XLIII .   "Yet time delayed can make occasion lost,
Yet mutual strife each nation may devour,
And Kings plight marriage at their peoples' cost.
Troy's blood and Latium's, maiden, be thy dower.
Bellona lights thee to thy bridal bower.
Not only Hecuba—Ah, sweet the joy!—
Conceives a firebrand. Born in evil hour,
The child of Venus shall her hopes destroy, 		379
And, like another Paris, fire a new-born Troy."


XLIV .   She spake, and earthward darting, fierce and fell,
Calls sad Alecto from her dark retreat
Among the Furies in the shades of Hell.
Sweet are war's sorrows to her soul, and sweet
Are evil deeds, and hatred and deceit.
E'en Pluto, e'en her sister-fiends detest
The monstrous shape, so many forms complete
The grisly horrors of that hateful pest, 		388
So many a coal-black snake sprouts from her threatening crest.


XLV .   Her Juno finds, and thus new rage inspires:
"Grant, virgin daughter of eternal Night,
This boon, the labour that thy soul desires.
Lest here my fame and honour lose their might,
And Troy gain Italy, and craft unite
Troy's prince with Latium's heiress. Thou can'st turn
Fond hearts to feuds, and brethren arm for fight.
Thou know'st, for savage is thy mood and stern, 		397
To breed domestic strife and happy homes to burn.


XLVI .   "A thousand names, a thousand means hast thou
Of mischief. Search thy fertile breast, and break
The plighted peace. Breed calumnies, and sow
The strife. Let youth desire, demand and take
Thy weapons."—Wreathed with many a Gorgon snake,
To Latium's court Alecto flew unseen,
And by Amata's chamber sate, nor spake;
While, musing on her new-come guests, the queen, 		406
Wroth for her Turnus, boiled with woman's rage and spleen.


XLVII .   At her the goddess from her dark locks threw
A snake, and lodged the monster in her breast,
To make her fury all the house undo.
In glides, impalpable, the maddening pest
Between the dainty bosom and the vest,
Breathing its venom. Like a necklace thin
It hung, all golden, like a wreath, caressed
Her temples, like a ribbon, wove within 		415
Her hair its slippery coils, and wandered o'er her skin.


XLVIII .   So, while the taint, first stealing through her frame,
Slipped in, with slimy venom, and the pest
Thrilled every sense, and wrapped her bones in flame,
Nor yet her soul had caught it, or confessed
The fiery fever that consumed her breast;
Soft, like a mother, and with tears, she cried,
Grieved for her child, and pondering with unrest
The Phrygian match, "Ah, woe the day betide, 		424
If Teucrian exiles win Lavinia for a bride!


XLIX .   "Hast thou no pity for thy child, nor thee,
O father! nor her mother, left forlorn,
When, with the rising North-wind, o'er the sea
Yon faithless pirate hath the maiden borne?
Not so, forsooth, did Lacedæmon mourn
Robbed Helen, when the Phrygian shepherd planned
Her capture. Is thy sacred faith forsworn?
Where is thy old affection? Where that hand 		433
So oft to Turnus pledged, thy kinsman of the land?


L .   "If Latins for Lavinia needs must find
A foreign mate; if so the Fates constrain,
And Faunus' words weigh heavy on thy mind,
All lands, that yield not to the Latin reign,
I count as foreign; so the Gods speak plain;
And foreign then is Turnus, if we trace
The first beginning of his princely strain.
Greeks were his grandsires; Argos was the place 		442
Where old Acrisius ruled, where dwelt th' Inachian race."


LI .   So pleading, and so weeping, she essayed
To move the king; but when her prayers were vain,
Nor tears Latinus from his purpose stayed,
And now the viper with its deadly bane
Crept to her inmost parts, and through each vein
The maddening poison to her heartstrings stole,
Then, scared by monstrous phantoms of the brain,
Poor queen! she raved, and maddening past control, 		451
Ran through the crowded streets in impotence of soul.


LII .   Like as a whip-top by the lash is sent
In widening orbs to spin, when lads among
The empty courtyards urge their merriment;
And, scourged in circling courses by the thong
It wheels and eddies, while the beardless throng
Bend over, lost in ignorant surprise,
And marvel, as the boxwood whirls along,
Stirred by each stroke; so fast Amata flies 		460
From street to street, while crowds look on with lowering eyes.


LIII .   Nay, simulating Bacchus, now she dares
To feign new orgies, and her crime complete.
Swift with her daughter to the woods she fares,
And hides her on the mountains, fain to cheat
The Trojans, and the purposed rites defeat.
"Hail, thou alone art worthy of the fair!
Evoë, Bacchus! for thy name is sweet.
For thee she grows her dedicated hair, 		469
For thee she leads the dance, the ivied wand doth bear."


