living, 52 : A vermis, 46, 163, 164 ; 
 sacred to Trivia, 188; Ciminus, 192; An- 
 guitia, Fucinus with glassy pool, 193 ; Stygi- 
 an, 20 
 
 Laocoon, his wise advice, 98 ; his dreadful 
 death, 101 
 
 Laomedon, faithless, 42; true children of, 119; 
 treachery of race of, 139 
 
 Latinus, his descent, respect for religion, 179 ; 
 kindly speech and gifts to the strangers, 183 ; 
 passive resistance, 189; convokes council, 
 247; advises moderation, 249; his fruitless 
 intreaties to Turnus, 261 ; his solemn vows 
 and prayer, 264, 265 ; rends his garments, 
 273 , his amazement, 274 
 
 Latium, race of, 82 ; hardy youth of, 181 ; why 
 so called, 201 ; defeat of cavalry of, 259 ; 
 Jove intreated for the sake of, 277 ; is not 
 to be merged in the Trojans, 277 
 
 Lausus, contrast to his father, 191 ; fates for- 
 bid his engaging with Pallas, 233 ; episode 
 of, 240; saves his father by his own death, 
 240 
 
 Lavinia, only child of Latinus, 179 ; promised to 
 the stranger, 183 ; her mother's anger there- 
 at, 185; becomes a bacchant, 186; is a sup- 
 pliant at the temple of Minerva, 252 ; her 
 modest beauty, 262 ; bewails her mother's 
 death, 272 
 
 Lethe, poppies steeped in, 34, 159; description 
 of, i73» 174 
 
 Love, hopeless, 13 ; frenzied, 29 ; conquers ail 
 the world, 29 ; drives all nature to fury, 58 ; 
 god of, scorns the thunderbolt, 95 ; takes form 
 of lulus, 96 ; deep draughts of, 97 ; cannot 
 be cured by sacrifices, 129; pride surrenders 
 to, 136; restless, 138; its wasting power, 
 168 
 
 Lucretius, earnest writer, 30 ; followed by Vir- 
 gil, 10, 22, 31, 64, 278 
 
 Lycidas, wonders at what Mceris tells him, 27 ; 
 begs Mceris to sing, 27, 28 
 
 M; 
 
 Maecenas, dedications to him, 32, 43, 54, 65 
 
 Mceris, tells how poetry is powerless, 27; re- 
 peats verses of Menalcas, 27 ; his memory 
 fails him, 28 
 
 Manlius, guard of Tarpeian rock, 207 
 
 Mantua, Virgil's property near, 1 ; sacred tree 
 at, 5 ; scenery of, 9 ; too near to Cremona, 
 27 ; hapless, 46 ; whence named, 228 ; the 
 races of, 228. 
 
 Marcellus, praises of the two, a lament for the 
 younger' s early death, 176, 177 
 
 Mars of civil strife, 42 ; chariot of, 55 ; father 
 of Romulus, 87 ; walls of, 87 ; Thrace sacred 
 to, 114; Gradivus, 114; the dread of, 190; 
 car and wheels made for, by the Cyclops, 
 203 ; wolf of, 219; lord of war, 222 ; governs 
 all wars, 264 ; his river, shield, steeds, dread- 
 ful retinue, 267 
 
 Melancholy tone of Georgics, 31, 36, 55 
 
 Melibceus, forced to leave his farm, 12; con- 
 gratulates Tityrus, 13; adjudges prize to 
 Corydon, 24 
 
 Menalcas put for Virgil, 10; has lost his farm, 
 10, 27 ; his contest with Damcetas, 15, 16, 17 ; 
 praised by Mopsus, 21 ; songs by him, 27 ; 
 his return looked for, 28 
 
 Mercury, fiery planet, 39 ; inspires kindly feel- 
 ings, 88; his flight to earth, 133; bids ^Eneas 
 quit Carthage, 133 ; warns him in a dream, 
 139 ; son of Maia, forefather of Evander, 197 
 
 Messapus bears a charmed life, his troops, 192 ; 
 foremost chief, 194; captain of cavalry, 252 ; 
 attacks ^Eneas, 270 ; with Atinas rallies the 
 host, 274 
 
