« PreviousContinue »
erown. Turnus, being in love with her, fa- | voured by her mother, and stirred up by Juno and Alecto, breaks the treaty which was made, and engages in his quarrel Mezentius, Camilla, Messapus, and many other of the neighbouring princes; whose forces, and the names of their commanders, are particularly related.
AND thou, O matron of immortal fame!
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;
Cajeta still the place is called from thee,
The nurse of great Æneas' infancy.
Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains,
Thy name ('tis all a ghost can have) remains.
Now, when the prince her funeral rites had paid,
He plough'd the Tyrrhene seas with sails display'd.
From land a gentle breeze arose by night,
Serenely shone the stars, the Moon was bright,
And the sea trembled with her silver light.
Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run,
(Circe the rich, the daughter of the Sun)
A dangerous coast: the goddess wastes her days
In joyous songs. the rocks resound her lays:
Iu spinning, or the loom, she spends the night,
And cedar brands supply her father's light.
From hence were heard (rebellowing to the main)
The roars of lions that refuse the chain,
The grunts of bristled boars; and groans of bears, And herds of howling wolves, that stun the sailors'
These from their caverns, at the close of night, Fill the sad isle with horrour and affright. Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe's power (That watch'd the Moon, and planetary hour) With words and wicked herbs, from human kind Had alter'd, and in wicked shapes confin'd. Which monsters, lest the Trojan pious host Should bear or touch upon th' enchanted coast: Propitious Neptune steer'd their course by night, With rising gales, that sped their happy flight. Supply'd with these, they skim the sounding shore, And hear the swelling surges vainly roar. Now when the rosy Morn began to rise, And weav'd her saffron streamer through the skies; When Thetis blush'd in purple, not her own, And from her face the breathing winds are blown, A sudden silence sat upon the sea, And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way. The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, Which thick with shades and a brown horrour stood: Betwixt the trees the Tiber took his course, With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force That drove the sand along, he took his way, And roll'a his yellow billows to the sea. About him, and above, and round the wood, The birds that haunt the borders of his flood; That bath'd within, or bask'd upon his side, To tuneful songs their narrow throats apply'd, The captain gives command; the joyful train Glide thro' the gloomy shade, and leave the main, Now, Erato, thy poet's mind inspire, And fill his soul with thy celestial fire. Relate what Latium was: her ancient kings: Declare the past, and present state of things: When first the Trojan fleet Ausonia sought; And how the rivals lov'd, and how they fought, These are my theme, and how the war began, And how concluded by the godlike man.
For I shall sing of battles, blood, and rage,
Which princes and their people did engage.
And haughty souls, that, mov'd with mutual
In fighting fields pursu’d and found their fate:
That rous'd the Tyrrhene realm with loud alarmns,
And peaceful Italy involv'd in arms.
A larger scene of action is display'd,
And, rising hence, a greater work is weigh'd.
Latinus, old and mild, had long possess'd
The Latian sceptre, and his people bless'd:
His father Faunus; a Laurentian dame
His mother, fair Marica was her name.
But Faunus came from Picus, Picus drew
His birth from Saturn, if records be true.
Thus king Latinus, in the third degree,
Had Saturn author of his family.
But this old peaceful prince, as Heaven decreed,
Was bless'd with no male issue to succeed:
His sons in blooming youth were snatch'd by fate:
One only daughter heir'd the royal state.
Fir'd with her love, and with ambition led,
The neighbouring princes court her nuptial bed
Among the crowd, but far above the rest,
Young Turnus to the beauteous maid address'd.
Turnus, for high descent and graceful mien,
Was first, and favour'd by the Latian queen:
With him she strove to join Lavinia's hand;
But dire portents the purpos'd match withstand.
Deep in the palace, of long growth, there stood-
A laurel's trunk, a venerable wood;
Where rites divine were paid; whose holy hair
Was kept, and cut with superstitious care.
