But now with news of flaming ships there goes a messenger,
Eumelus, to Anchises' tomb, and theatre-seats, and they
Look round themselves and see the soot black in the smoke-cloud play.
Then first Ascanius, e'en as blithe the riding-play he led,
So eager now he rode his ways to camp bewilderèd,
And nowise might they hold him back, his masters spent of breath.
"O what new madness then is this? What, what will ye?" he saith.
"O wretched townswomen, no foe, no camp of Argive men671
Ye burn, but your own hopes ye burn. Lo, your Ascanius then!"
Therewith before their feet he cast his empty helm afar,
Dight wherewithal he stirred in sport that image of the war.
And thither now Æneas sped, and crowd of Teucrian folk;
Whereat the women diversely along the sea-shore broke,
Fleeing afeard, and steal to woods and whatso hollow den,
And loathe their deed, and loathe the light, as changed they know again
Their very friends, and Juno now from every heart is cast.
But none the less the flaming rage for ever holdeth fast680
With might untamed; the fire lives on within the timbers wet,
The caulking sends forth sluggish smoke, the slow heat teeth doth set
Upon the keel; to inmost heart down creeps the fiery bale;
Nor all the might of mighty men nor rivers poured avail.
Then good Æneas from his back the raiment off him tore,
And called the Gods to aid, and high his palms to heaven upbore:
"Great Jove, if not all utterly a hater thou art grown
Of Trojan folk, and if thy love of old yet looketh down
On deeds of men, give to our ships to win from out the flame,
O Father, now, and snatch from death the feeble Teucrian name,690
Or else thrust down the remnant left, if so we merit aught,
With bolt of death, and with thine hand sweep us away to nought!"
Scarce had he given forth the word, ere midst outpouring rain,
The black storm rageth measureless, and earthly height and plain
Shake to the thundering; all the sky casts forth confusèd flood,
Most black with gathering of the South: then all the ship-hulls stood
Fulfilled with water of the heavens; the half-burned oak was drenched,
Until at last to utmost spark the smouldering fire is quenched,
And all the ships escaped the bane of fiery end save four.
But, shaken by such bitter hap, Father Æneas bore700
This way and that; and turned the cares on all sides in his breast:
Whether amid Sicilian fields to set him down in rest,
Forgetting Fate, or yet to strive for shores of Italy.
Then the old Nautes, whom erewhile had Pallas set on high
By her exceeding plenteous craft and lore that she had taught:—
She gave him answers; telling him how wrath of God was wrought,
And how it showed, and what the law of fate would ask and have:—
This man unto Æneas now such words of solace gave:
"O Goddess-born, Fate's ebb and flow still let us follow on,
Whate'er shall be, by bearing all must Fortune's fight be won.710
Dardan Acestes have ye here, sprung of the Godhead's seed;
Take his goodwill and fellowship to help thee in thy rede.
Give him the crews of those burnt ships; to him let such-like go
As faint before thy mighty hope and shifting weal and woe.
The mothers weary of the sea, the elders spent with years,
And whatsoever feeble is and whatsoever fears,
Choose out, and in this land of his walls let the weary frame;
And they their town by leave of thee shall e'en Acesta name."
So was he kindled by the speech of that wise ancient friend,
Yet still down every way of care his thought he needs must send.720
But now the wain of mirky night was holding middle sky,
When lo, his father's image seemed to fall from heaven the high,
And suddenly Anchises' lips such words to him poured forth: