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To bang his budding horns: with ribbons ty'd
His tender neck, and comb'd his silken hide;
And bath'd his body. Patient of command,
In time he grew, and, growing, us'd to hand.
He waited at his master's board for food;
Then sought his savage kindred in the wood :
Where, gazing all the day, at night he came
To his known lodgings, and his country dame.
This household beast, that us'd the woodland
grounds,

Was view'd at first by the young hero's hounds;
As down the stream he swam, to seek retreat
In the cool waters, and to quench his heat.
Ascanius, young, and eager of his game,
Soon bent his bow, uncertain in his aim:
But the dire fiend the fatal arrow guides,
Which pierc'd his bowels through his panting sides.
The bleeding creature issues from the floods,
Possest with fear, and seeks his known abodes;
His old familiar hearth, and household gods.
He falls, he fills the house with heavy groans;
Implores their pity, and his pain bemoans.
Young Sylvia beats her breast, and cries aloud
For succour from the clownish neighbourhood:
The churls assemble; for the fiend who lay
In the close woody covert urg'd their way.
One with a brand, yet burning from the flame;
Arm'd with a knotty club, another came :
Whate'er they catch or find, without their care,
Their fury makes an instrument of war.
Tyrrheus, the foster-father of the beast,
Then clench'd a hatchet in his horny fist:
But held his hand from the descending stroke,
And left his wedge within the cloven oak,
To whet their courage, and their rage provoke.
And now the goddess, exercis'd in ill,
Who watch'd an hour to work her impious will,
Ascends the roof, and to her crooked horn,
Such as was then by Latian shepherds borne,
Adds all her breath; the rocks and woods around,
And mountains, tremble at th' infernal sound.
The sacred lake of Trivia from afar,
The Veline fountains, and sulphureous Nar,
Shake at the baleful blast, the signal of the war.
Young mothers wildly stare, with fear possest,
And strain their helpless infants to their breast.
The clowns, a boisterous, rude, ungovern'd

crew,

With furious baste to the loud summons flew.
The powers of Troy, then issuing on the plain,
With fresh recruits their youthful chief sustain:
Nor theirs a raw and unexperienc'd train,
But a firm body of embattled men.

At first, while fortune favour'd neither side,
The fight with clubs and burning brands was try'd:
But now, both parties reinforc'd, the fields
Are bright with flaming swords and brazen shields.
A shining harvest either host displays,
And shoots against the Sun with equal rays.

Thus when a black-brow'd gust begins to rise,
White foam at first on the curl'd ocean fries;
Then roars the main, the billows mount the skies:
Till, by the fury of the storm full blown,
The muddy bottom o'er the clouds is thrown.

First Almon falls, old Tyrrheus' eldest care, Pierc'd with an arrow from the distant war: Fixt in his throat the flying weapon stood, And stopp'd his breath, and drank his vital blood. Huge heaps of slain around the body rise; Among the rest, the rich Galesus lies:

A good old man, while peace he preach'd in vain,
Amidst the madness of th' unruly train:
Five herds, five bleating flocks, his pastures fill'd;
His lands a hundred yoke of oxen till'd.
Thus, while in equal scales their fortune stood,
The fury bath'd them in each other's blood.
Then, having fix'd the fight, exulting flies,
And bears fulfill'd her promise to the skies;
To Juno thus she speaks: " Behold 'tis done;
The blood already drawn, the war begun;
The discord is complete, nor can they cease
The dire debate, nor you command the peace.
Now since the Latian and the Trojan brood
Have tasted vengeance, and the sweets of blood,
Speak, and my power shall add this office more;
The neighbouring nations of th' Ausoniau shore.
Shall hear the dreadful rumour from afar,
Of arm'd invasion, and embrace the war.
Then Juno thus: "The grateful work is done;
The seed of discord sow'd, the war begun ;
Frauds, fears, and fury, have possess'd the state,
And fix'd the causes of a lasting hate:
A bloody Hymen shall th' alliance join
Betwixt the Trojan and Ausonian line:
But thou with speed to Night and Hell repair,
For not the gods nor angry Jove will bear
Thy lawless wandering walks in upper air.
Leave what remains to me." Saturnia said:
The sullen fiend her sounding wings display'd,
Unwilling left the light, and sought the nether

[sound,

In midst of Italy, well known to fame, [shade. There lies a lake, Amsanctus is the name, Below the lofty mounts on either side; Thick forests the forbidden entrance hide: Full in the centre of the sacred wood An arm arises of the Stygian flood; Which, breaking from beneath with bellowing Whirls the black waves and rattling stones around, Here Pluto pants for breath from out his cell, And opens wide the grinning jaws of Hell. To this infernal lake the fury flies; Here hides her hated head, and frees the labouring Saturnian Juno, now, with double care, Attends the fatal process of the war.

Eskies.

The clowns return'd from battle bear the slain,
Implore the gods, and to their king complain.
The
corpse of Almon and the rest are shown,
Shrieks, clamours, murmurs, fill the frighted town.
Ambitious Turnus in the press appears,
And, aggravating crimes, augments their fears:
Proclaims his private injuries aloud,

A solemn promise made, and disavow'd;
A foreign son is sought, and a mixt mongrel brood.
Then they, whose mothers, frantic with their fear,
In woods and wilds the flags of Bacchus bear,
And lead his dances with dishevell'd hair;
Increase the clamour, and the war demand
(Such was Amata's interest in the fand)
Against the public sanctions of the peace;
Against all omens of their ill success;
With fates averse, the rout in arms resort,
To force their monarch, and insult the court.
But, like a rock unmov'd, a rock that braves
The raging tempest and the rising waves,
Propp'd on himself he stands; his solid sides
Wash off the sea-weeds, and the sounding tides:
So stood the pious prince unmov'd, and long
Sustain'd the madness of the noisy throng.
But when he found that Juno's power prevail'd,
And all the methods of cool counsel fail'd

He calls the gods to witness their offence,
Disclains the war, asserts his innocence.

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Hurry'd by fate," he cries," and borne before
A furious wind, we leave the faithful shore:
O more than madmen! you yourselves shall bear
The guilt of blood and sacrilegious war :
Thou, Turnus, shalt atone it by thy fate,
And pray to Heaven for peace; but pray too late.
For me, my stormy voyage at an end,
I to the port of death securely tend.
The funeral pomp which to your kings you pay,
Is all I want, and all you take away.'
He said no more, but, in his walls confin'd,
Shut out the woes which he too well divin'd:
Nor with the rising storm would vainly strive,
But left the helm, and let the vessel drive.
A solemn custom was observ'd of old,
Which Latium held, and now the Romans hold:
Their standard when in fighting fields they rear
Against the fierce Hyrcanians, or declare
The Scythian, Indian, or Arabian war:
Or from the boasting Parthians would regain
Their eagles lost in Carrhæ's bloody plain:
Two gates of steel (the name of Mars they bear,
And still are worship'd with religious fear,)
Before his temple stand: the dire abode,
And the fear'd issues of the furious god,

[high;

Are fenc'd with brazen bolts; without the gates,
The wary guardian Janus doubly waits.
Then, when the sacred senate votes the wars,
The Roman consul their decree declares,
And in his robes the sounding gates unbars.
The youth in military shouts arise,
And the loud trumpets break the yielding skies.
These rites, of old by sovereign princes us'd,
Were the king's office, but the king refus'd:
Deaf to their cries, nor would the gates unbar
Of sacred peace, or loose th' imprison'd war:
But hid his head, and, safe from loud alarms,
Abhorr'd the wicked ministry of arms.
Then Heaven's imperious queen shot down from
At her approach the brazen hinges fly;
The gates are forc'd, and every falling bar,
And, like a tempest, issues out the war.
The peaceful cities of th' Ausonian shore,
Lull'd in their ease, and undisturb'd before,
Are all on fire; and some, with studious care,
Their restive steeds in sandy plains prepare:
Some their soft limbs in painful marches try,
And war is all their wish, and arms the general cry.
Part scour the rusty shields with seam, and part
New grind the blunted ax, and point the dart:
With joy they view the waving ensigns fly,
And hear the trumpet's clangour pierce the sky.
Five cities forge their arms: th' Atinian powers,
Antemnæ, Tibur with her lofty towers,
Ardea the proud, the Crustumerian town:
All these of old were places of renown.
Some hammer helmets for the fighting field;
Some twine young sallows to support the shield;
The corslet some, and some the cuishes mould,
With silver plated, and with ductile gold.
The rustic honours of the scythe and share
Give place to swords and plumes, the pride of war.
Old falchions are new temper'd in the fires:
The sounding trumpet every soul inspires.
The word is given, with eager speed they lace
The shining head-piece, and the shield embrace.
The neighing steeds are to the chariots ty'd;
The trusty weapon sits on every side.

And now the mighty labour is begun,
Ye Muses, open all your Helicon.

Sing you the chiefs that sway th' Ausonian land,
Their arms, and armies under their command:
What warriors in our ancient clime were bred;
What soldiers follow'd, and what heroes led.
For well you know, and can record alone,
What fame to future times conveys but darkly
down.

Mezentius first appear'd upon the plain;
Scorn sat upon his brows, and sour disdain :
Defying Earth and Heaven: Etruria lost,
He brings to Turnus' aid his baffled host.
The charming Lausus, full of youthful fire,
Rode in the rank, and next his sullen sire:
To Turnus only second in the grace
Of manly mien, and features of the face;
A skilful horseman, and a huntsman bred,
With fates averse a thousand men he led :
His sire unworthy of so brave a son;
Himself well worthy of a happier throne.

Next Aventinus drives his chariot round
The Latian plains, with palms and laurels crown'd.
Proud of his steeds, he smokes along the field,
His father's hydra fills the ample shield.
A hundred serpents hiss about the brims;
The son of Hercules he justly seems,
By his broad shoulders and gigantic limbs.
Of heavenly part, and part of earthly blood,
A mortal woman mixing with a god.
For strong Alcides, after he had slain
The triple Geryon, drove from conquer'd Spain
His captive herds, and thence in triumph led;
On Tuscan Tiber's flowery banks they fed.
Then on Mount Aventine, the son of Jove
The priestess Rhea found, and forc'd to love.

[gore.

For arms his men long piles and javelins bore,
And poles with pointed steel their foes in battle
Like Hercules himself, his son appears,
In savage pomp: a lion's hide he wears;
About his shoulders hangs the shaggy skin,
The teeth and gaping jaws severely grin.
Thus like the god his father, homely drest,
He strides into the hall, a horrid guest.

Then two twin-brothers from fair Tibur came
(Which from their brother Tiburs took the name);
Fierce Coras, and Catillus, void of fear,
Arm'd Argive horse they led, and in the front

appear.

Like cloud-born centaurs, from the mountain's
With rapid course descending to the fight, [height,
They rush along; the rattling woods give way;
The branches bend before their sweepy sway.

Nor was Præneste's founder wanting there,
Whom fame reports the son of Mulciber:
Found in the fire, and foster'd in the plains,
A shepherd and a king at once he reigns,
And leads to Turnus' aid his country swains.
His own Præneste sends a chosen band,
With those who plough Saturnia's Gabine land:
Besides the succour which old Anien yields,
The rocks of Hernicus, and dewy fields,
Anagnia fat, and father Amasene,

A numerous rout, but all of naked men:
Nor arms they wear, nor swords and bucklers wield,
Nor drive the chariot through the dusty field; ̈
But whirl from leathern strings huge balls of lead:
And spoils of yellow wolves adorn their head:
The left foot naked, when they march to fight;
But in a bull's raw hide they sheath the right.

Messapus next, (great Neptune was his sire)
Secure from steel, and fated from the fire,
In pomp appears; and with his ardour warms
A heartless train, unexercis'd in arms:
The just Faliscians he to battle brings,

And those who live where lake Ciminia springs;
And where Feronia's grove and temple stands,
Who till Fescennian or Flavinian lands:
All these in order march, and marching sing
The warlike actions of their sea-born king.
Like a long team of snowy swans on high,
Which clap their wings, and cleave the liquid sky,
Which homeward from their watery pastures borne,
They sing, and Asia's lakes their notes return.
Not one who heard their music from afar,
Would think these troops an army train'd to war:
But flocks of fowl, that when the tempests roar,
With their hoarse gabbling seek the silent shore.
Then Clausus came, who led a numerous band
Of troops embody'd, from the Sabine land:
And in himself alone an ariny brought.
'Twas he the noble Claudian race begot:
The Claudian race, ordain'd, in times to come,
To share the greatness of imperial Rome,
He led the Cures forth of high renown,
Mutuscans from their olive bearing town;
And all th' Eretian powers: besides a band
That follow'd from Velinum's dewy land:
And Amiternian troops, of mighty fame,
And mountaineers, that from Severus came.
And from the craggy cliffs of Tetrica,
And those where yellow Tiber takes his way,
And where Himella's wanton waters play.
Casperia sends her arms, with those that lie
By Fabaris, and fruitful Foruli:

The warlike aids of Horta next appear,
And the cold Nursians come to close the rear:
Mix'd with the natives born of Latine blood,
Whom Allia washes with her fatal flood.
Not thicker billows beat the Libyan main,
When pale Orion sets in wintery rain;
Nor thicker harvest on rich Hermes ise,
Or Lycian fields, when Phoebus burns the skies;
Than stand these troops: their bucklers ring
[ground.

around;

Their trampling turns the turf, and shakes the solid
High in his chariot then Halesus came,
A foe by birth to Troy's unhappy name:
From Agamemnon born: to Turnus' aid,
A thousand men the youthful hero led;
Who till the Massic soil, for wine renown'd,
And fierce Aruncans from their hilly ground:
And those who live by Sidicinian shores,
And where, with shoaly fords, Vulturnus roars;
Cales and Osea's old inhabitants,
And rough Saticulans inur'd to wants :
Light demi-lances from afar they throw,
Fasten'd with leather thongs, to gall the foe.
Short crooked swords in closer fight they wear,
And, on their warding arms, like bucklers bear.
Nor, Ebalus, shalt thou be left unsung,
From nymph Semethis and old Telon sprung:
Who then in Teleboan Capri reign'd,
But that short isle th' ambitious youth disdain'd;
And o'er Campania stretch'd his ample sway;
Where swelling Sarnus secks the Tyrrhene sea:
O'er Batulum, and where Abella sees,
From her high towers, the harvest of her trees.
And these (as was the Teuton use of old)
Wield brazen swords, and brazen bucklers hold;

Sling weighty stones when from afar they fight: Their casques are cork, a covering thick and light. Next these in rank, the warlike Ufens went, And led the mountain-troops that Nursia sent. The rude Equicolæ his rule obey'd; [trade. Hunting their sport, and plundering was their In arms they plough'd, to battle still prepar'd: Their soil was barren, and their hearts were hard.

Umbro the priest, the proud Marrubians led, By king Archippus sent to Turnus' aid; And peaceful olives crown'd his hoary head. His wand and holy words, the viper's rage, And venom'd wound of serpents, could assuage. He, when he pleas'd with powerful juice to steep Their temples, shut their eyes in pleasing sleep. But vain were Marsian herbs, and magic art, To cure the wound giv'n by the Dardan dart. Yet his untimely fate th' Angitian woods In sighs remurmur'd to the Fucine floods. The son of fam'd Hippolytus was there; Fam'd as his sire, and as his mother fair. Whom in Egerian groves Aricia bore, And nurs'd his youth along the marshy shore; Where great Diana's peaceful altars flame In fruitful fields, and Virbius was his name. Hippolytus, as old records have said, Was by his stepdame sought to share her bed: But when no female arts his mind could move, She turn'd to furious hate her impious love. Torn by wild horses on the sandy shore, Another's crimes th' unhappy hunter bore, Glutting his father's eyes with guiltless gore. But chaste Diana, who his death deplor'd, With Esculapian herbs his life restor❜d. When Jove, who saw from high, with just disdain, The dead inspir'd with vital breath again, Struck to the centre with his flaming dart, Th' unhappy founder of the godlike art. But Trivia kept in secret shades alone Her care, Hippolytus, to fate unknown; And call'd him Virbius in th' Egerian grove: Where then he liv'd obscure, but safe from Jore. For this, from Trivia's temple and her wood Are coursers driven, who shed their master's blood; Affrighted by the monsters of the food. His son, the second Virbius, yet retain'd His father's art, and warrior steeds he rein'd.

Amid the troops, and like the leading god, High o'er the rest in arms the graceful Turnus rode: A triple pile of plumes his crest adorn'd, On which, with belching flames, Chimæra burn'd: The more the kindled combat rises higher, The more with fury burns the blazing fire. Fair lö grac'd his shield, but lö now With horns exalted stands, and seems to lowe: (A noble charge) her keeper by her side, To watch her walks, his hundred eyes apply'd; And on the brims her sire, the watery god, Roll'd from a silver urn his crystal flood: A cloud of soot succeeds, and fills the fields With swords and pointed spears, and clattering Of Argives, and of old Sicanian bands, [shields: And those who plough the rich Satulian lands; Auruncan youth, and those Sacrana yields, And the proud Labicans, with painted shields. And those who near Numician streams reside, And those whom Tiber's holy forests hide; Or Circe's hills from the main land divide: Where Ufens glide along the lowly lands, Or the black water of Pomptina stands.

Last, from the Volscians fair, Camilla came;
And led her warlike troops, a warrior dame:
Unbred to spinning, in the loom unskill'd,
She chose the nobler Pallas of the field.
Mix'd with the first, the fierce virago fought,
Sustain'd the toils of arms, the danger sought:
Outstripp'd the winds in speed upon the plain,
Flew o'er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain:
She swept the seas, and as she skimm'd along,
Her flying feet unbath'd on billows hung.
Men, boys, and women, stupid with surprise,
Where'er she passes, fix their wandering eyes:
Longing they look, and gaping at her sight,
Devour her o'er and o'er with vast delight.
Her purple habit sits with such a grace

On her smooth shoulders, and so suits her face:
Her head with ringlets of her hair is crown'd;
And in a golden caul the curls are bound.
She shakes her myrtle javelin; and, behind,
Her Lycian quiver dances in the wind.

THE EIGHTH BOOK OF

THE ÆNEIS.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE war being now begun, both the generals make all possible preparations. Turnus sends to Diomedes. Æneas goes in person to beg succours from Evander, and the Tuscans. Evander receives him kindly, furnishes him with men, and sends his own son Pallas with him. Vulcan, at the request of Venus, makes arms for her son Eneas, and draws on his shield the most memorable actions of his posterity.

WHEN Turnus had assembled all his powers ;
His standard planted on Laurentum's towers;
When now the sprightly trumpet, from afar,
Had given the signal of approaching war,
Had rous'd the neighing steeds to scour the fields,
While the fierce riders clatter'd on their shields,
Trembling with rage, the Latian youth prepare
To join th' allies, and headlong rush to war.
Fierce Ufens, and Messapus, led the crowd;
With bold Mezentius, who blasphem'd aloud.
These, through the country took their wasteful

course;

The fields to forage, and to gather force.
Then Venulus to Diomede they send,

To beg his aid Ausonia to defend :
Declare the common danger, and inform
The Grecian leader of the growing storm:
Eneas landed on the Latian coast,
With banish'd gods, and with a baffled host:
Yet now inspir'd to conquest of the state;
And claim'd a title from the gods and fate.
What numerous nations in his quarrel came,
And how they spread his formidable name:
What he design'd, what mischiefs might arise,
If fortune favour'd his first enterprize,
Was left for him to weigh, whose equal fears,
And common interest was involv'd in theirs.

While Turnus and th' allies thus urge the war,
The Trojan, floating in a flood of care,
Beholds the tempest which his foes prepare,
This way and that he turns his anxious mind;
Thinks, and rejects the counsels he design'd;
Explores himself, in vain, in every part,
And gives no rest to his distracted heart.

"So when the Sun by day, or Moon by night, Strike on the polish'd brass their trembling light, The glittering species here and there divide, And cast their dubious beams from side to side: Now on the walls, now on the pavement play, And to the cieling flash the glaring day. 'Twas night and weary nature lull'd asleep The birds of air, and fishes of the deep; And beasts, and mortal men: the Trojan chief Was laid on Tiber's banks, opprest with grief, And found in silent slumber late relief. Then through the shadows of the poplar wood Arose the father of the Roman flood: An azure robe was o'er his body spread, A wreath of shady reeds adorn'd his head: Thus, manifest to sight, the god appear'd, And with these pleasing words his sorrow cheer'd: "Undoubted offspring of ethereal race, O long expected in this promis'd place, [gods, Who, through the foes, hast borne thy banish'd Restor'd them to their hearths, and old abodes ; This is thy happy home! The clime where fate Ordains thee to restore the Trojan state. And all the rage of haughty Juno cease. Fear not, the war shall end in lasting peace;

"And that this nightly vision may not seem Th' effect of fancy, or an idle dream, A sow beneath an oak shall lie along, All white herself, and white her thirty young. When thirty rolling years have run their race, Thy son, Ascanius, on this empty space Shall build a royal town, of lasting frame; Which from this omen shall receive the name. Time shall approve the truth. For what remains, And how with sure success to crown thy pains, With patience next attend. A banish'd band, Driven with Evander from th' Arcadian land, Have planted here, and plac'd on high their walls; Their town the founder Pallanteum calis: Deriv'd from Pallas, his great grandsire's name: But the fierce Latians old possession claim, With war infesting the new colony; These make thy friends, and on their aid rely. To thy free passage I submit my streams: Wake, son of Venus, from thy pleasing dreams: And, when the setting stars are lost in day, To Juno's power thy just devotion pay. With sacrifice the wrathful queen appease: Her pride at length shall fall, her fury cease: When thou return'st victorious from the war, Perform thy vows to me with grateful care. The god am I, whose yellow water flows Around these fields, and fattens as it goes: Tiber my name: among the rolling floods Renown'd on Earth, esteem'd among the gods. This is my certain seat: in times to come, My waves shall wash the walls of mighty Rome." He said, and plung'd below, while yet he spoke; His dream Æneas and his sleep forsook. He rose, and looking up, beheld the skies With purple blushing and the day arise. Then, water in his hollow palm he took From Tiber's flood; and thus the powers bespoke

[fed,

"Laurentian nymphs, by whom the streanis are
And father Tiber, in thy sacred bed
Receive Æneas; and from danger keep.
Whatever fount, whatever holy deep,
Conceals thy watery stores; where'er they rise,
And, bubbling from below, salute the skies,
Thou king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn
Diffuses fatness to the fruitful corn,
For this thy kind compassion of our woes,
Shall share my morning song, and evening vows.
But, oh! be present to thy people's aid;
And firm the gracious promise thou hast made."
Thus having said, two gallies, from his stores,
With care he chooses; mans, and fits with oars.
Now on the shore the fatal swine is found:
Wondrous to tell; she lay along the ground:
Her well-fed offspring at her udders hung;
She white herself, and white her thirty young;
Æneas takes the mother, and her brood,
And all on Juno's altar are bestow'd.
The following night, and the succeeding day,
Propitious Tiber smooth'd his watery way:
He roll'd his river back, and pois'd he stood:
A gentle swelling, and a peaceful flood.

The Trojans mount their ships; they put from shore :

Borne on the waves, and scarcely dip an oar.
Shouts from the land give omen to their course,
And the pitch'd vessels glide with easy force.
The woods and waters wonder at the gleam
Of shields, and painted ships, that stem the

[blocks in formation]

The fiery Sun had finish'd half his race,
Look'd back, and doubted in the middle space,
When they from far beheld the rising towers,
The tops of sheds, and shepherds' lowly bowers:
Thin as they stood, which, then of homely clay,
Now rise in marble, from the Roman sway.
These cots (Evander's kingdom, mean and poor)
The Trojan saw, and turn'd his ships to shore.
'Twas on a solemn day: th' Arcadian states,
The king and prince without the city gates,
Then paid their offerings in a sacred grove
To Hercules, the warrior son of Jove.
Thick clouds of rolling smoke involve the skies;
And fat of entrails on his altar fries.

|flood,

But when they saw the ships that stemm'd the
And glitter'd through the covert of the wood,
They rose with fear, and left th' unfinish'd feast;
Till dauntless Pallas re-assur'd the rest

To pay the rites. Himself, without delay,
A javelin seiz'd, and singly took his way.
Then gain'd a rising ground; and call'd from far;
"Resolve me, strangers, whence, and what you are;
Your business here, and bring you peace or war?"
High on the stern, Æneas took his stand,
And held a branch of olive in his hand,
While thus he spoke : "The Phrygians' arms you
Expell'd from Troy, provok'd in Italy
By Latian foes, with war unjustly made:
At first affianc'd, and at last betray'd,
This message bear: the Trojans and their chief,
Bring holy peace, and beg the king's relief."
Struck with so great a name, and all on fire,
The youth replies, "Whatever you require
Your fame exacts: upon our shores descend,
A welcome guest, and, what you wish, a friend."

[see,

He said; and downward hasting to the strand, Einbrac'd the stranger prince, and join'd his hand.

Conducted to the grove, Æneas broke
The silence first, and thus the king bespoke:
"Best of the Greeks, to whom, by fate's command,
I bear these peaceful branches in my hand,
Undaunted I approach you; though I know
Your birth is Grecian, and your land my foe:
From Atreus though your ancient lineage came,
And both the brother-kings your kindred claim,
Yet, my self-conscious worth, your high redoWD,
Your virtue, through the neighbouring nations
blown,

Our fathers' mingled blood, Apollo's voice,
Have led me hither, less by need than choice.
Our founder Dardanus, as fame has sung,
And Greeks acknowledge, from Electra sprung:
Electra from the loins of Atlas came;
Atlas whose head sustains the starry frame.
Your sire is Mercury; whom long before
On cold Cyllene's top fair Maja bore.
Maja the fair, on fame if we rely,
Was Atlas' daughter, who sustains the sky:
Thus from one common source our streams
divide:

Ours is the Trojan, yours th' Arcadian side.
Rais'd by these hopes, I sent no news before,
Nor ask'd your leave, nor did your faith implore;
But come, without a pledge, my own ambassador.
The same Rutilians, who with arms pursue
The Trojan race, are equal foes to you.

"Our host expell'd, what farther force can stay The victor troops from universal sway? Then will they stretch their power athwart the

land;

And either sea from side to side command.
Receive our offer'd faith; and give us thine:
Ours is a generous and experienc'd line :
We want not hearts nor bodies for the war;
In council cautious, and in fields we dare."
He said; and while he spoke, with piercing eyes
Evander view'd the man with vast surprise,
Pleas'd with his action, ravish'd with his face,
Then answer'd briefly, with a royal grace:
"O valiant leader of the Trojan line,

In whom the features of thy father shine,
How I recal Anchises, how I see

His motions, mien, and all my friend in thee!
Long though it be, 'tis fresh within my mind,
When Priam to his sister's court design'd
A welcome visit, with a friendly stay,
And through th' Arcadian kingdom took his way.
Then, past a boy, the callow down began
To shade my chin, and call me first a man.
I saw the shining train with vast delight,
And Priam's goodly person pleas'd my sight:
But great Anchises, far above the rest,
With awful wonder fir'd my youthful breast.
I long'd to join, in friendship's holy bands,
Our mutual hearts, and plight our mutual hands.
I first accosted him: I sued, I sought,
And with a loving force to Pheneus brought,
He gave me, when at length constrain'd to go,
A Lycian quiver, and a Gnossian bow:
A vest embroider'd glorious to behold,
And two rich bridles, with their bits of gold,
Which my son's coursers in obedience hold.
The league you ask I offer, as your right:
And when tomorrow's Sun reveals the light,

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