LIV .   The matrons then—so fast the rumour flew,—
Fired like the Queen, and frenzied with despair,
Rush forth, and leave their ancient homes for new,
And to the breezes give their necks and hair.
These with their tremulous wailings fill the air,
And, girt about with fawn-skins, bear along
The vine-branch javelins, and Amata there,
Herself ablaze with fury, o'er the throng 		478
A blazing pine-torch waves, and chants the nuptial song


LV .   Of Turnus and Lavinia. Fiercely roll
Her blood-shot eyes, and, frowning, suddenly
She pours the frantic passions of her soul.
"Ho! Latin mothers all, where'er ye be,
Here, if ye love me, if a mother's plea
Deserve your pity, let your hair be seen
Loosed from the fillets, and be mad, like me."
So through the woods, the wild-beasts' lairs between, 		487
With Bacchanalian goads Alecto drives the Queen.


LVI .   When now thus fairly was the work begun,
The barbs of anger planted, pleased to view
Latinus' purpose and his house undone,
On dusky wings the Goddess soared, and through
The liquid air to neighbouring Ardea flew,
The bold Rutulian's city, built of yore
By Danaë, thither when the South-wind blew
Her and her followers. Ardea's name it bore, 		496
And Ardea's name still lives, though fortune smiles no more.


LVII .   There in his palace, locked in sleep's embrace,
Lay Turnus. Straight Alecto, versed in snares,
Doffs the fiend's figure and her frowning face.
The likeness of a withered crone she wears,
With wrinkled forehead and with hoary hairs.
Her fillet and her olive crown proclaim
The priestess. Changed in semblance, she appears
Like Calybe, great Juno's sacred dame; 		505
Thus to the youth she comes, and hails him by his name.


LVIII .   "Fie! Turnus, fie! wilt thou behold unstirred
Such labours wasted, and thy hopes belied?
Thy sceptre to a Dardan guest transferred?
See, now, to thee Latinus hath denied
Thy blood-bought dowry, and thy promised bride,
And seeks a stranger for his throne. Away
To thankless perils, while thy friends deride!
Go, strew the Tuscans, scatter their array, 		514
Till Latins, saved once more, their plighted word betray.


LIX .   "This mandate great Saturnia bade me bear,
Thou sleeping. Up, then! greet the welcome hour;
Arm, arm the youth, and from the towngates fare!
These Phrygian vessels with the flames devour,
Moored yonder in fair Tiber. 'Tis the power
Of Heaven that bids thee. Let Latinus, too,
If false and faithless he withhold the dower,
And grudge thy marriage, learn the deed to rue, 		523
And taste at length and try what Turnus armed can do."


LX .   Then he in scorn: "Yea, Tiber's waves beset
With foreign ships—I know it; wherefore feign
For me such terrors? Juno guards me yet.
Good mother, dotage wears thee, and thy brain
Is rusty; age hath troubled thee in vain,
And, 'midst the feuds of monarchs, mocks with fright
A priestess. Go; 'tis thine to guard the fane
And sacred statues; these be thy delight; 		532
Leave peace and war to men, whose business is to fight."


LXI .   Therewith in fire Alecto's wrath outbroke,
A sudden tremor through his limbs ran fast,
His stony eyeballs stiffened as he spoke.
So hissed the Fury with her snakes, so vast
Her shape appeared, so fierce the look she cast,
As back she thrust him with her flaming eyes,
Fain to say more, but faltering and aghast.
Two serpents from her Gorgon locks uprise; 		541
Shrill sounds her scorpion lash, as, foaming, thus she cries:


LXII .   "Behold me, worn with dotage! me, whom age
Hath rusted, and, while monarchs fight, would scare
With empty fears! Behold me in my rage!
I come, the Furies' minister; see there,
War, death and havoc in these hands I bear."
Full at his breast a firebrand, as she spoke,
Black with thick smoke, but bright with lurid glare,
The Fiend outflung. In terror he awoke, 		550
And o'er his bones and limbs a clammy sweat outbroke.


LXIII .   "Arms, arms!" he yells, and searches for his sword
In couch and chamber, maddening at the core
With war's fierce passion, and the lust abhorred
Of slaughter, and with bitter wrath yet more.
As when a wood-fire crackles with fierce roar,
Heaped round a caldron, and the simmering stream
Foams, fumes, and bubbles, and at last boils o'er,
And upward shoots the mingled smoke and steam; 		559
So Turnus boils with wrath, so dire his rage doth seem.


LXIV .   Choice youths he sends, to let Latinus know
The peace was torn, then musters his array
To guard Italia and expel the foe.
Let Trojans league with Latins as they may,
Himself can match them, and he comes to slay.
So saying, his vows he renders. Ardour fires
The fierce Rutulians, and each hails the fray;
And one his youth, and one his grace admires, 		568
And one his valorous deeds, and one his kingly sires.


LXV .   So Turnus the Rutulians stirred to war.
Meanwhile the Fury to the Trojans bent
Her flight; with wily eye she marked afar,
With snares and steeds upon the chase intent,
Iulus. On his hounds at once she sent
A sudden madness, and fierce rage awoke
To chase the stag, as with the well-known scent
She lured their nostrils.—Thus the feud outbroke; 		577
So small a cause of strife could rustic hearts provoke.


