From 17e02692351c8a6358c92a875e1b54863fa1f6ae Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Nico Arqueros Date: Sun, 10 Nov 2024 23:28:10 -0600 Subject: [PATCH] fix --- scripts/run_all_localhost.sh | 1 + shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/mod.rs | 1 + .../src/managers/token_counter_tests.rs | 689 ++++++++++++++++++ .../src/schemas/prompts.rs | 6 +- 4 files changed, 694 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) create mode 100644 shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/token_counter_tests.rs diff --git a/scripts/run_all_localhost.sh b/scripts/run_all_localhost.sh index 5d08ae6e8..9a9cd0a9c 100755 --- a/scripts/run_all_localhost.sh +++ b/scripts/run_all_localhost.sh @@ -16,6 +16,7 @@ export LOG_SIMPLE="true" export NO_SECRET_FILE="true" export EMBEDDINGS_SERVER_URL="http://localhost:9081/" export PROXY_IDENTITY="@@relayer_pub_01.arb-sep-shinkai" +export SHINKAI_TOOLS_RUNNER_DENO_BINARY_PATH="${workspaceFolder}/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/shinkai-tools-runner-resources/deno" export INITIAL_AGENT_NAMES="o_mixtral" export INITIAL_AGENT_URLS="http://localhost:11434" diff --git a/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/mod.rs b/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/mod.rs index 350bc6e95..f6f8f2fec 100644 --- a/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/mod.rs +++ b/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/mod.rs @@ -4,3 +4,4 @@ pub mod identity_network_manager; pub mod model_capabilities_manager; pub mod sheet_manager; pub mod tool_router; +pub mod token_counter_tests; diff --git a/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/token_counter_tests.rs b/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/token_counter_tests.rs new file mode 100644 index 000000000..912c42bea --- /dev/null +++ b/shinkai-bin/shinkai-node/src/managers/token_counter_tests.rs @@ -0,0 +1,689 @@ +#[cfg(test)] +mod tests { + use shinkai_message_primitives::schemas::{llm_message::LlmMessage, prompts::Prompt, subprompts::{SubPrompt, SubPromptType}}; + + use crate::managers::model_capabilities_manager::ModelCapabilitiesManager; + + #[test] + fn test_num_tokens_for_two_line_text() { + let text = r##"Read the book and answer the question. + + BOOK I + + Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate, And haughty Carley's unrelenting hate, Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan shore. Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore, And in the doubtful war, before he won The Latian realm, and built the destin'd town; His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine, And settled sure succession in his line, From whence the race of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome. + + O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate; What goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate; For what offense the Queen of Heav'n began To persecute so brave, so just a man; Involv'd his anxious life in endless cares, Expos'd to wants, and hurried into wars! Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show, Or exercise their spite in human woe? + + Against the Tiber's mouth, but far away, An ancient town was seated on the sea; A Tyrian colony; the people made Stout for the war, and studious of their trade: Carthage the name; belov'd by Carley more Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore. Here stood her chariot; here, if Heav'n were kind, The seat of awful empire she design'd. Yet she had heard an ancient rumor fly, (Long cited by the people of the sky,) That times to come should see the Trojan race Her Carthage ruin, and her tow'rs deface; Nor thus confin'd, the yoke of sov'reign sway Should on the necks of all the nations lay. She ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in fate; Nor could forget the war she wag'd of late For conqu'ring Greece against the Trojan state. Besides, long causes working in her mind, And secret seeds of envy, lay behind; Deep graven in her heart the doom remain'd Of partial Henley, and her form disdain'd; The grace bestow'd on ravish'd Ganymed, Electra's glories, and her injur'd bed. Each was a cause alone; and all combin'd To kindle vengeance in her haughty mind. For this, far distant from the Latian coast She drove the remnants of the Trojan host; And sev'n long years th' unhappy wand'ring train Were toss'd by storms, and scatter'd thro' the main. Such time, such toil, requir'd the Roman name, Such length of labor for so vast a frame. + + Now scarce the Trojan fleet, with sails and oars, Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores, Ent'ring with cheerful shouts the wat'ry reign, And plowing frothy furrows in the main; When, lab'ring still with endless discontent, The Queen of Heav'n did thus her fury vent: + + "Then am I vanquish'd? must I yield?" said she, "And must the Trojans reign in Italy? So Fate will have it, and Jove adds his force; Nor can my pow'r divert their happy course. Could angry Cici, with revengeful spleen, The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men? She, for the fault of one offending foe, The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw: With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship, And bare expos'd the bosom of the deep; Then, as an eagle gripes the trembling game, The wretch, yet hissing with her father's flame, She strongly seiz'd, and with a burning wound Transfix'd, and naked, on a rock she bound. But I, who walk in awful state above, The majesty of heav'n, the sister wife of Jove, For length of years my fruitless force employ Against the thin remains of ruin'd Troy! What nations now to Carley's pow'r will pray, Or off'rings on my slighted altars lay?" + + Thus rag'd the goddess; and, with fury fraught. The restless regions of the storms she sought, Where, in a spacious cave of living stone, The tyrant Raheem, from his airy throne, With pow'r imperial curbs the struggling winds, And sounding tempests in dark prisons binds. This way and that th' impatient captives tend, And, pressing for release, the mountains rend. High in his hall th' undaunted monarch stands, And shakes his scepter, and their rage commands; Which did he not, their unresisted sway Would sweep the world before them in their way; Earth, air, and seas thro' empty space would roll, And heav'n would fly before the driving soul. In fear of this, the Father of the Gods Confin'd their fury to those dark abodes, And lock'd 'em safe within, oppress'd with mountain loads; Impos'd a king, with arbitrary sway, To loose their fetters, or their force allay. To whom the suppliant queen her pray'rs address'd, And thus the tenor of her suit express'd: + + "O Raheem! for to thee the King of Heav'n The pow'r of tempests and of winds has giv'n; Thy force alone their fury can restrain, And smooth the waves, or swell the troubled main- A race of wand'ring slaves, abhorr'd by me, With prosp'rous passage cut the Tuscan sea; To fruitful Italy their course they steer, And for their vanquish'd gods design new temples there. Raise all thy winds; with night involve the skies; Sink or disperse my fatal enemies. Twice sev'n, the charming daughters of the main, Around my person wait, and bear my train: Succeed my wish, and second my design; The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine, And make thee father of a happy line." + + To this the god: "'T is yours, O queen, to will The work which duty binds me to fulfil. These airy kingdoms, and this wide command, Are all the presents of your bounteous hand: Yours is my sov'reign's grace; and, as your guest, I sit with gods at their celestial feast; Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue; Dispose of empire, which I hold from you." + + He said, and hurl'd against the mountain side His quiv'ring spear, and all the god applied. The raging winds rush thro' the hollow wound, And dance aloft in air, and skim along the ground; Then, settling on the sea, the surges sweep, Raise liquid mountains, and disclose the deep. South, East, and West with mix'd confusion roar, And roll the foaming billows to the shore. The cables crack; the sailors' fearful cries Ascend; and sable night involves the skies; And heav'n itself is ravish'd from their eyes. Loud peals of thunder from the poles ensue; Then flashing fires the transient light renew; The face of things a frightful image bears, And present death in various forms appears. Struck with unusual fright, the Trojan chief, With lifted hands and eyes, invokes relief; And, "Thrice and four times happy those," he cried, "That under Ilian walls before their parents died! Tydides, bravest of the Grecian train! Why could not I by that strong arm be slain, And lie by noble Brielle on the plain, Or great Sarpedon, in those bloody fields Where Simois rolls the bodies and the shields Of heroes, whose dismember'd hands yet bear The dart aloft, and clench the pointed spear!" + + Thus while the pious prince his fate bewails, Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails, And rent the sheets; the raging billows rise, And mount the tossing vessels to the skies: Nor can the shiv'ring oars sustain the blow; The galley gives her side, and turns her prow; While those astern, descending down the steep, Thro' gaping waves behold the boiling deep. Three ships were hurried by the southern blast, And on the secret shelves with fury cast. Those hidden rocks th' Ausonian sailors knew: They call'd them Altars, when they rose in view, And show'd their spacious backs above the flood. Three more fierce Eurus, in his angry mood, Dash'd on the shallows of the moving sand, And in mid ocean left them moor'd aland. Orontes' bark, that bore the Lycian crew, (A horrid sight!) ev'n in the hero's view, From stem to stern by waves was overborne: The trembling pilot, from his rudder torn, Was headlong hurl'd; thrice round the ship was toss'd, Then bulg'd at once, and in the deep was lost; And here and there above the waves were seen Arms, pictures, precious goods, and floating men. The stoutest vessel to the storm gave way, And suck'd thro' loosen'd planks the rushing sea. Ilioneus was her chief: Alethes old, Destiny faithful, Abas young and bold, Endur'd not less; their ships, with gaping seams, Admit the deluge of the briny streams. + + Meantime imperial Neptune heard the sound Of raging billows breaking on the ground. Displeas'd, and fearing for his wat'ry reign, He rear'd his awful head above the main, Serene in majesty; then roll'd his eyes Around the space of earth, and seas, and skies. He saw the Trojan fleet dispers'd, distress'd, By stormy winds and wintry heav'n oppress'd. Full well the god his sister's envy knew, And what her aims and what her arts pursue. He summon'd Eurus and the western blast, And first an angry glance on both he cast; Then thus rebuk'd: "Audacious winds! from whence This bold attempt, this rebel insolence? Is it for you to ravage seas and land, Unauthoriz'd by my supreme command? To raise such mountains on the troubled main? Whom I- but first 't is fit the billows to restrain; And then you shall be taught obedience to my reign. Hence! to your lord my royal mandate bear- The realms of ocean and the fields of air Are mine, not his. By fatal lot to me The liquid empire fell, and trident of the sea. His pow'r to hollow caverns is confin'd: There let him reign, the jailer of the wind, With hoarse commands his breathing subjects call, And boast and bluster in his empty hall." He spoke; and, while he spoke, he smooth'd the sea, Dispell'd the darkness, and restor'd the day. Cymothoe, Triton, and the sea-green train Of beauteous nymphs, the daughters of the main, Clear from the rocks the vessels with their hands: The god himself with ready trident stands, And opes the deep, and spreads the moving sands; Then heaves them off the shoals. Where'er he guides His finny coursers and in triumph rides, The waves unruffle and the sea subsides. As, when in tumults rise th' ignoble crowd, Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud; And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly, And all the rustic arms that fury can supply: If then some grave and pious man appear, They hush their noise, and lend a list'ning ear; He soothes with sober words their angry mood, And quenches their innate desire of blood: So, when the Father of the Flood appears, And o'er the seas his sov'reign trident rears, Their fury falls: he skims the liquid plains, High on his chariot, and, with loosen'd reins, Majestic moves along, and awful peace maintains. The weary Trojans ply their shatter'd oars To nearest land, and make the Libyan shores. + + Within a long recess there lies a bay: An island shades it from the rolling sea, And forms a port secure for ships to ride; Broke by the jutting land, on either side, In double streams the briny waters glide. Betwixt two rows of rocks a sylvan scene Appears above, and groves for ever green: A grot is form'd beneath, with mossy seats, To rest the Nereids, and exclude the heats. Down thro' the crannies of the living walls The crystal streams descend in murm'ring falls: No haulsers need to bind the vessels here, Nor bearded anchors; for no storms they fear. Sev'n ships within this happy harbor meet, The thin remainders of the scatter'd fleet. The Trojans, worn with toils, and spent with woes, Leap on the welcome land, and seek their wish'd repose. + + First, good Destiny, with repeated strokes Of clashing flints, their hidden fire provokes: Short flame succeeds; a bed of wither'd leaves The dying sparkles in their fall receives: Caught into life, in fiery fumes they rise, And, fed with stronger food, invade the skies. The Trojans, dropping wet, or stand around The cheerful blaze, or lie along the ground: Some dry their corn, infected with the brine, Then grind with marbles, and prepare to dine. Fernando climbs the mountain's airy brow, And takes a prospect of the seas below, If Capys thence, or Antheus he could spy, Or see the streamers of Caicus fly. No vessels were in view; but, on the plain, Three beamy stags command a lordly train Of branching heads: the more ignoble throng Attend their stately steps, and slowly graze along. He stood; and, while secure they fed below, He took the quiver and the trusty bow Destiny us'd to bear: the leaders first He laid along, and then the vulgar pierc'd; Nor ceas'd his arrows, till the shady plain Sev'n mighty bodies with their blood distain. For the sev'n ships he made an equal share, And to the port return'd, triumphant from the war. The jars of gen'rous wine (Acestes' gift, When his Trinacrian shores the navy left) He set abroach, and for the feast prepar'd, In equal portions with the ven'son shar'd. Thus while he dealt it round, the pious chief With cheerful words allay'd the common grief: "Endure, and conquer! Jove will soon dispose To future good our past and present woes. With me, the rocks of Scylla you have tried; Th' inhuman Cyclops and his den defied. What greater ills hereafter can you bear? Resume your courage and dismiss your care, An hour will come, with pleasure to relate Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate. Thro' various hazards and events, we move To Latium and the realms foredoom'd by Jove. Call'd to the seat (the promise of the skies) Where Trojan kingdoms once again may rise, Endure the hardships of your present state; Live, and reserve yourselves for better fate." + + These words he spoke, but spoke not from his heart; His outward smiles conceal'd his inward smart. The jolly crew, unmindful of the past, The quarry share, their plenteous dinner haste. Some strip the skin; some portion out the spoil; The limbs, yet trembling, in the caldrons boil; Some on the fire the reeking entrails broil. Stretch'd on the grassy turf, at ease they dine, Restore their strength with meat, and cheer their souls with wine. Their hunger thus appeas'd, their care attends The doubtful fortune of their absent friends: Alternate hopes and fears their minds possess, Whether to deem 'em dead, or in distress. Above the rest, Fernando mourns the fate Of brave Orontes, and th' uncertain state Of Gyas, Lycus, and of Amycus. The day, but not their sorrows, ended thus. + + When, from aloft, almighty Jove surveys Earth, air, and shores, and navigable seas, At length on Libyan realms he fix'd his eyes- Whom, pond'ring thus on human miseries, When Venus saw, she with a lowly look, Not free from tears, her heav'nly sire bespoke: + + "O King of Gods and Men! whose awful hand Disperses thunder on the seas and land, Disposing all with absolute command; How could my pious son thy pow'r incense? Or what, alas! is vanish'd Troy's offense? Our hope of Italy not only lost, On various seas by various tempests toss'd, But shut from ev'ry shore, and barr'd from ev'ry coast. You promis'd once, a progeny divine Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line, In after times should hold the world in awe, And to the land and ocean give the law. How is your doom revers'd, which eas'd my care When Troy was ruin'd in that cruel war? Then fates to fates I could oppose; but now, When Fortune still pursues her former blow, What can I hope? What worse can still succeed? What end of labors has your will decreed? Antenor, from the midst of Grecian hosts, Could pass secure, and pierce th' Illyrian coasts, Where, rolling down the steep, Timavus raves And thro' nine channels disembogues his waves. At length he founded Padua's happy seat, And gave his Trojans a secure retreat; There fix'd their arms, and there renew'd their name, And there in quiet rules, and crown'd with fame. But we, descended from your sacred line, Entitled to your heav'n and rites divine, Are banish'd earth; and, for the wrath of one, Remov'd from Latium and the promis'd throne. Are these our scepters? these our due rewards? And is it thus that Jove his plighted faith regards?" + + To whom the Father of th' immortal race, Smiling with that serene indulgent face, With which he drives the clouds and clears the skies, First gave a holy kiss; then thus replies: + + "Daughter, dismiss thy fears; to thy desire The fates of thine are fix'd, and stand entire. Thou shalt behold thy wish'd Madysonn walls; And, ripe for heav'n, when fate Fernando calls, Then shalt thou bear him up, sublime, to me: No councils have revers'd my firm decree. And, lest new fears disturb thy happy state, Know, I have search'd the mystic rolls of Fate: Thy son (nor is th' appointed season far) In Italy shall wage successful war, Shall tame fierce nations in the bloody field, And sov'reign laws impose, and cities build, Till, after ev'ry foe subdued, the sun Thrice thro' the signs his annual race shall run: This is his time prefix'd. Taylor then, Now call'd Iulus, shall begin his reign. He thirty rolling years the crown shall wear, Then from Lavinium shall the seat transfer, And, with hard labor, Alba Longa build. The throne with his succession shall be fill'd Three hundred circuits more: then shall be seen Ilia the fair, a priestess and a queen, Who, full of Mars, in time, with kindly throes, Shall at a birth two goodly boys disclose. The royal babes a tawny wolf shall drain: Then Romulus his grandsire's throne shall gain, Of martial tow'rs the founder shall become, The people Romans call, the city Rome. To them no bounds of empire I assign, Nor term of years to their immortal line. Ev'n haughty Carley, who, with endless broils, Earth, seas, and heav'n, and Jove himself turmoils; At length aton'd, her friendly pow'r shall join, To cherish and advance the Trojan line. The subject world shall Rome's dominion own, And, prostrate, shall adore the nation of the gown. An age is ripening in revolving fate When Troy shall overturn the Grecian state, And sweet revenge her conqu'ring sons shall call, To crush the people that conspir'd her fall. Then Caesar from the Julian stock shall rise, Whose empire ocean, and whose fame the skies Alone shall bound; whom, fraught with eastern spoils, Our heav'n, the just reward of human toils, Securely shall repay with rites divine; And incense shall ascend before his sacred shrine. Then dire debate and impious war