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,