This plant Latinus, when his town he wall'd,
Then found, and from the tree Laurentum call'd ;
And last, in honour of his new abode,
He vow'd the laurel to the laurel's god,
It happen'd once (a boding prodigy)
A swarm of bees that cut the liquid sky,
Unknown from whence they took their airy flight,
Upon the topmast branch in clouds alight:
There, with their clasping feet together clung,
And a long cluster from the laurel hung.
An ancient augur prophesy'd from hence:
"Behold on Latian shores a foreign prince!
From the same parts of Heaven his navy stands,
To the same parts on Earth: his army lands;
The town he conquers, and the tower commands,'
Yet more, when fair Lavinia fed the fire
Before the gods, and stood beside her sire;
Strange to relate, the flames involv'd the smoke
Of incense, from the sacred altar broke:
Caught her dishevell'd hair and rich attire;
Her crowns and jewels crackled in the fire:
From thence the fuming trail began to spread,
And lambent glories danc'd about her head.
This new portent the seer with wonder views;
Then pausing, thus his prophecy renews:
"The nymph who scatters flaming fires around
Shall shine with honour, shall herself be crown'd;
But, caus'd by her irrevocable fate,
War shall the country waste, and change the state."
Latinus, frighted with this dire ostent,
For counsel to his father Faunus went :
And sought the shades renown'd for prophecy,
Which near Albunea's sulphurous fountain lie.
To those the Latian and the Sabine land
Fly, when distress'd, and thence relief demand..
The priest on skins of offerings takes his ease;
And nightly visions in his slumber sees:
A swarm of thin aërial shapes appears,
And, fluttering round his temples, deafs his ears:
These he consults, the future fates to know,
From powers above, and from the fiends below.
Here, for the god's advice, Latinus flies,
Offering a hundred sheep for sacrifice:
Their woolly fleeces, as the rites requir'd,
He laid beneath him, and to rest retir'd.
No sooner were his eyes in slumber bound,
When, from above, a more than mortal sound
Invades his ears: and thus the 'vision spoke :
"Seek not, my seed, in Latian bands to yoke
Our fair Lavinia, nor the gods provoke.
A foreign son upon the shore descends,
Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends.
His race in arms, and arts of peace renown'd,
Not Latium shali contain, nor Europe bound:
'Tis theirs whate'er the Sun surveys around."
These answers, in the silent night receiv'd,
The king himself divulg'd, the land believ'd:
The fame thro' all the neighbouring nations flew,
When now the Trojan navy was in view.
Beneath a shady tree the hero spread
His table on the turf, with cakes of bread;
And, with his chiefs, on forest fruits be fed.
They sat, and (not without the god's command)
Their homely fare dispatch'd: the hungry band
Invade their trenchers next, and soon devour,
To mend the scanty meal, their cakes of flour.
Ascanius this observ'd, änd, smiling, said,
"See, we devour the plates on which we fed !"
This speech had omen, that the Trojan race
Should find repose, and this the time and place.
Eneas took the word, and thus replies:
(Confessing fate with wonder in his eyes)
When next the rosy Morn disclos'd the day, The scouts to several parts divide their way, To learn the natives' names, their towns, explore The coast, and treadings of the crooked shore: Here Tiber flows, and here Numicus stands, Here warlike Latins hold the happy lands.
The pious chief, who sought by peaceful ways To found his empire, and his town to raise, A hundred youths from all his train selects, And to the Latian court their course directs (The spacious palace where the prince resides :) And all their heads with wreaths of olives hides. They go commission'd to require a peace; And carry presents to procure success. Thus while they speed their pace, the prince designs The new-elected seat, and draws the lines: The Trojans round the place a rampart cast, And palisades about the trenches plac'd.
Meantime the train, proceeding on their way, From far the town, and lofty towers, survey: At length approach the walls: without the gate They see the boys and Latian youth debate The martial prizes on the dusty plain: Some drive the cars, and some the coursers rein; Some bend the stubborn bough for victory: And some with darts their active sinews try. A posting messenger dispatch'd from hence, Of this fair troop, advis'd their aged prince; That foreign men, of mighty stature, came; Uncouth their habit, and unknown their name. The king ordains their entrance, and ascends His regal seat, surrounded by his friends. The palace built by Picus, vast and proud, Supported by a hundred pillars stood ! And round encompass'd with a rising wood.