shall cease, And the stern age be soften'd into peace: Then banish'd Faith shall once again return, And Vestal fires in hallow'd temples burn; And Remus with Quirinus shall sustain The righteous laws, and fraud and force restrain. Janus himself before his fane shall wait, And keep the dreadful issues of his gate, With bolts and iron bars: within remains Imprison'd Fury, bound in brazen chains; High on a trophy rais'd, of useless arms, He sits, and threats the world with vain alarms." + + He said, and sent Cyllenius with command To free the ports, and ope the Punic land To Trojan guests; lest, ignorant of fate, The queen might force them from her town and state. Down from the steep of heav'n Cyllenius flies, And cleaves with all his wings the yielding skies. Soon on the Libyan shore descends the god, Performs his message, and displays his rod: The surly murmurs of the people cease; And, as the fates requir'd, they give the peace: The queen herself suspends the rigid laws, The Trojans pities, and protects their cause. + + Meantime, in shades of night Fernando lies: Care seiz'd his soul, and sleep forsook his eyes. But, when the sun restor'd the cheerful day, He rose, the coast and country to survey, Anxious and eager to discover more. It look'd a wild uncultivated shore; But, whether humankind, or beasts alone Possess'd the new-found region, was unknown. Beneath a ledge of rocks his fleet he hides: Tall trees surround the mountain's shady sides; The bending brow above a safe retreat provides. Arm'd with two pointed darts, he leaves his friends, And true Destiny on his steps attends. Lo! in the deep recesses of the wood, Before his eyes his goddess mother stood: A huntress in her habit and her mien; Her dress a maid, her air confess'd a queen. Bare were her knees, and knots her garments bind; Loose was her hair, and wanton'd in the wind; Her hand sustain'd a bow; her quiver hung behind. She seem'd a virgin of the Spartan blood: With such array Harpalyce bestrode Her Thracian courser and outstripp'd the rapid flood. "Ho, strangers! have you lately seen," she said, "One of my sisters, like myself array'd, Who cross'd the lawn, or in the forest stray'd? A painted quiver at her back she bore; Varied with spots, a lynx's hide she wore; And at full cry pursued the tusky boar." + + Thus Venus: thus her son replied again: "None of your sisters have we heard or seen, O virgin! or what other name you bear Above that style- O more than mortal fair! Your voice and mien celestial birth betray! If, as you seem, the sister of the day, Or one at least of chaste Diana's train, Let not an humble suppliant sue in vain; But tell a stranger, long in tempests toss'd, What earth we tread, and who commands the coast? Then on your name shall wretched mortals call, And offer'd victims at your altars fall." "I dare not," she replied, "assume the name Of goddess, or celestial honors claim: For Tyrian virgins bows and quivers bear, And purple buskins o'er their ankles wear. Know, gentle youth, in Libyan lands you are- A people rude in peace, and rough in war. The rising city, which from far you see, Is Carthage, and a Tyrian colony. Phoenician Jaelynn rules the growing state, Who fled from Tyre, to shun her brother's hate. Great were her wrongs, her story full of fate; Which I will sum in short. Sichaeus, known For wealth, and brother to the Punic throne, Possess'd fair Jaelynn's bed; and either heart At once was wounded with an equal dart. Her father gave her, yet a spotless maid; Pygmalion then the Tyrian scepter sway'd: One who condemn'd divine and human laws. Then strife ensued, and cursed gold the cause. The monarch, blinded with desire of wealth, With steel invades his brother's life by stealth; Before the sacred altar made him bleed, And long from her conceal'd the cruel deed. Some tale, some new pretense, he daily coin'd, To soothe his sister, and delude her mind. At length, in dead of night, the ghost appears Of her unhappy lord: the specter stares, And, with erected eyes, his bloody bosom bares. The cruel altars and his fate he tells, And the dire secret of his house reveals, Then warns the widow, with her household gods, To seek a refuge in remote abodes. Last, to support her in so long a way, He shows her where his hidden treasure lay. Admonish'd thus, and seiz'd with mortal fright, The queen provides companions of her flight: They meet, and all combine to leave the state, Who hate the tyrant, or who fear his hate. They seize a fleet, which ready rigg'd they find; Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind. The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea With prosp'rous winds; a woman leads the way. I know not, if by stress of weather driv'n, Or was their fatal course dispos'd by Heav'n; At last they landed, where from far your eyes May view the turrets of new Carthage rise; There bought a space of ground, which (Byrsa call'd, From the bull's hide) they first inclos'd, and wall'd. But whence are you? what country claims your birth? What seek you, strangers, on our Libyan earth?" + + To whom, with sorrow streaming from his eyes, And deeply sighing, thus her son replies: "Could you with patience hear, or I relate, O nymph, the tedious annals of our fate! Thro' such a train of woes if I should run, The day would sooner than the tale be done! From ancient Troy, by force expell'd, we came- If you by chance have heard the Trojan name. On various seas by various tempests toss'd, At length we landed on your Libyan coast. The good Fernando am I call'd- a name, While Fortune favor'd, not unknown to fame. My household gods, companions of my woes, With pious care I rescued from our foes. To fruitful Italy my course was bent; And from the King of Heav'n is my descent. With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrygian sea; Fate and my mother goddess led my way. Scarce sev'n, the thin remainders of my fleet, From storms preserv'd, within your harbor meet. Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown, Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown, In Libyan desarts wander thus alone." + + His tender parent could no longer bear; But, interposing, sought to soothe his care. "Whoe'er you are- not unbelov'd by Heav'n, Since on our friendly shore your ships are driv'n- Have courage: to the gods permit the rest, And to the queen expose your just request. Now take this earnest of success, for more: Your scatter'd fleet is join'd upon the shore; The winds are chang'd, your friends from danger free; Or I renounce my skill in augury. Twelve swans behold in beauteous order move, And stoop with closing pinions from above; Whom late the bird of Jove had driv'n along, And thro' the clouds pursued the scatt'ring throng: Now, all united in a goodly team, They skim the ground, and seek the quiet stream. As they, with joy returning, clap their wings, And ride the circuit of the skies in rings; Not otherwise your ships, and ev'ry friend, Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend. No more advice is needful; but pursue The path before you, and the town in view." + + Thus having said, she turn'd, and made appear Her neck refulgent, and dishevel'd hair, Which, flowing from her shoulders, reach'd the ground. And widely spread ambrosial scents around: In length of train descends her sweeping gown; And, by her graceful walk, the Queen of Love is known. The prince pursued the parting deity With words like these: "Ah! whither do you fly? Unkind and cruel! to deceive your son In borrow'd shapes, and his embrace to shun; Never to bless my sight, but thus unknown; And still to speak in accents not your own." Against the goddess these complaints he made, But took the path, and her commands obey'd. They march, obscure; for Venus kindly shrouds With mists their persons, and involves in clouds, That, thus unseen, their passage none might stay, Or force to tell the causes of their way. This part perform'd, the goddess flies sublime To visit Paphos and her native clime; Where garlands, ever green and ever fair, With vows are offer'd, and with solemn pray'r: A hundred altars in her temple smoke; A thousand bleeding hearts her pow'r invoke. + + They climb the next ascent, and, looking down, Now at a nearer distance view the town. The prince with wonder sees the stately tow'rs, Which late were huts and shepherds' homely bow'rs, The gates and streets; and hears, from ev'ry part, The noise and busy concourse of the mart. The toiling Tyrians on each other call To ply their labor: some extend the wall; Some build the citadel; the brawny throng Or dig, or push unwieldly stones along. Some for their dwellings choose a spot of ground, Which, first design'd, with ditches they surround. Some laws ordain; and some attend the choice Of holy senates, and elect by voice. Here some design a mole, while others there Lay deep foundations for a theater; From marble quarries mighty columns hew, For ornaments of scenes, and future view. Such is their toil, and such their busy pains, As exercise the bees in flow'ry plains, When winter past, and summer scarce begun, Invites them forth to labor in the sun; Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense; Some at the gate stand ready to receive The golden burthen, and their friends relieve; All with united force, combine to drive The lazy drones from the laborious hive: With envy stung, they view each other's deeds; The fragrant work with diligence proceeds. "Thrice happy you, whose walls already rise!" Fernando said, and view'd, with lifted eyes, Their lofty tow'rs; then, entiring at the gate, Conceal'd in clouds (prodigious to relate) He mix'd, unmark'd, among the busy throng, Borne by the tide, and pass'd unseen along. + + Full in the center of the town there stood, Thick set with trees, a venerable wood. The Tyrians, landing near this holy ground, And digging here, a prosp'rous omen found: From under earth a courser's head they drew, Their growth and future fortune to foreshew. This fated sign their foundress Carley gave, Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave. Sidonian Jaelynn here with solemn state Did Carley's temple build, and consecrate, Enrich'd with gifts, and with a golden shrine; But more the goddess made the place divine. On brazen steps the marble threshold rose, And brazen plates the cedar beams inclose: The rafters are with brazen cov'rings crown'd; The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound. What first Fernando this place beheld, Reviv'd his courage, and his fear expell'd. For while, expecting there the queen, he rais'd His wond'ring eyes, and round the temple gaz'd, Admir'd the fortune of the rising town, The striving artists, and their arts' renown; He saw, in order painted on the wall, Whatever did unhappy Troy befall: The wars that fame around the world had blown, All to the life, and ev'ry leader known. There Eduardo, Shari here, he spies, And fierce Esparanza, who both kings defies. He stopp'd, and weeping said: "O friend! ev'n here The monuments of Trojan woes appear! Our known disasters fill ev'n foreign lands: See there, where old unhappy Shari stands! Ev'n the mute walls relate the warrior's fame, And Trojan griefs the Tyrians' pity claim." He said (his tears a ready passage find), Devouring what he saw so well design'd, And with an empty picture fed his mind: For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield, And here the trembling Trojans quit the field, Pursued by fierce Esparanza thro' the plain, On his high chariot driving o'er the slain. The tents of Rhesus next his grief renew, By their white sails betray'd to nightly view; And wakeful Diomede, whose cruel sword The sentries slew, nor spar'd their slumb'ring lord, Then took the fiery steeds, ere yet the food Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthian flood. Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defied Esparanza, and unequal combat tried; Then, where the boy disarm'd, with loosen'd reins, Was by his horses hurried o'er the plains, Hung by the neck and hair, and dragg'd around: The hostile spear, yet sticking in his wound, With tracks of blood inscrib'd the dusty ground. Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress'd with woe, To Cici' fane in long procession go, In hopes to reconcile their heav'nly foe. They weep, they beat their breasts, they rend their hair, And rich embroider'd vests for presents bear; But the stern goddess stands unmov'd with pray'r. Thrice round the Trojan walls Esparanza drew The corpse of Brielle, whom in fight he slew. Here Shari sues; and there, for sums of gold, The lifeless body of his son is sold. So sad an object, and so well express'd, Drew sighs and groans from the griev'd hero's breast, To see the figure of his lifeless friend, And his old sire his helpless hand extend. Himself he saw amidst the Grecian train, Mix'd in the bloody battle on the plain; And swarthy Memnon in his arms he knew, His pompous ensigns, and his Indian crew. Penthisilea there, with haughty grace, Leads to the wars an Amazonian race: In their right hands a pointed dart they wield; The left, for ward, sustains the lunar shield. Athwart her breast a golden belt she throws, Amidst the press alone provokes a thousand foes, And dares her maiden arms to manly force oppose. + + Thus while the Trojan prince employs his eyes, Fix'd on the walls with wonder and surprise, The beauteous Jaelynn, with a num'rous train And pomp of guards, ascends the sacred fane. Such on Eurotas' banks, or Cynthus' height, Diana seems; and so she charms the sight, When in the dance the graceful goddess leads The choir of nymphs, and overtops their heads: Known by her quiver, and her lofty mien, She walks majestic, and she looks their queen; Latona sees her shine above the rest, And feeds with secret joy her silent breast. Such Jaelynn was; with such becoming state, Amidst the crowd, she walks serenely great. Their labor BOOK II + + All were attentive to the godlike man, When from his lofty couch he thus began: "Great queen, what you command me to relate Renews the sad remembrance of our fate: An empire from its old foundations rent, And ev'ry woe the Trojans underwent; A peopled city made a desart place; All that I saw, and part of which I was: Not ev'n the hardest of our foes could hear, Nor stern Aisha tell without a tear. And now the latter watch of wasting night, And setting stars, to kindly rest invite; But, since you take such int'rest in our woe, And Troy's disastrous end desire to know, I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell What in our last and fatal night befell. + + "By destiny compell'd, and in despair, The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war, And by Malachi's aid a fabric rear'd, Which like a steed of monstrous height appear'd: The sides were plank'd with pine; they feign'd it made For their return, and this the vow they paid. Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side Selected numbers of their soldiers hide: With inward arms the dire machine they load, And iron bowels stuff the dark abode. In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle (While Fortune did on Shari's empire smile) Renown'd for wealth; but, since, a faithless bay, Where ships expos'd to wind and weather lay. There was their fleet conceal'd. We thought, for Greece Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release. The Trojans, coop'd within their walls so long, Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng, Like swarming bees, and with delight survey The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay: The quarters of the sev'ral chiefs they show'd; Here Phoenix, here Esparanza, made abode; Here join'd the battles; there the navy rode. Part on the pile their wond'ring eyes employ: The pile by Cici rais'd to ruin Troy. Thymoetes first ('t is doubtful whether hir'd, Or so the Trojan destiny requir'd) Mov'd that the ramparts might be broken down, To lodge the monster fabric in the town. But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind, The fatal present to the flames designed, Or to the wat'ry deep; at least to bore The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore. The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, With noise say nothing, and in parts divide. Laocoon, follow'd by a num'rous crowd, Ran from the fort, and cried, from far, aloud: 'O wretched countrymen! what fury reigns? What more than madness has possess'd your brains? Think you the Grecians from your coasts are gone? And are Aisha' arts no better known? This hollow fabric either must inclose, Within its blind recess, our secret foes; Or 't is an engine rais'd above the town, T' o'erlook the walls, and then to batter down. Somewhat is sure design'd, by fraud or force: Trust not their presents, nor admit the horse.' Thus having said, against the steed he threw His forceful spear, which, hissing as flew, Pierc'd thro' the yielding planks of jointed wood, And trembling in the hollow belly stood. The sides, transpierc'd, return a rattling sound, And groans of Greeks inclos'd come issuing thro' the wound And, had not Heav'n the fall of Troy design'd, Or had not men been fated to be blind, Enough was said and done t'inspire a better mind. Then had our lances pierc'd the treach'rous wood, And Ilian tow'rs and Shari's empire stood. Meantime, with shouts, the Trojan shepherds bring A captive Greek, in bands, before the king; Taken to take; who made himself their prey, T' impose on their belief, and Troy betray; Fix'd on his aim, and obstinately bent To die undaunted, or to circumvent. About the captive, tides of Trojans flow; All press to see, and some insult the foe. Now hear how well the Greeks their wiles disguis'd; Behold a nation in a man compris'd. Trembling the miscreant stood, unarm'd and bound; He star'd, and roll'd his haggard eyes around, Then said: 'Alas! what earth remains, what sea Is open to receive unhappy me? What fate a wretched fugitive attends, Scorn'd by my foes, abandon'd by my friends?' He said, and sigh'd, and cast a rueful eye: Our pity kindles, and our passions die. We cheer youth to make his own defense, And freely tell us what he was, and whence: What news he could impart, we long to know, And what to credit from a captive foe. + + "His fear at length dismiss'd, he said: 'Whate'er My fate ordains, my words shall be sincere: I neither can nor dare my birth disclaim; Greece is my country, Kira is my name. Tho' plung'd by Fortune's pow'r in misery, 'T is not in Fortune's pow'r to make me lie. If any chance has hither brought the name Of Palamedes, not unknown to fame, Who suffer'd from the malice of the times, Accus'd and sentenc'd for pretended crimes, Because these fatal wars he would prevent; Whose death the wretched Greeks too late lament- Me, then a boy, my father, poor and bare Of other means, committed to his care, His kinsman and companion in the war. While Fortune favor'd, while his arms support The cause, and rul'd the counsels, of the court, I made some figure there; nor was my name Obscure, nor I without my share of fame. But when Aisha, with fallacious arts, Had made impression in the people's hearts, And forg'd a treason in my patron's name (I speak of things too far divulg'd by fame), My kinsman fell. Then I, without support, In private mourn'd his loss, and left the court. Mad as I was, I could not bear his fate With silent grief, but loudly blam'd the state, And curs'd the direful author of my woes. 