BOOK I
Arms and the man I sing,[1] who at the first from Troy’s[2]
shores the exile of destiny, won his way to Italy and her
Latian[3] coast—a man much buffeted on land and on the
deep by violence from above, to sate the unforgetting wrath
of Juno[4] the cruel—much[5] scourged too in war, as he 5
struggled to build him a city, and find his gods a home in
Latium—himself the father of the Latian people, and the
chiefs of Alba’s[6] houses, and the walls of high towering
Rome.
Bring to my mind, O Muse,[7] the causes—for what 10
treason against her godhead, or what pain received, the
queen of heaven drove a man of piety so signal to turn
the wheel of so many calamities, to bear the brunt of so
many hardships! Can heavenly natures hate[8] so fiercely
and so long? 15
Of old there was a city, its people emigrants from
Tyre,[9] Carthage, over against Italy and Tiber’s mouths,
yet far removed—rich and mighty, and formed to all
roughness by war’s[10] iron trade—a spot where Juno, it
was said, loved to dwell more than in all the world beside, 20
Samos[11] holding but the second place. Here was her
armour, here her chariot—here to fix by her royal act
the empire of the nations, could Fate be brought to assent,
was even then her aim, her cherished scheme. But she
had heard that the blood of Troy was sowing the seed of a 25
race to overturn one day those Tyrian towers—from that
seed a nation, monarch of broad realms and glorious in
war, was to bring ruin on Libya[12]—such the turning of
Fate’s[13] wheel. With these fears Saturn’s[14] daughter, and
with a lively memory of that old war which at first she
had waged at Troy for her loved Argos’[15] sake—nor indeed
had the causes of that feud and the bitter pangs
they roused yet vanished from her mind—no, stored up 5
in her soul’s depths remains the judgment of Paris,[16] and
the wrong done to her slighted beauty, and the race abhorred
from the womb, and the state enjoyed by the
ravished Ganymede.[17] With this fuel added to the fire,
the Trojans, poor remnants of Danaan[18] havoc and 10
Achilles’[19] ruthless spear, she was tossing from sea to sea,
and keeping far away from Latium; and for many long
years they were wandering, with destiny still driving
them, the whole ocean round. So vast the effort it cost
to build up the Roman nation! 15
Scarce out of sight of the land of Sicily were they spreading
their sails merrily to the deep, and scattering with
their brazen prows the briny spray, when Juno, the everlasting
wound still rankling in her heart’s core, thus communed
with herself: “And am I to give up what I have 20
taken in hand, baffled, nor have power to prevent the king
of the Teucrians[20] from reaching Italy—because, forsooth,
the Fates forbid me? What! was Pallas[21] strong enough
to burn up utterly the Grecian fleet, and whelm the crews
in the sea, for the offence of a single man, the frenzy of 25
Ajax,[22] Oïleus’ son? Aye, she with her own hand launched
from the clouds Jove’s[23] winged fire, dashed the ships apart,
and turned up the sea-floor with the wind—him, gasping
out the flame which pierced his bosom, she caught in the
blast, and impaled on a rock’s[24] point—while I, who walk 30
the sky as its queen, Jove’s sister and consort both, am
battling with a single nation these many years. And are
there any found to pray to Juno’s deity after this, or lay
on her altar a suppliant’s gift?”
With such thoughts sweeping through the solitude of 35
her enkindled breast, the goddess comes to the storm-cloud’s
birthplace, the teeming womb of fierce southern
blasts, Æolia.[25] Here, in a vast cavern,[26] King Æolus[27]
is bowing to his sway struggling winds and howling tempests,
and bridling them with bond[28] and prison. They,
in their passion, are raving at the closed doors, while the
huge rock roars responsive: Æolus is sitting aloft in his
fortress, his sceptre in his hand, soothing their moods 5
and allaying their rage; were he to fail in this, why sea
and land, and the deep of heaven, would all be forced
along by their blast, and swept through the air. But
the almighty sire has buried them in caverns dark and
deep, with this fear before his eyes, and placed over them 10
giant bulk and tall mountains, and given them a king
who, by the terms of his compact, should know how to
tighten or slacken the reins at his patron’s will. To him
it was that Juno then, in these words, made her humble
request:— 15
“Æolus—for it is to thee that the sire of gods and king
of men has given it with the winds now to calm, now to
rouse the billows—there is a race which I love not now
sailing the Tyrrhene[29] sea, carrying Ilion[30] into Italy and
Ilion’s vanquished gods; do thou lash the winds to fury, 20
sink and whelm their ships, or scatter them apart, and
strew the ocean with their corpses. Twice seven nymphs
are of my train, all of surpassing beauty; of these her whose
form is fairest, Deiopea, I will unite to thee in lasting wedlock,
and consecrate her thy own, that all her days, for a 25
service so great, she may pass with thee, and make thee
father of a goodly progeny.”
Æolus returns: “Thine, great Queen, is the task to
search out on what thou mayest fix thy heart; for me to do
thy bidding[31] is but right. Thou makest this poor realm 30
mine, mine the sceptre and Jove’s smile; thou givest me a
couch at the banquets of the gods, and makest me lord
of the storm-cloud and of the tempest.”