 Mezentius, despiser of gods, 191 ; his monstrous 
 cruelty^ 204 ; his exploits, 238, 239 ; his own 
 hand his god, 240 ; saved by his good son, 
 240; lamentation over his son, 241; his 
 death, 242 ; spoils of, 243 
 
 Mincius river with waving rushes, 23; its wind- 
 ing course, 54 ; child of lake Benacus, 228 
 
 Minerva (Pallas), loves citadels. 17; inventress 
 of olive, 32; hurls Jove's lightning, 83 ; her 
 skill built wooden horse, 97 ; her fateful 
 Palladium, 100 ; her statue animated with 
 temporary life, 101 ; cruel Tritonis, 102 ; 
 gleams with Gorgon, no; clashes arms, 124; 
 work of the loom her art, 148 ; her armour, 
 203 ; theft of her Palladium, 211 ; the storm 
 which she sent, 248 ; procession to her tem- 
 ple, 252 
 
 Minos, Roman praetor, 79; his realm (Crete), 
 159 ; shakes the judicial urn, 168 
 
 Mnestheus, house of, Memmius derived from, 
 
INDEX. 
 
 285 
 
 144; his address to his crew, 176; repulses 
 
 Turnus, 224 
 Mopsus praised by Menalcas, 20 
 Mourning Fields, abode of those crossed in 
 
 love, 163 
 Muse, invocation of, 18, 82, 178, 191, 228 ; set 
 
 forth Jove as the beginning, 16 ; brought back 
 
 by Virgil, 54 ; Cretheus, mate of, 223 
 Mythological subjects trite, 54 
 
 N. 
 
 Nautes,. his sage counsel, 156 
 
 Neptune, produced the first horse, 32 ; his mon- 
 strous herds, 73; his serene majesty, 84; 
 calms storm, 85 ; destroys the walls of Troy, 
 109; god of iEgean, 115; bull sacrificed to, 
 116 ; promises safety to Trojan fleet, 158 ; his 
 horses, car and retinue, 158 ; fills sails with 
 favouring winds, 178 ; on the side of Augus- 
 tus at Actium, 208; Troy built by, 158, 211 
 
 Niebuhr, accounts Virgil useful to the anti- 
 quarian, 4; unfavourable judge of iEneid, 3, 
 78 
 
 Night, fatal to Troy, 102 ; calm, 124 ; gloomy, 
 125; silent, 138; bright, 178; goddess _ in- 
 voked, 180 ; deception of, 216; ends mourning, 
 247 ; her dire progeny, 277 
 
 Nile, whose stream flows proudly, 54; over- 
 flowing, 71 ; sevenfold in tumult of terror, 
 175 ; calling vanquished to his dark-blue lap, 
 208 ; ebbing with fertilizing waters, 209 
 
 Nisus, his love for Euryalus, 148 ; through him 
 his friend wins the race, 149 ; episode of him 
 and Euryalus, 212 ; his generous conduct, 
 212, 213; his exploits, 215; avenges his friend 
 and dies, 217 
 
 North wind (Aquilo, Boreas), cold of, little 
 recked of, 24; penetrating, 34; grim, 40; 
 steady, 58 ; mares run towards, 59 ; sent to 
 aid of mariners, 127 ; Alpine, 137 ; Thracians 
 descended from, 231; roaring across the 
 JEgean deep, 268 
 
 Numa, his peaceful reign, 175 
 
 Nymphs, easy- tempered, 15 ; wept for Daphnis, 
 19; Dictaean, 22; beloved by shepherds, 23; 
 throng of, 29 ; sister-nymphs, 52 ; names and 
 occupation of, 72 ; sisterhood of, 73 ; revere 
 Proteus, 73 ; grotto home of, 85 ; one of the 
 race of, 89; worshipped, 114; cry aloud on 
 mountain-top, 131 ; retinue of Neptune, 158 ; 
 prayed to, 180 ; Egeria one of them, 193 ; from 
 whom rivers take birth, 196 ; Carmentis one 
 of them, 201; ships transformed into, 211; 
 appear to iEneas out at sea, 229 
 
 O. 
 