LXVI .   Broad-antlered, beauteous was the stag, which erst
The sons of Tyrrheus (Tyrrheus kept whilere
The royal herd and pastures), fostering nursed,
Snatched from the dam. Their sister, Silvia fair,
Oft wreathed his horns, and oft with tender care
She washed him, and his shaggy coat would comb.
So tamed, and trained his master's board to share,
The gentle favourite in the woods would roam; 		586
Each night, how late soe'er, he sought the well-known home.


LXVII .   Him the fierce hounds now startle far astray,
As down the stream he floats, or, crouching low,
Rests on the green bank from the noontide ray.
Athirst for praise, Ascanius bends his bow;
Loud whirs the arrow, for Fate aims the blow,
And cleaves his flank and belly. Homeward flies
The wounded creature, moaning in his woe.
Blood-stained, with piteous and imploring eyes, 		595
Like one who sues for life, he fills the house with cries.


LXVIII .   Smiting the breast, poor Silvia calls for aid.
Forth rush the churls, scarce waiting her demand,
Roused by the Fury in the wood's still shade.
One grasps a club, another wields a brand;
Rage makes a weapon of what comes to hand.
Forth from his work ran Tyrrheus, who an oak
Was cleaving with the wedge, and cheered the band.
His hand still grasped the hatchet for the stroke, 		604
And bitter wrath he breathed, and fierce the words he spoke.


LXIX .   The Fury snatched the moment; forth she flew,
And, perching on the cabin-roof, looked round,
And from the curved horn of the shepherds blew
A blast of Tartarus, that shook the ground,
And made the forests and the groves rebound
The infernal echoes. Trivia's lakes afar,
And Velia's fountains heard the dreadful sound;
The white waves heard it of the sulphurous Nar, 		613
And mothers clasped their babes, and trembled at the war.


LXX .   Swift at the summons, as the trumpet brayed,
The sturdy shepherds arm them for the fray.
Swift pour the Trojans from their camp, to aid
Ascanius. Lo! 'tis battle's stern array,
No village brawl, where churls dispute the day
With charred oak-staves and cudgels. Broadswords clash
With broadswords, and War's harvest far away
Stands, bristling black with iron, as they dash 		622
Together, and drawn swords in doubtful conflict flash.


LXXI .   And brazen arms shoot many a blinding ray,
Smit by the sun, as clouds that fill the sky,
Disparting, show the splendours of the fray.
As when a light wind o'er the sea doth fly,
And the wave whitens as the breeze goes by,
And by degrees the bosom of the deep
Heaves up and swells, till higher and more high
The billows rise, and, gathering in a heap, 		631
From Ocean's caves mount up, and storm the ethereal steep.


LXXII .   First falls the son of Tyrrheus, stretched in death,
Young Almo. In his throat the deadly bane
Stuck fast, and choked the humid pass of breath,
And clipped the thin-spun life. There, too, is slain
Grey-haired Galæsus, parleying but in vain.
More righteous none, though many around lie killed,
None wealthier did Ausonia's realm contain.
Five herds, five bleating flocks, his pastures filled, 		640
And with a hundred ploughs his fruitful lands he tilled.


LXXIII .   Thus while the conflict wavered on the plain,
The Fury, pleased her triumph to survey,
Her pledge fulfilled,—War crimsoned with the stain
Of gore, and grim Death busy with his prey,—
Swift from Hesperia wings her airy way,
And proudly speaks to Juno: "See, 'tis done;
The discord perfect in the dolorous fray,
And War with all its miseries begun. 		649
Now bid, forsooth, the foes plight friendship and be one.


LXXIV .   "Steeped are thy Trojans in Ausonian gore.
Yet speak, and more will I perform, if so
Thy purpose holds. Along the neighbouring shore
Each town shall hear the rumour of the foe,
Each breast with frenzy for the strife shall glow,
Till all bring aid, and fruitful is the land
In deeds of blood."—Then Juno: "Nay, not so;
Enough of fraud and terror. Firmly stand 		658
The causes of the feud; they battle hand to hand,


LXXV .   "And fresh blood stains the weapons chance supplied.
Such joy the bridal to Latinus bear,
And Venus' wondrous offspring, and his bride.
But thou—for scarce Olympus' king would bear
Thy lawless roving in ethereal air,—
Give place; myself will guide the rest aright."
Saturnia spoke; Alecto then and there
Her wings, that hiss with serpents, spreads for flight, 		667
And to Cocytus dives, and leaves the realms of light.


LXXVI .   In mid Italia lies a vale renowned,
Amsanctus. Dark woods down the mountain grow
This side and that; a torrent with the sound
Of thunder roars among the rocks below.
There, black as night, an awful cave they show,
The gorge of Dis. Dread Acheron from beneath
Bursts in a whirlpool, with its waves of woe,
And jaws that gape with pestilential death. 		676
There plunged the hateful Fiend, and earth and air took breath.