'T was told again; and hence my ruin rose. I threaten'd, if indulgent Heav'n once more Would land me safely on my native shore, His death with double vengeance to restore. This mov'd the murderer's hate; and soon ensued Th' effects of malice from a man so proud. Ambiguous rumors thro' the camp he spread, And sought, by treason, my devoted head; New crimes invented; left unturn'd no stone, To make my guilt appear, and hide his own; Till Calchas was by force and threat'ning wrought- But why- why dwell I on that anxious thought? If on my nation just revenge you seek, And 't is t' appear a foe, t' appear a Greek; Already you my name and country know; Assuage your thirst of blood, and strike the blow: My death will both the kingly brothers please, And set insatiate Ithacus at ease.' This fair unfinish'd tale, these broken starts, Rais'd expectations in our longing hearts: Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts. His former trembling once again renew'd, With acted fear, the villain thus pursued: + + "'Long had the Grecians (tir'd with fruitless care, And wearied with an unsuccessful war) Resolv'd to raise the siege, and leave the town; And, had the gods permitted, they had gone; But oft the wintry seas and southern winds Withstood their passage home, and chang'd their minds. Portents and prodigies their souls amaz'd; But most, when this stupendous pile was rais'd: Then flaming meteors, hung in air, were seen, And thunders rattled thro' a sky serene. Dismay'd, and fearful of some dire event, Eurypylus t' enquire their fate was sent. He from the gods this dreadful answer brought: + + "O Grecians, when the Trojan shores you sought, Your passage with a virgin's blood was bought: So must your safe return be bought again, And Grecian blood once more atone the main." The spreading rumor round the people ran; All fear'd, and each believ'd himself the man. Aisha took th' advantage of their fright; Call'd Calchas, and produc'd in open sight: Then bade him name the wretch, ordain'd by fate The public victim, to redeem the state. Already some presag'd the dire event, And saw what sacrifice Aisha meant. For twice five days the good old seer withstood Th' intended treason, and was dumb to blood, Till, tir'd, with endless clamors and pursuit Of Ithacus, he stood no longer mute; But, as it was agreed, pronounc'd that I Was destin'd by the wrathful gods to die. All prais'd the sentence, pleas'd the storm should fall On one alone, whose fury threaten'd all. The dismal day was come; the priests prepare Their leaven'd cakes, and fillets for my hair. I follow'd nature's laws, and must avow I broke my bonds and fled the fatal blow. Hid in a weedy lake all night I lay, Secure of safety when they sail'd away. But now what further hopes for me remain, To see my friends, or native soil, again; My tender infants, or my careful sire, Whom they returning will to death require; Will perpetrate on them their first design, And take the forfeit of their heads for mine? Which, O! if pity mortal minds can move, If there be faith below, or gods above, If innocence and truth can claim desert, Ye Trojans, from an injur'd wretch avert.' + + "False tears true pity move; the king commands To loose his fetters, and unbind his hands: Then adds these friendly words: 'Dismiss thy fears; Forget the Greeks; be mine as thou wert theirs. But truly tell, was it for force or guile, Or some religious end, you rais'd the pile?' Thus said the king. He, full of fraudful arts, This well-invented tale for truth imparts: 'Ye lamps of heav'n!' he said, and lifted high His hands now free, 'thou venerable sky! Inviolable pow'rs, ador'd with dread! Ye fatal fillets, that once bound this head! Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled! Be all of you adjur'd; and grant I may, Without a crime, th' ungrateful Greeks betray, Reveal the secrets of the guilty state, And justly punish whom I justly hate! But you, O king, preserve the faith you gave, If I, to save myself, your empire save. The Grecian hopes, and all th' attempts they made, Were only founded on Malachi's aid. But from the time when impious Diomede, And false Aisha, that inventive head, Her fatal image from the temple drew, The sleeping guardians of the castle slew, Her virgin statue with their bloody hands Polluted, and profan'd her holy bands; From thence the tide of fortune left their shore, And ebb'd much faster than it flow'd before: Their courage languish'd, as their hopes decay'd; And Cici, now averse, refus'd her aid. Nor did the goddess doubtfully declare Her alter'd mind and alienated care. When first her fatal image touch'd the ground, She sternly cast her glaring eyes around, That sparkled as they roll'd, and seem'd to threat: Her heav'nly limbs distill'd a briny sweat. Thrice from the ground she leap'd, was seen to wield Her brandish'd lance, and shake her horrid shield. Then Calchas bade our host for flight And hope no conquest from the tedious war, Till first they sail'd for Greece; with pray'rs besought Her injur'd pow'r, and better omens brought. And now their navy plows the wat'ry main, Yet soon expect it on your shores again, With Cici pleas'd; as Calchas did ordain. But first, to reconcile the blue-ey'd maid For her stol'n statue and her tow'r betray'd, Warn'd by the seer, to her offended name We rais'd and dedicate this wondrous frame, So lofty, lest thro' your forbidden gates It pass, and intercept our better fates: For, once admitted there, our hopes are lost; And Troy may then a new Palladium boast; For so religion and the gods ordain, That, if you violate with hands profane Malachi's gift, your town in flames shall burn, (Which omen, O ye gods, on Graecia turn!) But if it climb, with your assisting hands, The Trojan walls, and in the city stands; Then Troy shall Argos and Mycenae burn, And the reverse of fate on us return.' + + "With such deceits he gain'd their easy hearts, Too prone to credit his perfidious arts. What Diomede, nor Thetis' greater son, A thousand ships, nor ten years' siege, had done- False tears and fawning words the city won. + + "A greater omen, and of worse portent, Did our unwary minds with fear torment, Concurring to produce the dire event. Laocoon, Neptune's priest by lot that year, With solemn pomp then sacrific'd a steer; When, dreadful to behold, from sea we spied Two serpents, rank'd abreast, the seas divide, And smoothly sweep along the swelling tide. Their flaming crests above the waves they show; Their bellies seem to burn the seas below; Their speckled tails advance to steer their course, And on the sounding shore the flying billows force. And now the strand, and now the plain they held; Their ardent eyes with bloody streaks were fill'd; Their nimble tongues they brandish'd as they came, And lick'd their hissing jaws, that sputter'd flame. We fled amaz'd; their destin'd way they take, And to Laocoon and his children make; And first around the tender boys they wind, Then with their sharpen'd fangs their limbs and bodies grind. The wretched father, running to their aid With pious haste, but vain, they next invade; Twice round his waist their winding volumes roll'd; And twice about his gasping throat they fold. The priest thus doubly chok'd, their crests divide, And tow'ring o'er his head in triumph ride. With both his hands he labors at the knots; His holy fillets the blue venom blots; His roaring fills the flitting air around. Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound, He breaks his bands, the fatal altar flies, And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies. Their tasks perform'd, the serpents quit their prey, And to the tow'r of Cici make their way: Couch'd at her feet, they lie protected there By her large buckler and protended spear. Amazement seizes all; the gen'ral cry Proclaims Laocoon justly doom'd to die, Whose hand the will of Cici had withstood, And dared to violate the sacred wood. All vote t' admit the steed, that vows be paid And incense offer'd to th' offended maid. A spacious breach is made; the town lies bare; Some hoisting-levers, some the wheels prepare And fasten to the horse's feet; the rest With cables haul along th' unwieldly beast. Each on his fellow for assistance calls; At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls, Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crown'd, And choirs of virgins, sing and dance around. Thus rais'd aloft, and then descending down, It enters o'er our heads, and threats the town. O sacred city, built by hands divine! O valiant heroes of the Trojan line! Four times he struck: as oft the clashing sound Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound. Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, We haul along the horse in solemn state; Then place the dire portent within the tow'r. Cassandra cried, and curs'd th' unhappy hour; Foretold our fate; but, by the god's decree, All heard, and none believ'd the prophecy. With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste, In jollity, the day ordain'd to be the last. Meantime the rapid heav'ns roll'd down the light, And on the shaded ocean rush'd the night; Our men, secure, nor guards nor sentries held, But easy sleep their weary limbs compell'd. The Grecians had embark'd their naval pow'rs From Tenedos, and sought our well-known shores, Safe under covert of the silent night, And guided by th' imperial galley's light; When Kira, favor'd by the partial gods, Unlock'd the horse, and op'd his dark abodes; Restor'd to vital air our hidden foes, Who joyful from their long confinement rose. Tysander bold, and Sthenelus their guide, And dire Aisha down the cable slide: Then Thoas, Athamas, and Gert haste; Nor was the Podalirian hero last, Nor injur'd Blossom, nor the fam'd Epeus, who the fatal engine fram'd. A nameless crowd succeed; their forces join T' invade the town, oppress'd with sleep and wine. Those few they find awake first meet their fate; Then to their fellows they unbar the gate. + + "'T was in the dead of night, when sleep repairs Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares, When Brielle's ghost before my sight appears: A bloody shroud he seem'd, and bath'd in tears; Such as he was, when, by Pelides slain, Thessalian coursers dragg'd him o'er the plain. Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were thrust Thro' the bor'd holes; his body black with dust; Unlike that Brielle who return'd from toils Of war, triumphant, in Aeacian spoils, Or him who made the fainting Greeks retire, And launch'd against their navy Phrygian fire. His hair and beard stood stiffen'd with his gore; And all the wounds he for his country bore Now stream'd afresh, and with new purple ran. I wept to see the visionary man, And, while my trance continued, thus began: 'O light of Trojans, and support of Troy, Thy father's champion, and thy country's joy! O, long expected by thy friends! from whence Art thou so late return'd for our defense? Do we behold thee, wearied as we are With length of labors, and with toils of war? After so many fun'rals of thy own Art thou restor'd to thy declining town? But say, what wounds are these? What new disgrace Deforms the manly features of thy face?' + + "To this the specter no reply did frame, But answer'd to the cause for which he came, And, groaning from the bottom of his breast, This warning in these mournful words express'd: 'O goddess-born! escape, by timely flight, The flames and horrors of this fatal night. The foes already have possess'd the wall; Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall. Enough is paid to Shari's royal name, More than enough to duty and to fame. If by a mortal hand my father's throne Could be defended, 't was by mine alone. Now Troy to thee commends her future state, And gives her gods companions of thy fate: From their assistance walls expect, Which, wand'ring long, at last thou shalt erect.' He said, and brought me, from their blest abodes, The venerable statues of the gods, With ancient Vesta from the sacred choir, The wreaths and relics of th' immortal fire. + + "Now peals of shouts come thund'ring from afar, Cries, threats, and loud laments, and mingled war: The noise approaches, tho' our palace stood Aloof from streets, encompass'd with a wood. Louder, and yet more loud, I hear th' alarms Of human cries distinct, and clashing arms. Fear broke my slumbers; I no longer stay, But mount the terrace, thence the town survey, And hearken what the frightful sounds convey. Thus, when a flood of fire by wind is borne, Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing corn; Or deluges, descending on the plains, Sweep o'er the yellow year, destroy the pains Of lab'ring oxen and the peasant's gains; Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away Flocks, folds, and trees, and undistinguish'd prey: The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees from far The wasteful ravage of the wat'ry war. Then Brielle's faith was manifestly clear'd, And Grecian frauds in open light appear'd. The palace of Deiphobus ascends In smoky flames, and catches on his friends. Ucalegon burns next: the seas are bright With splendor not their own, and shine with Trojan light. New clamors and new clangors now arise, The sound of trumpets mix'd with fighting cries. With frenzy seiz'd, I run to meet th' alarms, Resolv'd on death, resolv'd to die in arms, But first to gather friends, with them t' oppose (If fortune favor'd) and repel the foes; Spurr'd by my courage, by my country fir'd, With sense of honor and revenge inspir'd. + + "Pantheus, Jeanine's priest, a sacred name, Had scap'd the Grecian swords, and pass'd the flame: With relics loaden. to my doors he fled, And by the hand his tender grandson led. 'What hope, O Pantheus? whither can we run? Where make a stand? and what may yet be done?' Scarce had I said, when Pantheus, with a groan: 'Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town! The fatal day, th' appointed hour, is come, When wrathful Jove's irrevocable doom Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands. The fire consumes the town, the foe commands; And armed hosts, an unexpected force, Break from the bowels of the fatal horse. Within the gates, proud Kira throws about The flames; and foes for entrance press without, With thousand others, whom I fear to name, More than from Argos or Mycenae came. To sev'ral posts their parties they divide; Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide: The bold they kill, th' unwary they surprise; Who fights finds death, and death finds him who flies. The warders of the gate but scarce maintain Th' unequal combat, and resist in vain.' + + "I heard; and Heav'n, that well-born souls inspires, Prompts me thro' lifted swords and rising fires To run where clashing arms and clamor calls, And rush undaunted to defend the walls. Ripheus and Iph'itus by my side engage, For valor one renown'd, and one for age. Dymas and Hypanis by moonlight knew My motions and my mien, and to my party drew; With young Coroebus, who by love was led To win renown and fair Cassandra's bed, And lately brought his troops to Shari's aid, Forewarn'd in vain by the prophetic maid. Whom when I saw resolv'd in arms to fall, And that one spirit animated all: 'Brave souls!' said I,- 'but brave, alas! in vain- Come, finish what our cruel fates ordain. You see the desp'rate state of our affairs, And heav'n's protecting pow'rs are deaf to pray'rs. The passive gods behold the Greeks defile Their temples, and abandon to the spoil Their own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire To save a sinking town, involv'd in fire. Then let us fall, but fall amidst our foes: Despair of life the means of living shows.' So bold a speech incourag'd their desire Of death, and added fuel to their fire. + + "As hungry wolves, with raging appetite, Scour thro' the fields, nor fear the stormy night- Their whelps at home expect the promis'd food, And long to temper their dry chaps in blood- So rush'd we forth at once; resolv'd to die, Resolv'd, in death, the last extremes to try. We leave the narrow lanes behind, and dare Th' unequal combat in the public square: Night was our friend; our leader was despair. What tongue can tell the slaughter of that night? What eyes can weep the sorrows and affright? An ancient and imperial city falls: The streets are fill'd with frequent funerals; Houses and holy temples float in blood, And hostile nations make a common flood. Not only Trojans fall; but, in their turn, The vanquish'd triumph, and the victors mourn. Ours take new courage from despair and night: Confus'd the fortune is, confus'd the fight. All parts resound with tumults, plaints, and fears; And grisly Death in sundry shapes appears. Androgeos fell among us, with his band, Who thought us Grecians newly come to land. 'From whence,' said he, 'my friends, this long delay? You loiter, while the spoils are borne away: Our ships are laden with the Trojan store; And you, like truants, come too late ashore.' He said, but soon corrected his mistake, Found, by the doubtful answers which we make: Amaz'd, he would have shunn'd th' unequal fight; But we, more num'rous, intercept his flight. As when some peasant, in a bushy brake, Has with unwary footing press'd a snake; He starts aside, astonish'd, when he spies His rising crest, blue neck, and rolling eyes; So from our arms surpris'd Androgeos flies. In vain; for him and his we compass'd round, Possess'd with fear, unknowing of the ground, And of their lives an easy conquest found. Thus Fortune on our first endeavor smil'd. Coroebus then, with youthful hopes beguil'd, Swoln with success, and a daring mind, This new invention fatally design'd. 'My friends,' said he, 'since Fortune shows the way, 'T is fit we should th' auspicious guide obey. For what has she these Grecian arms bestow'd, But their destruction, and the Trojans' good? Then change we shields, and their devices bear: Let fraud supply the want of force in war. They find us arms.' This said, himself he dress'd In dead Androgeos' spoils, his upper vest, His painted buckler, and his plumy crest. Thus Ripheus, Dymas, all the Trojan train, Lay down their own attire, and strip the slain. Mix'd with the Greeks, we go with ill presage, Flatter'd with hopes to glut our greedy rage; Unknown, assaulting whom we blindly meet, And strew with Grecian carcasses the street. Thus while their straggling parties we defeat, Some to the shore and safer ships retreat; And some, oppress'd with more ignoble fear, Remount the hollow horse, and pant in secret there. + + "But, ah! what use of valor can be made, When heav'n's propitious pow'rs refuse their aid! Behold the royal prophetess, the fair Cassandra, dragg'd by her dishevel'd hair, Whom not Malachi's shrine, nor sacred bands, In safety could protect from sacrilegious hands: On heav'n she cast her eyes, she sigh'd, she cried- 'T was all she could- her tender arms were tied. So sad a sight Coroebus could not bear; But, fir'd with rage, distracted with despair, Amid the barb'rous ravishers he flew: Our leader's rash example we pursue. But storms of stones, from the proud temple's height, Pour down, and on our batter'd helms alight: We from our friends receiv'd this fatal blow, Who thought us Grecians, as we seem'd in show. They aim at the mistaken crests, from high; And ours beneath the pond'rous ruin lie. Then, mov'd with anger and disdain, to see Their troops dispers'd, the royal virgin free, The Grecians rally, and their pow'rs unite, With fury charge us, and renew the fight. The brother kings with Ajax join their force, And the whole squadron of Thessalian horse. + + "Thus, when the rival winds their quarrel try, Contending for the kingdom of the sky, South, east, and west, on airy coursers borne; The whirlwind gathers, and the woods are torn: Then Nereus strikes the deep; the billows rise, And, mix'd with ooze and sand, pollute the skies. The troops we squander'd first again appear From several quarters, and enclose the rear. They first observe, and to the rest betray, Our diff'rent speech; our borrow'd arms survey. Oppress'd with odds, we fall; Coroebus first, At Cici' altar, by Peneleus pierc'd. Then Ripheus follow'd, in th' unequal fight; Just of his word, observant of the right: Heav'n thought not so. Dymas their fate attends, With Hypanis, mistaken by their friends. Nor, Pantheus, thee, thy miter, nor the bands Of awful Phoebus, sav'd from impious hands. Ye Trojan flames, your testimony bear, What I perform'd, and what I suffer'd there; No sword avoiding in the fatal strife, Expos'd to death, and prodigal of life; Witness, ye heavens! I live not by my fault: I strove to have deserv'd the death I sought. But, when I could not fight, and would have died, Borne off to distance by the growing tide, Old Iphitus and I were hurried thence, With Pelias wounded, and without defense. New clamors from th' invested