XLVIII. "Then bade her fly the country, and revealed,
To aid her flight, an old and unknown weight
Of gold and silver, in the ground concealed.
Thus roused, her friends she gathers. All await
Her summons, who the tyrant fear or hate.
Some ships at hand, chance-anchored in the bay,
They seize and load them with the costly freight,
And far off o'er the deep is borne away
424
Pygmalion's hoarded pelf. A woman leads the way.

XLIX. "Hither, where now the walls and fortress high,
Of Carthage, and her rising homes are found,
They came, and there full cheaply did they buy,
Such space—called [Byrsa] from the deed—of ground
As one bull's-hide could compass and surround.
But who are ye, pray answer? on what quest
Come ye? and whence and whither are ye bound?"
Her then Æneas, from his inmost breast
433
Heaving a deep-drawn sigh, with labouring speech addressed:
L. "O Goddess, should I from the first unfold,
Or could'st thou hear, the annals of our woe,
Eve's star were shining, ere the tale were told.
From ancient Troy—if thou the name dost know—
A chance-met storm hath driven us to and fro,
And tost us on the Libyan shores. My name
Is good Æneas; from the flames and foe
I bear Troy's rescued deities. My fame
442
Outsoars the stars of heaven; a Jove-born race, we claim
LI. "A home in fair Italia far away.
With twice ten ships I climbed the Phrygian main,
My goddess-mother pointing out the way,
As Fate commanded. Now scarce seven remain,
Wave-worn and shattered by the tempest's strain.
Myself, a stranger, friendless and unknown,
From Europe driven and Asia, roam in vain
The wilds of Libya"—Then his plaintive tone
451
No more could Venus bear, but interrupts her son;
LII. "Stranger," she answered, "whosoe'er thou be;
Not unbeloved of heavenly powers, I ween,
Thou breath'st the vital air, whom Fate's decree
Permits a Tyrian city to have seen.
But hence, and seek the palace of the queen.
Glad news I bear thee, of thy comrades brought,
The North-wind shifted and the skies serene;
Thy ships have gained the harbour which they sought,
460
Else vain my parents' lore the augury they taught.
LIII. "See yon twelve swans, in jubilant array,
Whom late Jove's eagle scattered through the sky;
Now these alight, now those the pitch survey.
As they, returning, sport with joyous cry,
And flap their wings and circle in the sky,
E'en so thy vessels and each late-lost crew
Safe now and scatheless in the harbour lie,
Or, crowding canvas, hold the port in view.
469
But hence, where leads the path, thy forward steps pursue."

LIV. So saying, she turned, and all refulgent showed
Her roseate neck, and heavenly fragrance sweet
Was breathed from her ambrosial hair. Down flowed
Her loosened raiment, streaming to her feet,
And by her walk the Goddess shone complete.
"Ah, mother mine!" he chides her, as she flies,
"Art thou, then, also cruel? Wherefore cheat
Thy son so oft with images and lies?
478
Why may I not clasp hands, and talk without disguise?"