CX .   "Then, as with adverse Gods and feebler power
He faced Pelides, in a cloud I caught
Thy favourite, albeit 'twas the hour
When, wroth with perjured Ilion, I sought
To raze the walls these very hands had wrought.
Fear not; unaltered doth my will remain.
Safe shall he be into this haven brought.
One, only one, for many shall be slain; 		982
One in the deep thy son shall look for, but in vain."


CXI .   So saying, he soothed the Goddess, and in haste
His steeds with golden harness yoked amain.
The bridle and the foaming bit he placed,
To curb their fury, and outflung the rein.
Lightly he flies along the watery plain,
Borne in his azure chariot. Far and nigh
Beneath his thundering wheels the heaving main
Sinks, and the waves are tranquil, and on high 		991
Through flying storm-drift shines the immeasurable sky.


CXII .   Behind him throng, in many a motley group,
His followers—monsters of enormous chine,
Sea-shouldering whales, and Glaucus' aged troop,
Paloemon, Ino's progeny divine,
Swift Tritons, born to gambol in the brine,
And Phorcus' finny legions. Melite,
And virgin Panopoea leftward shine,
Thetis, Nesæe, daughters of the sea, 		1000
Spio, Thalia fair, and bright Cymodoce.


CXIII .   Then o'er Æneas' spirit, racked with fear,
Joy stole in gentle counterchange. He hails
The crews, and biddeth them the masts uprear,
And stretch the sheets. All, tacking, loose the brails
Larboard or starboard, and let go the sails,
And square or sideways to the breeze incline
The lofty sailyards. Welcome blow the gales
Behind them. Palinurus leads the line; 		1009
The rest his course obey, and follow at his sign.


CXIV .   Damp Night well-nigh had climbed Olympus' crest;
Each slumbering mariner his limbs unbends,
Stretched by his oar, along the bench at rest,
When lo! false Sleep his feathery wings extends.
To guiltless Palinurus he descends,
Parting the scattered shadows. Down he bears
Delusive dreams, and cunning words pretends,
As now, in Phorbas' likeness he appears, 		1018
Perched on the lofty stern, and whispers in his ears:


CXV .   "Son of Iasus! see, the tide that flows
Bears thee along; behind thee breathes apace
The stern breeze, and the hour invites repose.
Rest now, and cheat thy wearied eyes a space,
Myself will take the rudder in thy place."
"Nay," quoth the pilot, with half-lifted eyes,
"Shall I put faith in ocean's treacherous face,
And trust Æneas to the flattering skies, 		1027
I, whom their smiles oft fooled, but folly hath made wise?"


CXVI .   So saying, he grasped the tiller, nor his hold
Relaxed, nor ever from the stars withdrew
His steadfast eyes, still watchful when behold!
A slumberous bough the god revealed to view,
Thrice dipt in Styx, and drenched with Lethe's dew.
Then, lightly sprinkling, o'er the pilot's brows
The drowsy dewdrops from the leaves he threw.
Dim grow his eyes; the languor of repose 		1036
Steals o'er his faltering sense, the lingering eyelids close.


CXVII .   Scarce now his limbs were loosened by the spell,
Down weighed the god, and in the rolling main
Dashed him headforemost, clutching, as he fell,
Stern timbers torn, and rudder rent in twain,
And calling oft his comrades, but in vain.
This done, his wings he balanced, and away
Soared skyward. Natheless o'er the broad sea-plain
The ships sail on; safe lies the watery way, 		1045
For Neptune's plighted words the seamen's cares allay.


CXVIII .   Now near the Sirens' perilous cliffs they draw,
White with men's bones, and hear the surf-beat side
Roar with hoarse thunder. Here the Sire, who saw
The ship was labouring, and had lost her guide,
Straight seized the helm, and steered her through the tide,
While, grieved in heart, with many a groan and sigh,
He mourned for Palinurus. "Ah," he cried,
"For faith reposed on flattering sea and sky, 		1054
Left on an unknown shore, thy naked corpse must lie!"

BOOK SIX

ARGUMENT

Arrived at Cumæ Æneas visits the Sibyl's shrine, and, after prayer and sacrifice to Apollo, asks access to the nether-world to visit his father (1-162). He must first pluck for Proserpine the golden bough and bury a dead comrade (163-198). After the death and burial of Misenus, Æneas finds and gathers the golden bough (199-261). Preparation and Invocation (262-328). The start (329-333). The "dreadful faces" that guard the outskirts of Hell. Charon's ferry and the unburied dead (334-405). Palinurus approaches and entreats burial. Passing by Charon and Cerberus, they see the phantoms of suicides, of children, of lovers, and experience Dido's disdain (406-559). From Greek and Trojan shades Deiphobus is singled out to tell his story (560-644). The Sibyl hurries Æneas on past the approach to Tartarus, describing by the way its rulers and its horrors. Finally, they reach Elysium and gain entrance (645-757). The search among the shades of the Blessed for Anchises, and the meeting between father and son (758-828). Anchises explains the mystery of the Transmigration of Souls, and the book closes with the revelation to Æneas of the future greatness of Rome, whose heroes, from the days of the kings to the times of Augustus, pass in procession before him (829-1071). He is then dismissed through the Ivory Gate, and sails on his way to Caieta (1072-1080).