 Olives, invented by Minerva, 32; what soil 
 fruitful in, 47 ; easily reared, 51 ; dear to 
 peace, 51, 197 
 
 Omens, from blasted oaks, 12 ; from the crow 
 on the left-hand, 27; from fire, in; from 
 Dido's funeral pile, 142 ; from Acestes' arrow, 
 152; from playful word, 180; religious soul 
 stirred by, 183 ; comfort from, 229 ; from first 
 success, 231 ; though deceitful hailed with 
 shouts, 266 
 
 Oracles, oaks revered, as by Greece, 43 ; terri- 
 ble response of that of Apollo, 99; that at 
 Delos ambiguous, 115; that of Faunus be- 
 neath Albunea, 179; holy ones of heaven, 
 197 
 
 Orion, stormy, 93; his belt and sword, 124; 
 watery, 129; fierce setting of, 192; in the 
 seas and on the hills, 239 
 
 Orpheus, his descent and sad death, 75, 76 ; holy 
 bard in Elysium, 172 
 
 Padus (Eridanus, Po), monarch of rivers, 42; 
 
 with horns gilded, 73 
 Palsemon, a judge who cannot decide, 16, 17 
 Palinurus (pilot), loses his course, 118; waits 
 for clear sky, 124; yields to foul weather, 
 142 ; beguiled by the god Sleep, 159 ; his 
 death, 159; his sorrows in Hades, 166; his 
 partial consolation, 167 
 
 Pallas, see Minerva. 
 
 Pallas (son of Evander), meets ^Eneas, 196 ; 
 Evander's farewell to, 205 ; compared to 
 morning star, 206 ; sits by iEneas in the ship, 
 227; his courage, 232; Hercules intercedes 
 for, 234; his death, 234; honour to his dead 
 body, 244 ; his father's lamentation for, 246 
 
 Pan, his art and office, 14; would allow himself 
 vanquished, 19 ; Arcadia's god, 28 ; would 
 not suffer reeds to rest idle, 25; Lord of 
 Tegea, 32; gift to the Moon, 62; Lupercal 
 called from Lycseum, 201 
 
 Parthians, famed for bow, 29 ; whose trust is in 
 flight, 54; their reverence for their kings, 
 70; begin with arrows the prelude of the 
 fray, 72 ; restore Roman standards, 190 ; 
 shoot arrows armed with poison, 277 
 
 Penates (household gods), hapless, 53 ; carried 
 by JEneas over the sea, 90; Hector com- 
 mends them to him, 103 ; embraced by bay 
 tree, 108 ; must not be touched by bloody 
 hands, 112; appear in a nightly vision, 117; 
 sprinkled with blood, 128 ; invited to a feast, 
 143; in vain rescued, 154; faithful bid to 
 hail, 180; vanquished, 194; objects of adju- 
 ration, 213 
 
 Personification, of Envy, 54 ; of Honour, 88 ; 
 of unnatural Fury, 88 ; of Fame, 131 ; of 
 Grief, Fear, Hunger, Death, Toil, Sleep, bad 
 Delights, War, 165; of Discord, 208; of 
 Dread, Anger, Ambush, 267 
 
 Philomela (nightingale), her feasts, gifts, flight, 
 22 ; simile of her sorrows, 76 
 
 Philosophy, doubtful to what school Virgil be- 
 longs, 1 ; hardly suited for, 31 ; expounds 
 doctrines of Epicurus, 22, 52; materialistic 
 preferred, 40 ; ^Eneid, how like Stoic disser- 
 tation, 80 ; doctrine of the soul of the uni- 
 verse, 70, 174 ^ 
 
 Phlegethon, joined with Chaos, 164; waves of 
 torrent fire, 170 
 
 Pictures of Trojan war, 91 
 
 Plague, cause of destruction, pollution, misery, 
 63, 64, 65; wastes the Trojans in Crete, 116 
 
 Plough, difficult description of, 36 ; has not its 
 meed of honour, 42; marks city's walls, 157 ; 
 rich Galsesus had a hundred, 188 
 
286 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Ploughing', to begin early, 33 ; cross ploughing 
 recommended, 34 
 
 Pluto (Dis), Tsenarus deep portal of, 75, 207 ; 
 lock holy to, 142 ; nether home of, 156 ; un- 
 substantial realms of, 164 ; bridal chamber of, 
 167; battlements of, 170; Alecto hateful to, 
 184; Amsanctus vent of, 189; sanctuary of 
 unpi tying, 264 
 
 Pollio,a poet, 17; in his consulship a happier 
 age is to begin, 18 
 
 Pompey, Priam's death may represent his, 79 ; 
 has with him all the East in battle array, 176 
 
 Porsena, in act of menace on the shield, 207 
 
 Portents, at death of Caesar, 42 ; no uncertain 
 ones given by Minerva, 101 ; at Polydorus' 
 grave, 114; before Dido's death, 137; inti- 
 mate Heaven's wrath, 156 ; of coming stran- 
 gers, 179; Turnus undaunted by, 211; of 
 horrible appearance pursue Diomede, 248 
 
 Priam, his sorrows represented in a picture, 
 91 ; his kindness to the captive, 100 ; his 
 palace, 106 ; his death, 108 ; his noble race, 
 148, 214; Greek sorrows that even he might 
 pity, 248 
 
 Procne (swallow), her breast marked with her 
 bloody hands, 66 
 
 Proteus, old man of the sea, 73 ; his wonderful 
 transformations and knowledge, 74; column 
 of, 248 
 
 Pyrrhus (Neoptolemus) descends from wooden 
 horse, 102 ; his exploits, 107 ; slays Priam, 
 108 ; marries Andromache, 120 ; slain by 
 jealous Orestes, 120 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quirinus (Romulus), victorious, 54 ; united with 
 his brother Remus, 88 ; captured arms hung 
 up to, 176 ; his crooked wand, 181 ; state robe 
 of, 190 
 
 R. 
 
 Ramsay, Allan, natural pastoral poet, n 
 Religious rites, attention to, 39 ; duly observed, 
 76, 77 ; observance of, part of Roman charac- 
 ter, 80; gods jealous of their observance, 83; 
 power of, 122 ; unavailing against love's 
 frenzy, 129; polluted by prodigies, 137 ; part 
 of feasts, 73, 96, 144, 180, 198, 200; at the 
 Sibyl's shrine, 160; at the mouth of hell, 164; 
 in honour of Hercules, 200 ; attention to, un- 
 availing against fate, 237; observance of, be- 
 fore a peace, 264 
 Richter, his judgment of the iEneid, 78 
 Rome, highly exalted above all other towns, 
 12 ; the Sun showed pity for, 42 ; beauty of 
 the world, 53; walls of lofty, 82; boundless 
 empire of, 87; Hector's prophecy of, 103; 
 kings and heroes of, 176; panegyric of, 176; 
 its business to rule the nations, 176; mighty 
 wealth of Rome, 196 ; site of, 201 ; forum of, 
 201 ; triumph of, 208 ; Alban and Latin, and 
 Italian, rather than Trojan, 277 ; distinguish- 
 for piety, 277 
 Romulus, prayer to him to preserve Augustus, 
 42 ; son of Ilia and Mars, 87 ; marked with 
 glory as a tenant of the sky, 175 ; made a 
 
 grove a refuge,,- 201 ; birth of, 2c6 ; the 
 thatch of his palace freshly covered, 207 
 
 S. 
 
 Sacrifices, see Religious rites. 
 