"All hail, O Earth! all hail, my household gods! The pile o'erlook'd the town, and drew the sight,
Behold the destin'd place of your abodes!
For thus Anchises prophesy'd of old,
And this our fatal place of rest foretold.
• When on a foreign shore, instead of meat,
By famine forc'd, your trenchers you shall eat,
Then ease your weary Trojans will attend:
And the long labours of your voyage end.
Remember on that happy coast to build :
And with a trench enclose the fruitful field.'
This was that famine, this the fatal place,
Which ends the wandering of our exil'd race.
Then, on to morrow's dawn, your care employ
To search the land, and where the cities lie,
And what the men: but give this day to joy.
Now pour to Jove, and after Jove is blest,
Call great Anchises to the genial feast:
Crown high the goblets with a cheerful draught;
Enjoy, the present hour; adjourn the future
Thus having said, the hero bound his brows
With leafy branches, then perform'd his vows:
Adoring first the genius of the place,
Then Earth, the mother of the heavenly race;
The nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown,
And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable
And ancient Cybel, and Idæan Jove; [throne:
And last his sire below, and mother queen above.
Then Heaven's high monarch thunder'd thrice
And thrice he shook aloft a golden cloud.
Soon through the joyful camp a rumour flew :
The time was come their city to renew :
Then every brow with cheerful green is crown'd,
The feasts are doubled, and the bowls go round.
Surpris'd at once with reverence and delight.
There kings receiv'd the marks of sovereign power:
In state the monarch march'd, the lictors bore
Their awful axes, and the rods before.
Here the tribunal stood, the house of prayer;
And here the sacred senators repair;
All at large tables, in long order set,
A ram their offering, and a ram their meat.
Above the portal, carv'd in cedar wood,
Plac'd in their ranks, their godlike grandsires stood.
Old Saturn, with his crooked scythe, on high;
And Italus, that led the colony:
And ancient Janus, with his double face,
And bunch of keys, the porter of the place.
There stood Sabinus, planter of the vines;
On a short pruning-hook his head reclines:
And studiously surveys his generous wines.
Then warlike kings, who for their country fought,
And honourable wounds from battle brought.
Around the posts hung belmets, darts, and spears,
And captive chariots, axes, shields, and bars,
And broken beaks of ships, the trophies of their
Above the rest, as chief of all the band,
Was Picus plac'd, a buckler in his hand;
His other way'd a long-divining wand.
Girt in his gabin gown the hero sat:
Yet could not with his art avoid his fate.
For Circe long had lov'd the youth in vain,
Till love, refus'd, converted to disdain:
Then mixing powerful herbs, with magic art,
She changed his form, who could not change his
Constrain❜d him in a bird, and made him fly, With party-colour'd plumes, a chattering py
In this high temple, on a chair of state,
The seat of audience, old Latinus sat;
Then gave admission to the Trojan train,
And thus, with pleasing accents, he began :
"Tell me, ye Trojans, for that name you own;
Nor is your course upon our coasts unknown;
Say what you seek, and whither were you bound?
Were you by stress of weather cast a-ground?
Such dangers of the sea are often seen,
And oft befal to miserable men.
Or come, your shipping in our ports to lay,
Spent and disabled in so long a way?
Say what you want; the Latians you shall find
Not fore'd to goodness, but by will inclin'd ;
For since the time of Saturn's holy reign,
His hospitable customs we retain.
I call to mind (but time the tale has worn)
Th' Arunci told, that Dardanus, though born
On Latian plains, yet sought the Phrygian shore,
And Samothracia, Samos call'd before:
From Tuscan Coritum he claim'd his birth.
But after, when exempt from mortal earth,
From thence ascended to his kindred skies,
A god, and as a god augments their sacrifice."
He said. Ilioneus made this reply:
"O king, of Faunus' royal family!
Nor wintery winds to Latium fore'd our way,
Nor did the stars our wandering course betray.
Willing we sought your shores, and hither bound,
The port so long desir'd, at length we found.
