XXXI. Daylight had failed; to mid Olympus' gate
Bright Phoebe drove her nightly-wandering wain.
Tiller in hand, the good Æneas sate
And trimmed the sails, while trouble tossed his brain.
When lo! around him thronged the Sea-nymphs' train,
Whom kind Cybele changed from ships of wood
To rule, as goddesses, the watery main.
As many as late, with brazen beaks, had stood		271
Linked to the shore, now swim in even line the flood.
XXXII. Far off, their king the goddesses beheld
And danced around him joyously, and lo,
Cymodocea, who in speech excelled,
Clings to the stern; breast-high the nymph doth show;
Her left hand oars the placid deep below.
Then, "Watchest thou, Æneas, child divine?
Watch on," she cries, "and let the canvas go.
Behold us, sea-nymphs, once a grove of pine		280
On Ida's sacred crest, the Trojans' ships and thine.
XXXIII. "When on us late the false Rutulian pressed
With sword and flame, perforce, sweet life to save,
We broke our chains, and wander in thy quest.
Our shape the Mother, pitying, changed and gave
Immortal life, to spend beneath the wave.
Thy son, he stays in Latin leaguer pent;
Arcadian horsemen, with the Tuscans brave,
Hold tryst to aid. His troops hath Turnus sent,		289
Charged, with opposing arms, their succour to prevent.
XXXIV. "Now rise, and when to-morrow's dawn shall shine,
Bid forth thy followers to arms. Be bold,
And take this shield, the Fire-King's gift divine,
Invincible, immortal, rimm'd with gold.
Next morn—so truly as the word is told—
Huge heaps of dead Rutulian foes shall view."
She spake; her hand, departing, loosed its hold,
And pushed the vessel; well the way she knew;		298
Swift as a dart it flies; the rest its flight pursue.
XXXV. Wondering, Æneas pauses in amaze,
Yet hails the sign, and gladdens at the sight,
And, gazing on the vaulted skies, he prays,
"Mother of Heaven, whom Dindymus' famed height,
And tower-girt towns, and lions yoked delight,
Assist the Phrygians, and direct the fray.
Kind Goddess, prosper us, and speed aright
This augury." He ended, and the day		307
Returning, climbed the sky, and chased the night away.
XXXVI. Forthwith he calls his comrades to arise
And take fresh heart, and for the fight prepare.
Now, from the stern, the Dardans he espies,
Hemmed in their camp. Aloft his hands upbear
The burning shield. With shouts his Dardans tear
Heaven's concave. Hope with fury fires their veins.
Fast fly their darts, as when through darkened air
With clang and clamour the Strymonian cranes		316
Stream forth, the signal given, from winter's winds and rains.

XXXVII. Then lost in wonderment, the foemen stand,
Till, looking round, they see the watery ways
A sea of ships, all crowding to the land,
The flaming crest, the helmet all ablaze,
The golden shield-boss, with its lightning rays.
As when a comet, bright with blazing hair,
Its blood-red beams athwart the night displays,
Or [Sirius,] rising, with its baleful glare		325
Brings pestilence and drought, and saddens all the air.
XXXVIII. Yet quails not Turnus; still his hopes are high
To seize the shore, and keep them from the land.
Now cheering, and now chiding, rings his cry
"Lo, here—'tis here, the battle ye demand.
Up, crush them; war is in the warrior's hand.
Think of your fathers and their deeds of old,
Your homes, your wives. Forestall them on the strand,
Now, while they totter, while the foot's faint hold		334
Slips on the shelving beach. Fair Fortune aids the bold."
XXXIX. So saying, he ponders inly, whom to choose
To mind the siege, and whom the foe to meet.
By planks meanwhile Æneas lands his crews.
Some wait until the languid waves retreat,
Then, leaping, to the shallows trust their feet;
Some vault with oars. Brave Tarchon marks, quick-eyed,
A sheltered spot, where neither surf doth beat,
Nor breakers roar, but smooth the waters glide,		343
And up the sloping shore unbroken swells the tide.