LXXVII .   Nor less, meanwhile, Saturnia hastes to crown
The war's mad tumult. Home the shepherds bore
Their dead from out the battle to the town.
Young Almo, and Galæsus, fouled with gore.
All bid Latinus witness, and implore
The gods, and while the blood-cry calls for flame
And slaughter, Turnus swells the wild uproar.
What! he an outcast? Shall the Trojans claim 		685
The realm, and bastards dare the Latin race to shame?


LXXVIII .   Then they, whose mothers through the pathless vales
And forests, fired with Bacchic frenzy, ply
Their orgies—so Amata's name prevails—
Come forth, and, gathering from far and nigh,
Weary the War-god with their clamorous cry,
Till, thwarting Heaven's high purpose, each and all
Omens at once and oracles defy,
And swarm around Latinus in his hall, 		694
War now is all their wish, "to arms" the general call.


LXXIX .   Firm stands the monarch as a sea-girt rock,
A sea-girt rock against the roaring main,
Which, spite of barking billows and the shock
Of Ocean, doth its own huge mass sustain.
The foaming crags around it chafe in vain,
And back it flings the seaweed from its side.
Too weak at length their madness to restrain,
For things move on as Juno's whims decide, 		703
Oft to the gods, and oft to empty air he cried.


LXXX .   "Ah me! the tempest hurries us along.
Fate grinds us sore. Poor Latins! ye must sate,
Your blood must pay, the forfeit for your wrong.
Thee, Turnus, thee the avenging fiends await,
Thou, too, the gods shalt weary, but too late.
My rest is won, and in the port I ride;
Happy in all, had not an envious fate
Denied a happy ending." Thus he cried, 		712
And to his chamber fled, and flung the crown aside.


LXXXI .   A custom in Hesperian Latium reigned,
Which Alban cities kept with sacred care,
And Rome, the world's great mistress, hath retained.
Thus still they wake the War-god, whensoe'er
For Arabs or Hyrcanians they prepare,
Or Getic tribes the tearful woes of war,
Or push to Ind their distant arms, or dare
To track the footsteps of the Morning star, 		721
And claim their standards back from Parthia's hosts afar.


LXXXII .   Twain are the Gates of War, to dreadful Mars
With awe kept sacred and religious pride.
A hundred brazen bolts and iron bars
Shut fast the doors, and Janus stands beside.
Here, when the senators on war decide,
The Consul, decked in his Quirinal pall
And Gabine cincture, flings the portals wide,
And cries to arms; the warriors, one and all, 		730
With blare of brazen horns make answer to the call.


LXXXIII .   'Twas thus that now Latinus they require
To dare Æneas' followers to the fray,
And ope the portals. But the good old Sire
Shrank from the touch, and, shuddering with dismay,
Shunned the foul office, and abjured the day.
Then, downward darting from the skies afar,
Heaven's empress with her right hand wrenched away
The lingering bars. The grating hinges jar, 		739
As back Saturnia thrusts the iron gates of War.


LXXXIV .   Then woke Ausonia from her sleep. Forth swarm
Footmen and horsemen, and in wild career
Whirl up the dust. "Arm," cry the warriors, "arm!"
With unctuous lard their polished shields they smear,
And whet the axe, and scour the rusty spear.
Their banners wave, their trumpets sound the fight.
Five towns their anvils for the war uprear,
Crustumium, Tibur, glorying in her might, 		748
Ardea, Atina strong, Antemnæ's tower-girt height.


LXXXV .   Lithe twigs of osier in their shields they weave,
And shape the casque, and in the mould prepare
The brazen breastplate and the silver greave.
Scorned lie the spade, the sickle and the share,
Their fathers' falchions to the forge they bear.
Now peals the clarion; through the host hath spread
The watch-word. Helmets from the walls they tear,
And yoke the steeds. In triple gold arrayed, 		757
Each grasps the burnished shield, and girds the trusty blade.


LXXXVI .   Now open Helicon; awake the strain,
Ye Muses. Aid me, that the tale be told,
What kings were roused, what armies filled the plain,
What battles blazed, what men of valiant mould
Graced fair Italia in those days of old.
Aid ye, for ye are goddesses, and clear
Can ye remember, and the tale unfold.
But faint and feeble is the voice we hear, 		766
A slender breath of Fame, that falters on the ear.


LXXXVII .   First came with armed men from Etruria's coast
Mezentius, scorner of the Gods. Next came
His son, young Lausus, comeliest of the host,
Save Turnus—Lausus, who the steed could tame,
And quell wild beasts and track the woodland game.
A hundred warriors from Agylla's town
He leads—ah vainly! though he died with fame.
Proud had he been and worthy to have known 		775
A nobler sire's commands, a nobler sire to own.