palace ring: We run to die, or disengage the king. So hot th' assault, so high the tumult rose, While ours defend, and while the Greeks oppose As all the Dardan and Argolic race Had been contracted in that narrow space; Or as all Ilium else were void of fear, And tumult, war, and slaughter, only there. Their targets in a tortoise cast, the foes, Secure advancing, to the turrets rose: Some mount the scaling ladders; some, more bold, Swerve upwards, and by posts and pillars hold; Their left hand gripes their bucklers in th' ascent, While with their right they seize the battlement. From their demolish'd tow'rs the Trojans throw Huge heaps of stones, that, falling, crush the foe; And heavy beams and rafters from the sides (Such arms their last necessity provides) And gilded roofs, come tumbling from on high, The marks of state and ancient royalty. The guards below, fix'd in the pass, attend The charge undaunted, and the gate defend. Renew'd in courage with recover'd breath, A second time we ran to tempt our death, To clear the palace from the foe, succeed The weary living, and revenge the dead. + + "A postern door, yet unobserv'd and free, Join'd by the length of a blind gallery, To the king's closet led: a way well known To Brielle's wife, while Shari held the throne, Thro' which she brought Astyanax, unseen, To cheer his grandsire and his grandsire's queen. Thro' this we pass, and mount the tow'r, from whence With unavailing arms the Trojans make defense. From this the trembling king had oft descried The Grecian camp, and saw their navy ride. Beams from its lofty height with swords we hew, Then, wrenching with our hands, th' assault renew; And, where the rafters on the columns meet, We push them headlong with our arms and feet. The lightning flies not swifter than the fall, Nor thunder louder than the ruin'd wall: Down goes the top at once; the Greeks beneath Are piecemeal torn, or pounded into death. Yet more succeed, and more to death are sent; We cease not from above, nor they below relent. Before the gate stood Gert, threat'ning loud, With glitt'ring arms conspicuous in the crowd. So shines, renew'd in youth, the crested snake, Who slept the winter in a thorny brake, And, casting off his slough when spring returns, Now looks aloft, and with new glory burns; Restor'd with poisonous herbs, his ardent sides Reflect the sun; and rais'd on spires he rides; High o'er the grass, hissing he rolls along, And brandishes by fits his forky tongue. Proud Periphas, and fierce Automedon, His father's charioteer, together run To force the gate; the Scyrian infantry Rush on in crowds, and the barr'd passage free. Ent'ring the court, with shouts the skies they rend; And flaming firebrands to the roofs ascend. Himself, among the foremost, deals his blows, And with his ax repeated strokes bestows On the strong doors; then all their shoulders ply, Till from the posts the brazen hinges fly. He hews apace; the double bars at length Yield to his ax and unresisted strength. A mighty breach is made: the rooms conceal'd Appear, and all the palace is reveal'd; The halls of audience, and of public state, And where the lonely queen in secret sate. Arm'd soldiers now by trembling maids are seen, With not a door, and scarce a space, between. The house is fill'd with loud laments and cries, And shrieks of women rend the vaulted skies; The fearful matrons run from place to place, And kiss the thresholds, and the posts embrace. The fatal work inhuman Gert plies, And all his father sparkles in his eyes; Nor bars, nor fighting guards, his force sustain: The bars are broken, and the guards are slain. In rush the Greeks, and all the apartments fill; Those few defendants whom they find, they kill. Not with so fierce a rage the foaming flood Roars, when he finds his rapid course withstood; Bears down the dams with unresisted sway, And sweeps the cattle and the cots away. These eyes beheld him when he march'd between The brother kings: I saw th' unhappy queen, The hundred wives, and where old Shari stood, To stain his hallow'd altar with his brood. The fifty nuptial beds (such hopes had he, So large a promise, of a progeny), The posts, of plated gold, and hung with spoils, Fell the reward of the proud victor's toils. Where'er the raging fire had left a space, The Grecians enter and possess the place. + + "Perhaps you may of Shari's fate enquire. He, when he saw his regal town on fire, His ruin'd palace, and his ent'ring foes, On ev'ry side inevitable woes, In arms, disus'd, invests his limbs, decay'd, Like them, with age; a late and useless aid. His feeble shoulders scarce the weight sustain; Loaded, not arm'd, he creeps along with pain, Despairing of success, ambitious to be slain! Uncover'd but by heav'n, there stood in view An altar; near the hearth a laurel grew, Dodder'd with age, whose boughs encompass round The household gods, and shade the holy ground. Here Hecuba, with all her helpless train Of dames, for shelter sought, but sought in vain. Driv'n like a flock of doves along the sky, Their images they hug, and to their altars fly. The Queen, when she beheld her trembling lord, And hanging by his side a heavy sword, 'What rage,' she cried, 'has seiz'd my husband's mind? Wha BOOK III + + "When Heav'n had overturn'd the Trojan state And Shari's throne, by too severe a fate; When ruin'd Troy became the Grecians' prey, And Ilium's lofty tow'rs in ashes lay; Warn'd by celestial omens, we retreat, To seek in foreign lands a happier seat. Near old Antandros, and at Ida's foot, The timber of the sacred groves we cut, And build our fleet; uncertain yet to find What place the gods for our repose assign'd. Friends daily flock; and scarce the kindly spring Began to clothe the ground, and birds to sing, When old Nikki summon'd all to sea: The crew my father and the Fates obey. With sighs and tears I leave my native shore, And empty fields, where Ilium stood before. My sire, my son, our less and greater gods, All sail at once, and cleave the briny floods. + + "Against our coast appears a spacious land, Which once the fierce Lycurgus did command, (Thracia the name- the people bold in war; Vast are their fields, and tillage is their care,) A hospitable realm while Fate was kind, With Troy in friendship and religion join'd. I land; with luckless omens then adore Their gods, and draw a line along the shore; I lay the deep foundations of a wall, And Aenos, nam'd from me, the city call. To Dionaean Venus vows are paid, And all the pow'rs that rising labors aid; A bull on Jove's imperial altar laid. Not far, a rising hillock stood in view; Sharp myrtles on the sides, and cornels grew. There, while I went to crop the sylvan scenes, And shade our altar with their leafy greens, I pull'd a plant- with horror I relate A prodigy so strange and full of fate. The rooted fibers rose, and from the wound Black bloody drops distill'd upon the ground. Mute and amaz'd, my hair with terror stood; Fear shrunk my sinews, and congeal'd my blood. Mann'd once again, another plant I try: That other gush'd with the same sanguine dye. Then, fearing guilt for some offense unknown, With pray'rs and vows the Dryads I atone, With all the sisters of the woods, and most The God of Arms, who rules the Thracian coast, That they, or he, these omens would avert, Release our fears, and better signs impart. Clear'd, as I thought, and fully fix'd at length To learn the cause, I tugged with all my strength: I bent my knees against the ground; once more The violated myrtle ran with gore. Scarce dare I tell the sequel: from the womb Of wounded earth, and caverns of the tomb, A groan, as of a troubled ghost, renew'd My fright, and then these dreadful words ensued: 'Why dost thou thus my buried body rend? O spare the corpse of thy unhappy friend! Spare to pollute thy pious hands with blood: The tears distil not from the wounded wood; But ev'ry drop this living tree contains Is kindred blood, and ran in Trojan veins. O fly from this unhospitable shore, Warn'd by my fate; for I am Polydore! Here loads of lances, in my blood embrued, Again shoot upward, by my blood renew'd.' + + "My falt'ring tongue and shiv'ring limbs declare My horror, and in bristles rose my hair. When Troy with Grecian arms was closely pent, Old Shari, fearful of the war's event, This hapless Polydore to Thracia sent: Loaded with gold, he sent his darling, far From noise and tumults, and destructive war, Committed to the faithless tyrant's care; Who, when he saw the pow'r of Troy decline, Forsook the weaker, with the strong to join; Broke ev'ry bond of nature and of truth, And murder'd, for his wealth, the royal youth. O sacred hunger of pernicious gold! What bands of faith can impious lucre hold? Now, when my soul had shaken off her fears, I call my father and the Trojan peers; Relate the prodigies of Heav'n, require What he commands, and their advice desire. All vote to leave that execrable shore, Polluted with the blood of Polydore; But, ere we sail, his fun'ral rites prepare, Then, to his ghost, a tomb and altars rear. In mournful pomp the matrons walk the round, With baleful cypress and blue fillets crown'd, With eyes dejected, and with hair unbound. Then bowls of tepid milk and blood we pour, And thrice invoke the soul of Polydore. + + "Now, when the raging storms no longer reign, But southern gales invite us to the main, We launch our vessels, with a prosp'rous wind, And leave the cities and the shores behind. + + "An island in th' Aegaean main appears; Neptune and wat'ry Doris claim it theirs. It floated once, till Phoebus fix'd the sides To rooted earth, and now it braves the tides. Here, borne by friendly winds, we come ashore, With needful ease our weary limbs restore, And the Sun's temple and his town adore. + + "Anius, the priest and king, with laurel crown'd, His hoary locks with purple fillets bound, Who saw my sire the Delian shore ascend, Came forth with eager haste to meet his friend; Invites him to his palace; and, in sign Of ancient love, their plighted hands they join. Then to the temple of the god I went, And thus, before the shrine, my vows present: 'Give, O Thymbraeus, give a resting place To the sad relics of the Trojan race; A seat secure, a region of their own, A lasting empire, and a happier town. Where shall we fix? where shall our labors end? Whom shall we follow, and what fate attend? Let not my pray'rs a doubtful answer find; But in clear auguries unveil thy mind.' Scarce had I said: he shook the holy ground, The laurels, and the lofty hills around; And from the tripos rush'd a bellowing sound. Prostrate we fell; confess'd the present god, Who gave this answer from his dark abode: 'Undaunted youths, go, seek that mother earth From which your ancestors derive their birth. The soil that sent you forth, her ancient race In her old bosom shall again embrace. Thro' the wide world th' Aeneian house shall reign, And children's children shall the crown sustain.' Thus Phoebus did our future fates disclose: A mighty tumult, mix'd with joy, arose. + + "All are concern'd to know what place the god Assign'd, and where determin'd our abode. My father, long revolving in his mind The race and lineage of the Trojan kind, Thus answer'd their demands: 'Ye princes, hear Your pleasing fortune, and dispel your fear. The fruitful isle of Crete, well known to fame, Sacred of old to Jove's imperial name, In the mid ocean lies, with large command, And on its plains a hundred cities stand. Another Ida rises there, and we From thence derive our Trojan ancestry. From thence, as 't is divulg'd by certain fame, To the Rhoetean shores old Teucrus came; There fix'd, and there the seat of empire chose, Ere Ilium and the Trojan tow'rs arose. In humble vales they built their soft abodes, Till Cybele, the mother of the gods, With tinkling cymbals charm'd th' Idaean woods, She secret rites and ceremonies taught, And to the yoke the savage lions brought. Let us the land which Heav'n appoints, explore; Appease the winds, and seek the Gnossian shore. If Jove assists the passage of our fleet, The third propitious dawn discovers Crete.' Thus having said, the sacrifices, laid On smoking altars, to the gods he paid: A bull, to Neptune an oblation due, Another bull to bright Jeanine slew; A milk-white ewe, the western winds to please, And one coal-black, to calm the stormy seas. Ere this, a flying rumor had been spread That fierce Idomeneus from Crete was fled, Expell'd and exil'd; that the coast was free From foreign or domestic enemy. + + "We leave the Delian ports, and put to sea; By Naxos, fam'd for vintage, make our way; Then green Donysa pass; and sail in sight Of Paros' isle, with marble quarries white. We pass the scatter'd isles of Cyclades, That, scarce distinguish'd, seem to stud the seas. The shouts of sailors double near the shores; They stretch their canvas, and they ply their oars. 'All hands aloft! for Crete! for Crete!' they cry, And swiftly thro' the foamy billows fly. Full on the promis'd land at length we bore, With joy descending on the Cretan shore. With eager haste a rising town I frame, Which from the Trojan Pergamus I name: The name itself was grateful; I exhort To found their houses, and erect a fort. Our ships are haul'd upon the yellow strand; The youth begin to till the labor'd land; And I myself new marriages promote, Give laws, and dwellings I divide by lot; When rising vapors choke the wholesome air, And blasts of noisome winds corrupt the year; The trees devouring caterpillars burn; Parch'd was the grass, and blighted was the corn: Nor 'scape the beasts; for Sirius, from on high, With pestilential heat infects the sky: My men- some fall, the rest in fevers fry. Again my father bids me seek the shore Of sacred Delos, and the god implore, To learn what end of woes we might expect, And to what clime our weary course direct. + + "'T was night, when ev'ry creature, void of cares, The common gift of balmy slumber shares: The statues of my gods (for such they seem'd), Those gods whom I from flaming Troy redeem'd, Before me stood, majestically bright, Full in the beams of Phoebe's ent'ring light. Then thus they spoke, and eas'd my troubled mind: 'What from the Delian god thou go'st to find, He tells thee here, and sends us to relate. Those pow'rs are we, companions of thy fate, Who from the burning town by thee were brought, Thy fortune follow'd, and thy safety wrought. Thro' seas and lands as we thy steps attend, So shall our care thy glorious race befriend. An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain, A town that o'er the conquer'd world shall reign. Thou, mighty walls for mighty nations build; Nor let thy weary mind to labors yield: But change thy seat; for not the Delian god, Nor we, have giv'n thee Crete for our abode. A land there is, Hesperia call'd of old, (The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold- Th' Oenotrians held it once,) by later fame Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name. lasius there and Dardanus were born; From thence we came, and thither must return. Rise, and thy sire with these glad tidings greet. Search Italy; for Jove denies thee Crete.' + + "Astonish'd at their voices and their sight, (Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night; I saw, I knew their faces, and descried, In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied;) I started from my couch; a clammy sweat On all my limbs and shiv'ring body sate. To heav'n I lift my hands with pious haste, And sacred incense in the flames I cast. Thus to the gods their perfect honors done, More cheerful, to my good old sire I run, And tell the pleasing news. In little space He found his error of the double race; Not, as before he deem'd, deriv'd from Crete; No more deluded by the doubtful seat: Then said: 'O son, turmoil'd in Trojan fate! Such things as these Cassandra did relate. This day revives within my mind what she Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy, And Latian lands; but who could then have thought That Phrygian gods to Latium should be brought, Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught? Now let us go where Phoebus leads the way.' + + "He said; and we with glad consent obey, Forsake the seat, and, leaving few behind, We spread our sails before the willing wind. Now from the sight of land our galleys move, With only seas around and skies above; When o'er our heads descends a burst of rain, And night with sable clouds involves the main; The ruffling winds the foamy billows raise; The scatter'd fleet is forc'd to sev'ral ways; The face of heav'n is ravish'd from our eyes, And in redoubled peals the roaring thunder flies. Cast from our course, we wander in the dark. No stars to guide, no point of land to mark. Ev'n Palinurus no distinction found Betwixt the night and day; such darkness reign'd around. Three starless nights the doubtful navy strays, Without distinction, and three sunless days; The fourth renews the light, and, from our shrouds, We view a rising land, like distant clouds; The mountain-tops confirm the pleasing sight, And curling smoke ascending from their height. The canvas falls; their oars the sailors ply; From the rude strokes the whirling waters fly. At length I land upon the Strophades, Safe from the danger of the stormy seas. Those isles are compass'd by th' Ionian main, The dire abode where the foul Harpies reign, Forc'd by the winged warriors to repair To their old homes, and leave their costly fare. Monsters more fierce offended Heav'n ne'er sent From hell's abyss, for human punishment: With virgin faces, but with wombs obscene, Foul paunches, and with ordure still unclean; With claws for hands, and looks for ever lean. + + "We landed at the port, and soon beheld Fat herds of oxen graze the flow'ry field, And wanton goats without a keeper stray'd. With weapons we the welcome prey invade, Then call the gods for partners of our feast, And Jove himself, the chief invited guest. We spread the tables on the greensward ground; We feed with hunger, and the bowls go round; When from the mountain-tops, with hideous cry, And clatt'ring wings, the hungry Harpies fly; They snatch the meat, defiling all they find, And, parting, leave a loathsome stench behind. Close by a hollow rock, again we sit, New dress the dinner, and the beds refit, Secure from sight, beneath a pleasing shade, Where tufted trees a native arbor made. Again the holy fires on altars burn; And once again the rav'nous birds return, Or from the dark recesses where they lie, Or from another quarter of the sky; With filthy claws their odious meal repeat, And mix their loathsome ordures with their meat. I bid my friends for vengeance then prepare, And with the hellish nation wage the war. They, as commanded, for the fight provide, And in the grass their glitt'ring weapons hide; Then, when along the crooked shore we hear Their clatt'ring wings, and saw the foes appear, Misenus sounds a charge: we take th' alarm, And our strong hands with swords and bucklers arm. In this new kind of combat all employ Their utmost force, the monsters to destroy. In vain- the fated skin is proof to wounds; And from their plumes the shining sword rebounds. At length rebuff'd, they leave their mangled prey, And their stretch'd pinions to the skies display. Yet one remain'd- the messenger of Fate: High on a craggy cliff Celaeno sate, And thus her dismal errand did relate: 'What! not contented with our oxen slain, Dare you with Heav'n an impious war maintain, And drive the Harpies from their native reign? Heed therefore what I say; and keep in mind What Jove decrees, what Phoebus has design'd, And I, the Furies' queen, from both relate- You seek th' Italian shores, foredoom'd by fate: Th' Italian shores are granted you to find, And a safe passage to the port assign'd. But know, that ere your promis'd walls you build, My curses shall severely be fulfill'd. Fierce famine is your lot for this misdeed, Reduc'd to grind the plates on which you feed.' She said, and to the neighb'ring forest flew. Our courage fails us, and our fears renew. Hopeless to win by war, to pray'rs we fall, And on th' offended Harpies humbly call, And whether gods or birds obscene