So soon as this was said, he turned his spear, and pushed
the hollow mountain on its side; and the winds, as though 35
in column formed, rush forth[32] where they see any outlet,
and sweep over the earth in hurricane. Heavily they
fall[33] on the sea, and from its very bottom crash down the
whole expanse—one and all, east and south, and south-west,
with his storms thronging at his back, and roll huge
billows shoreward. Hark to the shrieks of the crew, and
the creaking of the cables! In an instant the clouds
snatch sky and daylight[34] from the Teucrians’ eyes—night 5
lies on the deep, black and heavy—pole thunders to
pole; heaven flashes thick with fires, and all nature
brandishes instant death in the seaman’s face. At once
Æneas’[35] limbs are unstrung and chilled[36]—he groans
aloud, and, stretching his clasped hands to the stars, 10
fetches from his breast words like these:—“O happy,
thrice[37] and again, whose lot it was, in their fathers’ sight,
under Troy’s high walls to meet death! O thou, the bravest
of the Danaan race, Tydeus’ son,[38] why was it not mine
to lay me low on Ilion’s plains, and yield this fated life to 15
thy right hand? Aye, there it is that Hector,[39] stern as
in life, lies stretched by the spear of Æacides[40]—there
lies Sarpedon’s[41] giant bulk—there it is that Simois[42]
seizes and sweeps down her channel those many shields
and helms, and bodies of the brave!” 20
Such words as he flung wildly forth, a blast roaring from
the north strikes his sail full in front and lifts the billows
to the stars.[43] Shattered are the oars; then the prow
turns and presents the ship’s side to the waves; down
crashes in a heap a craggy mountain of water. Look! 25
these are hanging on the surge’s crest[44]—to those the
yawning deep is giving a glimpse of land down among
the billows; surf and sand are raving together. Three
ships the south catches, and flings upon hidden rocks—rocks 30
which, as they stand with the waves all about them,
the Italians call Altars, an enormous ridge rising above
the sea. Three the east drives from the main on to shallows
and Syrtes,[45] a piteous sight, and dashes them on
shoals, and embanks them in mounds of sand. One in
which the Lycians were sailing, and true Orontes, a 35
mighty sea strikes from high on the stem before Æneas’
very eyes; down goes the helmsman, washed from his
post, and topples on his head, while she is thrice whirled
round by the billow in the spot where she lay, and swallowed
at once by the greedy gulf. You might see them
here and there swimming in that vast abyss—heroes’
arms, and planks, and Troy’s treasures glimmering through
the water. Already Ilioneus’ stout ship, already brave 5
Achates’, and that in which Abas sailed, and that which
carried old Aletes, are worsted by the storm; their side-jointings[46]
loosened, one and all give entrance to the
watery foe, and part failingly asunder.
Meantime the roaring riot of the ocean and the storm let 10
loose reached the sense of Neptune,[47] and the still waters
disgorged from their deep beds, troubling him grievously;
and casting a broad glance over the main he raised at
once his tranquil brow from the water’s surface. There
he sees Æneas’ fleet tossed hither and thither over the 15
whole expanse—the Trojans whelmed under the billows,
and the crashing ruin of the sky—nor failed the brother
to read Juno’s craft and hatred there. East and West
he calls before him, and bespeaks them thus:—“Are ye
then so wholly o’ermastered by the pride of your birth? 20
Have ye come to this, ye Winds, that, without sanction
from me, ye dare to confound[48] sea and land, and upheave
these mighty mountains? ye! whom I—but it were best
to calm the billows ye have troubled. Henceforth ye
shall pay me for your crimes in far other coin. Make 25
good speed with your flight, and give your king this message.
Not to him did the lot assign the empire of the sea
and the terrible trident, but to me. His sway is over those
enormous rocks, where you, Eurus,[49] dwell, and such as
you; in that court let Æolus lord it, and rule in the prison-house 30
of the winds when its doors are barred.”
He speaks, and ere his words are done soothes the swelling
waters, and routs[50] the mustered clouds, and brings
back the sun in triumph. Cymothoë and Triton[51] combine
their efforts to push off the vessels from the sharp-pointed 35
rock. The god himself upheaves them with his
own trident,[52] and levels the great quicksands, and allays
the sea, and on chariot-wheels of lightest motion glides
along the water’s top. Even as when in a great crowd tumult
is oft stirred up, and the base herd waxes wild and frantic,
and brands and stones are flying already, rage suiting
the weapon[53] to the hand—at that moment, should their
eyes fall on some man of weight, for duty done and public 5
worth, tongues are hushed and ears fixed in attention,
while his words sway the spirit and soothe the breast—so
fell all the thunders of the ocean, so soon as the great
father, with the waves before him in prospect, and the
clear sky all about him, guides his steeds at will, and as he 10
flies flings out the reins freely to his obedient car.
Spent with toil, the family of Æneas labour to gain the
shore that may be nearest, and are carried to the coasts
of Libya. There is a spot retiring deep into the land, where
an island forms a haven[54] by the barrier of its sides, which 15
break every billow from the main and send it shattered
into the deep indented hollows. On either side of the bay are
huge rocks, and two great crags rising in menace to the
sky; under their summits far and wide the water is hushed
in shelter, while a theatric background of waving woods, 20
a black forest of stiffening shade, overhangs it from the
height. Under the brow that fronts the deep is a cave
with pendent crags; within there are fresh springs and
seats in the living rock—the home of the nymphs; no
need of cable[55] here to confine the weary bark or anchor’s 25
crooked fang to grapple her to the shore. Here with seven
ships mustered from his whole fleet Æneas enters; and
with intense yearning for dry land the Trojans disembark
and take possession of the wished-for shore, and lay their
brine-drenched limbs upon the beach. And first Achates 30
from a flint struck out a spark, and received the fire as it
dropped in a cradle of leaves, and placed dry food all about
it, and spread the strong blaze among the tinder. Then
their corn, soaked and spoiled as it was, and the corn-goddess’
armoury they bring out, sick of fortune; and make 35
ready to parch the rescued grain at the fire, and crush it
with the millstone.
Æneas meanwhile clambers up a rock, and tries to get a
full view far and wide over the sea, if haply he may see
aught of Antheus, driven by the gale, and the Phrygian
biremes,[56] or Capys, or high on the stern the arms of Caicus.