LXXXVIII .   With conquering steeds triumphant o'er the mead,
His chariot, crowned with palm-leaves, proudly wheeled
The comely Aventinus, glorious seed
Of glorious Hercules; the blazoned shield
His father's Hydra and her snakes revealed.
Him, when of old, the monstrous Geryon slain,
The lord of Tiryns, victor of the field,
Reached in his wanderings the Laurentian plain, 		784
And bathed in Tiber's stream the captured herds of Spain,


LXXXIX .   The priestess Rhea, in the secret shade
Of wooded Aventine, brought forth to light,
A god commingling with a mortal maid.
With pikes and poles his followers join the fight,
Their swords are sharp, their Sabine spears are bright.
Himself afoot, a lion's bristling hide
With sharp teeth set in rows of glittering white,
Swings o'er his forehead, as with eager stride, 		793
Clad in his father's cloak, he seeks the monarch's side.


XC .   Twin brothers came from Tibur—such the name
Tiburtus gave it—one Catillus hight,
And one fierce Coras, each of Argive fame,
Each in the van, where deadliest raves the fight.
As when two cloud-born Centaurs in their might
From some tall mountain with swift strides descend,
Steep Homole, or Othrys' snow-capt height;
The thickets yield, trees crash, and branches bend, 		802
As with resistless force the trampled woods they rend.


XCI .   Nor lacked Præneste's founder, Vulcan's child,
Found on the hearthstone—if the tale be true,—
Brave Cæculus, the Shepherds' monarch styled.
Forth from Præneste swarmed the rustic crew,
From Juno's Gabium to the fight they flew,
From ice-cold Anio, swoln with wintry rain,
From Hernic rocks, which mountain streams bedew,
From fat Anagnia's pastures, from the plain 		811
Where Amasenus rolls majestic to the main.


XCII .   With diverse arms they hasten to the war;
Not all can boast the clashing of the shield,
Not all the thunder of the rattling car.
These sling their leaden bullets o'er the field,
Those in each hand the deadly javelin wield.
With caps of fur their rugged brows are dight,
The tawny covering from the dark wolf peeled;
Bare is the left foot, as they march to fight, 		820
And, rough with raw bull's-hide, a sandal guards the right.


XCIII .   Next came Messapus, tamer of the steed,
Great Neptune's son. Fire nor the steel's sharp stroke
Could lay him lifeless, so the Fates decreed.
Grasping his sword, a laggard race he woke,
Disused to war, and tardy to provoke.
Behind him throng Fescennia's ranks to fight,
Men from Flavinia, and Faliscum's folk,
And those whom fair Capena's groves delight, 		829
Ciminius' mount and lake, and steep Soracte's height.


XCIV .   With measured tramp, their monarch's praise they sing,
Like snowy swans, the liquid clouds among,
Which homeward from their feeding ply the wing,
When o'er Caÿster's marish, loud and long,
The echoes float of their melodious song.
None, sure, such countless multitudes would deem
The mail-clad warriors of an armèd throng:
Nay, rather, like a dusky cloud they seem 		838
Of sea-fowl, landward driven with many a hoarse-voiced scream.


XCV .   Lo, Clausus next; a mighty host he led,
Himself a host. From Sabine sires he came,
And Latium thence the Claudian house o'erspread,
When Romans first with Sabines dared to claim
Coequal lordship and a share of fame.
With Amiternus came Eretum's band;
From fair Velinus' dewy fields they came,
From olive-crowned Mutusca, from the land 		847
Where proud Nomentum's towers the fruitful plains command.


XCVI .   From the rough crags of Tetrica came down
Her hosts; they came from tall Severus' flank,
From Foruli and fam'd Casperia's town,
Wash'd by Himella's waves, and those who drank
Of Fabaris, or dwelt on Tiber's bank.
Those, too, whom Nursia sendeth from the snows,
And Horta's sons, in many an ordered rank,
And tribes of Latin origin, and those 		856
Between whose parted fields th' ill-omened Allia flows.


XCVII .   As roll the billows on the Libyan deep,
When fierce Orion in the wintry main
Sinks, dark with tempests, and the waves upleap;
As, parched with suns of summer, stands the grain
On Hermus' fields, or Lycia's golden plain;
So countless swarm the multitudes around
Bold Clausus, and the wide air rings again
With echoes, as their clashing shields resound, 		865
And with the tramp of feet they shake the trembling ground.


XCVIII .   There Agamemnon's kinsman yokes his steeds,
Halæsus. Trojans were his foes, his friend
Was Turnus. Lo, a thousand tribes he leads;
Those who on Massic hills the vineyards tend,
Those whom Auruncans from their mountains send.
From Sidicinum and her neighbouring plain,
From Cales, from Volturnus' shoals they wend.
From steep Saticulum the sturdy swain, 		874
Fierce for the fray, comes down and joins the Oscan train.