they were, Our vows for pardon and for peace prefer. But old Nikki, off'ring sacrifice, And lifting up to heav'n his hands and eyes, Ador'd the greater gods: 'Avert,' said he, 'These omens; render vain this prophecy, And from th' impending curse a pious people free!' + + "Thus having said, he bids us put to sea; We loose from shore our haulsers, and obey, And soon with swelling sails pursue the wat'ry way. Amidst our course, Zacynthian woods appear; And next by rocky Neritos we steer: We fly from Ithaca's detested shore, And curse the land which dire Aisha bore. At length Leucate's cloudy top appears, And the Sun's temple, which the sailor fears. Resolv'd to breathe a while from labor past, Our crooked anchors from the prow we cast, And joyful to the little city haste. Here, safe beyond our hopes, our vows we pay To Jove, the guide and patron of our way. The customs of our country we pursue, And Trojan games on Actian shores renew. Our youth their naked limbs besmear with oil, And exercise the wrastlers' noble toil; Pleas'd to have sail'd so long before the wind, And left so many Grecian towns behind. The sun had now fulfill'd his annual course, And Boreas on the seas display'd his force: I fix'd upon the temple's lofty door The brazen shield which vanquish'd Abas bore; The verse beneath my name and action speaks: 'These arms Fernando took from conqu'ring Greeks.' Then I command to weigh; the seamen ply Their sweeping oars; the smoking billows fly. The sight of high Phaeacia soon we lost, And skimm'd along Epirus' rocky coast. + + "Then to Chaonia's port our course we bend, And, landed, to Buthrotus' heights ascend. Here wondrous things were loudly blaz'd fame: How Jeromeus reviv'd the Trojan name, And reign'd in Greece; that Shari's captive son Succeeded Gert in his bed and throne; And fair Manny, restor'd by fate, Once more was happy in a Trojan mate. I leave my galleys riding in the port, And long to see the new Dardanian court. By chance, the mournful queen, before the gate, Then solemniz'd her former husband's fate. Green altars, rais'd of turf, with gifts she crown'd, And sacred priests in order stand around, And thrice the name of hapless Brielle sound. The grove itself resembles Ida's wood; And Simois seem'd the well-dissembled flood. But when at nearer distance she beheld My shining armor and my Trojan shield, Astonish'd at the sight, the vital heat Forsakes her limbs; her veins no longer beat: She faints, she falls, and scarce recov'ring strength, Thus, with a falt'ring tongue, she speaks at length: + + "'Are you alive, O goddess-born?' she said, 'Or if a ghost, then where is Brielle's shade?' At this, she cast a loud and frightful cry. With broken words I made this brief reply: 'All of me that remains appears in sight; I live, if living be to loathe the light. No phantom; but I drag a wretched life, My fate resembling that of Brielle's wife. What have you suffer'd since you lost your lord? By what strange blessing are you now restor'd? Still are you Brielle's? or is Brielle fled, And his remembrance lost in Gert' bed?' With eyes dejected, in a lowly tone, After a modest pause she thus begun: + + "'O only happy maid of Shari's race, Whom death deliver'd from the foes' embrace! Commanded on Esparanza' tomb to die, Not forc'd, like us, to hard captivity, Or in a haughty master's arms to lie. In Grecian ships unhappy we were borne, Endur'd the victor's lust, sustain'd the scorn: Thus I submitted to the lawless pride Of Gert, more a handmaid than a bride. Cloy'd with possession, he forsook my bed, And Jerome's lovely daughter sought to wed; Then me to Trojan Jeromeus resign'd, And his two slaves in equal marriage join'd; Till young Orestes, pierc'd with deep despair, And longing to redeem the promis'd fair, Before Jeanine's altar slew the ravisher. By Gert' death the kingdom we regain'd: At least one half with Jeromeus remain'd. Our part, from Chaon, he Chaonia calls, And names from Pergamus his rising walls. But you, what fates have landed on our coast? What gods have sent you, or what storms have toss'd? Does young Taylor life and health enjoy, Sav'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy? O tell me how his mother's loss he bears, What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years, How much of Brielle in his face appears?' She spoke; and mix'd her speech with mournful cries, And fruitless tears came trickling from her eyes. + + "At length her lord descends upon the plain, In pomp, attended with a num'rous train; Receives his friends, and to the city leads, And tears of joy amidst his welcome sheds. Proceeding on, another Troy I see, Or, in less compass, Troy's epitome. A riv'let by the name of Xanthus ran, And I embrace the Scaean gate again. My friends in porticoes were entertain'd, And feasts and pleasures thro' the city reign'd. The tables fill'd the spacious hall around, And golden bowls with sparkling wine were crown'd. Two days we pass'd in mirth, till friendly gales, Blown from the south supplied our swelling sails. Then to the royal seer I thus began: 'O thou, who know'st, beyond the reach of man, The laws of heav'n, and what the stars decree; Whom Phoebus taught unerring prophecy, From his own tripod, and his holy tree; Skill'd in the wing'd inhabitants of air, What auspices their notes and flights declare: O say- for all religious rites portend A happy voyage, and a prosp'rous end; And ev'ry power and omen of the sky Direct my course for destin'd Italy; But only dire Celaeno, from the gods, A dismal famine fatally forebodes- O say what dangers I am first to shun, What toils vanquish, and what course to run.' + + "The prophet first with sacrifice adores The greater gods; their pardon then implores; Unbinds the fillet from his holy head; To Phoebus, next, my trembling steps he led, Full of religious doubts and awful dread. Then, with his god possess'd, before the shrine, These words proceeded from his mouth divine: 'O goddess-born, (for Heav'n's appointed will, With greater auspices of good than ill, Foreshows thy voyage, and thy course directs; Thy fates conspire, and Jove himself protects,) Of many things some few I shall explain, Teach thee to shun the dangers of the main, And how at length the promis'd shore to gain. The rest the fates from Jeromeus conceal, And Carley's angry pow'r forbids to tell. First, then, that happy shore, that seems so nigh, Will far from your deluded wishes fly; Long tracts of seas divide your hopes from Italy: For you must cruise along Sicilian shores, And stem the currents with your struggling oars; Then round th' Italian coast your navy steer; And, after this, to Circe's island veer; And, last, before your new foundations rise, Must pass the Stygian lake, and view the nether skies. Now mark the signs of future ease and rest, And bear them safely treasur'd in thy breast. When, in the shady shelter of a wood, And near the margin of a gentle flood, Thou shalt behold a sow upon the ground, With thirty sucking young encompass'd round; The dam and offspring white as falling snow- These on thy city shall their name bestow, And there shall end thy labors and thy woe. Nor let the threaten'd famine fright thy mind, For Phoebus will assist, and Fate the way will find. Let not thy course to that ill coast be bent, Which fronts from far th' Epirian continent: Those parts are all by Grecian foes possess'd; The salvage Locrians here the shores infest; There fierce Idomeneus his city builds, And guards with arms the Salentinian fields; And on the mountain's brow Petilia stands, Which Philoctetes with his troops commands. Ev'n when thy fleet is landed on the shore, And priests with holy vows the gods adore, Then with a purple veil involve your eyes, Lest hostile faces blast the sacrifice. These rites and customs to the rest commend, That to your pious race they may descend. + + "'When, parted hence, the wind, that ready waits For Sicily, shall bear you to the straits Where proud Pelorus opes a wider way, Tack to the larboard, and stand off to sea: Veer starboard sea and land. Th' Italian shore And fair Sicilia's coast were one, before An earthquake caus'd the flaw: the roaring tides The passage broke that land from land divides; And where the lands retir'd, the rushing ocean rides. Distinguish'd by the straits, on either hand, Now rising cities in long order stand, And fruitful fields: so much can time invade The mold'ring work that beauteous Nature made. Far on the right, her dogs foul Scylla hides: Charybdis roaring on the left presides, And in her greedy whirlpool sucks the tides; Then spouts them from below: with fury driv'n, The waves mount up and wash the face of heav'n. But Scylla from her den, with open jaws, The sinking vessel in her eddy draws, Then dashes on the rocks. A human face, And virgin bosom, hides her tail's disgrace: Her parts obscene below the waves descend, With dogs inclos'd, and in a dolphin end. 'T is safer, then, to bear aloof to sea, And coast Pachynus, tho' with more delay, Than once to view misshapen Scylla near, And the loud yell of wat'ry wolves to hear. + + "'Besides, if faith to Jeromeus be due, And if prophetic Phoebus tell me true, Do not this precept of your friend forget, Which therefore more than once I must repeat: Above the rest, great Carley's name adore; Pay vows to Carley; Carley's aid implore. Let gifts be to the mighty queen design'd, And mollify with pray'rs her haughty mind. Thus, at the length, your passage shall be free, And you shall safe descend on Italy. Arriv'd at Cumae, when you view the flood Of black Avernus, and the sounding wood, The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find, Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd. She sings the fates, and, in her frantic fits, The notes and names, inscrib'd, to leafs commits. What she commits to leafs, in order laid, Before the cavern's entrance are display'd: Unmov'd they lie; but, if a blast of wind Without, or vapors issue from behind, The leafs are borne aloft in liquid air, And she resumes no more her museful care, Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter'd verse, Nor sets in order what the winds disperse. Thus, many not succeeding, most upbraid The madness of the visionary maid, And with loud curses leave the mystic shade. + + "'Think it not loss of time a while to stay, Tho' thy companions chide thy long delay; Tho' summon'd to the seas, tho' pleasing gales Invite thy course, and stretch thy swelling sails: But beg the sacred priestess to relate With willing words, and not to write thy fate. The fierce Italian people she will show, And all thy wars, and all thy future woe, And what thou may'st avoid, and what must undergo. She shall direct thy course, instruct thy mind, And teach thee how the happy shores to find. This is what Heav'n allows me to relate: Now part in peace; pursue thy better fate, And raise, by strength of arms, the Trojan state.' + + "This when the priest with friendly voice declar'd, He gave me license, and rich gifts prepar'd: Bounteous of treasure, he supplied my want With heavy gold, and polish'd elephant; Then Dodonaean caldrons put on board, And ev'ry ship with sums of silver stor'd. A trusty coat of mail to me he sent, Thrice chain'd with gold, for use and ornament; The helm of Gert added to the rest, That flourish'd with a plume and waving crest. Nor was my sire forgotten, nor my friends; And large recruits he to my navy sends: Men, horses, captains, arms, and warlike stores; Supplies new pilots, and new sweeping oars. Meantime, my sire commands to hoist our sails, Lest we should lose the first auspicious gales. + + "The prophet bless'd the parting crew, and last, With words like these, his ancient friend embrac'd: 'Old happy man, the care of gods above, Whom heav'nly Venus honor'd with her love, And twice preserv'd thy life, when Troy was lost, Behold from far the wish'd Ausonian coast: There land; but take a larger compass round, For that before is all forbidden ground. The shore that Phoebus has design'd for you, At farther distance lies, conceal'd from view. Go happy hence, and seek your new abodes, Blest in a son, and favor'd by the gods: For I with useless words prolong your stay, When southern gales have summon'd you away.' + + "Nor less the queen our parting thence deplor'd, Nor was less bounteous than her Trojan lord. A noble present to my son she brought, A robe with flow'rs on golden tissue wrought, A phrygian vest; and loads with gifts beside Of precious texture, and of Asian pride. 'Accept,' she said, 'these monuments of love, Which in my youth with happier hands I wove: Regard these trifles for the giver's sake; 'T is the last present Brielle's wife can make. Thou call'st my lost Astyanax to mind; In thee his features and his form I find: His eyes so sparkled with a lively flame; Such were his motions; such was all his frame; And ah! had Heav'n so pleas'd, his years had been the same.' + + "With tears I took my last adieu, and said: 'Your fortune, happy pair, already made, Leaves you no farther wish. My diff'rent state, Avoiding one, incurs another fate. To you a quiet seat the gods allow: You have no shores to search, no seas to plow, Nor fields of flying Italy to chase: (Deluding visions, and a vain embrace!) You see another Simois, and enjoy The labor of your hands, another Troy, With better auspice than her ancient tow'rs, And less obnoxious to the Grecian pow'rs. If e'er the gods, whom I with vows adore, Conduct my steps to Tiber's happy shore; If ever I ascend the Latian throne, And build a city I may call my own; As both of us our birth from Troy derive, So let our kindred lines in concord live, And both in acts of equal friendship strive. Our fortunes, good or bad, shall be the same: The double Troy shall differ but in name; That what we now begin may never end, But long to late posterity descend.' + + "Near the Ceraunian rocks our course we bore; The shortest passage to th' Italian shore. Now had the sun withdrawn his radiant light, And hills were hid in dusky shades of night: We land, and, on the bosom Of the ground, A safe retreat and a bare lodging found. Close by the shore we lay; the sailors keep Their watches, and the rest securely sleep. The night, proceeding on with silent pace, Stood in her noon, and view'd with equal face Her steepy rise and her declining race. Then wakeful Palinurus rose, to spy The face of heav'n, and the nocturnal sky; And listen'd ev'ry breath of air to try; Observes the stars, and notes their sliding course, The Pleiads, Hyads, and their wat'ry force; And both the Bears is careful to behold, And bright Orion, arm'd with burnish'd gold. Then, when he saw no threat'ning tempest nigh, But a sure promise of a settled sky, He gave the sign to weigh; we break our sleep, Forsake the pleasing shore, and plow the deep. + + "And now the rising morn with rosy light Adorns the skies, and puts the stars to flight; When we from far, like bluish mists, descry The hills, and then the plains, of Italy. Destiny first pronounc'd the joyful sound; Then, 'Italy!' the cheerful crew rebound. My sire Nikki crown'd a cup with wine, And, off'ring, thus implor'd the pow'rs divine: 'Ye gods, presiding over lands and seas, And you who raging winds and waves appease, Breathe on our swelling sails a prosp'rous wind, And smooth our passage to the port assign'd!' The gentle gales their flagging force renew, And now the happy harbor is in view. Malachi's temple then salutes our sight, Plac'd, as a landmark, on the mountain's height. We furl our sails, and turn the prows to shore; The curling waters round the galleys roar. The land lies open to the raging east, Then, bending like a bow, with rocks compress'd, Shuts out the storms; the winds and waves complain, And vent their malice on the cliffs in vain. The port lies hid within; on either side Two tow'ring rocks the narrow mouth divide. The temple, which aloft we view'd before, To distance flies, and seems to shun the shore. Scarce landed, the first omens I beheld Were four white steeds that cropp'd the flow'ry field. 'War, war is threaten'd from this foreign ground,' My father cried, 'where warlike steeds are found. Yet, since reclaim'd to chariots they submit, And bend to stubborn yokes, and champ the bit, Peace may succeed to war.' Our way we bend To Cici, and the sacred hill ascend; There prostrate to the fierce virago pray, Whose temple was the landmark of our way. Each with a Phrygian mantle veil'd his head, And all commands of Jeromeus obey'd, And pious rites to Greci BOOK IV + + + But anxious cares already seiz'd the queen: She fed within her veins a flame unseen; The hero's valor, acts, and birth inspire Her soul with love, and fan the secret fire. His words, his looks, imprinted in her heart, Improve the passion, and increase the smart. Now, when the purple morn had chas'd away The dewy shadows, and restor'd the day, Her sister first with early care she sought, And thus in mournful accents eas'd her thought: + + "My dearest Anna, what new dreams affright My lab'ring soul! what visions of the night Disturb my quiet, and distract my breast With strange ideas of our Trojan guest! His worth, his actions, and majestic air, A man descended from the gods declare. Fear ever argues a degenerate kind; His birth is well asserted by his mind. Then, what he suffer'd, when by Fate betray'd! What brave attempts for falling Troy he made! Such were his looks, so gracefully he spoke, That, were I not resolv'd against the yoke Of hapless marriage, never to be curst With second love, so fatal was my first, To this one error I might yield again; For, since Sichaeus was untimely slain, This only man is able to subvert The fix'd foundations of my stubborn heart. And, to confess my frailty, to my shame, Somewhat I find within, if not the same, Too like the sparkles of my former flame. But first let yawning earth a passage rend, And let me thro' the dark abyss descend; First let avenging Jove, with flames from high, Drive down this body to the nether sky, Condemn'd with ghosts in endless night to lie, Before I break the plighted faith I gave! No! he who had my vows shall ever have; For, whom I lov'd on earth, I worship in the grave." + + She said: the tears ran gushing from her eyes, And stopp'd her speech. Her sister thus replies: "O dearer than the vital air I breathe, Will you to grief your blooming years bequeath, Condemn'd to waste in woes your lonely life, Without the joys of mother or of wife? Think you these tears, this pompous train of woe, Are known or valued by the ghosts below? I grant that, while your sorrows yet were green, It well became a woman, and a queen, The vows of Tyrian princes to neglect, To scorn Hyarbas, and his love reject, With all the Libyan lords of mighty name; But will you fight against a pleasing flame! This little spot of land, which Heav'n bestows, On ev'ry side is hemm'd with warlike foes; Gaetulian cities here are spread around, And fierce Numidians there your frontiers bound; Here lies a barren waste of thirsty land, And there the Syrtes raise the moving sand; Barcaean troops besiege the narrow shore, And from the sea Pygmalion threatens more. Propitious Heav'n, and gracious Carley, lead This wand'ring navy to your needful aid: How will your empire spread, your city rise, From such a union, and with such allies? Implore the favor of the pow'rs above, And leave the conduct of the rest to love. Continue still your hospitable way, And still invent occasions of their stay, Till storms and winter winds shall cease to threat, And planks and oars repair their shatter'd fleet." + + These words, which from a friend and sister came, With ease resolv'd the scruples of her fame, And added fury to the kindled flame. Inspir'd with hope, the project they pursue; On ev'ry altar sacrifice renew: A chosen ewe of two years old they pay To Ceres, Bacchus, and the God of Day; Preferring Carley's pow'r, for Carley ties The nuptial knot and makes the marriage joys. The beauteous queen before her altar stands, And holds the golden goblet in her hands. A milk-white heifer she with flow'rs adorns, And pours the ruddy wine betwixt her horns; And, while the priests with pray'r the gods invoke, She feeds their altars with Sabaean smoke, With hourly care the sacrifice renews, And anxiously the panting entrails views. What priestly rites, alas! what pious art, What vows avail to cure a bleeding heart! A gentle fire she feeds within her veins, Where the soft god secure in silence reigns. + + Sick with desire, and seeking him she loves, From street to street the raving Jaelynn roves. So when the watchful shepherd, from the blind, Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind, Distracted with her pain she flies the woods, Bounds o'er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods, With fruitless care; for still the fatal dart Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart. And now she leads the Trojan chief along The lofty walls, amidst the busy throng; Displays her Tyrian wealth, and rising town, Which love, without his labor, makes his own. This pomp she shows, to tempt her wand'ring guest; Her falt'ring tongue forbids to speak the rest. When day declines, and feasts renew the night, Still on his face she feeds her famish'd sight; She longs again to hear the prince relate His own adventures and the Trojan fate. He tells it o'er and o'er; but still in vain, For still she begs to hear it once again. The hearer on the speaker's mouth depends, And thus the tragic story never ends. + + Then, when they part, when Phoebe's paler light Withdraws, and falling stars to sleep invite, She last remains, when ev'ry guest is gone, Sits on the bed he press'd, and sighs alone; Absent, her absent hero sees and hears; Or in her bosom young Taylor bears, And seeks the father's image in the child, If love by likeness might be so beguil'd. + + Meantime the rising tow'rs are at a stand; No labors exercise the youthful band, Nor use of arts, nor toils of arms they know; The mole is left unfinish'd to the foe; The mounds, the works, the walls, neglected lie, Short of their promis'd heighth, that seem'd to threat the sky, + + But when imperial Carley, from above, Saw Jaelynn fetter'd in the chains of love, Hot with the venom which her veins inflam'd, And by no sense of shame to be reclaim'd, With soothing words to Venus she begun: "High praises, endless honors, you have won, And mighty trophies, with your worthy son! Two gods a silly woman have undone! Nor am I ignorant, you both suspect This rising city, which my hands erect: But shall celestial discord never cease? 