Sail there is none in sight; three stags he sees at distance
straying on the shore; these the whole herd follows in the 5
rear, and grazes along the hollows in long array. At once
he took his stand, and caught up a bow and fleet arrows,
which true Achates chanced to be carrying, and lays low first
the leaders themselves, as they bear their heads aloft with
tree-like antlers, then the meaner sort, and scatters with 10
his pursuing shafts the whole rout among the leafy woods;
nor stays his hand till he stretches on earth victoriously
seven huge bodies, and makes the sum of them even with
his ships. Then he returns to the haven and gives all his
comrades their shares. The wine next, which that good 15
Acestes had stowed in casks on the Trinacrian shore, and
given them at parting with his own princely hand, he
portions out, and speaks words of comfort to their sorrowing
hearts:—
“Comrades! for comrades we are, no strangers to hardships 20
already; hearts that have felt deeper wounds! for
these too heaven will find a balm. Why, men, you have
even looked on Scylla[57] in her madness, and heard those
yells that thrill the rocks; you have even made trial of
the crags of the Cyclops.[58] Come, call your spirits back, 25
and banish these doleful fears—who knows but some
day this too will be remembered[59] with pleasure? Through
manifold chances, through these many perils of fortune,
we are making our way to Latium, where the Fates hold
out to us a quiet settlement; there Troy’s empire has 30
leave to rise again from its ashes. Bear up, and reserve
yourselves for brighter days.”
Such were the words his tongue uttered; heart-sick[60]
with overwhelming care, he wears the semblance of hope
in his face, but has grief deep buried in his heart. They 35
gird themselves to deal with the game, their forthcoming
meal; strip the hide from the ribs, and lay bare the flesh—some
cut it into pieces, and impale it yet quivering on
spits, others set up the caldrons on the beach, and supply
them with flame. Then with food they recall their
strength, and, stretched along the turf, feast on old wine
and fat venison to their hearts’ content. Their hunger
sated by the meal, and the boards removed, they vent in 5
long talk their anxious yearning for their missing comrades—balanced
between hope and fear, whether to
think of them as alive, or as suffering the last change, and
deaf already to the voice that calls on them. But good
Æneas’ grief exceeds the rest; one moment he groans for 10
bold Orontes’ fortune, another for Amycus’, and in the
depth of his spirit laments for the cruel fate of Lycus;
for the gallant Gyas and the gallant Cloanthus.
And now at last their mourning had an end, when
Jupiter from the height of ether,[61] looking down on the sea 15
with its fluttering sails, on the flat surface of earth, the
shores, and the broad tribes of men, paused thus upon
heaven’s very summit, and fixed his downward gaze on
Libya’s realms. To him, revolving in his breast such
thoughts as these, sad beyond her wont, with tears suffusing 20
her starry eyes, speaks Venus: “O thou, who by thy
everlasting laws swayest the two commonwealths of men
and gods, and awest them by thy lightning! What can
my poor Æneas have done to merit thy wrath? What
can the Trojans? yet they, after the many deaths they 25
have suffered already, still find the whole world barred[62]
against them for Italy’s sake. From them assuredly it
was that the Romans, as years rolled on—from them were
to spring those warrior chiefs, aye from Teucer’s blood revived,
who should rule sea and land with absolute sway—such 30
was thy promise: how has thy purpose, O my father,
wrought a change in thee? This, I know, was my constant
solace when Troy’s star set in grievous ruin, as I sat balancing
destiny against destiny. And now here is the same
Fortune, pursuing the brave men she has so oft discomfited 35
already. Mighty king, what end of sufferings hast thou
to give them? Antenor,[63] indeed, found means to escape
through the midst of the Achæans, to thread in safety
the windings of the Illyrian coast, and the realms of the
Liburnians, up at the gulf’s head, and to pass the springs
of Timavus, whence through nine mouths,’mid the rocks’
responsive roar, the sea comes bursting up, and deluges
the fields with its thundering billows. Yet in that spot 5
he built the city of Patavium for his Trojans to dwell in,
and gave them a place and a name among the nations, and
set up a rest for the arms[64] of Troy: now he reposes, lapped
in the calm of peace. Meantime we, of thine own blood,
to whom thy nod secures the pinnacle of heaven, our ships, 10
most monstrous, lost, as thou seest, all to sate the malice
of one cruel heart, are given up to ruin, and severed far
from the Italian shores. Is this the reward of piety[65]?
Is this to restore a king to his throne?”
Smiling on her, the planter of gods and men, with that 15
face which calms the fitful moods of the sky, touched with
a kiss his daughter’s lips, then addressed her thus: “Give
thy fears a respite, lady of Cythera[66]: thy people’s destiny
abides still unchanged for thee; thine eyes shall see the
city of thy heart, the promised walls of Lavinium[67]; 20
thine arms shall bear aloft to the stars of heaven thy hero
Æneas; nor has my purpose wrought a change in me.
