Descending thence, I 'scape through foes and fire) Before the goddess, foes and flames retire.

Arriv'd at home, he, for whose only sake, desA

Or most for his, such toils I undertake

1

The good Anchises-whom, by timely flight, 860
I purpos'd to secure on Ida's height-
Refus'd the journey, resolute to die,

And add his fun'rals to the fate of Troy,
Rather than exile and old age sustain.

"Go you, whose blood runs warm in ev'ry vein. 865 Had heav'n decreed that I should life enjoy, Heav'n had decreed to save unhappy Troy.

'Tis, sure, enough, if not too much, for one, Twice to have seen our Ilium overthrown.

1

Make haste to save the poor remaining crew; 870
And give this useless corps a long adieu.

These weak old hands suffice to stop my breath:
At least the pitying foes will aid my death,

To take my spoils, and leave my body bare:
As for my sepulcre, let heav'n take care.
'Tis long since I, for my celestial wife,

875

Loath'd by the gods, have dragg'd a ling'ring life; Since ev'ry hour and moment I expire,

Blasted from heav'n by Jove's avenging fire."

This oft repeated, he stood fixt to die:

Myself, my wife, my son, my family,

880

Entreat, pray, beg, and raise a doleful cry— "What! will he still persist, on death resolve, And in his ruin all his house involve??.

He still persists his reasons to maintain;

I

885

Our pray'rs, our tears, our loud laments, are vain. Urg'd by despair, again I go to try

The fate of arms, resolv'd in fight to die.

What hope remains, but what my death must give? "Can I, without so dear a father, live?

You term it prudence, what I baseness call:
Could such a word from such a parent fall?
If Fortune please, and so the gods ordain,
That nothing should of ruin'd Troy remain,
And you conspire with Fortune, to be slain;

890

895

The way to death is wide, th' approaches near:
For soon relentless Pyrrhus will appear,
Recking with Priam's blood-the wretch who slew
The son (inhuman) in the father's view,
And then the sire himself to the dire altar drew. 900

O goddess mother! give me back to Fate;

Your gift was undesir'd, and came too late.
Did you, for this, unhappy me convey

Through foes and fires, to see my house a prey?
Shall I my father, wife, and son, behold,
Welt'ring in blood, each other's arms infold?

905

A

Haste! gird my sword, though spent, and overcome:

"Tis the last summons to receive our doom.
I hear thee, Fate! and I obey thy call!
Not unreveng'd the foe shall see my fall.
Restore me to the yet unfinish'd fight:

910

My death is wanting, to conclude the night."
Arm'd once again, my glitt'ring sword I wield,

While th' other hand sustains my weighty shield;
And forth I rush to seek th' abandon'd field.

I went; but sad Creüsa stopp'd my way,
And 'cross the threshold in my passage lay,

915

Embrac'd my knees, and, when I would have gone, Shew'd me my feeble sire, and tender son. "If death be your design—at least," said she, 920 "Take us along, to share your destiny.

If any farther hopes in arms remain,

924

This place, these pledges of your love, maintain.
To whom do you expose your father's life,
Your son's, and mine, your now forgotten wife?"
While thus she fills the house with clam'rous cries,
Our hearing is diverted by our eyes:

For, while I held my son, in the short space
Betwixt our kisses and our last embrace,
(Strange to relate!) from young Iülus' head
A lambent flame arose, which gently spread
Around his brows, and on his temples fed.
Amaz'd, with running water we prepare

930

To quench the sacred fire, and slake his hair;
But old Anchises, vers'd in omens, rear'd

His hands to heav'n, and this request preferr'd:
"If any vows, almighty Jove, can bend

Thy will-if piety can pray'rs commend

935

Confirm the glad presage which thou art pleas'd to

send."

Scarce had he said, when, on our left, we hear 940
A peal of rattling thunder roll in air:

There shot a streaming lamp along the sky,
Which on the winged lightning seem'd to fly:
From o'er the roof the blaze began to move,
And, trailing, vanish'd in th' Idæan grove.
It swept a path in heav'n, and shone a guide,
Then in a steaming stench of sulphur died.

945

949

The good old man with suppliant hands implor'd The gods' protection, and their star ador'd. "Now, now," said he, "my son, no more delay! I yield, I follow where heav'n shews the way. Keep (O my country gods!) our dwelling-place, And guard this relique of the Trojan race, This tender child!-These omens are your own; And you can yet restore the ruin'd town.

955

At least accomplish what your signs foreshow:

I stand resign'd, and am prepar'd to go.'

He said.The crackling flames appear on high;

And driving sparkles dance along the sky.

With Vulcan's rage the rising winds conspire, 960 And near our palace roll the flood of fire.

"Haste, my dear father! ('tis no time to wait)

And load

my shoulders with a willing freight. Whate'er befalls, your life shall be my care: One death, or one deliv'rance, we will share. 965 My hand shall lead our little son; and you, My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue. Next, you, my servants, heed my strict commands: Without the walls a ruin'd temple stands, To Ceres hallow'd once: a cypress nigh

970

975

Shoots up her venerable head on high,
By long religion kept: there bend your feet;
And in divided parties let us meet.
Our country gods, the reliques, and the bands,
Hold you, my father, in your guiltless hands:
In me 'tis impious, holy things to bear,
Red as I am with slaughter, new from war,
Till in some living stream I cleanse the guilt
Of dire debate, and blood in battle spilt."
Thus ord'ring all that prudence could provide, 980
I clothe my shoulders with a lion's hide,

And yellow spoils; then, on my bending back,

The welcome load of my dear father take;
While on my better hand Ascanius hung,