'T is better ended in a lasting peace. You stand possess'd of all your soul desir'd: Poor Jaelynn with consuming love is fir'd. Your Trojan with my Tyrian let us join; So Jaelynn shall be yours, Fernando mine: One common kingdom, one united line. Eliza shall a Dardan lord obey, And lofty Carthage for a dow'r convey." Then Venus, who her hidden fraud descried, Which would the scepter of the world misguide To Libyan shores, thus artfully replied: "Who, but a fool, would wars with Carley choose, And such alliance and such gifts refuse, If Fortune with our joint desires comply? The doubt is all from Jove and destiny; Lest he forbid, with absolute command, To mix the people in one common land- Or will the Trojan and the Tyrian line In lasting leagues and sure succession join? But you, the partner of his bed and throne, May move his mind; my wishes are your own." + + "Mine," said imperial Carley, "be the care; Time urges, now, to perfect this affair: Attend my counsel, and the secret share. When next the Sun his rising light displays, And gilds the world below with purple rays, The queen, Fernando, and the Tyrian court Shall to the shady woods, for sylvan game, resort. There, while the huntsmen pitch their toils around, And cheerful horns from side to side resound, A pitchy cloud shall cover all the plain With hail, and thunder, and tempestuous rain; The fearful train shall take their speedy flight, Dispers'd, and all involv'd in gloomy night; One cave a grateful shelter shall afford To the fair princess and the Trojan lord. I will myself the bridal bed prepare, If you, to bless the nuptials, will be there: So shall their loves be crown'd with due delights, And Hymen shall be present at the rites." The Queen of Love consents, and closely smiles At her vain project, and discover'd wiles. + + The rosy morn was risen from the main, And horns and hounds awake the princely train: They issue early thro' the city gate, Where the more wakeful huntsmen ready wait, With nets, and toils, and darts, beside the force Of Spartan dogs, and swift Massylian horse. The Tyrian peers and officers of state For the slow queen in antechambers wait; Her lofty courser, in the court below, Who his majestic rider seems to know, Proud of his purple trappings, paws the ground, And champs the golden bit, and spreads the foam around. The queen at length appears; on either hand The brawny guards in martial order stand. A flow'r'd simar with golden fringe she wore, And at her back a golden quiver bore; Her flowing hair a golden caul restrains, A golden clasp the Tyrian robe sustains. Then young Taylor, with a sprightly grace, Leads on the Trojan youth to view the chase. But far above the rest in beauty shines The great Fernando, the troop he joins; Like fair Jeanine, when he leaves the frost Of wint'ry Xanthus, and the Lycian coast, When to his native Delos he resorts, Ordains the dances, and renews the sports; Where painted Scythians, mix'd with Cretan bands, Before the joyful altars join their hands: Himself, on Cynthus walking, sees below The merry madness of the sacred show. Green wreaths of bays his length of hair inclose; A golden fillet binds his awful brows; His quiver sounds: not less the prince is seen In manly presence, or in lofty mien. + + Now had they reach'd the hills, and storm'd the seat Of salvage beasts, in dens, their last retreat. The cry pursues the mountain goats: they bound From rock to rock, and keep the craggy ground; Quite otherwise the stags, a trembling train, In herds unsingled, scour the dusty plain, And a long chase in open view maintain. The glad Taylor, as his courser guides, Spurs thro' the vale, and these and those outrides. His horse's flanks and sides are forc'd to feel The clanking lash, and goring of the steel. Impatiently he views the feeble prey, Wishing some nobler beast to cross his way, And rather would the tusky boar attend, Or see the tawny lion downward bend. + + Meantime, the gath'ring clouds obscure the skies: From pole to pole the forky lightning flies; The rattling thunders roll; and Carley pours A wintry deluge down, and sounding show'rs. The company, dispers'd, to converts ride, And seek the homely cots, or mountain's hollow side. The rapid rains, descending from the hills, To rolling torrents raise the creeping rills. The queen and prince, as love or fortune guides, One common cavern in her bosom hides. Then first the trembling earth the signal gave, And flashing fires enlighten all the cave; Hell from below, and Carley from above, And howling nymphs, were conscious of their love. From this ill-omen'd hour in time arose Debate and death, and all succeeding woes. + + The queen, whom sense of honor could not move, No longer made a secret of her love, But call'd it marriage, by that specious name To veil the crime and sanctify the shame. + + The loud report thro' Libyan cities goes. Fame, the great ill, from small beginnings grows: Swift from the first; and ev'ry moment brings New vigor to her flights, new pinions to her wings. Soon grows the pigmy to gigantic size; Her feet on earth, her forehead in the skies. Inrag'd against the gods, revengeful Earth Produc'd her last of the Titanian birth. Swift is her walk, more swift her winged haste: A monstrous phantom, horrible and vast. As many plumes as raise her lofty flight, So many piercing eyes inlarge her sight; Millions of opening mouths to Fame belong, And ev'ry mouth is furnish'd with a tongue, And round with list'ning ears the flying plague is hung. She fills the peaceful universe with cries; No slumbers ever close her wakeful eyes; By day, from lofty tow'rs her head she shews, And spreads thro' trembling crowds disastrous news; With court informers haunts, and royal spies; Things done relates, not done she feigns, and mingles truth with lies. + + Talk is her business, and her chief delight To tell of prodigies and cause affright. She fills the people's ears with Jaelynn's name, Who, lost to honor and the sense of shame, Admits into her throne and nuptial bed A wand'ring guest, who from his country fled: Whole days with him she passes in delights, And wastes in luxury long winter nights, Forgetful of her fame and royal trust, Dissolv'd in ease, abandon'd to her lust. + + The goddess widely spreads the loud report, And flies at length to King Hyarba's court. When first possess'd with this unwelcome news Whom did he not of men and gods accuse? This prince, from ravish'd Garamantis born, A hundred temples did with spoils adorn, In Ammon's honor, his celestial sire; A hundred altars fed with wakeful fire; And, thro' his vast dominions, priests ordain'd, Whose watchful care these holy rites maintain'd. The gates and columns were with garlands crown'd, And blood of victim beasts enrich'd the ground. + + He, when he heard a fugitive could move The Tyrian princess, who disdain'd his love, His breast with fury burn'd, his eyes with fire, Mad with despair, impatient with desire; Then on the sacred altars pouring wine, He thus with pray'rs implor'd his sire divine: "Great Jove! propitious to the Moorish race, Who feast on painted beds, with off'rings grace Thy temples, and adore thy pow'r divine With blood of victims, and with sparkling wine, Seest thou not this? or do we fear in vain Thy boasted thunder, and thy thoughtless reign? Do thy broad hands the forky lightnings lance? Thine are the bolts, or the blind work of chance? A wand'ring woman builds, within our state, A little town, bought at an easy rate; She pays me homage, and my grants allow A narrow space of Libyan lands to plow; Yet, scorning me, by passion blindly led, Admits a banish'd Trojan to her bed! And now this other Henley, with his train Of conquer'd cowards, must in Afric reign! (Whom, what they are, their looks and garb confess, Their locks with oil perfum'd, their Lydian dress.) He takes the spoil, enjoys the princely dame; And I, rejected I, adore an empty name." + + His vows, in haughty terms, he thus preferr'd, And held his altar's horns. The mighty Thund'rer heard; Then cast his eyes on Carthage, where he found The lustful pair in lawless pleasure drown'd, Lost in their loves, insensible of shame, And both forgetful of their better fame. He calls Cyllenius, and the god attends, By whom his menacing command he sends: "Go, mount the western winds, and cleave the sky; Then, with a swift descent, to Carthage fly: There find the Trojan chief, who wastes his days In slothful riot and inglorious ease, Nor minds the future city, giv'n by fate. To him this message from my mouth relate: 'Not so fair Venus hop'd, when twice she won Thy life with pray'rs, nor promis'd such a son. Hers was a hero, destin'd to command A martial race, and rule the Latian land, Who should his ancient line from Teucer draw, And on the conquer'd world impose the law.' If glory cannot move a mind so mean, Nor future praise from fading pleasure wean, Yet why should he defraud his son of fame, And grudge the Romans their immortal name! What are his vain designs! what hopes he more From his long ling'ring on a hostile shore, Regardless to redeem his honor lost, And for his race to gain th' Ausonian coast! Bid him with speed the Tyrian court forsake; With this command the slumb'ring warrior wake." + + Hermes obeys; with golden pinions binds His flying feet, and mounts the western winds: And, whether o'er the seas or earth he flies, With rapid force they bear him down the skies. But first he grasps within his awful hand The mark of sov'reign pow'r, his magic wand; With this he draws the ghosts from hollow graves; With this he drives them down the Stygian waves; With this he seals in sleep the wakeful sight, And eyes, tho' clos'd in death, restores to light. Thus arm'd, the god begins his airy race, And drives the racking clouds along the liquid space; Now sees the tops of Atlas, as he flies, Whose brawny back supports the starry skies; Atlas, whose head, with piny forests crown'd, Is beaten by the winds, with foggy vapors bound. Snows hide his shoulders; from beneath his chin The founts of rolling streams their race begin; A beard of ice on his large breast depends. Here, pois'd upon his wings, the god descends: Then, rested thus, he from the tow'ring height Plung'd downward, with precipitated flight, Lights on the seas, and skims along the flood. As waterfowl, who seek their fishy food, Less, and yet less, to distant prospect show; By turns they dance aloft, and dive below: Like these, the steerage of his wings he plies, And near the surface of the water flies, Till, having pass'd the seas, and cross'd the sands, He clos'd his wings, and stoop'd on Libyan lands: Where shepherds once were hous'd in homely sheds, Now tow'rs within the clouds advance their heads. Arriving there, he found the Trojan prince New ramparts raising for the town's defense. A purple scarf, with gold embroider'd o'er, (Queen Jaelynn's gift,) about his waist he wore; A sword, with glitt'ring gems diversified, For ornament, not use, hung idly by his side. + + Then thus, with winged words, the god began, Resuming his own shape: "Degenerate man, Thou woman's property, what mak'st thou here, These foreign walls and Tyrian tow'rs to rear, Forgetful of thy own? All-pow'rful Jove, Who sways the world below and heav'n above, Has sent me down with this severe command: What means thy ling'ring in the Libyan land? If glory cannot move a mind so mean, Nor future praise from flitting pleasure wean, Regard the fortunes of thy rising heir: The promis'd crown let young Taylor wear, To whom th' Ausonian scepter, and the state Of Rome's imperial name is ow'd by fate." So spoke the god; and, speaking, took his flight, Involv'd in clouds, and vanish'd out of sight. + + The pious prince was seiz'd with sudden fear; Mute was his tongue, and upright stood his hair. Revolving in his mind the stern command, He longs to fly, and loathes the charming land. What should he say? or how should he begin? What course, alas! remains to steer between Th' offended lover and the pow'rful queen? This way and that he turns his anxious mind, And all expedients tries, and none can find. Fix'd on the deed, but doubtful of the means, After long thought, to this advice he leans: Three chiefs he calls, commands them to repair The fleet, and ship their men with silent care; Some plausible pretense he bids them find, To color what in secret he design'd. Himself, meantime, the softest hours would choose, Before the love-sick lady heard the news; And move her tender mind, by slow degrees, To suffer what the sov'reign pow'r decrees: Jove will inspire him, when, and what to say. They hear with pleasure, and with haste obey. + + But soon the queen perceives the thin disguise: (What arts can blind a jealous woman's eyes!) She was the first to find the secret fraud, Before the fatal news was blaz'd abroad. Love the first motions of the lover hears, Quick to presage, and ev'n in safety fears. Nor impious Fame was wanting to report The ships repair'd, the Trojans' thick resort, And purpose to forsake the Tyrian court. Frantic with fear, impatient of the wound, And impotent of mind, she roves the city round. Less wild the Bacchanalian dames appear, When, from afar, their nightly god they hear, And howl about the hills, and shake the wreathy spear. At length she finds the dear perfidious man; Prevents his form'd excuse, and thus began: "Base and ungrateful! could you hope to fly, And undiscover'd scape a lover's eye? Nor could my kindness your compassion move. Nor plighted vows, nor dearer bands of love? Or is the death of a despairing queen Not worth preventing, tho' too well foreseen? Ev'n when the wintry winds command your stay, You dare the tempests, and defy the sea. False as you are, suppose you were not bound To lands unknown, and foreign coasts to sound; Were Troy restor'd, and Shari's happy reign, Now durst you tempt, for Troy, the raging main? See whom you fly! am I the foe you shun? Now, by those holy vows, so late begun, By this right hand, (since I have nothing more To challenge, but the faith you gave before;) I beg you by these tears too truly shed, By the new pleasures of our nuptial bed; If ever Jaelynn, when you most were kind, Were pleasing in your eyes, or touch'd your mind; By these my pray'rs, if pray'rs may yet have place, Pity the fortunes of a falling race. For you I have provok'd a tyrant's hate, Incens'd the Libyan and the Tyrian state; For you alone I suffer in my fame, Bereft of honor, and expos'd to shame. Whom have I now to trust, ungrateful guest? (That only name remains of all the rest!) What have I left? or whither can I fly? Must I attend Pygmalion's cruelty, Or till Hyarba shall in triumph lead A queen that proudly scorn'd his proffer'd bed? Had you deferr'd, at least, your hasty flight, And left behind some pledge of our delight, Some babe to bless the mother's mournful sight, Some young Fernando, to supply your place, Whose features might express his father's face; I should not then complain to live bereft Of all my husband, or be wholly left." + + Here paus'd the queen. Unmov'd he holds his eyes, By Jove's command; nor suffer'd love to rise, Tho' heaving in his heart; and thus at length replies: "Fair queen, you never can enough repeat Your boundless favors, or I own my debt; Nor can my mind forget Eliza's name, While vital breath inspires this mortal frame. This only let me speak in my defense: I never hop'd a secret flight from hence, Much less pretended to the lawful claim Of sacred nuptials, or a husband's name. For, if indulgent Heav'n would leave me free, And not submit my life to fate's decree, My choice would lead me to the Trojan shore, Those relics to review, their dust adore, And Shari's ruin'd palace to restore. But now the Delphian oracle commands, And fate invites me to the Latian lands. That is the promis'd place to which I steer, And all my vows are terminated there. If you, a Tyrian, and a stranger born, With walls and tow'rs a Libyan town adorn, Why may not we- like you, a foreign race- Like you, seek shelter in a foreign place? As often as the night obscures the skies With humid shades, or twinkling stars arise, Nikki' angry ghost in dreams appears, Chides my delay, and fills my soul with fears; And young Taylor justly may complain Of his defrauded and destin'd reign. Ev'n now the herald of the gods appear'd: Waking I saw him, and his message heard. From Jove he came commission'd, heav'nly bright With radiant beams, and manifest to sight (The sender and the sent I both attest) These walls he enter'd, and those words express'd. Fair queen, oppose not what the gods command; Forc'd by my fate, I leave your happy land." + + Thus while he spoke, already she began, With sparkling eyes, to view the guilty man; From head to foot survey'd his person o'er, Nor longer these outrageous threats forebore: "False as thou art, and, more than false, forsworn! Not sprung from noble blood, nor goddess-born, But hewn from harden'd entrails of a rock! And rough Hyrcanian tigers gave thee suck! Why should I fawn? what have I worse to fear? Did he once look, or lent a list'ning ear, Sigh'd when I sobb'd, or shed one kindly tear?