Thy hero—for I will speak out, in pity for the care that
rankles yet, and awaken the secrets of Fate’s book from
the distant pages where they slumber—thy hero shall 25
wage a mighty war in Italy, crush its haughty tribes, and
set up for his warriors a polity and a city, till the third
summer shall have seen him king over Latium, and three
winters in camp shall have passed over the Rutulians’[68]
defeat. But the boy Ascanius,[69] who has now the new 30
name of Iulus—Ilus he was, while the royalty of Ilion’s
state stood firm—shall let thirty of the sun’s great courses
fulfil their monthly rounds while he is sovereign, then
transfer the empire from Lavinium’s seat, and build
Alba the Long, with power and might. Here for full three 35
hundred years the crown shall be worn by Hector’s[70] line,
till a royal priestess, teeming by the war-god, Ilia, shall
be the mother of twin sons. Then shall there be one,
proud to wear the tawny hide of the wolf that nursed him,
Romulus, who will take up the sceptre, and build a new
city, the city of Mars, and give the people his own name
of Roman. To them I assign no limit, no date of empire:
my grant to them is dominion without end. Nay, Juno, 5
thy savage foe, who now, in her blind terror, lets neither
sea, land, nor heaven rest, shall amend her counsels, and
vie with me in watching over the Romans, lords of earth,
the great nation of the gown. So it is willed. The time
shall come, as Rome’s years roll on, when the house of 10
Assaracus[71] shall bend to its yoke Phthia[72] and renowned
Mycenæ,[73] and queen it over vanquished Argos.[74] Then shall
be born the child of an illustrious line, one of thine own
Trojans, Cæsar, born to extend his empire to the ocean, his
glory to the stars,[75]—Julius, in name as in blood the heir of 15
great Iulus. Him thou shalt one day welcome in safety to
the sky, a warrior laden with Eastern spoils; to him, as to
Æneas, men shall pray and make their vows. In his days
war[76] shall cease, and savage times grow mild. Faith with
her hoary head, and Vesta,[77] Quirinus,[78] and Remus his 20
brother, shall give law to the world: grim, iron-bound,
closely welded, the gates of war shall be closed; the fiend
of Discord a prisoner within, seated on a pile of arms deadly
as himself, his hands bound behind his back with a hundred
brazen chains, shall roar ghastly from his throat of blood.” 25
So saying, he sends down from on high the son of Maia,[79]
that Carthage the new, her lands and her towers, may
open themselves to welcome in the Teucrians, lest Dido,[80]
in her ignorance of Fate, should drive them from her
borders. Down flies Mercury through the vast abyss of 30
air, with his wings for oars, and has speedily alighted on
the shore of Libya. See! he is doing his bidding already:
the Punic[81] nation is resigning the fierceness of its nature
at the god’s pleasure; above all the rest, the queen is
admitting into her bosom thoughts of peace towards the 35
Teucrians, and a heart of kindness.
But Æneas the good, revolving many things the whole
night through, soon as the gracious dawn is vouchsafed,
resolves to go out and explore this new region; to inquire
what shores be these on which the wind has driven him,
who their dwellers, for he sees it is a wilderness, men or
beasts; and bring his comrades back the news. His
fleet he hides in the wooded cove under a hollow rock, 5
with a wall of trees and stiffening shade on each side.
He moves on with Achates, his single companion, wielding
in his hands two spear shafts, with heads of broad iron.
He had reached the middle of the wood, when his way
was crossed by his mother, wearing a maiden’s mien and 10
dress, and a maiden’s armour, Spartan, or even as Harpalyce
of Thrace, tires steed after steed, and heads the swift
waters of her own Hebrus as she flies along. For she had
a shapely bow duly slung from her shoulders in true huntress
fashion, and her hair streaming in the wind, her knee 15
bare, and her flowing scarf gathered round her in a knot.
Soon as she sees them, “Ho![82] youths,” cries she, “if you
have chanced to see one of my sisters wandering in these
parts, tell me where to find her—wandering with a quiver,
and a spotted lynx hide fastened about her; or, it may 20
be, pressing on the heels of the foaming boar with her
hounds in full cry.”
Thus Venus spoke, and Venus’ son replied:—“No sight
or hearing have we had of any sister of thine, O thou—what
name shall I give thee? maiden; for thy face is not 25
of earth, nor the tone of thy voice human: some goddess[83]
surely thou art. Phœbus’[84] sister belike, or one of the
blood of the nymphs? be gracious, whoe’er thou art, and
relieve our hardship, and tell us under what sky now,
on what realms of earth we are thrown. Utter strangers 30
to the men and the place, we are wandering, as thou seest,
by the driving of the wind and of the mighty waters.
Do this, and many a victim shall fall to thee at the altar
by this hand of mine.”
Then Venus:—“Nay, I can lay claim to no such honours. 35
Tyrian maidens, like me, are wont to carry the
quiver, and tie the purple buskin high up the calf. This
that you now see is the Punic realm, the nation Tyrian
and the town Agenor’s[85]; but on the frontiers are the
Libyans, a race ill to handle in war. The queen is Dido,
who left her home in Tyre to escape from her brother.
Lengthy is her tale of wrong, lengthy the windings of its
course; but I will pass rapidly from point to point. Her 5
husband was Sychæus, wealthiest of Phœnician landowners,
and loved by his poor wife with fervid passion;
on him her father had bestowed her in her maiden bloom,
linking them together by the omens of a first bridal. But
the crown of Tyre was on the head of her brother, Pygmalion, 10
in crime monstrous beyond the rest of men.
They were two, and fury came between them. Impious
that he was, at the very altar of the palace, the love of
gold blinding his eyes, he surprises Sychæus with his
stealthy steel, and lays him low, without a thought for 15
his sister’s passion; he kept the deed long concealed,
and with many a base coinage sustained the mockery
of false hope[86] in her pining love-lorn heart. But lo! in
her sleep there came to her no less than the semblance of
her unburied spouse, lifting up a face of strange unearthly 20
pallor; the ruthless altar and his breast gored with the
steel, he laid bare the one and the other, and unveiled
from first to last the dark domestic crime. Then he urges
her to speed her flight, and quit her home for ever, and in
aid of her journey unseals a hoard of treasure long hid in 25
the earth, a mass of silver and gold which none else knew.