 Sarpedon slain, 84 ; Jove did not save him, 
 though his own son, 234 
 
 Saturn, cold planet of, 39 ; his crooked knife, 
 51; the life he passed on earth, 53; once 
 king in Latium, 175; old god, 181; righteous 
 character of children of, 182; land and cita- 
 del of, 201 
 
 Scenery contrasted with sorrow and death, 
 81, 138, 188, 193, 195, 216, 217, 220, 240, 
 241, 244, 254, 269, 270, 271, 275 
 
 Scipios, stout in war, 46; bane of Libya, 176 
 
 Sculpture on doors of Apollo's temple, 159, 
 160 
 
 Scylla, her barking monsters, 22 ; pays the 
 penalty of her sin, 40 ; her cliffs and caverns, 
 86; description of, 122 
 
 Servius, character of his commentary, 4 ; use- 
 ful to antiquarian, 80 
 
 Sheep, a lowly subject, but original, 59, 60; 
 care required for, 60 ; diseases of, 63 
 
 Shield of Turnus, 194; of iEneas, compart- 
 ments of, 206, 207 ; circle of sea, 207; centre, 
 battle of Actium, 207, 208 ; flight of Cleo- 
 patra, 208 ; triumph of Augustus, 208 
 
 Ships, one sunk in the sea, 84; twenty in 
 number at first, 90 ; twelve swans sign of the 
 twelve missing, 90 ; Ilioneus begs they may 
 be repaired, 93; built at the foot of Ida, 
 114; tempest-tossed, 118; sail in haste from 
 Carthage, 139; set on fire by the Trojan 
 matrons, 155; all saved, but four, 156; enter 
 the Tiber, 178; threatened by Turnus, 210; 
 transformed by Cybele into sea-nymphs, 211 
 
 Sibyl, books of, 10; Cumasan hymn of, 18; 
 cavern, leaves and prophecies of, 122, 123 ; 
 her inspiration, 160; her instructions, 162; 
 guide into hell, 164; mistress of the groves 
 of Avernus, 171 
 
 Silenus, his song, 22 
 
 Similes, in Georgics of chariot race, 42 ; battle 
 array, 48; north wind, 58; wave, 58; Cyclops, 
 69; nightingale, 76; in yEneid of good man, 
 85 ; busy bees, 91 ; Diana, 92 ; bellowing 
 bull, 102; fire aDd stream, 103; wolves, 
 104; snake, 105, 107: winds, 106; river, 
 107; doves, 108; ash, no; oaks and cy- 
 presses, 127; doe, 129; Apollo, 131; sea- 
 bird, 133; bacchanalian, 134; ants, 136; 
 oak, 137; destruction of Carthage, 141; 
 rainbow, 144 ; charioteers, 145 ; dove, 146 ; 
 snake surprised, 147 ; city or fort beleaguered, 
 151; labyrinth, 153; dolphins at play, 154; 
 misletoe, 163 ; walk by moonlight, 164 ; 
 leaves and birds in autumn, 165 ; moon 
 rising, 168; bees, 173; Berecynthian mother, 
 175; top, 185; seething caldron, 187; wave, 
 188; rock, 189; centaurs, 191; swans, 192; 
 watery ray, 195 ; earthquake, 199 ; rent of 
 fire, 202 ; industrious matron, 202 ; morning- 
 star, 206; Ganges and Nile, 209; wolf, 
 209; famished lion, 215; poppies, 217; wild 
 beast, 219; eagle, 219; storm of hail, 221; 
 
lofty oaks, 221 ; pile of stone at Baiae, 222 ; 
 lion at bay, 224; rising blasts, 226; a jewel 
 and ivory, 227; cranes ofStrymon, 230; con- 
 tending winds, 232 ; forest on fire, 232 ; lion 
 and bull, 233; iEgean, 236; phantoms and 
 dreams, 237; rock, 238; wild boar, 238; hun- 
 gry lion, 239; Orion, 239; traveller hid in 
 safe screen, 240; hyacinth, 244; rivers on 
 rocky beds, 248 ; flocks of birds, 252 ; horse, 
 252 ; advancing and retiring waves, 255 ; hawk 
 and dove, 257; eagle and serpent, 257; wolf, 
 258; lion and hunters, 261; crimson dye, 
 262 ; bull preparing for battle, 263 ; Mars 
 stirred to battle, 267; Boreas across iEgean, 
 268 ; approaching storm, 269 ; swallow's 
 flight, 270 ; flames and streams, 271 ; bees in 
 nest, 272; descending crag, 274; Athos, 
 Eryx, Apennines, 274; two bulls fighting, 
 275 ; hound in pursuit of stag, 275 ; poisonous 
 arrow, 277 ; dreams, 278 ; stones from en- 
 gine, and thunderclaps, 279 
 I Soil of different kinds, 33 ; even when idle not 
 unthankful, 34; produces various trees, 45 ; 
 some best for grazing, some for corn, 46; 
 how to discover its powers, 47 
 