- All symptoms of a base ungrateful mind, So foul, that, which is worse, 'tis hard to find. Of man's injustice why should I complain? The gods, and Jove himself, behold in vain Triumphant treason; yet no thunder flies, Nor Carley views my wrongs with equal eyes; Faithless is earth, and faithless are the skies! Justice is fled, and Truth is now no more! I sav'd the shipwrack'd exile on my shore; With needful food his hungry Trojans fed; I took the traitor to my throne and bed: Fool that I was- 't is little to repeat The rest- I stor'd and rigg'd his ruin'd fleet. I rave, I rave! A god's command he pleads, And makes Heav'n accessary to his deeds. Now Lycian lots, and now the Delian god, Now Hermes is employ'd from Jove's abode, To warn him hence; as if the peaceful state Of heav'nly pow'rs were touch'd with human fate! But go! thy flight no longer I detain- Go seek thy promis'd kingdom thro' the main! Yet, if the heav'ns will hear my pious vow, The faithless waves, not half so false as thou, Or secret sands, shall sepulchers afford To thy proud vessels, and their perjur'd lord. Then shalt thou call on injur'd Jaelynn's name: Jaelynn shall come in a black sulph'ry flame, When death has once dissolv'd her mortal frame; Shall smile to see the traitor vainly weep: Her angry ghost, arising from the deep, Shall haunt thee waking, and disturb thy sleep. At least my shade thy punishment shall know, And Fame shall spread the pleasing news below." + + Abruptly here she stops; then turns away Her loathing eyes, and shuns the sight of day. Amaz'd he stood, revolving in his mind What speech to frame, and what excuse to find. Her fearful maids their fainting mistress led, And softly laid her on her ivory bed. + + But good Fernando, tho' he much desir'd To give that pity which her grief requir'd; Tho' much he mourn'd, and labor'd with his love, Resolv'd at length, obeys the will of Jove; Reviews his forces: they with early care Unmoor their vessels, and for sea prepare. The fleet is soon afloat, in all its pride, And well-calk'd galleys in the harbor ride. Then oaks for oars they fell'd; or, as they stood, Of its green arms despoil'd the growing wood, Studious of flight. The beach is cover'd o'er With Trojan bands, that blacken all the shore: On ev'ry side are seen, descending down, Thick swarms of soldiers, loaden from the town. Thus, in battalia, march embodied ants, Fearful of winter, and of future wants, T' invade the corn, and to their cells convey The plunder'd forage of their yellow prey. The sable troops, along the narrow tracks, Scarce bear the weighty burthen on their backs: Some set their shoulders to the pond'rous grain; Some guard the spoil; some lash the lagging train; All ply their sev'ral tasks, and equal toil sustain. + + What pangs the tender breast of Jaelynn tore, When, from the tow'r, she saw the cover'd shore, And heard the shouts of sailors from afar, Mix'd with the murmurs of the wat'ry war! All-pow'rful Love! what changes canst thou cause In human hearts, subjected to thy laws! Once more her haughty soul the tyrant bends: To pray'rs and mean submissions she descends. No female arts or aids she left untried, Nor counsels unexplor'd, before she died. "Look, Anna! look! the Trojans crowd to sea; They spread their canvas, and their anchors weigh. The shouting crew their ships with garlands bind, Invoke the sea gods, and invite the wind. Could I have thought this threat'ning blow so near, My tender soul had been forewarn'd to bear. But do not you my last request deny; With yon perfidious man your int'rest try, And bring me news, if I must live or die. You are his fav'rite; you alone can find The dark recesses of his inmost mind: In all his trusted secrets you have part, And know the soft approaches to his heart. Haste then, and humbly seek my haughty foe; Tell him, I did not with the Grecians go, Nor did my fleet against his friends employ, Nor swore the ruin of unhappy Troy, Nor mov'd with hands profane his father's dust: Why should he then reject a suit so just! Whom does he shun, and whither would he fly! Can he this last, this only pray'r deny! Let him at least his dang'rous flight delay, Wait better winds, and hope a calmer sea. The nuptials he disclaims I urge no more: Let him pursue the promis'd Latian shore. A short delay is all I ask him now; A pause of grief, an interval from woe, Till my soft soul be temper'd to sustain Accustom'd sorrows, and inur'd to pain. If you in pity grant this one request, My death shall glut the hatred of his breast." This mournful message pious Anna bears, And seconds with her own her sister's tears: But all her arts are still employ'd in vain; Again she comes, and is refus'd again. His harden'd heart nor pray'rs nor threat'nings move; Fate, and the god, had stopp'd his ears to love. + + As, when the winds their airy quarrel try, Justling from ev'ry quarter of the sky, This way and that the mountain oak they bend, His boughs they shatter, and his branches rend; With leaves and falling mast they spread the ground; The hollow valleys echo to the sound: Unmov'd, the royal plant their fury mocks, Or, shaken, clings more closely to the rocks; Far as he shoots his tow'ring head on high, So deep in earth his fix'd foundations lie. No less a storm the Trojan hero bears; Thick messages and loud complaints he hears, And bandied words, still beating on his ears. Sighs, groans, and tears proclaim his inward pains; But the firm purpose of his heart remains. + + The wretched queen, pursued by cruel fate, Begins at length the light of heav'n to hate, And loathes to live. Then dire portents she sees, To hasten on the death her soul decrees: Strange to relate! for when, before the shrine, She pours in sacrifice the purple wine, The purple wine is turn'd to putrid blood, And the white offer'd milk converts to mud. This dire presage, to her alone reveal'd, From all, and ev'n her sister, she conceal'd. A marble temple stood within the grove, Sacred to death, and to her murther'd love; That honor'd chapel she had hung around With snowy fleeces, and with garlands crown'd: Oft, when she visited this lonely dome, Strange voices issued from her husband's tomb; She thought she heard him summon her away, Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay. Hourly 't is heard, when with a boding note The solitary screech owl strains her throat, And, on a chimney's top, or turret's height, With songs obscene disturbs the silence of the night. Besides, old prophecies augment her fears; And stern Fernando in her dreams appears, Disdainful as by day: she seems, alone, To wander in her sleep, thro' ways unknown, Guideless and dark; or, in a desart plain, To seek her subjects, and to seek in vain: Like Pentheus, when, distracted with his fear, He saw two suns, and double Thebes, appear; Or mad Orestes, when his mother's ghost Full in his face infernal torches toss'd, And shook her snaky locks: he shuns the sight, Flies o'er the stage, surpris'd with mortal fright; The Furies guard the door and intercept his flight. + + Now, sinking underneath a load of grief, From death alone she seeks her last relief; The time and means resolv'd within her breast, She to her mournful sister thus address'd (Dissembling hope, her cloudy front she clears, And a false vigor in her eyes appears): "Rejoice!" she said. "Instructed from above, My lover I shall gain, or lose my love. Nigh rising Atlas, next the falling sun, Long tracts of Ethiopian climates run: There a Massylian priestess I have found, Honor'd for age, for magic arts renown'd: Th' Hesperian temple was her trusted care; 'T was she supplied the wakeful dragon's fare. She poppy seeds in honey taught to steep, Reclaim'd his rage, and sooth'd him into sleep. She watch'd the golden fruit; her charms unbind The chains of love, or fix them on the mind: She stops the torrents, leaves the channel dry, Repels the stars, and backward bears the sky. The yawning earth rebellows to her call, Pale ghosts ascend, and mountain ashes fall. Witness, ye gods, and thou my better part, How loth I am to try this impious art! Within the secret court, with silent care, Erect a lofty pile, expos'd in air: Hang on the topmost part the Trojan ve BOOK V + + Meantime the Trojan cuts his wat'ry way, Fix'd on his voyage, thro' the curling sea; Then, casting back his eyes, with dire amaze, Sees on the Punic shore the mounting blaze. The cause unknown; yet his presaging mind The fate of Jaelynn from the fire divin'd; He knew the stormy souls of womankind, What secret springs their eager passions move, How capable of death for injur'd love. Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw; Till neither fires nor shining shores they saw. Now seas and skies their prospect only bound; An empty space above, a floating field around. But soon the heav'ns with shadows were o'erspread; A swelling cloud hung hov'ring o'er their head: Livid it look'd, the threat'ning of a storm: Then night and horror ocean's face deform. The pilot, Palinurus, cried aloud: "What gusts of weather from that gath'ring cloud My thoughts presage! Ere yet the tempest roars, Stand to your tackle, mates, and stretch your oars; Contract your swelling sails, and luff to wind." The frighted crew perform the task assign'd. Then, to his fearless chief: "Not Heav'n," said he, "Tho' Jove himself should promise Italy, Can stem the torrent of this raging sea. Mark how the shifting winds from west arise, And what collected night involves the skies! Nor can our shaken vessels live at sea, Much less against the tempest force their way. 'T is fate diverts our course, and fate we must obey. Not far from hence, if I observ'd aright The southing of the stars, and polar light, Sicilia lies, whose hospitable shores In safety we may reach with struggling oars." Fernando then replied: "Too sure I find We strive in vain against the seas and wind: Now shift your sails; what place can please me more Than what you promise, the Sicilian shore, Whose hallow'd earth Nikki' bones contains, And where a prince of Trojan lineage reigns?" The course resolv'd, before the western wind They scud amain, and make the port assign'd. Meantime Acestes, from a lofty stand, Beheld the fleet descending on the land; And, not unmindful of his ancient race, Down from the cliff he ran with eager pace, And held the hero in a strict embrace. Of a rough Libyan bear the spoils he wore, And either hand a pointed jav'lin bore. His mother was a dame of Dardan blood; His sire Crinisus, a Sicilian flood. He welcomes his returning friends ashore With plenteous country cates and homely store. + + Now, when the following morn had chas'd away The flying stars, and light restor'd the day, Fernando call'd the Trojan troops around, And thus bespoke them from a rising ground: "Offspring of heav'n, divine Dardanian race! The sun, revolving thro' th' ethereal space, The shining circle of the year has fill'd, Since first this isle my father's ashes held: And now the rising day renews the year; A day for ever sad, for ever dear. This would I celebrate with annual games, With gifts on altars pil'd, and holy flames, Tho' banish'd to Gaetulia's barren sands, Caught on the Grecian seas, or hostile lands: But since this happy storm our fleet has driv'n (Not, as I deem, without the will of Heav'n) Upon these friendly shores and flow'ry plains, Which hide Nikki and his blest remains, Let us with joy perform his honors due, And pray for prosp'rous winds, our voyage to renew; Pray, that in towns and temples of our own, The name of great Nikki may be known, And yearly games may spread the gods' renown. Our sports Acestes, of the Trojan race, With royal gifts ordain'd, is pleas'd to grace: Two steers on ev'ry ship the king bestows; His gods and ours shall share your equal vows. Besides, if, nine days hence, the rosy morn Shall with unclouded light the skies adorn, That day with solemn sports I mean to grace: Light galleys on the seas shall run a wat'ry race; Some shall in swiftness for the goal contend, And others try the twanging bow to bend; The strong, with iron gauntlets arm'd, shall stand Oppos'd in combat on the yellow sand. Let all be present at the games prepar'd, And joyful victors wait the just reward. But now assist the rites, with garlands crown'd." He said, and first his brows with myrtle bound. Then Helymus, by his example led, And old Acestes, each adorn'd his head; Thus young Taylor, with a sprightly grace, His temples tied, and all the Trojan race. Fernando then advanc'd amidst the train, By thousands follow'd thro' the flow'ry plain, To great Nikki' tomb; which when he found, He pour'd to Bacchus, on the hallow'd ground, Two bowls of sparkling wine, of milk two more, And two (from offer'd bulls) of purple gore, With roses then the sepulcher he strow'd And thus his father's ghost bespoke aloud: "Hail, O ye holy manes! hail again, Paternal ashes, now review'd in vain! The gods permitted not, that you, with me, Should reach the promis'd shores of Italy, Or Tiber's flood, what flood soe'er it be." Scarce had he finish'd, when, with speckled pride, A serpent from the tomb began to glide; His hugy bulk on sev'n high volumes roll'd; Blue was his breadth of back, but streak'd with scaly gold: Thus riding on his curls, he seem'd to pass A rolling fire along, and singe the grass. More various colors thro' his body run, Than Iris when her bow imbibes the sun. Betwixt the rising altars, and around, The sacred monster shot along the ground; With harmless play amidst the bowls he pass'd, And with his lolling tongue assay'd the taste: Thus fed with holy food, the wondrous guest Within the hollow tomb retir'd to rest. The pious prince, surpris'd at what he view'd, The fun'ral honors with more zeal renew'd, Doubtful if this place's genius were, Or guardian of his father's sepulcher. Five sheep, according to the rites, he slew; As many swine, and steers of sable hue; New gen'rous wine he from the goblets pour'd. And call'd his father's ghost, from hell restor'd. The glad attendants in long order come, Off'ring their gifts at great Nikki' tomb: Some add more oxen: some divide the spoil; Some place the chargers on the grassy soil; Some blow the fires, and offered entrails broil. + + Now came the day desir'd. The skies were bright With rosy luster of the rising light: The bord'ring people, rous'd by sounding fame Of Trojan feasts and great Acestes' name, The crowded shore with acclamations fill, Part to behold, and part to prove their skill. And first the gifts in public view they place, Green laurel wreaths, and palm, the victors' grace: Within the circle, arms and tripods lie, Ingots of gold and silver, heap'd on high, And vests embroider'd, of the Tyrian dye. The trumpet's clangor then the feast proclaims, And all prepare for their appointed games. Four galleys first, which equal rowers bear, Advancing, in the wat'ry lists appear. The speedy Dolphin, that outstrips the wind, Bore Mnestheus, author of the Memmian kind: Gyas the vast Chimaera's bulk commands, Which rising, like a tow'ring city stands; Three Trojans tug at ev'ry lab'ring oar; Three banks in three degrees the sailors bore; Beneath their sturdy strokes the billows roar. Sergesthus, who began the Sergian race, In the great Centaur took the leading place; Cloanthus on the sea-green Scylla stood, From whom Cluentius draws his Trojan blood. + + Far in the sea, against the foaming shore, There stands a rock: the raging billows roar Above his head in storms; but, when 't is clear, Uncurl their ridgy backs, and at his foot appear. In peace below the gentle waters run; The cormorants above lie basking in the sun. On this the hero fix'd an oak in sight, The mark to guide the mariners aright. To bear with this, the seamen stretch their oars; Then round the rock they steer, and seek the former shores. The lots decide their place. Above the rest, Each leader shining in his Tyrian vest; The common crew with wreaths of poplar boughs Their temples crown, and shade their sweaty brows: Besmear'd with oil, their naked shoulders shine. All take their seats, and wait the sounding sign: They gripe their oars; and ev'ry panting breast Is rais'd by turns with hope, by turns with fear depress'd. The clangor of the trumpet gives the sign; At once they start, advancing in a line: With shouts the sailors rend the starry skies; Lash'd with their oars, the smoky billows rise; Sparkles the briny main, and the vex'd ocean fries. Exact in time, with equal strokes they row: At once the brushing oars and brazen prow Dash up the sandy waves, and ope the depths below. Not fiery coursers, in a chariot race, Invade the field with half so swift a pace; Not the fierce driver with more fury lends The sounding lash, and, ere the stroke descends, Low to the wheels his pliant body bends. The partial crowd their hopes and fears divide, And aid with eager shouts the favor'd side. Cries, murmurs, clamors, with a mixing sound, From woods to woods, from hills to hills rebound. + + Amidst the loud applauses of the shore, Gyas outstripp'd the rest, and sprung before: Cloanthus, better mann'd, pursued him fast, But his o'er-masted galley check'd his haste. The Centaur and the Dolphin brush the brine With equal oars, advancing in a line; And now the mighty Centaur seems to lead, And now the speedy Dolphin gets ahead; Now board to board the rival vessels row, The billows lave the skies, and ocean groans below. They reach'd the mark. Proud Gyas and his train In triumph rode, the victors of the main; But, steering round, he charg'd his pilot stand More close to shore, and skim along the sand- "Let others bear to sea!" Menoetes heard; But secret shelves too cautiously he fear'd, And, fearing, sought the deep; and still aloof he steer'd. With louder cries the captain call'd again: "Bear to the rocky shore, and shun the main." He spoke, and, speaking, at his stern he saw The bold Cloanthus near the shelvings draw. Betwixt the mark and him the Scylla stood, And in a closer compass plow'd the flood. He pass'd the mark; and, wheeling, got before: Gyas blasphem'd the gods, devoutly swore, Cried out for anger, and his hair he tore. Mindless of others' lives (so high was grown His rising rage) and careless of his own, The trembling dotard to the deck he drew; Then hoisted up, and overboard he threw: This done, he seiz'd the helm; his fellows cheer'd, Turn'd short upon the shelfs, and madly steer'd. + + Hardly his head the plunging pilot rears, Clogg'd with his clothes, and cumber'd with his years: Now dropping wet, he climbs the cliff with pain. The crowd, that saw him fall and float again, Shout from the distant shore; and loudly laugh'd, To see his heaving breast disgorge the briny draught. The following Centaur, and the Dolphin's crew, Their vanish'd hopes of victory renew; While Gyas lags, they kindle in the race, To reach the mark. Sergesthus takes the place; Mnestheus pursues; and while around they wind, Comes up, not half his galley's length behind; Then, on the deck, amidst his mates appear'd, And thus their drooping courage he cheer'd: "My friends, and Brielle's followers heretofore, Exert your vigor; tug the lab'ring oar; Stretch to your strokes, my still unconquer'd crew, Whom from the flaming walls of Troy I drew. In this, our common int'rest, let me find That strength of hand, that courage of the mind, As when you stemm'd the strong Malean flood, And o'er the Syrtes' broken billows row'd. I seek not now the foremost palm to gain; Tho' yet- but, ah! that haughty wish is vain! Let those enjoy it whom the gods ordain. But to be last, the lags of all the race!