IV. [Androgeos'] death is graven on the gate;
There stand the sons of Cecrops, doomed each year
With seven victims to atone his fate.
The lots are drawn; the fatal urn is near.
Here, o'er the deep the Gnossian fields appear,
The bull—the cruel passion—the embrace
Stol'n from Pasiphae—all the tale is here;
The Minotaur, half human, beast in face,		28
Record of nameless lust, and token of disgrace.
V. There, toil-wrought house and labyrinthine grove,
With tangled maze, too intricate to tread,
But that, in pity for the queen's great love,
Its secret Dædalus revealed, and led
Her lover's blinded footsteps with a thread.
There, too, had sorrow not the wish denied,
Thy name and fame, poor Icarus, were read.
Twice in the gold to carve thy fate he tried,		37
And twice the father's hands dropped faltering to his side.
VI. So they in gazing had the time beguiled,
But now, returning from his quest, comes near
Achates, with Deiphobe, the child
Of Glaucus, Phoebus' and Diana's seer.
"Not this," she cries, "the time for tarrying here
For shows like these. Go, hither bring with speed
Seven ewes, the choicest, and with each a steer
Unyoked, in honour of the God to bleed."		46
So to the Chief she spake, and straight his followers heed.
VII. Into the lofty temple now with speed,—
A huge cave hollowed in the mountain's side,—
The priestess calls the Teucrians. Thither lead
A hundred doors, a hundred entries wide,
A hundred voices from the rock inside
Peal forth, the Sibyl answering. So they
Had reached the threshold, when the maiden cried,
"Now 'tis the time to seek the fates and pray;		55
Behold, behold the God!" and standing there, straightway,
VIII. Her colour and her features change; loose streams
Her hair disordered, and her heart distrest
Swells with wild frenzy. Larger now she seems,
Her voice not mortal, as her heaving breast
Pants, with the approaching Deity possest.
"Pray, Trojan," peals her warning utterance, "pray!
Cease not, Æneas, nor withhold thy quest,
Nor stint thy vows. While dumbly ye delay,		64
Ne'er shall its yawning doors the spell-bound house display."
IX. She ceased: at once an icy chill ran through
The sturdy Trojans. From his inmost heart
Thus prayed the King: "O Phoebus, wont to view
With pity Troy's sore travail; thou, whose art
True to Achilles aimed the Dardan dart,
How oft, thou guiding, have I tracked the main
Round mighty lands, to earth's remotest part
Massylian tribes and Libya's sandy plain:		73
Scarce now the flying shores of Italy we gain.
X. "Enough, thus far Troy's destinies to bear,
Ye, too, at length, your anger may abate
And deign the race of Pergamus to spare,
O Gods and Goddesses, who viewed with hate
Troy and the glories of the Dardan state.
And thou, dread mistress of prophetic lore,
Grant us—I ask but what is due by Fate,
Our promised realms—that on the Latian shore		82
Troy's sons and wandering gods may find a home once more.
XI. "To Phoebus then and Trivia's sacred name,
Thy patron powers, a temple will I rear
Of solid marble, and due rites proclaim
And festal days, for votaries each year
The name of guardian Phoebus to revere.
Thee, too, hereafter in our realms await
Shrines of the stateliest, for thy name is dear.
There safe shall rest the mystic words of Fate,		91
And chosen priests shall guard the oracles of state.
XII. "Only to leaves commit not, priestess kind,
Thy verse, lest fragments of the mystic scroll
Fly, tost abroad, the playthings of the wind.
Thyself in song the oracle unroll."
He ceased; the seer, impatient of control,
Strives, like a frenzied Bacchant, in her cell,
To shake the mighty deity from her soul.
So much the more, her raging heart to quell,		100
He tires the foaming mouth, and shapes her to his spell.
XIII. Then yawned the hundred gates, and every door,
Self-opening suddenly, revealed the fane,
And through the air the Sibyl's answer bore:
"O freed from Ocean's perils, but in vain,
Worse evils yet upon the land remain.
Doubt not; Troy's sons shall reach Lavinium's shore,
And rule in Latium; so the Fates ordain.
Yet shall they rue their coming. Woes in store,		109
Wars, savage wars, I see, and Tiber foam with gore.