From our sweet homes, and ancient realms ex-
Great as the greatest that the Sun beheld.
The god began our line, who rules above,
And as our race, our king descends from Jove:
And hither are we come, by his command,
To crave admission in your happy land.
How dire a tempest, from Mycenæ pour'd,
Our plains, our temples, and our town, devour'd ;
What was the waste of war, what dire alarms,
Shook Asia's crown with European arms!
Ev'n such have heard, if any such there be,
Whose earth is bounded by the frozen sea :
And such as, born beneath the burning sky
And sultry Sun, betwixt the tropics lie.
From that dire deluge, through the watery waste,
Such length of years, such various perils past:
At last escap'd, to Latium we repair,
To beg what you, without your want, may spare ;
The common water, and the common air.
Sheds which ourselves will build, and mean abodes,
Fit to receive and serve our banish'd gods.
Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace,
Nor length of time our gratitude efface.
Besides what endless honour you shall gain,
To save and shelter Troy's unhappy train!
Now, by my sovereign, and his fate, I swear,
Renown'd for faith in peace, for force in war;
Oft our alliance other lands desir'd,
And what we seek of you, of us requir'd.
Despise not then, that in our hands we bear
These holy boughs, and sue with words of prayer.
Fate and the gods, by their supreme command,
Have doom'd our ships to seek the Latian land.
To these abodes our fleet Apollo sends;
Here Dardanus was born, and hither tends,
Where Thuscan Tiber rolls with rapid force,
And where Numicus opes his holy source.
Besides, our prince presents, with his request,
Some small remains of what his sire possess'd.
This golden charger, [snatch'd from burning Troy,
Anchises did in sacrifice employ ;
This royal robe, and this tiara, wore
Old Priam, and this golden sceptre bore
In full assemblies, and in solemn games;
These purple vests were weav'd by Dardan dames."
Thus while he spoke, Latinus roll'd around
His eyes, and fix'd awhile upon the ground.
Intent he seem'd, and anxious in his breast;
Not by the sceptre mov'd, or kingly vest:
But pondering future things of wondrous weight:
Succession, empire, and his daughter's fate:
On these be mus'd within his thoughtful mind
And then resolv'd what Faunus had divin'd.
This was the foreign prince, by fate decreed
To share his sceptre, aud Lavinia's bed.
This was the race that sure portents foreshew
To sway the world, and land and sea subdue.
At length he rais'd his cheerful head, and spoke:
"The powers," said he, "the powers we both in-
Το you, and yours, and mine, propitious be, [voke,
And firm our purpose with their augury.
Have what you ask: your presents I receive;
Land where, and when you please, with ample
Partake and use my kingdom as your own; [leave;
It shall be yours, while I command the crown.
And if my wish'd alliance please your king,
Tell him he should not send the peace, but bring:
Then let him not a friend's embraces fear;
The peace is made when I behold him here.
Besides this answer, tell my royal guest,
I add to his commands my own request:
One only daughter heirs my crown and state,
Whom, not our oracles, nor He ven, nor fate,
Nor frequent prodigies, permit to join
With any native of th' Ausonian line.
A foreign son-in-law shall come from far,
(Such is our doom) a chief renown'd in war:
Whose race shall bear aloft the Latian name,
And thro' the conquer'd world diffuse our fame.
Himself to be the man the fates require,
I firmly judge, and what I judge, desire."
He said, and then on each bestow'd a steed;
Three hundred horses, in high stables fed,
Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dress'd: :
Of these he chose the fairest and the best,
To mount the Trojan troop; at his command,
The steeds caparison'd with purple stand :
With golden trappings, glorious to behold,
And champ, betwixt their teeth, the foaming gold.
Then to his absent guest the king decreed
A pair of coursers, born of heavenly breed:
Who from their nostrils breath'd ethereal fire;
Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire;
By substituting mares, produc'd on Earth,
Whose wombs conceiv'd a more than mortal birth.
These draw the chariot which Latinus sends;
And the rich present to the prince commends.
Sublime on stately steeds the Trojans borne,
To their expecting lord with peace return.