XCIX .   Light barbs they fling, from pliant thongs of hide,
A leathern target o'er the left is strung,
And short, curved daggers the close fight decide.
Nor, OEbalus, those gallant hosts among,
Shalt thou go nameless, and thy praise unsung,
Thou, from old Telon, as the tale hath feigned,
And beauteous Sebethis, the wood-nymph, sprung,
O'er Teleboan Caprea when he reigned; 		883
But Caprea's narrow realm proud OEbalus disdained.


C .   Far stretched his rule; Sarrastians owned his sway,
And they, whose lands the Sarnian waters drain,
And they, who till Celenna's fields, and they
Whom Batulum and Rufræ's walls contain,
And where through apple-orchards o'er the plain
Shines fair Abella. Deftly can they wield
Their native arms; the Teuton's lance they strain;
Bark helmets guard them, from the cork-tree peeled, 		892
And brazen are their swords, and brazen every shield.


CI .   From Nersa's hills, by prosperous arms renowned,
Comes Ufens, with his Æquians, in array.
Rude huntsmen these; in arms the stubborn ground
They till, themselves as stubborn. Day by day
They snatch fresh plunder, and they live by prey.
There, too, brave Umbro, of Marruvian fame,
Sent by his king Archippus, joins the fray.
Around his helmet, for in arms he came, 		901
The auspicious olive's leaves the sacred priest proclaim.


CII .   The rank-breath'd Hydra and the viper's rage
With hand and voice he lulled asleep; his art
Their bite could heal, their fury could assuage.
Alas! no medicine can heal the smart
Wrought by the griding of the Dardan dart.
Nor Massic herbs, nor slumberous charms avail
To cure the wound, that rankles in his heart.
Ah, hapless! thee Anguitia's bowering vale, 		910
Thee Fucinus' clear waves and liquid lakes bewail!


CIII .   Next came to war Hippolytus' fair child,
The comely Virbius, whom Aricia bore
Amid Egeria's grove, where rich and mild
Stands Dian's altar on the meadowy shore.
For when (Fame tells) Hippolytus of yore
Was slain, the victim of a stepdame's spite,
And, torn by frightened horses, quenched with gore
His father's wrath, famed Pæon's herbs of might 		919
And Dian's fostering love restored him to the light.


CIV .   Wroth then was Jove, that one of mortal clay
Should rise by mortal healing from the grave,
And change the nether darkness for the day,
And him, whose leechcraft thus availed to save,
Hurled with his lightning to the Stygian wave.
But kind Diana, in her pitying love,
Concealed her darling in a secret cave,
And fair Egeria nursed him in her grove, 		928
Far from the view of men, and wrath of mighty Jove.


CV .   There, changed in name to Virbius, but to fame
Unknown, through life in Latin woods he strayed.
Thenceforth, in memory of the deed of shame,
No horn-hoof'd steeds are suffered to invade
Chaste Trivia's temple or her sacred glade,
Since, scared by Ocean's monsters, from his car
They dashed him by the deep. Yet, undismayed,
His son, young Virbius, o'er the plains afar 		937
The fleet-horsed chariot drives, and hastens to the war.


CVI .   High in the forefront towered with stately frame
Turnus himself. His three-plumed helmet bore
A dragon fierce, that breathed Ætnean flame.
The bloodier waxed the battle, so the more
Its fierceness blazed, the louder was its roar.
Behold, the heifer on his shield, the sign
Of Io's fate; there Argus ever o'er
The virgin watches, and the stream doth shine, 		946
Poured from the pictured urn of Inachus divine.


CVII .   Next come the shielded footmen in a cloud,
Auruncan bands, Sicanians famed of yore,
Argives, Rutulians, and Sacranians proud.
Their painted shields the brave Labicians bore;
From Tibur's glades, from blest Numicia's shore,
From Circe's mount, from where great Jove presides
O'er Anxur, from Feronia's grove they pour,
From Satura's dark pool, where Ufens glides 		955
Cold through the deepening vales, and mingles with the tides.


CVIII .   Last came Camilla, with the Volscian bands,
Fierce horsemen, each in glittering arms bedight,
A warrior-virgin; ne'er her tender hands
Had plied the distaff; war was her delight,
Her joy to race the whirlwind and to fight.
Swift as the breeze, she skimmed the golden grain,
Nor bent the tapering wheatstalks in her flight,
So swift, the billows of the heaving main 		964
Touched not her flying fleet, she scoured the watery plain.


CIX .   Forth from each field and homestead, hurrying, throng,
With wonder, men and matrons, young and old,
And greet the maiden as she moves along.
Entranced with greedy rapture, they behold
Her royal scarf, in many a purple fold,
Float o'er her shining shoulders, and her hair
Bound in a coronal of clasping gold,
Her Lycian quiver, and her pastoral spear 		973
Of myrtle, tipt with steel, and her, the maid, how fair!