I .   Weeping he speaks, and gives his fleet the rein,
And glides at length to the Euboean strand
Of Cumæ. There, with prows towards the main,
Safe-fastened by the biting anchors, stand
The vessels, and the round sterns line the land.
Forth on the shore, in eager haste to claim
Hesperia's welcome, leaps a youthful band.
These search the flint-stones for the seeds of flame, 		1
Those point to new-found streams, or scour the woods for game.


II .   But good Æneas seeks the castled height
And temple, to the great Apollo dear,
And the vast cave where, hidden far from sight
Within her sanctuary dark and drear,
Dwells the dread Sibyl, whom the Delian seer
Inspires with soul and wisdom to unfold
The things to come.—So now, approaching near
Through Trivia's grove, the temple they behold, 		10
And entering, see the roof all glittering with gold.


III .   Fame is, that Dædalus, adventuring forth
On rapid wings, from Minos' realms in flight,
Trusted the sky, and to the frosty North
Swam his strange way, till on the tower-girt height
Of Chalcis gently he essayed to light.
Here, touching first the wished-for land again,
To thee, great Phoebus, and thy guardian might,
He vowed, and bade as offerings to remain, 		19
The oarage of his wings, and built a stately fane.


IV .   Androgeos' death is graven on the gate;
There stand the sons of Cecrops, doomed each year
With seven victims to atone his fate.
The lots are drawn; the fatal urn is near.
Here, o'er the deep the Gnossian fields appear,
The bull—the cruel passion—the embrace
Stol'n from Pasiphae—all the tale is here;
The Minotaur, half human, beast in face, 		28
Record of nameless lust, and token of disgrace.


V .   There, toil-wrought house and labyrinthine grove,
With tangled maze, too intricate to tread,
But that, in pity for the queen's great love,
Its secret Dædalus revealed, and led
Her lover's blinded footsteps with a thread.
There, too, had sorrow not the wish denied,
Thy name and fame, poor Icarus, were read.
Twice in the gold to carve thy fate he tried, 		37
And twice the father's hands dropped faltering to his side.


VI .   So they in gazing had the time beguiled,
But now, returning from his quest, comes near
Achates, with Deiphobe, the child
Of Glaucus, Phoebus' and Diana's seer.
"Not this," she cries, "the time for tarrying here
For shows like these. Go, hither bring with speed
Seven ewes, the choicest, and with each a steer
Unyoked, in honour of the God to bleed." 		46
So to the Chief she spake, and straight his followers heed.


VII .   Into the lofty temple now with speed,—
A huge cave hollowed in the mountain's side,—
The priestess calls the Teucrians. Thither lead
A hundred doors, a hundred entries wide,
A hundred voices from the rock inside
Peal forth, the Sibyl answering. So they
Had reached the threshold, when the maiden cried,
"Now 'tis the time to seek the fates and pray; 		55
Behold, behold the God!" and standing there, straightway,


VIII .   Her colour and her features change; loose streams
Her hair disordered, and her heart distrest
Swells with wild frenzy. Larger now she seems,
Her voice not mortal, as her heaving breast
Pants, with the approaching Deity possest.
"Pray, Trojan," peals her warning utterance, "pray!
Cease not, Æneas, nor withhold thy quest,
Nor stint thy vows. While dumbly ye delay, 		64
Ne'er shall its yawning doors the spell-bound house display."


IX .   She ceased: at once an icy chill ran through
The sturdy Trojans. From his inmost heart
Thus prayed the King: "O Phoebus, wont to view
With pity Troy's sore travail; thou, whose art
True to Achilles aimed the Dardan dart,
How oft, thou guiding, have I tracked the main
Round mighty lands, to earth's remotest part
Massylian tribes and Libya's sandy plain: 		73
Scarce now the flying shores of Italy we gain.


X .   "Enough, thus far Troy's destinies to bear,
Ye, too, at length, your anger may abate
And deign the race of Pergamus to spare,
O Gods and Goddesses, who viewed with hate
Troy and the glories of the Dardan state.
And thou, dread mistress of prophetic lore,
Grant us—I ask but what is due by Fate,
Our promised realms—that on the Latian shore 		82
Troy's sons and wandering gods may find a home once more.


