Now good Æneas through the night had many things in mind,
And set himself to fare abroad at first of holy day
To search the new land what it was, and on what shore he lay
Driven by the wind; if manfolk there abode, or nought but deer,
(For waste it seemed), and tidings true back to his folk to bear.
So in that hollow bight of groves beneath the cavern cleft,310
All hidden by the leafy trees and quavering shades, he left
His ships: and he himself afoot went with Achates lone,
Shaking in hand two slender spears with broad-beat iron done.
But as he reached the thicket's midst his mother stood before,
Who virgin face, and virgin arms, and virgin habit bore,
A Spartan maid; or like to her who tames the Thracian horse,
Harpalyce, and flies before the hurrying Hebrus' course.
For huntress-wise on shoulder she had hung the handy bow,
And given all her hair abroad for any wind to blow,
And, naked-kneed, her kirtle long had gathered in a lap:320
She spake the first:
"Ho youths," she said, "tell me by any hap
If of my sisters any one ye saw a wandering wide
With quiver girt, and done about with lynx's spotted hide,
Or following of the foaming boar with shouts and eager feet?"
So Venus; and so Venus' son began her words to meet:
"I have not seen, nor have I heard thy sisters nigh this place,
O maid:—and how to call thee then? for neither is thy face
Of mortals, nor thy voice of men: O very Goddess thou!
What! Phœbus' sister? or of nymphs whom shall I call thee now?
But whosoe'er thou be, be kind and lighten us our toil,330
And teach us where beneath the heavens, which spot of earthly soil
We are cast forth; unlearned of men, unlearned of land we stray,
By might of wind and billows huge here driven from out our way.
Our right hands by thine altar-horns shall fell full many a host."
Spake Venus: "Nowise am I worth so much of honour's cost:
The Tyrian maids are wont to bear the quiver even as I,
And even so far upon the leg the purple shoe-thong tie.
The Punic realm thou seest here, Agenor's town and folk,
But set amidst of Libyan men unused to bear the yoke.
Dido is Lady of the Land, who fled from Tyre the old,340
And from her brother: weary long were all the ill deed told,
And long its winding ways, but I light-foot will overpass.
Her husband was Sychæus hight, of land most rich he was
Of all Phoenicians: she, poor wretch! loved him with mighty love,
Whose father gave her, maid, to him, and first the rites did move
Of wedlock: but as King of Tyre her brother did abide,
Pygmalion, more swollen up in sin than any man beside:
Mad hatred yoked the twain of them, he blind with golden lust,
Godless with stroke of iron laid Sychæus in the dust
Unwares before the altar-horns; nor of the love did reck350
His sister had, but with vain hope played on the lover sick,
And made a host of feignings false, and hid the matter long.
Till in her sleep the image came of that unburied wrong,
Her husband dead; in wondrous wise his face was waxen pale:
His breast with iron smitten through, the altar of his bale,
The hooded sin of evil house, to her he open laid,
And speedily to flee away from fatherland he bade;
And for the help of travel showed earth's hidden wealth of old,
A mighty mass that none might tell of silver and of gold.
Sore moved hereby did Dido straight her flight and friends prepare:360
They meet together, such as are or driven by biting fear,
Or bitter hatred of the wretch: such ships as hap had dight
They fall upon and lade with gold; forth fare the treasures bright
Of wretch Pygmalion o'er the sea, a woman first therein.
And so they come unto the place where ye may see begin
The towers of Carthage, and the walls new built that mighty grow,
And bought the Byrsa-field good cheap, as still the name shall show,
So much of land as one bull's hide might scantly go about
—But ye forsooth, what men are ye, from what land fare ye out,
And whither go ye on your ways?"370
Her questioning in speech
He answered, and a heavy sigh from inmost heart did reach:
"O Goddess, might I tread again first footsteps of our way,
And if the annals of our toil thine hearkening ears might stay,
Yet Vesper first on daylight dead should shut Olympus' door.
From Troy the old, if yet perchance your ears have felt before
That name go by, do we come forth, and, many a water past,
A chance-come storm hath drifted us on Libyan shores at last.
I am Æneas, God-lover; I snatched forth from the foe
My Gods to bear aboard with me, a fame for heaven to know.
I seek the Italian fatherland, and Jove-descended line;380
Twice ten the ships were that I manned upon the Phrygian brine,
My Goddess-mother led the way, we followed fate god-given;
And now scarce seven are left to me by wave and east-wind riven;
And I through Libyan deserts stray, a man unknown and poor,
From Asia cast, from Europe cast,"
She might abide no more
To hear his moan: she thrusts a word amidst his grief and saith:
"Nay thou art not God's castaway, who drawest mortal breath,
And fairest to the Tyrian town, if aught thereof I know. Set on to Dido's threshold then e'en as the way doth show.
For take the tidings of thy ships and folk brought back again390
By shifting of the northern wind all safe from off the main:
Unless my parents learned me erst of soothsaying to wot
But idly. Lo there twice seven swans disporting in a knot,
Whom falling from the plain of air drave down the bird of Jove
From open heaven: strung out at length they hang the earth above,
And now seem choosing where to pitch, now on their choice to gaze,
As wheeling round with whistling wings they sport in diverse ways
And with their band ring round the pole and cast abroad their song.