Dido’s soul was stirred; she began to make ready her
flight, and friends to share it. There they meet, all whose
hate of the tyrant was fell or whose fear was bitter; ships,
that chanced to lie ready in the harbour, they seize, and 30
freight with gold. Away it floats over the deep, the
greedy Pygmalion’s wealth; and who heads the enterprise?
a woman[87]! So they came to the spot where you
now see yonder those lofty walls, and the rising citadel
of Carthage the new; there they bought ground, which 35
got from the transaction the name of Byrsa,[88] as much as
they could compass round with a bull’s hide. But who
are you after all? What coast are you come from, or
whither are you holding on your journey?” That question
he answers thus, with a heavy sigh, and a voice
fetched from the bottom of his heart:—
“Fair goddess! should I begin from the first and proceed
in order, and hadst thou leisure to listen to the chronicle 5
of our sufferings, eve would first close the Olympian gates
and lay the day to sleep. For us, bound from ancient
Troy, if the name of Troy has ever chanced to pass through
a Tyrian ear, wanderers over divers seas already, we have
been driven by a storm’s wild will upon your Libyan 10
coasts. I am Æneas, styled the good, who am bearing
with me in my fleet the gods of Troy rescued from the
foe; a name blazed by rumour above the stars. I am in
quest of Italy, looking there for an ancestral home, and a
pedigree drawn from high Jove himself. With twice ten 15
ships I climbed the Phrygian main, with a goddess mother
guiding me on my way, and a chart of oracles to follow.
Scarce seven remain to me now, shattered by wind and
wave. Here am I, a stranger, nay, a beggar, wandering
over your Libyan deserts, driven from Europe and Asia 20
alike.” Venus could bear the complaint no longer, so
she thus struck into the middle of his sorrows:—
“Whoever you are, it is not, I trow, under the frown of
heavenly powers that you draw the breath of life,[89] thus to
have arrived at our Tyrian town. Only go on, and make 25
your way straight hence to the queen’s palace. For I
give you news that your comrades are returned and your
fleet brought back, wafted into shelter by shifting gales,
unless my learning of augury was vain, and the parents
who taught me cheats. Look at these twelve swans 30
exultant in victorious column, which the bird of Jove,[90]
swooping from the height of ether, was just now driving
in confusion over the wide unsheltered sky; see now how
their line stretches, some alighting on the ground, others
just looking down on those alighted. As they, thus rallied, 35
ply their whirring wings[91] in sport, spreading their train
round the sky, and uttering songs of triumph, even so
your vessels and your gallant crews are either safe in the
port, or entering the haven with sails full spread. Only
go on, and where the way leads you direct your steps.”
She said, and as she turned away, flashed on their sight
her neck’s roseate hue; her ambrosial locks breathed from
her head a heavenly fragrance; her robe streamed down 5
to her very feet; and in her walk[92] was revealed the true
goddess. Soon as he knew his mother, he pursued her
flying steps with words like these:—“Why wilt thou be
cruel like the rest, mocking thy son these many times
with feigned semblances? Why is it not mine to grasp 10
thy hand in my hand, and hear and return the true language
of the heart?” Such are his upbraidings, while he
yet bends his way to the town. But Venus fenced them
round with a dim cloud as they moved, and wrapped them
as a goddess only can in a spreading mantle of mist, that 15
none might be able to see them, none to touch them, or
put hindrances in their path, or ask the reason of their coming.
She takes her way aloft to Paphos,[93] glad to revisit
the abode she loves, where she has a temple and a hundred
altars, smoking with Sabæan[94] incense, and fragrant with 20
garlands ever new.
They, meanwhile, have pushed on their way, where the
path guides them, and already they are climbing the hill
which hangs heavily over the city, and looks from above
on the towers that rise to meet it. Æneas marvels at the 25
mass of building, once a mere village of huts; marvels at
the gates, and the civic din, and the paved ways. The
Tyrians are alive and on fire—intent, some on carrying
the walls aloft and upheaving the citadel, and rolling
stones from underneath by force of hand; some on making 30
choice of a site for a dwelling, and enclosing it with a
trench. They are ordaining the law and its guardians, and
the senate’s sacred majesty. Here are some digging out
havens; there are others laying deep the foundation of a
theatre, and hewing from the rocks enormous columns, 35
the lofty ornaments of a stage that is to be. Such are the
toils that keep the commonwealth of bees[95] at work
in the sun among the flowery meads when summer is
new, what time they lead out the nation’s hope, the young
now grown, or mass together honey, clear and flowing, and
strain the cells to bursting with its nectarous sweets, or
relieve those who are coming in of their burdens, or collect
a troop and expel from their stalls the drones, that lazy, 5
thriftless herd. The work is all afire, and a scent of thyme
breathes from the fragrant honey. “O happy they, whose
city is rising already!” cries Æneas, as he looks upward
to roof and dome. In he goes, close fenced by his cloud,
miraculous to tell, threads his way through the midst, 10
and mingles with the citizens, unperceived of all.
A grove there was in the heart of the city, most plenteous
of shade—the spot where first, fresh from the buffeting of
wave and wind, the Punic race dug up the token which
queenly Juno had bidden them expect, the head of a fiery 15
steed—for even thus, said she, the nation should be renowned
in war and rich in sustenance for a life of centuries.
Here Dido, Sidon’s[96] daughter, was building a vast temple
to Juno, rich in offerings and in the goddess’s especial
presence; of brass was the threshold with its rising steps, 20
clamped with brass the door-posts, the hinge creaked on
a door of brass. In this grove it was that first a new object
appeared, as before, to soothe away fear: here it was that
Æneas first dared to hope that all was safe, and to place a
better trust in his shattered fortunes. For while his eye 25
ranges over each part under the temple’s massy roof, as
he waits there for the queen—while he is marvelling at
the city’s prosperous star, the various artist-hands vying
with each other, their tasks and the toil they cost, he
beholds, scene after scene, the battles of Ilion, and the 30
war that Fame had already blazed the whole world over—Atreus’[o]
sons, and Priam, and the enemy of both,
Achilles. He stopped short, and breaking into tears,
“What place is there left?” he cries, “Achates, what
clime on earth that is not full of our sad story? See there 35
Priam. Here, too, worth finds its due reward; here, too,
there are tears[97] for human fortune, and hearts that are
touched by mortality. Be free from fear: this renown
of ours will bring you some measure of safety.” So speaking,
he feeds his soul on the empty portraiture, with many
a sigh, and lets copious rivers run down his cheeks. For
he still saw how, as they battled round Pergamus,[98] here
the Greeks were flying, the Trojan youth in hot pursuit; 5
here the Phrygians, at their heels in his car Achilles, with
that dreadful crest. Not far from this he recognizes with
tears the snowy canvas of Rhesus’ tent, which, all surprised
in its first sleep, Tydeus’ son was devastating with wide
carnage, himself bathed in blood—see! he drives off 10
the fiery steeds to his own camp, ere they have had time
to taste the pastures of Troy or drink of Xanthus.[99] There
in another part is Troilus[100] in flight, his arms fallen from
him—unhappy boy, confronted with Achilles in unequal
combat—hurried away by his horses, and hanging half 15
out of the empty car, with his head thrown back, but the
reins still in his hand; his neck and his hair are being
trailed along the ground, and his inverted spear is drawing
lines in the dust. Meanwhile to the temple of Pallas,[101]
not their friend, were moving the Trojan dames with locks 20
dishevelled, carrying the sacred robe, in suppliant guise
of mourning, their breasts bruised with their hands—the
goddess was keeping her eyes riveted on the ground,
with her face turned away. Thrice had Achilles dragged
Hector round the walls of Ilion, and was now selling for 25
gold his body, thus robbed of breath. Then, indeed,
heavy was the groan that he gave from the bottom of
his heart, when he saw the spoils, the car, the very body
of his friend, and Priam, stretching out those helpless
hands. Himself, too, he recognizes in the forefront of 30
the Achæan ranks, and the squadrons of the East, and the
arms of the swarthy Memnon.[102] There, leading the columns
of her Amazons, with their moony shields, is Penthesilea[103]
in her martial frenzy, blazing out, the centre of thousands,
as she loops up her protruded breast with a girdle of gold, 35
the warrior queen, and nerves herself to the shock of combat,
a maiden against men.
While these things are meeting the wondering eyes of
Æneas the Dardan—while he is standing bewildered,
and continues riveted in one set gaze—the queen has
moved towards the temple, Dido, of loveliest presence,
with a vast train of youths thronging round her. Like
as on Eurotas’ banks, or along the ridges of Cynthus, 5
Diana[104] is footing the dance, while, attending her, a thousand
mountain nymphs are massing themselves on either
side; she, her quiver on her shoulder, as she steps, towers
over the whole goddess sisterhood, while Latona’s[105] bosom
thrills silently with delight; such was Dido—such she 10
bore herself triumphant through the midst, to speed the
work which had empire for its prospect. Then, at the doors
of the goddess, under the midmost vaulting of the temple,
with a fence of arms round her, supported high on a throne,
she took her seat. There she was giving laws and judgments 15
to her citizens, and equalizing the burden of their
tasks by fair partition, or draughting it by lot, when suddenly
Æneas sees coming among the great crowd Antheus
and Sergestus, and brave Cloanthus, and other of the
Teucrians, whom the black storm had scattered over the 20
deep, and carried far away to other coasts. Astounded
was he, overwhelmed, too, was Achates, all for joy and
fear: eagerly were they burning to join hands with theirs,
but the unexplained mystery confounds their minds.
They carry on the concealment, and look out from the 25
hollow cloud that wraps them, to learn what fortune their
mates have had, on what shore they are leaving their fleet,
what is their errand here—for they were on their way,
a deputation from all the crews, suing for grace, and were
making for the temple with loud cries. 30
After they had gained an entrance, and had obtained
leave to speak in the presence, Ilioneus, the eldest, thus
began, calm of soul:—
“Gracious queen, to whom Jupiter has given to found a
new city, and to restrain by force of law the pride of savage 35
nations, we, hapless Trojans, driven by the winds over
every sea, make our prayer to you—keep off from our
ships the horrors of fire, have pity on a pious race, and
vouchsafe a nearer view to our affairs. We are not come
to carry the havoc of the sword into the homes of Libya—to
snatch booty and hurry it to the shore; such violence
is not in our nature; such insolence were not for
the vanquished. There is a place—the Greeks call it 5
Hesperia—a land old in story, strong in arms and in
the fruitfulness of its soil; the Œnotrians were its settlers;
now report says that later generations have called the
nation Italian, from the name of their leader. Thither
were we voyaging, when, rising with a sudden swell, Orion,[106] 10
lord of the storm, carried us into hidden shoals, and far
away by the stress of reckless gales over the water, the
surge mastering us, and over pathless rocks scattered us
here and there: a small remnant, we drifted hither on to
your shores. What race of men have we here? What 15
country is so barbarous as to sanction a native usage like
this? Even the hospitality of the sand is forbidden us—they
draw the sword, and will not let us set foot on the
land’s edge. If you defy the race of men, and the weapons
that mortals wield, yet look to have to do with gods, who 20
watch over the right and the wrong. Æneas was our king,
than whom never man breathed more just, more eminent
in piety, or in war and martial prowess. If the Fates are
keeping our hero alive—if he is feeding on this upper
air, and not yet lying down in death’s cruel shade—all 25
our fears are over, nor need you be sorry to have made
the first advance in the contest of kindly courtesy. The
realm of Sicily, too, has cities for us, and store of arms,
and a hero-king of Trojan blood, Acestes.[o] Give us leave
but to lay up on shore our storm-beaten fleet, to fashion 30
timber in your forests, and strip boughs for our oars, that,
if we are allowed to sail for Italy, our comrades and king
restored to us, we may make our joyful way to Italy and
to Latium; or, if our safety is swallowed up, and thou,
best father of the Teucrians, art the prey of the Libyan 35
deep, and a nation’s hope lives no longer in Iulus, then, at
least, we may make for Sicania’s straits, and the houses
standing to welcome us, whence we came hither, and may
find a king in Acestes.” Such was the speech of Ilioneus;
an accordant clamour burst at once from all the sons of
Dardanus.
Then briefly Dido, with downcast look, makes reply:—“Teucrians!
unburden your hearts of fear, lay your anxieties 5
aside. It is the stress of danger and the infancy of
my kingdom that make me put this policy in motion and
protect my frontiers with a guard all about. The men
of Æneas and the city of Troy—who can be ignorant of
them?—the deeds and the doers, and all the blaze of that 10
mighty war? Not so blunt are the wits we Punic folk
carry with us, not so wholly does the sun turn his back
on our Tyrian town when he harnesses his steeds.
Whether you make your choice of Hesperia the great, and
the old realm of Saturn, or of the borders of Eryx and their 15
king Acestes, I will send you on your way with an escort
to protect you, and will supply you with stores. Or would
you like to settle along with me in my kingdom here?
Look at the city I am building, it is yours, lay up your
ships, Trojan and Tyrian shall be dealt with by me without 20
distinction. Would to heaven your king were here too,
driven by the gale that drove you hither—Æneas himself!
For myself, I will send trusty messengers along the coast,
with orders to traverse the furthest parts of Libya, in case
he should be shipwrecked and wandering anywhere in 25
forest or town.”
Excited by her words, brave Achates and father Æneas,
too, were burning long ere this to break out of their cloud.
Achates first accosts Æneas:—“Goddess-born, what purpose
now is foremost in your mind? All you see is safe, 30
our fleet and our mates are restored to us. One is missing,
whom our own eyes saw in the midst of the surge swallowed
up, all the rest is even as your mother told us.”
Scarce had he spoken when the cloud that enveloped
them suddenly parts asunder and clears into the open sky. 35
Out stood Æneas, and shone[107] again in the bright sunshine,
his face and his bust the image of a god, for his great
mother had shed graceful tresses over her son’s brow,
and the glowing flush of youth, and had breathed the
breath of beauty and gladness into his eyes, loveliness such
as the artist’s touch imparts to ivory, or when silver or
Parian marble is enchased[108] with yellow gold. Then he
addresses the queen, and speaks suddenly to the astonishment 5
of all:—“Here am I whom you are seeking, before
you,—Æneas, the Trojan, snatched from the jaws of the
Libyan wave. O heart that alone of all has found pity for
Troy’s cruel agonies—that makes us, poor remnants of
Danaan fury, utterly spent by all the chances of land and 10
sea, destitute of all, partners of its city, of its very palace!
To pay such a debt of gratitude, Dido, is more than we can
do—more than can be done by all the survivors of the
Dardan nation, now scattered the wide world over. May
the gods—if there are powers that regard the pious, if 15
justice and conscious rectitude count for aught anywhere
on earth—may they give you the reward you merit!
What age had the happiness to bring you forth? what
godlike parents gave such nobleness to the world? While
the rivers run into the sea, while the shadows sweep along 20
the mountain-sides, while the stars draw life from the
sky, your glory and your name and your praise shall still
endure, whatever the land whose call I must obey.” So
saying, he stretches out his right hand to his friend Ilioneus,
his left to Serestus, and so on to others, gallant Gyas 25
and gallant Cloanthus.
Astounded was Dido, Sidon’s daughter, first at the hero’s
presence, then at his enormous sufferings, and she bespoke
him thus:—“What chance is it, goddess-born, that is
hunting you through such a wilderness of perils? what 30
violence throws you on our savage coasts? Are you, indeed,
the famed Æneas, whom to Anchises the Dardan,
Venus, queen of light and love, bore by the stream of
Simois? Aye, I remember Teucer coming to Sidon, driven
from the borders of his fatherland, hoping to gain a new 35
kingdom by the aid of Belus. Belus, my sire, was then
laying waste the rich fields of Cyprus, and ruling the isle
with a conqueror’s sway. Ever since that time I knew
the fate of the Trojan city, and your name, and the
Pelasgian princes. Foe as he was, he would always extol
the Teucrians with signal praise, and profess that
he himself came of the ancient Teucrian stock. Come
then, brave men, and make our dwellings your home. 5
I, too, have had a fortune like yours, which, after the
buffeting of countless sufferings, has been pleased that
I should find rest in this land at last. Myself no stranger
to sorrow, I am learning[109] to succour the unhappy.”
With these words, at the same moment she ushers 10
Æneas into her queenly palace, and orders a solemn
sacrifice at the temples of the gods. Meantime, as if
this were nought, she sends to his comrades at the shore
twenty bulls, a hundred huge swine with backs all bristling,
a hundred fat lambs with their mothers, and the 15
wine-god’s jovial bounty.
But the palace within is laid out with all the splendour of
regal luxury, and in the centre of the mansion they are
making ready for the banquet; the coverlets are embroidered
and of princely purple—on the tables is massy 20
silver, and chased on gold the gallant exploits of Tyrian
ancestors, a long, long chain of story, derived through
hero after hero ever since the old nation was young.
Æneas, for his fatherly love would not leave his heart at
rest, sends on Achates with speed to the ships to tell Ascanius 25
the news and conduct him to the city. On Ascanius
all a fond parent’s anxieties are centred. Presents,
moreover, rescued from the ruins of Ilion, he bids him
bring—a pall stiff with figures of gold, and a veil with
a border of yellow acanthus,[110] adornments of Argive 30
Helen,[111] which she carried away from Mycenæ, when she
went to Troy and to her unblessed bridal, her mother
Leda’s marvellous gift; the sceptre, too, which Ilione
had once borne, the eldest of Priam’s daughters, and the
string of pearls for the neck, and the double coronal of 35
jewels and gold. With this to despatch, Achates was
bending his way to the ships.
But the lady of Cythera is casting new wiles, new devices
in her breast, that Cupid,[112] form and feature changed, may
arrive in the room of the charmer Ascanius, and by the
presents he brings influence the queen to madness, and turn
the very marrow of her bones to fire. She fears the two-faced
generation, the double-tongued sons of Tyre; Juno’s 5
hatred scorches her like a flame, and as night draws on the
care comes back to her. So then with these words she
addresses her winged Love:—“My son, who art alone my
strength and my mighty power, my son, who laughest to
scorn our great father’s Typhœan[113] thunderbolts, to thee 10
I fly for aid, and make suppliant prayer of thy majesty.
How thy brother Æneas is tossed on the ocean the whole
world over by Juno’s implacable rancour I need not tell
thee—nay, thou hast often mingled thy grief with mine.
He is now the guest of Dido, the Phœnician woman, and 15
the spell of a courteous tongue is laid on him, and I fear
what may be the end of taking shelter under Juno’s
wing; she will never be idle at a time on which so much
hangs. Thus then I am planning to be first in the field,
surprising the queen by stratagem, and encompassing 20
her with fire, that no power may be able to work a change
in her, but that a mighty passion for Æneas may keep
her mine. For the way in which thou mayest bring this
about, listen to what I have been thinking. The young
heir of royalty, at his loved father’s summons, is making 25
ready to go to this Sidonian city—my soul’s darling
that he is—the bearer of presents that have survived
the sea and the flames of Troy. Him I will lull in deep
sleep and hide him in my hallowed dwelling high on
Cythera or Idalia, that by no chance he may know or mar 30
our plot. Do thou then for a single night, no more, artfully
counterfeit his form, and put on the boy’s usual looks,
thyself a boy, that when Dido, at the height of her joy,
shall take thee into her lap while the princely board is
laden and the vine-god’s liquor flowing, when she shall 35
be caressing thee and printing her fondest kisses on thy
cheek, thou mayest breathe concealed fire into her veins,
and steal upon her with poison.”[114]
At once Love complies with his fond mother’s words,
puts off his wings, and walks rejoicing in the gait of Iulus.
As for Ascanius, Venus sprinkles his form all over with the
dew of gentle slumber,[115] and carries him, as a goddess may,
lapped in her bosom, into Idalia’s lofty groves, where a 5
soft couch of amaracus enfolds him with its flowers, and
the fragrant breath of its sweet shade. Meanwhile Cupid
was on his way, all obedience, bearing the royal presents to
the Tyrians, and glad to follow Achates. When he arrives,
he finds the queen already settled on the gorgeous tapestry 10
of a golden couch, and occupying the central place. Already
father Æneas, already the chivalry of Troy are flocking
in, and stretching themselves here and there on coverlets
of purple. There are servants offering them water
for their hands, and deftly producing the bread from the 15
baskets, and presenting towels with shorn nap. Within
are fifty maidens, whose charge is in course to pile up provisions
in lasting store, and light up with fire the gods of the
hearth. A hundred others there are, and male attendants
of equal number and equal age, to load the table with 20
dishes, and set on the cups. The Tyrians, too, have
assembled in crowds through the festive hall, and scatter
themselves as invited over the embroidered couches.
There is marvelling at Æneas’ presents, marvelling at
Iulus, at those glowing features, where the god shines 25
through, and those words which he feigns so well, and at
the robe and the veil with the yellow acanthus border.
Chief of all, the unhappy victim of coming ruin cannot
satisfy herself with gazing,[116] and kindles as she looks,
the Phœnician woman, charmed with the boy and the 30
presents alike. He, after he has hung long in Æneas’
arms and round his neck, gratifying the intense fondness
of the sire he feigned to be his, finds his way to the queen.
She is riveted by him—riveted, eye and heart, and ever
and anon fondles him in her lap[117]—poor Dido, unconscious 35
how great a god is sitting heavy on that wretched bosom.
But he, with his mind still bent on his Acidalian mother,
is beginning to efface the name of Sychæus letter by letter,
and endeavouring to surprise by a living passion affections
long torpid, and a heart long unused to love.
When the banquet’s first lull was come, and the board
removed, then they set up the huge bowls and wreathe the
wine. A din rings to the roof—the voice rolls through 5
those spacious halls; lamps[118] hang from the gilded ceiling,
burning brightly, and flambeau-fires put out the night.
Then the queen called for a cup, heavy with jewels and
gold, and filled it with unmixed wine; the same which
had been used by Belus, and every king from Belus downward. 10
Then silence was commanded through the hall.
“Jupiter, for thou hast the name of lawgiver for guest and
host, grant that this day may be auspicious alike for the
Tyrians and the voyagers from Troy, and that its memory
may long live among our posterity. Be with us, Bacchus,[119] 15
the giver of jollity, and Juno, the queen of our blessings;
and you, the lords of Tyre, may your goodwill grace this
meeting.” She said, and poured on the table an offering
of the wine, and, the libation made, touched the cup
first with her lips, then handed it to Bitias, rallying his 20
slowness. Eagerly he quaffed the foaming goblet, and
drenched himself deep with its brimming gold. Then
came the other lords in order. Iopas, the long-haired
bard, takes his gilded lyre, and fills the hall with music;
he, whose teacher was the mighty Atlas.[120] His song[121] is of 25
the wanderings of the moon and the agonies of the sun,
whence sprung man’s race and the cattle, whence rain-water
and fire; of Arcturus and the showery Hyades,
and the twin Bears; why the winter suns make such
haste to dip in ocean, or what is the retarding cause that 30
bids the nights move slowly. Plaudits redouble from
the Tyrians, and the Trojans follow the lead. With
varied talk, too, she kept lengthening out the night, unhappy
Dido, drinking draughts of love long and deep,
as she asked much about Priam, about Hector much; 35
now what were the arms in which Aurora’s son had come
to battle; now what Diomede’s steeds were like; now how
great was Achilles. “Or rather, gentle guest,” cries she,
“tell us the story from the very first—all about the stratagems
of the Danaans, and the sad fate of your country,
and your own wanderings—for this is now the seventh
summer that is wafting you a wanderer still over every
land and wave.”