XI .   "To Phoebus then and Trivia's sacred name,
Thy patron powers, a temple will I rear
Of solid marble, and due rites proclaim
And festal days, for votaries each year
The name of guardian Phoebus to revere.
Thee, too, hereafter in our realms await
Shrines of the stateliest, for thy name is dear.
There safe shall rest the mystic words of Fate, 		91
And chosen priests shall guard the oracles of state.


XII .   "Only to leaves commit not, priestess kind,
Thy verse, lest fragments of the mystic scroll
Fly, tost abroad, the playthings of the wind.
Thyself in song the oracle unroll."
He ceased; the seer, impatient of control,
Strives, like a frenzied Bacchant, in her cell,
To shake the mighty deity from her soul.
So much the more, her raging heart to quell, 		100
He tires the foaming mouth, and shapes her to his spell.


XIII .   Then yawned the hundred gates, and every door,
Self-opening suddenly, revealed the fane,
And through the air the Sibyl's answer bore:
"O freed from Ocean's perils, but in vain,
Worse evils yet upon the land remain.
Doubt not; Troy's sons shall reach Lavinium's shore,
And rule in Latium; so the Fates ordain.
Yet shall they rue their coming. Woes in store, 		109
Wars, savage wars, I see, and Tiber foam with gore.


XIV .   "A Xanthus there and Simois shall be seen,
And Doric tents; Achilles, goddess-born,
Shall rise anew, nor Jove's relentless Queen
Shall cease to vex the Teucrians night and morn.
Then oft shalt thou, sore straitened and forlorn,
All towns and tribes of Italy implore
To grant thee shelter from the foemen's scorn.
An alien bride, a foreign bed once more 		118
Shall bring the old, old woes, the ancient feud restore.


XV .   "Yield not to evils, but the bolder thou
Persist, defiant of misfortune's frown,
And take the path thy Destinies allow.
Hope, where unlooked for, comes thy toils to crown,
Thy road to safety from a Grecian town."
So sang the Sibyl from her echoing fane,
And, wrapping truth in mystery, made known
The dark enigmas of her frenzied strain. 		127
So Phoebus plied the goad, and shook the maddening rein.


XVI .   Soon ceased the fit, the foaming lips were still.
"O maiden," said Æneas, "me no more
Can danger startle, nor strange shape of ill.
All have I seen and throughly conned before.
One boon I beg,—since yonder are the door
Of Pluto, and the gloomy lakes, they tell,
Fed by o'erflowing Acheron,—once more
To see the father whom I loved so well. 		136
Teach me the way, and ope the sacred gates of hell.


XVII .   "Him on these shoulders, in the days ago,
A thousand darts behind us, did I bear
Safe through the thickest of the flames and foe.
He, partner of my travels, loved to share
The threats of ocean and the storms of air,
Though weak, yet strong beyond the lot of age.
'Twas he who bade me, with prevailing prayer,
Approach thee humbly, and thy care engage, 		145
Pity the sire and son, and Trojan hearts assuage.


XVIII .   "For thou can'st all, nor Hecate for naught
Hath set thee o'er Avernus' groves to reign.
If Orpheus from the shades his bride up-brought,
Trusting his Thracian harp and sounding strain,
If Pollux could from Pluto's drear domain
His brother by alternate death reclaim,
And tread the road to Hades o'er again
Oft and so oft—why great Alcides name? 		154
Why Theseus? I, as they, Jove's ancestry can claim."


XIX .   So prayed Æneas, clinging to the shrine,
When thus the prophetess: "O Trojan Knight,
Born of Anchises, and of seed divine,
Down to Avernus the descent is light,
The gate of Dis stands open day and night.
But upward thence thy journey to retrace,
There lies the labour; 'tis a task of might,
By few achieved, and those of heavenly race, 		163
Whom shining worth extolled or Jove hath deigned to grace.


XX .   "Thick woods and shades the middle space invest,
And black Cocytus girds the drear abode.
Yet, if such passion hath thy soul possessed,
If so thou longest to indulge thy mood,
And madly twice to cross the Stygian flood,
And visit twice black Tartarus, mark the way
Sacred to nether Juno, in a wood,
With golden stem and foliage, lurks a spray, 		172
And trees and darksome dales surrounding shroud the day.


XXI .   "Yet none the shades can visit, till he tear
That golden growth, the gift of Pluto's queen,
And show the passport she decreed to bear.
One plucked, another in its place is seen,
As bright and burgeoning with golden green.
Search then aloft, and when thou see'st the spray,
Reach forth and pluck it; willingly, I ween,
If Fate shall call thee, 'twill thy touch obey; 		181
Else steel nor strength of arm shall rend the prize away.


XXII .   "Mark yet—alas! thou know'st not—yonder lies
Thy friend's dead body, and pollutes the shore.
While thou the Fates art asking to advise,
And lingering here, a suppliant, at our door.
Nay, first thy comrade to his home restore,
And build a tomb, and bring black cattle; they
The stain shall expiate; so the Stygian shore
Shalt thou behold, and tread the sunless way, 		190
Which living feet ne'er trod, and mounted to the day."