 Soul of universe, bees inspired by, 70; its 
 doctrine expounded, 174 
 
 South Wind (Auster, Notus), let in on flowers, 
 15; whistling of, 21; devising ill, 41; ten- 
 drils of vine fear, 49; dusky and lowering, 
 59; chilling, 71 ; whirls ships towards reefs, 
 84; cloudy, 156; overwhelmed mariners, 
 166; cranes fly before, 230; wishes borne to, 
 258 ; steeds of Mars flee before, 267 
 ; Styx, dark, 37; has nine circles of stream, 75, 
 168; harpies rise from, 118; gods fear to 
 perjure themselves by, 165; bark of, 167; 
 JEiieas and Sibyl cross it, 167 ; Jove ratifies 
 his word by, no, 237; name of awe imposed 
 upon the gods, 276 
 
 Suicide, Virgil's opinion of, 168 
 
 Sun, its path in zodiac, 37; a true monitor to 
 the farmer, 41 ; warns of revolutions, 41 ; 
 eclipsed at Caesar's death, 42 
 
 Sylvia, her sorrow for her pet deer, 188 
 
 Timavus, rocks of great, 24 ; of Iapia, 63 ; its 
 roaring stream, 87 
 
 Tityrus, his ease and safety, 12; represents 
 Virgil, 9; grateful to Octavianus, 13 
 
 Trees, various modes of rearing, 43 ; grafting 
 and budding of, 44; each sort of, has its 
 varieties, 44 ; different on different soils, 45 
 
 Triumph, description of Roman, 208 
 
 Trophy, description of, 243 
 
 Troy, city of Laomedon, 42 ; story of fall of, 
 97 ; Caesar descended from, 88 ; a mimic, 
 121 ; game of, 154; walls built by Neptune, 
 158; persecuted gods of, 161 ; a second, 184 ; 
 not yet vanquished, 203 ; trials of, 212 ; gods 
 do not mean to destroy the race of, 213 ; mis- 
 haps of, 225 ; at its birth, 226 ; tall towers of, 
 234 ; delay at its walls, 248 ; let its name 
 perish, 277 
 
 Tullus, will break his country's repose, 176; 
 dragged the traitor's body, 207 
 
 Turnus, suitor for Lavinia, 179; visited by the 
 Fury, 186, 187; demands war, 189; his form, 
 arms and troops, 193, 194; stirred up by 
 Iris, 208; would burn the fleet, 209; cares 
 not for portents, 211; his exploits, 222; like 
 Codes, 79, 223, 224 ; undaunted, 230 ; slays 
 Pallas, 234; deceived by the wraith of yEneas, 
 237; counts life a loss, 238; his fervid speech, 
 250 ; occupies the passes of the hills, 253 ; 
 leaves the defile, 260 ; resolves to fight /Eneas 
 in single combat, 261 ; arms himself for the 
 fight, 262 ; his deeds of valour, 267 ; hears 
 the tumult from the city, 273 ; engages with 
 /Eneas, 275; flees before him,. 275; his last 
 efforts, 278; his powers benumbed, 278; his 
 death, 279 
 
 U. 
 
 Ulysses, his crew transformed, 26; for what 
 known, 98; crafty malice of, 99; accursed, 
 102; guards the booty, 113; his country, 119; 
 prince of Ithaca avenged his comrades, 126; 
 instigator of crimes, 170; wily in words, 220; 
 saw the Cyclops of /Etna, 248 
 
 Unburied, their hard lot in Hades, 166 
 
 Tacitus, imitates Virgil, 3 ; . peculiarities of, 3 
 
 Tarquin kings, 176 ; banished, 207 
 
 Tartarus, description of, 171 
 
 Tempest, descriptions of, 39, 83, 84, 118, 156; 
 calming of, 85 ; threatening of, 142 
 