BOOK EIGHT

ARGUMENT

Mustering of Italians, and embassage to Diomedes (1-18). Tiber in a dream heartens Æneas and directs him to Evander for succour. Æneas sacrifices the white sow and her litter to Juno, and reaches Evander's city Pallanteum—the site of Rome (19-117). Æneas and Evander meet and feast together. The story of Cacus and the praises of Hercules are told and sung. Evander shows his city to Æneas (118-432). Venus asks and obtains from Vulcan divine armour for her son (433-531). At daybreak Evander promises Æneas further succour. Their colloquy is interrupted by a sign from heaven (532-630). Despatches are sent to Ascanius and prayers for aid to the Tuscans. Æneas, his men and Evander's son Pallas are sent forth by Evander with prayers for their success (631-720). Venus brings to Æneas the armour wrought by Vulcan (721-738). Virgil describes the shield, on which are depicted, not only the trials and triumphs of Rome's early kings and champions, but the final conflict also at Actium between East and West and the world-wide empire of Augustus (739-846).


I .   When Turnus from Laurentum's tower afar
Signalled the strife, and bade the war-horns bray,
And stirred the mettled steeds, and woke the war,
Hearts leaped at once; all Latium swore that day
The oath of battle, burning for the fray.
Messapus, Ufens, and Mezentius vain,
Who scorned the Gods, ride foremost. Far away
They scour the fields; the shepherd and the swain 		1
Rush to the war, and bare of ploughmen lies the plain.


II .   To Diomed posts Venulus, to crave
His aid, and tell how Teucrians hold the land;
Æneas with his gods hath crossed the wave,
And claims the throne his vaunted Fates demand.
How many a tribe hath joined the Dardan's band,
How spreads his fame through Latium. What the foe
May purpose next, what conquest he hath planned,
Should friendly fortune speed the coming blow, 		10
Better than Latium's king Ætolia's lord must know.


III .   So Latium fares. Æneas, tost with tides
Of thought, for well he marked the growing fight,
This way and that his eager mind divides,
Reflects, revolves and ponders on his plight.
As waters in a brazen urn flash bright,
Smit by the sunbeam or the moon's pale rays,
And round the chamber flits the trembling light,
And darts aloft, and on the ceiling plays, 		19
So many a varying mood his anxious mind displays.


IV .   'Twas night; the tired world rested. Far and nigh
All slept, the cattle and the fowls of air.
Stretched on a bank, beneath the cold, clear sky,
Lay good Æneas, fain at length to share
Late slumber, troubled by the war with care.
When, 'twixt the poplars, where the fair stream flows,
With azure mantle, and with sedge-crowned hair,
The aged Genius of the place uprose, 		28
And, standing by, thus spake, and comforted his woes:


V .   "Blest seed of Heaven! who from the foemen's hand
Our Troy dost bring, and to an endless date
Preservest Pergama; whom Latium's land
Hath looked for, and Laurentum's fields await,
Here, doubt not, are thy homegods, here hath Fate
Thy home decreed. Let not war's terrors seem
To daunt thee. Heaven is weary of its hate;
Its storms are spent. Distrust not, nor esteem 		37
These words of idle worth, the coinage of a dream.


VI .   "Hard by, beneath yon oak-trees, thou shalt see
A huge, white swine, and, clustering around
Her teats, are thirty young ones, white as she.
There shall thy labour with repose be crown'd,
Thy city set. There Alba's walls renowned,
When twice ten times hath rolled the circling year,
Called Alba Longa, shall Ascanius found.
Sure stands the word; and now attend and hear, 		46
How best through present straits a prosperous course to steer.


VII .   "Arcadians here, a race of old renown,
From Pallas sprung, with king Evander came,
And on the hill-side built a chosen town,
Called Pallanteum, from their founder's name.
Year after year they ply the war's rude game
With Latins. Go, and win them to thy side,
Bid them as fellows to thy camp, and frame
A league. Myself along the banks will guide, 		55
And teach thy labouring oars to mount the opposing tide.


VIII .   "Rise, Goddess-born, and, when the stars decline,
Pray first to Juno, and on bended knee
Subdue her wrath with supplication. Mine
Shall be the victor's homage; I am he,
Heaven's favoured stream, whose brimming waves ye see,
Borne in full flood these flowery banks between,
Chafe the fat soil and cleave the fruitful lea,
Blue Tiber. Here my dwelling shall be seen, 		64
Fairest of lofty towns, the world's majestic queen."


IX .   So saying, the Stream-god dived beneath the flood,
And sought the deep. Slumber at once and night
Forsook Æneas; he arose, and stood,
And eastward gazing at the dawning light,
Scooped up the stream, obedient to the rite,
And prayed, "O nymphs, Laurentian nymphs, whence spring
All rivers; father Tiber, blest and bright,
Receive Æneas as your own, and bring 		73
Peace to his toil-worn heart, and shield the Dardan king.