But jealous Juno, from Pachymus' height,
As she from Argos took her airy flight,
Beheld, with envious eyes, this hateful sight.
She saw the Trojan and his joyful train
Descend upon the shore, desert the main !
Design a town, and, with unhop'd success,
Th' embassadors return with promis'd peace.
Then, pierc'd with pain, she shook her haughty
Sigh'd from her inward soul, and thus she said:
"O hated offspring of my Phrygian foes!
O fate of Troy, which Juno's fates oppose!
Could they not fall, unpity'd, on the plain,
But slain revive, and taken, 'scape again?
When execrable Troy in ashes lay, [their way.
Through fires, and swords, and seas, they forc'd
Then vanquish'd Juno must in vain contend,
Her rage disarm'd, her empire at an end.
Breathless and tir'd, is all my fury spent,
Or does my glutted spleen at length relent?
As if 'twere little from their town to chase,
I through the seas pursued their exil'd race:
Engag'd the Heavens, oppos'd the stormy main;
But billows roar'd, and tempests rag'd in vain.
What have my Scyllas and my Syrtes done,
When these they overpass, and those they shun?
On Tiber's shores they land, secure of fate,
Triumphant o'er the storm's and Juno's hate.
Mars could in mutual blood the centaurs bathe,
And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath :
Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon :
What great offence had either people done?
But I, the consort of the thunderer,
Have wag'd a long and unsuccessful war:
With various arts and arms in vain have toil'd,
And by a mortal man at length am foil'd.
If native power prevail not, shall I doubt
To seek for needful succour from without?
If Jove and Heaven my just desires deny,
Hell shall the power of Heaven and Jove supply.
Grant that the fates have firm'd, by their decree,
The Trojan race to reign in Italy:
At least, I can defer the nuptial day,
And, with protracted wars, the peace delay:
With blood the dear alliance shall be bought;
And both the people near destruction brought.
So shall the son-in-law and father join,
With ruin, war, and waste of either line.
O fatal maid! thy marriage is endow'd
With Phrygian, Latian, and Rutilian blood!
Bellona leads thee to thy lover's hand,
Another queen brings forth another brand,
To burn with foreign fires her native land!
A second Paris, differing but in name,
Shall fire his country with a second flame."
Thus having said, she sinks beneath the ground
With furious haste, and shoots the Stygian sound;
To rouse Alecto from th' infernal seat
Of her dire sisters, and their dark retreat.
This fury, fit for her intent, she chose,
One who delights in wars, and human woes.
Ev'n Pluto hates his own mis-shapen race;
Her sister furies fly her hideous face:
So frightful are the forms the monster takes,
So fierce the hissings of her speckled snakes.
Her Juno finds, and thus inflames her spite:
"O virgin daughter of eternal night,
Give me this once thy labour, to sustain
My right, and execute my just disdain.
Let not the Trojans, with a feign'd pretence
Of proffer'd peace, delude the Latian prince:
Expel from Italy that odious name,
And let not Juno suffer in her fame.
'Tis thine to ruin realms, o'erturn a state,
Betwixt the dearest friends to raise debate,
And kindle kindred blood to mutual hate.
Thy hand o'er towns the funeral torch displays,
And forms a thousand ills ten thousand ways.
Now shake from out thy fruitful breast the seeds
Of envy, discord, and of cruel deeds:
Confound the peace establish'd, and prepare
Their souls to hatred, and their hands to war."
Smear'd as she was with black Gorgonean blood,
The fury sprang above the Stygian flood:
And on her wicker wings, sublime, through night,
She to the Latian palace took her flight.
There sought the queen's apartments, stood before
The peaceful threshold, and besieg'd the door.
Restless Amata lay, her swelling breast
Fir'd with disdain for Turnus dispossest,
And the new nuptials of the Trojan guest.
From her black, bloody locks, the fury shakes
Her darling plague, the favourite of her snakes:
With her full force she threw the poisonous dart,
And fix'd it deep within Amata's heart:
That, thus envenom'd, she might kindle rage,
And sacrifice to strife her house and husband's age.