Nought otherwise the ships and youth that unto thee belong
Hold haven now, or else full sail to harbour-mouth are come.400
Set forth, set forth and tread the way e'en as it leadeth home."
She spake, she turned, from rosy neck the light of heaven she cast,
And from her hair ambrosial the scent of Gods went past
Upon the wind, and o'er her feet her skirts fell shimmering down,
And very God she went her ways. Therewith his mother known,
With such a word he followed up a-fleeing from his eyes:
"Ah cruel as a God! and why with images and lies
Dost thou beguile me? wherefore then is hand to hand not given
And we to give and take in words that come from earth and heaven?"
Such wise he chided her, and then his footsteps townward bent:410
But Venus with a dusky air did hedge them as they went,
And widespread cloak of cloudy stuff the Goddess round them wrapped,
Lest any man had seen them there, or bodily had happed
Across their road their steps to stay, and ask their dealings there.
But she to Paphos and her home went glad amidst the air:
There is her temple, there they stand, an hundred altars meet,
Warm with Sabæan incense-smoke, with new-pulled blossoms sweet.
But therewithal they speed their way as led the road along;
And now they scale a spreading hill that o'er the town is hung,
And looking downward thereupon hath all the burg in face.420
Æneas marvels how that world was once a peasants' place,
He marvels at the gates, the roar and rattle of the ways.
Hot-heart the Tyrians speed the work, and some the ramparts raise,
Some pile the burg high, some with hand roll stones up o'er the ground;
Some choose a place for dwelling-house and draw a trench around;
Some choose the laws, and lords of doom, the holy senate choose.
These thereaway the havens dig, and deep adown sink those
The founding of the theatre walls, or cleave the living stone
In pillars huge, one day to show full fair the scene upon.
As in new summer 'neath the sun the bees are wont to speed430
Their labour in the flowery fields, whereover now they lead
The well-grown offspring of their race, or when the cells they store
With flowing honey, till fulfilled of sweets they hold no more;
Or take the loads of new-comers, or as a watch well set
Drive off the lazy herd of drones that they no dwelling get;
Well speeds the work, and thymy sweet the honey's odour is.
"Well favoured of the Fates are ye, whose walls arise in bliss!"
Æneas cries, a-looking o'er the housetops spread below;
Then, wonderful to tell in tale, hedged round with cloud doth go
Amid the thickest press of men, and yet of none is seen.440
A grove amid the town there is, a pleasant place of green,
Where erst the Tyrians, beat by waves and whirling of the wind,
Dug out the token Juno once had bidden them hope to find,
An eager horse's head to wit: for thus their folk should grow
Far-famed in war for many an age, of victual rich enow.
There now did Dido, Sidon-born, uprear a mighty fane
To Juno, rich in gifts, and rich in present godhead's gain:
On brazen steps its threshold rose, and brass its lintel tied,
And on their hinges therewithal the brazen door-leaves cried.
And now within that grove again a new thing thrusting forth450
'Gan lighten fear; for here to hope Æneas deemed it worth,
And trust his fortune beaten down that yet it might arise.
For there while he abode the Queen, and wandered with his eyes
O'er all the temple, musing on the city's fate to be,
And o'er the diverse handicraft and works of mastery,
Lo there, set out before his face the battles that were Troy's,
And wars, whereof all folk on earth had heard the fame and noise;
King Priam, the Atridæ twain, Achilles dire to both.
He stood, and weeping spake withal:
"Achates, lo! forsooth
What place, what land in all the earth but with our grief is stored?460
Lo Priam! and even here belike deed hath its own reward.
Lo here are tears for piteous things that touch men's hearts anigh:
Cast off thy fear! this fame today shall yet thy safety buy."
And with the empty painted thing he feeds his mind withal,
Sore groaning, and a very flood adown his face did fall.
For there he saw, as war around of Pergamus they cast,
Here fled the Greeks, the Trojan youth for ever following fast;
There fled the Phrygians, on their heels high-helmed Achilles' car;
Not far off, fair with snowy cloths, the tents of Rhesus are;
He knew them weeping: they of old in first of sleep betrayed,470
Tydides red with many a death a waste of nothing made,
And led those fiery steeds to camp ere ever they might have
One mouthful of the Trojan grass, or drink of Xanthus' wave.
And lo again, where Troilus is fleeing weaponless,
Unhappy youth, and all too weak to bear Achilles' stress,
By his own horses, fallen aback, at empty chariot borne,
Yet holding on the reins thereof; his neck, his tresses torn
O'er face of earth, his wrested spear a-writing in the dust.
Meanwhile were faring to the fane of Pallas little just
The wives of Troy with scattered hair, bearing the gown refused,480
Sad they and suppliant, whose own hands their very bosoms bruised,
While fixed, averse, the Goddess kept her eyes upon the ground.
Thrice had Achilles Hector dragged the walls of Troy around,
And o'er his body, reft of soul, was chaffering now for gold.
Deep groaned Æneas from his heart in such wise to behold
The car, the spoils, the very corpse of him, his fellow dead,
To see the hands of Priam there all weaponless outspread.
Yea, thrust amidst Achæan lords, his very self he knew;
The Eastland hosts he saw, and arms of Memnon black of hue.
There mad Penthesilea leads the maids of moony shield,490
The Amazons, and burns amidst the thousands of the field,
And with her naked breast thrust out above the golden girth,
The warrior maid hath heart to meet the warriors of the earth.