XXIII .   She ended. From the cave Æneas went,
With down-dropt eyes and melancholy mien,
Inly revolving many a dark event.
Trusty Achates at his side is seen,
Moody alike, each measured step between
In musing converse framing phantasies,
What lifeless comrade could the priestess mean?
Whom to be buried? When before their eyes, 		199
Stretched on the barren beach the dead Misenus lies,


XXIV .   Dead with dishonour, in unseemly plight,
Misenus, son of Æolus, whom beside
None better knew with brazen blast to light
The flames of war, and wake the warrior's pride.
Once Hector's co-mate, proud at Hector's side
To wind the clarion and the sword to wield.
When, stricken by Achilles, Hector died,
Æneas then he followed to the field, 		208
Loth to a meaner lord his fealty to yield.


XXV .   Now while a challenge to the gods he blew,
And made the waves his hollow shell resound,
Him Triton, jealous—if the tale be true—
Caught unaware, and in the surges drowned
Among the rocks.—There now the corpse they found.
Loud groaned Æneas, and a mournful cry
Rose from the Trojans, as they gazed around.
Then, filled with tears, the Sibyl's task they ply, 		217
And rear a wood-built pile and altar to the sky.


XXVI .   Into a grove of aged trees they go,
The wild-beasts' lair. The holm-oak rings amain,
Smit with the axe, the pitchy pine falls low,
Sharp wedges cleave the beechen core in twain,
The mountain ash comes rolling to the plain.
Foremost himself, accoutred as the rest,
Æneas cheered them, toiling with his train;
Then, musing sadly, and with pensive breast, 		226
Gazed on the boundless grove, and thus his prayer addressed:


XXVII .   "O in this grove could I behold the tree
With golden bough; since true, alas, too true,
Misenus, hath the priestess sung of thee!"
He spake, when, lighting on the sward, down flew
Two doves. With joy his mother's birds he knew,
"Lead on, blest guides, along the air," he prayed,
"If way there be, the precious bough to view,
Whose golden leaves the teeming soil o'ershade; 		235
O mother, solve my doubts, nor stint the needed aid."


XXVIII .   So saying, he stays his footsteps, fain to heed
What signs they give, and whitherward their flight.
Awhile they fly, awhile they stop to feed,
Then, fluttering, keep within the range of sight,
Till, coming where Avernus, dark as night,
Gapes, with rank vapours from its depths uprolled,
Aloft they soar, and through the liquid height
Dart to the tree, where, wondrous to behold, 		244
The varying green sets forth the glitter of the gold.


XXIX .   As in the woods, in winter's cold, is seen,
Sown on an alien tree, the mistletoe
To bloom afresh with foliage newly green,
And round the tapering boles its arms to throw,
Laden with yellow fruitage, even so
The oak's dark boughs the golden leaves display,
So the foil rustles in the breezes low.
Quickly Æneas plucks the lingering spray, 		253
And to the Sibyl bears the welcome gift away.


XXX .   Nor less the dead Misenus they deplore,
And honours to the thankless dust assign.
A stately pyre they build upon the shore,
Rich with oak-timbers and the resinous pine,
And sombre foliage in the sides entwine.
In front, the cypress marks the fatal soil,
Above, they leave the warrior's arms to shine.
These heat the water, till the caldrons boil, 		262
And wash the stiffened limbs, and fill the wounds with oil.


XXXI .   Loud is the wailing; then with many a tear
They lay him on the bed, and o'er him throw
His purple robes. These lift the massive bier;
Those, as of yore—sad ministry of woe—
With eyes averted, hold the torch below.
Oil, spice and viands, in promiscuous heap,
They pour and pile upon the fire; and now,
The embers crumbling and the flames asleep, 		271
With draughts of ruddy wine the thirsty ash they steep.


XXXII .   And Cornyæus in a brazen urn
Enshrined the bones, upgathered in a caul,
And bearing round pure water, thrice in turn
From olive branch the lustral dew lets fall,
And, sprinkling, speaks the latest words of all.
A lofty mound Æneas hastes to frame,
Crowned with his oar and trumpet, 'neath a tall
And airy cliff, which still Misenus' name 		280
Preserves, and ages keep his everlasting fame.


XXXIII .   This done, Æneas hastens to obey
The Sibyl's hest.—There was a monstrous cave,
Rough, shingly, yawning wide-mouthed to the day,
Sheltered from access by the lake's dark wave
And shadowing forests, gloomy as the grave.
O'er that dread space no flying thing could ply
Its wings unjeopardied (whence Grecians gave
The name "Aornos"), such a stench on high 		289
Rose from the poisonous jaws, and filled the vaulted sky.


XXXIV .   Here four black oxen, as the maid divine
Commands them, forth to sacrifice are led.
Over their brows she pours the sacred wine,
Then plucks the hairs that sprouted on the head
And burns them, as the first-fruits to the dead,
Calling aloud on Hecate, whose reign
In Heaven and Erebus is owned with dread.
These stab the victims in the throat, and drain 		298
In bowls the steaming blood that gushes from the slain.


XXXV .   A black-fleeced lamb Æneas slays, to please
The Furies' mother and her sister dread,
A barren cow to Proserpine decrees.
Then to the Stygian monarch of the dead
The midnight altars he began to spread.
The bulls' whole bodies on the flames he laid,
And fat oil on the broiling entrails shed,
When lo! as Morn her opening beams displayed, 		307
Loud rumblings shook the ground, the wooded hill-tops swayed,


XXXVI .   And hell-dogs baying through the gloom, proclaimed
The Goddess near. "Back, back, unhallowed crew,
And quit the grove!" the prophetess exclaimed,
"Thou, bare thy blade, and take the road in view.
Now, Trojan, for a stalwart heart and true;
Firmness and steadiness!" No more she cried,
But back into the open cave withdrew,
Fired with new frenzy. He, with fearless stride, 		316
Treads on the Sibyl's heels, rejoicing in his guide.


XXXVII .   O silent Shades, and ye, the powers of Hell,
Chaos and Phlegethon, wide realms of night,
What ear hath heard, permit the tongue to tell,
High matter, veiled in darkness, to indite.—
On through the gloomy shade, in darkling plight,
Through Pluto's solitary halls they stray,
As travellers, whom the Moon's unkindly light
Baffles in woods, when, on a lonely way, 		325
Jove shrouds the heavens, and night has turned the world to grey.


XXXVIII .   Before the threshold, in the jaws of Hell,
Grief spreads her pillow, with remorseful Care.
There sad Old Age and pale Diseases dwell,
And misconceiving Famine, Want and Fear,
Terrific shapes, and Death and Toil appear.
Death's kinsman, Sleep, and Joys of sinful kind,
And deadly War crouch opposite, and here
The Furies' iron chamber, Discord blind 		334
And Strife, her viperous locks with gory fillets twined.


XXXIX .   High in the midst a giant elm doth fling
The shadows of its aged arms. There dwell
False Dreams and, nestling, to the foliage cling,
And monstrous shapes, too numerous to tell,
Keep covert, stabled in the porch of Hell.
The beast of Lerna, hissing in his ire,
Huge Centaurs, two-formed Scyllas, fierce and fell,
Briareus hundred-handed, Gorgons dire, 		343
Harpies, the triple Shade, Chimæra fenced with fire.


XL .   At once Æneas, stirred by sudden fear,
Clutches his sword, and points the naked blade
To affront them. Then, but that the Heaven-taught seer
Warned him that each was but an empty shade,
A shapeless soul, vain onset he had made,
And slashed the shadows. So he checked his hand,
And past the gateway in the gloom they strayed
Through Tartarus to Acheron's dark strand, 		352
Where thick the whirlpool boils, and voids the seething sand


XLI .   Into the deep Cocytus. Charon there,
Grim ferryman, stands sentry. Mean his guise,
His chin a wilderness of hoary hair,
And like a flaming furnace stare his eyes.
Hung in a loop around his shoulders lies
A filthy gaberdine. He trims the sail,
And, pole in hand, across the water plies
His steel-grey shallop with the corpses pale, 		361
Old, but a god's old age has left him green and hale.


XLII .   There shoreward rushed a multitude, the shades
Of noble heroes, numbered with the dead,
Boys, husbands, mothers and unwedded maids,
Sons on the pile before their parents spread,
As leaves in number, which the trees have shed
When Autumn's frosts begin to chill the air,
Or birds, that from the wintry blasts have fled
And over seas to sunnier shores repair. 		370
So thick the foremost stand, and, stretching hands of prayer,


XLIII .   Plead for a passage. Now the boatman stern
Takes these, now those, then thrusts the rest away,
And vainly for the distant bank they yearn.
Then spake Æneas, for with strange dismay
He viewed the tumult, "Prithee, maiden, say
What means this thronging to the river-side?
What seek the souls? Why separate, do they
Turn back, while others sweep the leaden tide? 		379
Who parts the shades, what doom the difference can decide?"


XLIV .   Thereto in brief the aged priestess spake:
"Son of Anchises, and the god's true heir,
Thou see'st Cocytus and the Stygian lake,
By whose dread majesty no god will dare
His solemn oath attested to forswear.
These are the needy, who a burial crave;
The ferryman is Charon; they who fare
Across the flood, the buried; none that wave 		388
Can traverse, ere his bones have rested in the grave.


