XXXIV. "'Ye seek Italia and, with favouring wind,
Shall reach Italia, and her ports attain.
But ne'er the town, by Destiny assigned,
Your walls shall gird, till famine's pangs constrain
To gnaw your boards, in quittance for our slain.'
So spake the Fiend, and backward to the wood
Soared on the wing. Cold horror froze each vein.
Aghast and shuddering my comrades stood;		298
Down sank at once each heart, and terror chilled the blood.
XXXV. "No more with arms, for peace with vows and prayer
We sue, and pardon of these powers implore,
Or be they goddesses or birds of air
Obscene and dire; and lifting on the shore
His hands, Anchises doth the gods adore.
'O Heaven!' he cries, 'avert these threats; be kind
And stay the curse, and vex with plagues no more
A pious folk,' then bids the crews unbind		307
The stern-ropes, loose the sheets and spread them to the wind.

XXXVI. "The South-wind fills the canvas; on we fly
Where breeze and pilot drive us through the deep.
Soon, crowned with woods, Zacynthos we espy,
Dulichium, Same and the rock-bound steep
Of Neritos. Past [Ithaca] we creep,
[Laertes'] realms, and curse the land that bred
[Ulysses,] cause of all the woes we weep.
Soon, where Leucate lifts her cloud-capt head,		316
Looms forth Apollo's fane, the seaman's name of dread.
XXXVII. "Tired out we seek the little town, and run
The sterns ashore and anchor in the bay,
Saved beyond hope and glad the land is won,
And lustral rites, with blazing altars, pay
To Jove, and make the shores of Actium gay
With Ilian games, as, like our sires, we strip
And oil our sinews for the wrestler's play.
Proud, thus escaping from the foemen's grip,		325
Past all the Argive towns, through swarming Greeks, to slip.
XXXVIII. "Meanwhile the sun rolls round the mighty year,
And wintry North-winds vex the waves once more.
In front, above the temple-gates I rear
The brazen shield which once great Abas bore,
And mark the deed in writing on the door,
'Æneas these from conquering Greeks hath ta'en';
Then bid my comrades quit the port and shore,
And man the benches. They with rival strain		334
And slanting oar-blades sweep the levels of the main.

XXXIX. "[Phæacia's] heights with the horizon blend;
We skim [Epirus,] and [Chaonia's] bay
Enter, and to [Buthrotum's town] ascend.
Strange news we hear: A Trojan Greeks obey,
Helenus, master of the spouse and sway
Of Pyrrhus, and Andromache once more
Has yielded to a Trojan lord. Straightway
I burn to greet them, and the tale explore,		343
And from the harbour haste, and leave the ships and shore.
XL. "Within a grove Andromache that day,
Where Simois in fancy flowed again,
Her offerings chanced at Hector's grave to pay,
A turf-built cenotaph, with altars twain,
Source of her tears and sacred to the slain—
And called his shade. Distracted with amaze
She marked me, as the Trojan arms shone plain.
Heat leaves her frame; she stiffens with the gaze,		352
She swoons—and scarce at length these faltering words essays:
XLI. "'Real, then, real is thy face, and true
Thy tidings? Liv'st thou, child of heavenly seed?
If dead, then where is Hector?' Tears ensue,
And wailing, shrill as though her heart would bleed.
Then I, with stammering accents, intercede,
And, sore perplext, these broken words outthrow
To calm her transport, 'Yea, alive, indeed,—
Alive through all extremities of woe.		361
Doubt not, thou see'st the truth, no shape of empty show.