X .   "What pool soever holds thy source, where'er
The soil, from whence thou leapest to the day
In loveliness, these grateful hands shall bear
Due gifts, these lips shall hallow thee for aye,
Horned river, whom Hesperian streams obey,
Whose pity cheers; be with us, I entreat,
Confirm thy purpose, and thy power display."
He spake, and chose two biremes from the fleet, 		82
Equipped with oars, and rigged with crews and arms complete.


XI .   Lo! now a portent, wondrous to be seen.
Stretched at full length along the bank, they view
The fateful swine, conspicuous on the green,
White, with her litter of the self-same hue.
Her good Æneas, as an offering due,
To Juno, mightiest of all powers divine,
Yea, e'en to thee, dread Juno, caught and slew,
And lit the altars and outpoured the wine, 		91
And left the dam and brood together at the shrine.


XII .   All night the Tiber stayed his swelling flood,
And with hushed wave, recoiling from the main,
Calm as some pool or quiet lake, he stood
And smoothed his waters like a liquid plain,
That not an oar should either strive or strain.
Thus on they go; smooth glides the bark of pine,
Borne with glad shouts; and ever and again
The woods and waters wonder, as the line 		100
Of painted keels goes by, with arms of glittering shine.


XIII .   All night and day outwearying, they steer
Up the long reaches, through the groves, that lie
With green trees shadowing the tranquil mere.
Now flamed the sun in the meridian high,
When walls afar and citadel they spy,
And scattered roofs. Where now the power of Rome
Hath made her stately structures mate the sky,
Then poor and lowly stood Evander's home. 		109
Thither their prows are turned, and to the town they come.


XIV .   That day, Arcadia's monarch, in a grove
Before the town, a solemn feast had planned
To Hercules and all the gods above.
His son, young Pallas, and a youthful band,
And humble senators around him stand,
Each offering incense, and the warm, fresh blood
Still smokes upon the shrines, when, hard at hand,
They see the tall ships, through the shadowy wood, 		118
Glide up with silent oars along the sacred flood.


XV .   Scared by the sudden sight, all quickly rise
And quit the board. But Pallas, bold of cheer,
Bids them not break the worship. Forth he flies
To meet the strangers, as their ships appear,
His right hand brandishing a glittering spear.
"Gallants," he hails them from a mound afar,
"What drove you hither by strange ways to steer?
Say whither wending? who and what ye are? 		127
Your kin, and where your home? And bring ye peace or war?"


XVI .   Then sire Æneas from the stern outheld
A branch of olive, and bespake him fair:
"Troy's sons ye see, by Latin pride expelled.
'Gainst Latin enemies these arms we bear.
We seek Evander. Go, the news declare:
Choice Dardan chiefs his friendship come to claim.
His aid we ask for, and his arms would share."
He ceased, and wonder and amazement came 		136
On Pallas, struck with awe to hear the mighty name.


XVII .   "Whoe'er thou art, hail, stranger," he replied,
"Step forth, and to my father tell thy quest,
And take the welcome that true hearts provide."
Forth as he leaped, the Dardan's hand he pressed,
And, pressing, held it, and embraced his guest.
So from the river through the grove they fare,
And reach the place, where, feasting with the rest,
They find Evander. Him with speeches fair 		145
Æneas hails, and hastes his errand to declare.


XVIII .   "O best of Greeks, whom thus with olive bough
Hath Fortune willed me to entreat; yet so
I shunned thee not, albeit Arcadian thou,
A Danaan leader, in whose veins doth flow
The blood of Atreus, and my country's foe.
My conscious worth, our ties of ancestry,
Thy fame, which rumour through the world doth blow,
And Heaven's own oracles, by Fate's decree, 		154
My willing steps have led, and link my heart, to thee.


XIX .   "Troy's founder, Dardanus, to the Teucrians came,
Child of Electra, so the Greeks declare.
Huge Atlas was Electra's sire, the same
Whose shoulders still the starry skies upbear.
Your sire is Mercury, whom Maia fair
On chill Cyllene's summit bore of old;
And Maia's sire, if aught of truth we hear,
Was Atlas, he who doth the spheres uphold. 		163
Thus from a single stock the double stems unfold.


XX .   "Trusting to this, no embassy I sent,
No arts employed, thy purpose to explore.
Myself, my proper person, I present,
And stand a humble suppliant at thy door.
Thy foes are ours, the Daunian race, and sore
They grind us. If they drive us hence, they say,
Their conquering arms shall stretch from shore to shore.
Plight we our troth; strong arms are ours to-day, 		172
Stout hearts, and manhood proved in many a hard essay."


XXI .   He ceased. Long while Evander marked with joy
His face and eyes, and scanned through and through,
Then spake: "O bravest of the sons of Troy!
What joy to greet thee; thine the voice, the hue,
The face of great Anchises, whom I knew.
Well I remember, how, in days forepast,
Old Priam came to Salamis, to view
His sister's realms, Hesione's, and passed 		181
To far Arcadia, chilled with many a Northern blast.