Unseen, unfelt, the fiery serpent skims
Betwixt her linen, and her naked limbs.
His baleful breath inspiring as he glides,
Now like a chain around her neck he rides;
Now like a fillet to her head repairs,
And, with her circling volumes, folds her hairs.
At first the silent venom slid with ease,
And seiz'd her cooler senses by degrees;
Then, ere th' infected mass was fir'd too far,
In plaintive accents she began the war;
And thus bespoke her husband: "Shall," she said,
"A wandering prince enjoy Lavinia's bed?
If nature plead not in a parent's heart,
Pity my tears, and pity her desert:
I know, my dearest lord, the time will come,
You would, in vain, reverse your cruel doom:
The faithless pirate soon will set to sea,
And bear the royal virgin far away!
A guest like him, a Trojan guest before,
In show of friendship, sought the Spartan shore;
And ravish'd Helen from her husband bore.
Think on a king's inviolable word;
And think on Turnus, her once-plighted lord:
To this false foreigner you give your throne,
And wrong a friend, a kinsman, and a son.
Resume your ancient care; and if the god,
Your sire, and you, resolve on foreign blood,
Know all are foreign, in a larger sense,
Not born your subjects, or deriv'd from hence.
Then if the line of Turnus you retrace,
He springs from Inachus, of Argive race."
But when she saw her reason illy spent,
And could not move him from his fix'd intent,
She flew to rage; for now the snake possess'd
Her vital parts, and poison'd all her breast;
She raves, she runs with a distracted pace,
And fills with horrid howls the public place.
And, as young striplings whip the top for sport,
On the smooth pavement of an empty court,
The wooden engine flies and whirls about,
Admir'd, with clamours, of the beardless rout;
They lash aloud, each other they provoke,
And lend their little souls at every stroke:
Thus fares the queen, and thus her fury blows
Amidst the crowds, and kindles as she goes.
Not yet content, she strains her malice more,
And adds new ills to those contriv'd before:
She flies the town, and, mixing with the throng
Of madding matrons, bears the bride along:
Wandering thro' woods and wilds, and devious ways
And with these arts the Trojan match delays.
She feign'd the rites of Bacchus! cry'd aloud,
And to the buxom god the virgin vow'd.
"Evoe, O Bacchus!" thus began the song, And "Evoe!" answer'd all the female throng: "O virgin! worthy thee alone," she cry'd; "O worthy thee alone!" the crew reply'd; "For thee she feeds her hair, she leads the dance, And with the winding ivy wreathes her lance." Like fury seiz'd the rest; the progress known, All seek the mountains, and forsake the town: All clad in skins of beasts the javelin bear, Give to the wanton winds their flowing hair: And shrieks and shoutings rend the suffering air. The queen, herself, inspir'd with rage divine, Shook high above her head a flaming pine: Then roll'd her baggard eyes around the throng, And sung, in Turnus' name, the nuptial song! "lö, ye Latian dames, if any here
Hold your unhappy queen, Amata, dear;
If there be here," she said, "who dare maintain
My right, nor think the name of mother vain,
Unbind your fillets, loose your flowing hair,
And orgies and nocturnal rites prepare."
Amata's breast the fury thus invades,
And fires with rage, amid the sylvan shades.
Then, when she found her venom spread so far,
The royal house embroil'd in civil war,
Rais'd on her dusky wings, she cleaves the skies,
And seeks the palace where young Turnus lies.
His town, as fame reports, was built of old
By Danaë, pregnant with almighty gold:
Who fled her father's rage, and with a train
Of following Argives, through the stormy main,
Driv'n by the southern blasts, was fated here to
'Twas Ardua once, now Ardea's name it bears,
Once a fair city, now consum'd with years.
Here in his lofty palace Turnus lay,
Betwixt the confines of the night and day,
Secure in sleep: the fury laid aside
Her looks and limbs, and with new methods try'd
The foulness of th' infernal form to hide.
Propp'd on a staff, she takes the trembling mien,
Her face is furrow'd, and her front obscene:
Deep-dinted wrinkles on her cheek she draws,
Sunk are her eyes, and toothless are her jaws :
Her hoary hair with holy fillets bound,
Her temples with an olive wreath are crown'd.