XLV .   "A hundred years they wander in the cold
Around these shores, till at the destined date
The wished-for pools, admitted, they behold."
Sad stood Æneas, pitying their estate,
And, thoughtful, pondered their unequal fate.
Leucaspis there, and Lycia's chief he viewed,
Orontes, joyless, tombless, whom of late,
Sea-tost from Troy, the blustering South pursued, 		397
And ship and crew at once whelmed in the rolling flood.


XLVI .   There paced in sorrow Palinurus' ghost,
Who, lately from the Libyan shore their guide,
Watching the stars, headforemost from his post
Had fallen, and perished in the wildering tide.
Him, known, but dimly in the gloom descried,
The Dardan hails, "O Palinurus! who
Of all the gods hath torn thee from our side?
Speak, for Apollo, never known untrue, 		406
This once hath answered false, and mocked with hopes undue.


XLVII .   "Safe—so he sang—should'st thou escape the sea,
And scatheless to Ausonia's coast attain.
Lo, this, his plighted promise!"—"Nay," said he,
"Nor answered Phoebus' oracle in vain,
Nor did a god o'erwhelm me in the main.
For while I ruled the rudder, charged to keep
Our course, and steered thee o'er the billowy plain,
Sudden, I slipped, and, falling prone and steep, 		415
Snapped with sheer force the helm, and dragged it to the deep.


XLVIII .   "Naught—let the rough seas witness—but for thee
I feared, lest rudderless, her pilot lost,
Your ship should fail in such a towering sea.
Three wintry nights, nipt with the chilling frost,
Upon the boundless waters I was tost,
And on the fourth dawn from a wave at last
Descried Italia. Slowly to her coast
I swam, and clutching at the rock, held fast, 		424
Cumbered with dripping clothes, and deemed the worst o'erpast.


XLIX .   "When lo! the savage folk, with sword and stave,
Set on me, weening to have found rich prey.
And now my bones lie weltering on the wave,
Now on strange shores winds blow them far away.
O! by the memory of thy sire, I pray,
By young Iulus, and his hope so fair,
By heaven's sweet breath and light of gladsome day,
Relieve my misery, assuage my care, 		433
Sail back to Velia's port, great conqueror, and there


L .   "Strew earth upon me, for the task is light;
Or, if thy goddess-mother deign to show
Some path—for never in the god's despite
O'er these dread waters would'st thou dare to go,
Thine aid in pity on a wretch bestow;
Reach forth thy hand, and bear me to my rest,
Dead with the dead to ease me of my woe."
He spake, and him the prophetess addressed: 		442
"O Palinurus! whence so impious a request?


LI .   "Think'st thou the Stygian waters to explore
Unburied, and the Furies' flood to see,
And reach unbidden yon relentless shore?
Hope not by prayer to bend the Fates' decree,
But take this comfort to thy misery;
The neighbouring towns, and people far and near,
Compelled by prodigies, thy ghost shall free,
And load thy tomb with offerings year by year, 		451
And Palinurus' name for aye the place shall bear."


LII .   These words relieved his heaviness; joy came
Upon his saddened spirit, pleased to hear
The well-known land remembered by his name.
Thus on they journey, and the stream draw near;
Whom when the Stygian boatman saw appear,
As shoreward through the silent grove they stray,
With stern rebuke he challenged them: "Beware;
Stand off; approach not, but your purpose say; 		460
What brought you here, whoe'er ye come in armed array?


LIII .   "Here Shades inhabit,—Sleep and drowsy Night,—
I may not steer the living to yon shore.
Small joy was mine, when, in the gods' despite,
Alive Alcides o'er the stream I bore,
And Theseus and Pirithous, though more
Than men in prowess, nor of mortal clay.
One tried to seize Hell's guardian, and before
Our monarch's throne to chain the trembling prey; 		469
These from her lord's own bed to drag the queen to day."


LIV .   Briefly the seer Amphrysian spake again:
"No guile these arms intend, nor open fight;
Fear not; still may the monster in his den
With endless howl the bloodless ghosts affright,
And chaste Proserpine guard her uncle's right.
Duteous and brave, his father's shade to view,
Descends the famed Æneas; if the sight
Of love so great is powerless to subdue, 		478
Mark this,"—and from her vest the fateful gift she drew.


LV .   Down fell his wrath: the venerable bough,
So long unseen, with wonderment he eyed;
Then, shoreward turning with his cold-blue prow,
From bench and gangway thrusts the shades aside,
And takes the great Æneas and his guide.
The stitched bark, groaning with the load it bore,
Gapes at each seam, and drinks the plenteous tide,
Till Prince and Prophetess, borne safely o'er, 		487
Stand on the dank, grey ooze and grim, unsightly shore.


LVI .   Crouched in a fronting cave, huge Cerberus wakes
These kingdoms with his three-mouthed bark. His head
The priestess marked, all bristling now with snakes,
And flung a sop of honied drugs and bread.
He, famine-stung, with triple jaws dispread,
The morsel snaps, then prone along the cave
Lies stretched on earth, with loosened limbs, as dead.
The sentry lulled, Æneas, blithe and brave, 		496
Seizes the pass, and leaves the irremeable wave.


LVII .   Loud shrieks are heard, and wails of the distrest,
The souls of babes, that on the threshold cry,
Reft of sweet life, and ravished from the breast,
And early plunged in bitter death. Hard by
Are those, whom slanderous charges doomed to die.
Not without judgment these abodes they win.
Here, urn in hand, dread Minos sits to try
The charge anew; he summons from within 		505
The silent court, and learns each several life and sin.


LVIII .   And next are those, who, hateful of the day,
With guiltless hands their sorrowing lives have ta'en,
And miserably flung their souls away.
How gladly now, in upper air again,
Would they endure their poverty and pain!
It may not be. The Fates their doom decide
Past hope, and bind them to this sad domain.
Dark round them rolls the sea, unlovely tide; 		514
Ninefold the waves of Styx those dreary realms divide.


LIX .   Not far off stretch the Mourning Meads, where those
Whom cruel Love hath wasted with despair,
In myrtle groves and alleys hide their woes,
Nor Death itself relieves them of their care.
Lo, Phædra, Procris, Eriphyle there,
Baring the breast by filial hands imbrued,
Evadne, and Pasiphaë, and fair
Laodamia in the crowd he viewed, 		523
And Cæneus, maid, then man, and now a maid renewed.


LX .   There through the wood Phoenician Dido strayed,
Fresh from her wound. Whom when Æneas knew,
Scarce seen, though near, amid the doubtful shade,
As one who views, or only seems to view,
The clouded moon rise when the month is new,
Fondly he spake, while tears were in his eye:
"Ah, hapless Dido! then the news was true
That thou had'st sought the bitter end. Was I, 		532
Alas! the cause of death? O by the starry sky,


LXI .   "By Gods above, by faith, if aught, below,
Unwillingly, O Queen, I left thy sight.
The Gods, at whose compulsion now I go
Through these dark Shades, this realm of deepest Night,
These wastes of squalor, 'twas their word of might
That drove me forth; nor could I dream such woe
Was thine at my departing. Stay thy flight.
Whom dost thou fly? O, whither wilt thou go? 		541
One word—the last, sad word—one parting look bestow!"


LXII .   So strove Æneas, weeping, to appease
Her wrathful spirit. She, with down-fixt eyes
Turns from him, scowling, heedless of his pleas,
And hard as flint or marble, nor replies.
Then, starting, to the shadowy grove she flies,
Where dead Sychæus, her old lord, renews
His love with hers, and sorrows with her sighs.
Touched by her fate, the Dardan hero views, 		550
And far with tearful gaze the melting shade pursues.


LXIII .   Thus onward to the furthest fields they strayed,
The haunts of heroes here doth Tydeus fare,
Parthenopæus, pale Adrastus' shade.
And many a Dardan, wailed in upper air,
And fallen in war. Sighing, he sees them there,
Glaucus, Thersilochus and Medon slain,
Antenor's sons, three brethren past compare,
And Polyphoetes, priest of Ceres' fane, 		559
And brave Idæus, still grasping the sword and rein.


LXIV .   All throng around, nor rest content to claim
One look, but linger with delight, and fain
Would pace beside, and question why he came.
But when the Greeks and Agamemnon's train
Beheld the hero, and his arms shone plain,
Huge terror shook them, and some turned to fly,
As erst they scattered to their ships; some strain
Their husky voice, and raise a feeble cry. 		568
The warshout mocks their throats, the gibbering accents die.


LXV .   There, too, he sees great Priam's son, the famed
Deiphobus, in evil plight forlorn;
A mangled shape, his visage marred and maimed.
His ravaged face the ruthless steel had torn,—
Face, nose and ears—and both his hands were shorn.
Him, cowering back, and striving to disown
The shameful tokens of his foemen's scorn,
Scarcely Æneas knew, then, soon as known, 		577
Thus, unaccosted, hailed in old, familiar tone:


LXVI .   "O brave Deiphobus, great Teucer's seed!
Whose heart had will, whose cruel hand had might
To wreak such punishment? Fame told, indeed,
That, tired with slaughter, thou had'st sunk that night
On heaps of mingled carnage in the fight.
Then on the shore I reared an empty mound,
And called (thy name and armour mark the site)
Thy shade. Thyself, dear comrade, ne'er was found. 		586
Vain was my parting wish to lay thee in the ground."