 Theocritus, genuine writer, 9; prince of pas- 
 toral poets, 11 ; his muse (of Sicily) referred 
 to, 18 
 
 Thomson, his Seasons not very like Virgil, 
 31 ; praised by Johnson, 32 
 
 Threshing-floor to be solid and level, 36 
 
 Thyrsis matched with Corydon, 23; defeated, 
 24 
 
 Tiber, Tuscan, 42, 203; Lydian, with gentle 
 current, 113; whate'er it may be, 144; de- 
 scription of its mouth, 178; river-god appears 
 to /Eneas, 195 ; calms his swelling flood, 
 196; receives Turnus in his yellow flood, 
 224; Mezentius rests on its bank, 241; swell- 
 ed with Trojan blood, 161, 250 
 
 Varius-, united by Horace with Virgil, 2 
 
 Varus, Virgil excuses himself from celebrating, 
 21 ; yet has sung of him, 27 
 
 Venus, myrtle dear to, 24; complains to Jove 
 of her son's lot, 87; appears to him disguised 
 as a huntress, 88; her glory revealed, 90; 
 substitutes Cupid for lulus, 95 ; bids her son 
 save his family, 109; her conversation with 
 Juno, 130; begs of Neptune a safe voyage for 
 the fleet, 157, 158; obtains arms for her son 
 from Vulcan, 202; brings them to her son, 
 206 ; inveighs against Juno, 225 ; wounded 
 by Diomede, 248 ; brings dittany to heal her 
 son's wound, 269; plucks her son's weapon 
 from the stock of the tree, 276 
 
 Vines, many kinds of, 44 ; part of the glory of 
 Italy, 45 ; soil best suited for, 46 ; how to be 
 prepared for them, 48 ; their proper order on 
 
288 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 plains and slopes, 48 ; trenches for, 48 ; to 
 be planted in spring, 49 ; luxuriance of, to 
 be pruned, 50 ; goats the especial enemy of, 
 50; storms dreaded by, 51 
 
 Virgil, friend of Gallus, 1, 10; his fondness 
 for Naples, 2 ; his amiable character, 2 ; his 
 friendship with Horace, 2; opinion of him 
 among later Romans, 3 ; Sortes Virgilianse, 
 4; opinions of him by the Christian fathers, 
 4; notions of him in the middle ages, 5; 
 why Dante chose him as guide, 6; criticism 
 supplants legends, 6 ; editions of Virgil, 7 ; 
 influence of Virgil on modern poets, 7; on 
 education, 8; recovers his land, 9; how an 
 unreal poet, 11; yet without rival, 11; not 
 a philosopher, 31 ; only mention of himself by 
 name, 77 
 
 Volcano, description of, 125 
 
 Vulcan, his fire, 38; left his infant on the 
 hearth, 191 ; father of the monster Cacus, 
 198; made arms for Achilles and Memnon, 
 97, 202; his forge in Vulcania, 202; lord of 
 fire, 208; Turnus professes not to need his 
 arms, 21 1 ; makes arms for ./Eneas, 203, 251. 
 
 W. 
 
 Weather, signs of bad, 39, 40 ; signs of fine, 
 40; how the moon and sun predict changes 
 in, 41 
 Wraith, description of, 237 
 Wordsworth, his opinion of Virgil, 81 
 
 Y. 
 
 Yews of Corsica to be shunned by bees, 27 ; not 
 to be near a hive, 66 
 
 Youth, brilliant complexion of, 94 ; shining in, 
 107; beauty of, 139; flower of, 148; recom- 
 mends virtue, 149; relying in, 150; early 
 dawn of, 212 
 
 Z. 
 
 Zephyrs, ever shifting, 19 ; unbind earth, 38 ; 
 home of, 40; warm breezes of, 49 ; their call, 
 60; lingering, 68; summoned by Neptune, 
 84; favouring, 116; to be summoned by 
 Mercury, 132; favourable, 143; lulled to 
 rest, 226 
 
 Zones, description of the five, 237 
 
 Cambridge: printed by c. j. clay, m.a. at the university press. 
 
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