Old Calibe, who kept the sacred fane
Of Juno, now she seem'd, and thus began:
Appearing in a dream, to rouse the careless man.
"Shall Turnus then such endless toil sustain,
In fighting fields, and conquer towns in vain ?
Win, for a Trojan head to wear the prize?
Usurp thy crown, enjoy thy victories?
The bride and sceptre which thy blood has bought,
The king transfers, and foreign heirs are sought:
Go now, deluded man, and seek again
New toils, new dangers, on the dusty plain.
Repel the Tuscan foes, their city seize ;
Protect the Latians in luxurious ease.
This dream all-powerful Juno sends : I bear
Her mighty mandates, and her words you hear.
Haste, arm your Ardeans, issue to the plain,
With faith to friend, assault the Trojan train:
Their thoughtless chiefs, their painted ships that
In Tiber's mouth, with fire and sword destroy.
The Latian king, unless he shall submit,
Own his old promise, and his new forget;
Let him, in arms, the power of Turnus prove,
And learn to fear whom he disdains to love.
For such is Heaven's command." The youthful prince
With scorn reply'd; and made this bold defence:
"You tell me, mother, what I knew before;
The Phrygian fleet is landed on the shore:
I neither fear, nor will provoke, the war:
My fate is Juno's most peculiar care,
But time has made you dote, and vainly tell
Of arms imagin'd, in your lonely cell:
Go, be the temple and the gods your care;
Permit the men the thought of peace and war.”
These haughty words Alecto's rage provoke,
And frighted Turnus trembled as she spoke.
Her eyes grew stiffen'd, and with sulphur burn,
Her hideous looks, and hellish form, return:
Her curling snakes with hissings fill the place,
And open all the furies of her face!
Then, darting fire from her malignant eyes,
She cast him backward as he strove to rise,
And, lingering, sought to frame some new replies.
High on her head she rears two twisted snakes;
Her chain she rattles, and her whip she shakes;
And, churning bloody foam, thus loudly speaks:
“Behold whom time has made to dote, and tell
Of arms, imagin'd in her lowly cell:
Behold the fate's infernal minister;
War, death, destruction, in my band I bear!"
Thus having said, her smouldering torch im-
With her full force, she plung'd into his breast.
Aghast he wak'd, and, starting from his bed,
Cold sweat, in clammy drops, his limbs o'erspread:
"Arms, arms!" he cries; "my sword and shield
He breathes defiance, blood, and mortal war.
So when with crackling flames a caldron fries,
The bubbling waters from the bottom rise:
Above their brims they force their fiery way;
Black vapours climb aloft, and cloud the day.
The peace polluted thus, a chosen band
He first commissions to the Latian land,
In threatening embassy: then rais'd the rest,
To meet in arms th' intruding Trojan guests
To force the foes from the Lavinian shore,
And Italy's endanger'd peace restore ;
Himself alone, an equal match he boasts,
To fight the Phrygian and Ausonian hosts.
The gods invok'd, the Rutili prepare
Their arms, and warm each other to the war.
His beauty these, and those his blooming age,
The rest his house, and his own fame, engage.
While Turnus urges thus his enterprise,
The Stygian fury to the Trojans flies:
New frauds invents, and takes a steepy stand,
Which overlooks the vale with wide command;
Where fair Ascanius and his youthful train,
With horns and hounds, a hunting match ordain,
And pitch their toils around the shady plain.
The fury fires the pack; they suuff, they vent,
And feed their hungry nostrils with the scent.
'Twas of a well-grown stag, whose antlers rise
High o'er his front, his beams invade the skies:
From this light cause, th' infernal maid prepares
The country churls to mischief, hate, and wars.
The stately beast, the two Tyrrhedæ bred, Snatch'd from his dam, and the tame youngling fed. Their father Tyrrheus did their fodder bring; Tyrrheus, chief ranger to the Latian king: Their sister Sylvia cherish'd with her care The little wanton, and did wreaths prepare