LXVII .   "Not thine the fault"; Deiphobus replied,
"Thy debt is rendered; thou hast dealt aright.
Fate, and the baseness of a Spartan bride
Wrought this; behold the tokens of her spite.
Thou know'st—too well must thou recall—that night
Passed in vain pleasure and delusive joy,
What time the fierce Steed, with a bound of might,
Big with armed warriors, eager to destroy, 		595
Leaped o'er the wall, and scaled the citadel of Troy.


LXVIII .   "Feigning mock orgies, round the town she led
Troy's dames, with shrieks that rent the midnight air,
And, armed with blazing cresset, at their head
Bright from the watch-tower made the signal flare,
That called the Danaan foemen from their lair.
I, sunk in sleep, the fatal couch had pressed,
Worn out with watching, and weighed down with care,
And, calm and deep, Death's image, gentle Rest 		604
Crept o'er the wearied limbs, and stilled the troubled breast.


LXIX .   "Meanwhile, all arms the traitress, as I slept,
Stole from the house, and from beneath my head
She took the trusty falchion, that I kept
To guard the chamber and the bridal bed.
Then, creeping to the door, with stealthy tread,
She lifts the latch, and beckons from within
To Menelaus; so, forsooth, she fled
In hopes a lover's gratitude to win, 		613
And from the past wipe out the scandal of old sin.


LXX .   "O noble wife! But why the tale prolong?
Few words were best; my chamber they invade,
They and Ulysses, counsellor of wrong.
Heaven! be these horrors on the Greeks repaid,
If pious lips for just revenge have prayed.
But thou, make answer, and in turn explain
What brought thee, living, to these realms of shade?
By heaven's command, or wandering o'er the main, 		622
Com'st thou to view these shores, this sunless, sad domain?"


LXXI .   So they in converse haply had the day
Consumed, when, rosy-charioted, the Morn
O'erpassed mid heaven on her ethereal way,
And thus the Sibyl doth the Dardan warn:
"Night lowers apace; we linger but to mourn.
Here part the roads; beyond the walls of Dis
There lies for us Elysium; leftward borne
Thou comest to Tartarus, in whose drear abyss 		631
Poor sinners purge with pains the lives they lived amiss."


LXXII .   "Spare, priestess," cried Deiphobus, "thy wrath;
I will depart, and fill the tale, and hide
In darkness. Thou, with happier fates, go forth,
Our glory."—Sudden, from the Dardan's side
He fled. Back looked Æneas, and espied
Broad bastions, girt with triple wall, that frowned
Beneath a rock to leftward, and the tide
Of torrent Phlegethon, that flamed around, 		640
And made the beaten rocks rebellow with the sound.


LXXIII .   In front, a massive gateway threats the sky,
And posts of solid adamant upstay
An iron tower, firm-planted to defy
All force, divine or human. Night and day,
Sleepless Tisiphone defends the way,
Girt up with bloody garments. From within
Loud groans are heard, and wailings of dismay,
The whistling scourge, the fetter's clank and din, 		649
Shrieks, as of tortured fiends, and all the sounds of sin.


LXXIV .   Aghast, Æneas listens to the cries.
"O maid," he asks, "what crimes are theirs? What pain
Do they endure? what wailings rend the skies?"
Then she: "Famed Trojan, this accursed domain
None chaste may enter; so the Fates ordain.
Great Hecate herself, when here below
She made me guardian of Avernus' reign,
Led me through all the region, fain to show 		658
The tortures of the gods, the various forms of woe.


LXXV .   "Here Cretan Rhadamanthus, strict and stern,
His kingdom holds. Each trespass, now confessed,
He hears and punishes; each tells in turn
The sin, with idle triumph long suppressed,
Till death has bared the secrets of the breast.
Swift at the guilty, as he stands and quakes,
Leaps fierce Tisiphone, for vengeance prest,
And calls her sisters; o'er the wretch she shakes 		667
The torturing scourge aloft, and waves the twisted snakes.


LXXVI .   "Then, opening slow, on horrid hinges grate
The doors accursed. See'st thou what sentinel
Sits in the porch? What presence guards the gate?
Know, that within, still fiercer and more fell,
Wide-yawning with her fifty throats, doth dwell
A Hydra. Tartarus itself, hard by,
Abrupt and sheer, beneath the ghosts in Hell,
Gapes twice as deep, as o'er the earth on high 		676
Towers up the Olympian steep, the summit of the sky.


LXXVII .   "There roll the Titans, born of ancient Earth,
Hurled to the bottom by the lightning's blast.
There lie—twin monsters of enormous girth—
Aloeus' sons, who 'gainst Olympus cast
Their impious hands, and strove with daring vast
To disenthrone the Thunderer. There, again,
The famed Salmoneus I beheld, laid fast
In cruel agonies of endless pain, 		685
Who sought the flames of Jove with mimic art to feign,