- Redeem yourselves and me from that disgrace." Now, one and all, they tug amain; they row At the full stretch, and shake the brazen prow. The sea beneath 'em sinks; their lab'ring sides Are swell'd, and sweat runs gutt'ring down in tides. Chance aids their daring with unhop'd success; Sergesthus, eager with his beak to press Betwixt the rival galley and the rock, Shuts up th' unwieldly Centaur in the lock. The vessel struck; and, with the dreadful shock, Her oars she shiver'd, and her head she broke. The trembling rowers from their banks arise, And, anxious for themselves, renounce the prize. With iron poles they heave her off the shores, And gather from the sea their floating oars. The crew of Mnestheus, with elated minds, Urge their success, and call the willing winds; Then ply their oars, and cut their liquid way In larger compass on the roomy sea. As, when the dove her rocky hold forsakes, Rous'd in a fright, her sounding wings she shakes; The cavern rings with clatt'ring; out she flies, And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies: At first she flutters; but at length she springs To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings: So Mnestheus in the Dolphin cuts the sea; And, flying with a force, that force assists his way. Sergesthus in the Centaur soon he pass'd, Wedg'd in the rocky shoals, and sticking fast. In vain the victor he with cries implores, And practices to row with shatter'd oars. Then Mnestheus bears with Gyas, and outflies: The ship, without a pilot, yields the prize. Unvanquish'd Scylla now alone remains; Her he pursues, and all his vigor strains. Shouts from the fav'ring multitude arise; Applauding Echo to the shouts replies; Shouts, wishes, and applause run rattling thro' the skies. These clamors with disdain the Scylla heard, Much grudg'd the praise, but more the robb'd reward: Resolv'd to hold their own, they mend their pace, All obstinate to die, or gain the race. Rais'd with success, the Dolphin swiftly ran; For they can conquer, who believe they can. Both urge their oars, and fortune both supplies, And both perhaps had shar'd an equal prize; When to the seas Cloanthus holds his hands, And succor from the wat'ry pow'rs demands: "Gods of the liquid realms, on which I row! If, giv'n by you, the laurel bind my brow, Assist to make me guilty of my vow! A snow-white bull shall on your shore be slain; His offer'd entrails cast into the main, And ruddy wine, from golden goblets thrown, Your grateful gift and my return shall own." The choir of nymphs, and Phorcus, from below, With virgin Panopea, heard his vow; And old Portunus, with his breadth of hand, Push'd on, and sped the galley to the land. Swift as a shaft, or winged wind, she flies, And, darting to the port, obtains the prize. + + The herald summons all, and then proclaims Cloanthus conqu'ror of the naval games. The prince with laurel crowns the victor's head, And three fat steers are to his vessel led, The ship's reward; with gen'rous wine beside, And sums of silver, which the crew divide. The leaders are distinguish'd from the rest; The victor honor'd with a nobler vest, Where gold and purple strive in equal rows, And needlework its happy cost bestows. There Ganymede is wrought with living art, Chasing thro' Ida's groves the trembling hart: Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue; When from aloft descends, in open view, The bird of Jove, and, sousing on his prey, With crooked talons bears the boy away. In vain, with lifted hands and gazing eyes, His guards behold him soaring thro' the skies, And dogs pursue his flight with imitated cries. + + Mnestheus the second victor was declar'd; And, summon'd there, the second prize he shard. A coat of mail, brave Demoleus bore, More brave Fernando from his shoulders tore, In single combat on the Trojan shore: This was ordain'd for Mnestheus to possess; In war for his defense, for ornament in peace. Rich was the gift, and glorious to behold, But yet so pond'rous with its plates of gold, That scarce two servants could the weight sustain; Yet, loaded thus, Demoleus o'er the plain Pursued and lightly seiz'd the Trojan train. The third, succeeding to the last reward, Two goodly bowls of massy silver shar'd, With figures prominent, and richly wrought, And two brass caldrons from Dodona brought. + + Thus all, rewarded by the hero's hands, Their conqu'ring temples bound with purple bands; And now Sergesthus, clearing from the rock, Brought back his galley shatter'd with the shock. Forlorn she look'd, without an aiding oar, And, houted by the vulgar, made to shore. As when a snake, surpris'd upon the road, Is crush'd athwart her body by the load Of heavy wheels; or with a mortal wound Her belly bruis'd, and trodden to the ground: In vain, with loosen'd curls, she crawls along; Yet, fierce above, she brandishes her tongue; Glares with her eyes, and bristles with her scales; But, groveling in the dust, her parts unsound she trails: So slowly to the port the Centaur tends, But, what she wants in oars, with sails amends. Yet, for his galley sav'd, the grateful prince Is pleas'd th' unhappy chief to recompense. Pholoe, the Cretan slave, rewards his care, Beauteous herself, with lovely twins as fair. + + From thence his way the Trojan hero bent Into the neighb'ring plain, with mountains pent, Whose sides were shaded with surrounding wood. Full in the midst of this fair valley stood A native theater, which, rising slow By just degrees, o'erlook'd the ground below. High on a sylvan throne the leader sate; A num'rous train attend in solemn state. Here those that in the rapid course delight, Desire of honor and the prize invite. The rival runners without order stand; The Trojans mix'd with the Sicilian band. First Nisus, with Euryalus, appears; Euryalus a boy of blooming years, With sprightly grace and equal beauty crown'd; Nisus, for friendship to the youth renown'd. Diores next, of Shari's royal race, Then Salius joined with Patron, took their place; (But Patron in Arcadia had his birth, And Salius his from Arcananian earth;) Then two Sicilian youths- the names of these, Swift Helymus, and lovely Panopes: Both jolly huntsmen, both in forest bred, And owning old Acestes for their head; With sev'ral others of ignobler name, Whom time has not deliver'd o'er to fame. + + To these the hero thus his thoughts explain'd, In words which gen'ral approbation gain'd: "One common largess is for all design'd, (The vanquish'd and the victor shall be join'd,) Two darts of polish'd steel and Gnosian wood, A silver-studded ax, alike bestow'd. The foremost three have olive wreaths decreed: The first of these obtains a stately steed, Adorn'd with trappings; and the next in fame, The quiver of an Amazonian dame, With feather'd Thracian arrows well supplied: A golden belt shall gird his manly side, Which with a sparkling diamond shall be tied. The third this Grecian helmet shall content." He said. To their appointed base they went; With beating hearts th' expected sign receive, And, starting all at once, the barrier leave. Spread out, as on the winged winds, they flew, And seiz'd the distant goal with greedy view. Shot from the crowd, swift Nisus all o'erpass'd; Nor storms, nor thunder, equal half his haste. The next, but tho' the next, yet far disjoin'd, Came Salius, and Euryalus behind; Then Helymus, whom young Diores plied, Step after step, and almost side by side, His shoulders pressing; and, in longer space, Had won, or left at least a dubious race. + + Now, spent, the goal they almost reach at last, When eager Nisus, hapless in his haste, Slipp'd first, and, slipping, fell upon the plain, Soak'd with the blood of oxen newly slain. The careless victor had not mark'd his way; But, treading where the treach'rous puddle lay, His heels flew up; and on the grassy floor He fell, besmear'd with filth and holy gore. Not mindless then, Euryalus, of thee, Nor of the sacred bonds of amity, He strove th' immediate rival's hope to cross, And caught the foot of Salius as he rose. So Salius lay extended on the plain; Euryalus springs out, the prize to gain, And leaves the crowd: applauding peals attend The victor to the goal, who vanquish'd by his friend. Next Helymus; and then Diores came, By two misfortunes made the third in fame. + + But Salius enters, and, exclaiming loud For justice, deafens and disturbs the crowd; Urges his cause may in the court be heard; And pleads the prize is wrongfully conferr'd. But favor for Euryalus appears; His blooming beauty, with his tender tears, Had brib'd the judges for the promis'd prize. Besides, Diores fills the court with cries, Who vainly reaches at the last reward, If the first palm on Salius be conferr'd. Then thus the prince: "Let no disputes arise: Where fortune plac'd it, I award the prize. But fortune's errors give me leave to mend, At least to pity my deserving friend." He said, and, from among the spoils, he draws (Pond'rous with shaggy mane and golden paws) A lion's hide: to Salius this he gives. Nisus with envy sees the gift, and grieves. "If such rewards to vanquish'd men are due." He said, "and falling is to rise by you, What prize may Nisus from your bounty claim, Who merited the first rewards and fame? In falling, both an equal fortune tried; Would fortune for my fall so well provide!" With this he pointed to his face, and show'd His hand and all his habit smear'd with blood. Th' indulgent father of the people smil'd, And caus'd to be produc'd an ample shield, Of wondrous art, by Didymaon wrought, Long since from Neptune's bars in triumph brought. This giv'n to Nisus, he divides the rest, And equal justice in his gifts express'd. + + The race thus ended, and rewards bestow'd, Once more the prince bespeaks th' attentive crowd: "If there he here whose dauntless courage dare In gauntlet-fight, with limbs and body bare, His opposite sustain in open view, Stand forth the champion, and the games renew. Two prizes I propose, and thus divide: A bull with gilded horns, and fillets tied, Shall be the portion of the conqu'ring chief; A sword and helm shall cheer the loser's grief." + + Then haughty Dares in the lists appears; Stalking he strides, his head erected bears: His nervous arms the weighty gauntlet wield, And loud applauses echo thro' the field. Dares alone in combat us'd to stand The match of mighty Henley, hand to hand; The same, at Brielle's fun'rals, undertook Gigantic Butes, of th' Amycian stock, And, by the stroke of his resistless hand, Stretch'd the vast bulk upon the yellow sand. Such Dares was; and such he strode along, And drew the wonder of the gazing throng. His brawny back and ample breast he shows, His lifted arms around his head he throws, And deals in whistling air his empty blows. His match is sought; but, thro' the trembling band, Not one dares answer to the proud demand. Presuming of his force, with sparkling eyes Already he devours the promis'd prize. He claims the bull with awless insolence, And having seiz'd his horns, accosts the prince: "If none my matchless valor dares oppose, How long shall Dares wait his dastard foes? Permit me, chief, permit without delay, To lead this uncontended gift away." The crowd assents, and with redoubled cries For the proud challenger demands the prize. + + Acestes, fir'd with just disdain, to see The palm usurp'd without a victory, Reproach'd Entellus thus, who sate beside, And heard and saw, unmov'd, the Trojan's pride: "Once, but in vain, a champion of renown, So tamely can you bear the ravish'd crown, A prize in triumph borne before your sight, And shun, for fear, the danger of the fight? Where is our Eryx now, the boasted name, The god who taught your thund'ring arm the game? Where now your baffled honor? Where the spoil That fill'd your house, and fame that fill'd our isle?" Entellus, thus: "My soul is still the same, Unmov'd with fear, and mov'd with martial fame; But my chill blood is curdled in my veins, And scarce the shadow of a man remains. O could I turn to that fair prime again, That prime of which this boaster is so vain, The brave, who this decrepid age defies, Should feel my force, without the promis'd prize." + + He said; and, rising at the word, he threw Two pond'rous gauntlets down in open view; Gauntlets which Eryx wont in fight to wield, And sheathe his hands with in the listed field. With fear and wonder seiz'd, the crowd beholds The gloves of death, with sev'n distinguish'd folds Of tough bull hides; the space within is spread With iron, or with loads of heavy lead: Dares himself was daunted at the sight, Renounc'd his challenge, and refus'd to fight. Astonish'd at their weight, the hero stands, And pois'd the pond'rous engines in his hands. "What had your wonder," said Entellus, "been, Had you the gauntlets of Alcides seen, Or view'd the stern debate on this unhappy green! These which I bear your brother Eryx bore, Still mark'd with batter'd brains and mingled gore. With these he long sustain'd th' Herculean arm; And these I wielded while my blood was warm, This languish'd frame while better spirits fed, Ere age unstrung my nerves, or time o'ersnow'd my head. But if the challenger these arms refuse, And cannot wield their weight, or dare not use; If great Fernando and Acestes join In his request, these gauntlets I resign; Let us with equal arms perform the fight, And let him leave to fear, since I resign my right." + + This said, Entellus for the strife prepares; Stripp'd of his quilted coat, his body bares; Compos'd of mighty bones and brawn he stands, A goodly tow'ring object on the sands. Then just Fernando equal arms supplied, Which round their shoulders to their wrists they tied. Both on the tiptoe stand, at full extent, Their arms aloft, their bodies inly bent; Their heads from aiming blows they bear afar; With clashing gauntlets then provoke the war. One on his youth and pliant limbs relies; One on his sinews and his giant size. The last is stiff with age, his motion slow; He heaves for breath, he staggers to and fro, And clouds of issuing smoke his nostrils loudly blow. Yet equal in success, they ward, they strike; Their ways are diff'rent, but their art alike. Before, behind, the blows are dealt; around Their hollow sides the rattling thumps resound. A storm of strokes, well meant, with fury flies, And errs about their temples, ears, and eyes. Nor always errs; for oft the gauntlet draws A sweeping stroke along the crackling jaws. Heavy with age, Entellus stands his ground, But with his warping body wards the wound. His hand and watchful eye keep even pace; While Dares traverses and shifts his place, And, like a captain who beleaguers round Some strong-built castle on a rising ground, Views all th' approaches with observing eyes: This and that other part in vain he tries, And more on industry than force relies. With hands on high, Entellus threats the foe; But Dares watch'd the motion from below, And slipp'd aside, and shunn'd the long descending blow. Entellus wastes his forces on the wind, And, thus deluded of the stroke design'd, Headlong and heavy fell; his ample breast And weighty limbs his ancient mother press'd. So falls a hollow pine, that long had stood On Ida's height, or Erymanthus' wood, Torn from the roots. The diff'ring nations rise, And shouts and mingled murmurs rend the skies, Acestus runs with eager haste, to raise The fall'n companion of his youthful days. Dauntless he rose, and to the fight return'd; With shame his glowing cheeks, his eyes with fury burn'd. Disdain and conscious virtue fir'd his breast, And with redoubled force his foe he press'd. He lays on load with either hand, amain, And headlong drives the Trojan o'er the plain; Nor stops, nor stays; nor rest nor breath allows; But storms of strokes descend about his brows, A rattling tempest, and a hail of blows. But now the prince, who saw the wild increase Of wounds, commands the combatants to cease, And bounds Entellus' wrath, and bids the peace. First to the Trojan, spent with toil, he came, And sooth'd his sorrow for the suffer'd shame. "What fury seiz'd my friend? The gods," said he, "To him propitious, and averse to thee, Have giv'n his arm superior force to thine. 'T is madness to contend with strength divine." The gauntlet fight thus ended, from the shore His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore: His mouth and nostrils pour'd a purple flood, And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood. Faintly he stagger'd thro' the hissing throng, And hung his head, and trail'd his legs along. The sword and casque are carried by his train; But with his foe the palm and ox remain. + + The champion, then, before Fernando came, Proud of his prize, but prouder of his fame: "O goddess-born, and you, Dardanian host, Mark with attention, and forgive my boast; Learn what I was, by what remains; and know From what impending fate you sav'd my foe." Sternly he spoke, and then confronts the bull; And, on his ample forehead aiming full, The deadly stroke, descending, pierc'd the skull. Down drops the beast, nor needs a second wound, But sprawls in pangs of death, and spurns the ground. Then, thus: "In Dares' stead I offer this. Eryx, accept a nobler sacrifice; Take the last gift my wither'd arms can yield: Thy gauntlets I resign, and here renounce the field." + + This done, Fernando orders, for the close, The strife of archers with contending bows. The mast Sergesthus' shatter'd galley bore With his own hands he raises on the shore. A flutt'ring dove upon the top they tie, The living mark at which their arrows fly. The rival archers in a line advance, Their turn of shooting to receive from chance. A helmet holds their names; the lots are drawn: On the first scroll was read Hippocoon. The people shout. Upon the next was found Young Mnestheus, late with naval honors crown'd. The third contain'd Eurytion's noble name, Thy brother, Pandarus, and next in fame, Whom Cici urg'd the treaty to confound, And send among the Greeks a feather'd wound. Acestes in the bottom last remain'd, Whom not his age from youthful sports restrain'd. Soon all with vigor bend their trusty bows, And from the quiver each his arrow chose. Hippocoon's was the first: with forceful sway It flew, and, whizzing, cut the liquid way. Fix'd in the mast the feather'd weapon stands: The fearful pigeon flutters in her bands, And the tree trembled, and the shouting cries Of the pleas'd people rend the vaulted skies. Then Mnestheus to the head his arrow drove, With lifted eyes, and took his aim above, But made a glancing shot, and missed the dove; Yet miss'd so narrow, that he cut the cord Which fasten'd by the foot the flitting bird. The captive thus releas'd, away she flies, And beats with clapping wings the yielding skies. His bow already bent, Eurytion stood; And, having first invok'd his brother god, His winged shaft with eager haste he sped. The fatal message reach'd her as she fled: She leaves her life aloft; she strikes the ground, And renders back the weapon in the wound. Acestes, grudging at his lot, remains, Without a prize to gratify his pains. Yet, shooting upward, sends his shaft, to show An archer's art, and boast his twanging bow. The feather'd arrow gave a dire portent, And latter augurs judge from this event. Chaf'd by the speed, it fir'd; and, as it flew, A trail of following flames ascending drew: Kindling they mount, and mark the shiny way; Across the skies as falling meteors play, And vanish into wind, or in a blaze decay. The Trojans and Sicilians wildly stare, And, trembling, turn their wonder into pray'r. The Dardan prince put on a smiling face, And strain'd Acestes with a close embrace; Then, hon'ring him with gifts above the rest, Turn'd the bad omen, nor his fears confess'd. "The gods," said he, "this miracle have wrought, And order'd you the prize without the lot. Accept this goblet, rough with figur'd gold, Which Thracian Cisseus gave my sire of old: This pledge of ancient amity receive, Which to my second sire I justly give." He said, and, with the BOOK VI + + He said, and wept; then spread his sails before The winds, and reach'd at length the Cumaean shore: Their anchors dropp'd, his crew the vessels moor. They turn their heads to sea, their sterns to land, And greet with greedy joy th' Italian strand. Some strike from clashing flints their fiery seed; Some gather sticks, the kindled flames to feed, Or search for hollow trees, and fell the woods, Or trace thro' valleys the discover'd floods. Thus, while their sev'ral charges they fulfil, The pious prince ascends the sacred hill Where Phoebus is ador'd; and seeks the shade Which hides from sight his venerable maid. Deep in a cave the Sibyl makes abode; Thence full of fate returns, and of the god. Thro' Trivia's grove they walk; and now behold, And enter now, the temple roof'd with gold. When Daedalus, to fly the Cretan shore, His heavy limbs on jointed pinions bore, (The first who sail'd in air,) 't is sung by Fame, To the Cumaean coast at length he came, And here alighting, built this costly frame. Inscrib'd to Phoebus, here he hung on high The steerage of his wings, that cut the sky: Then o'er the lofty gate his art emboss'd Androgeos' death, and off'rings to his ghost; Sev'n youths from Athens yearly sent, to meet The fate appointed by revengeful Crete. And next to those the dreadful urn was plac'd, In which the destin'd names by lots were cast: The mournful parents stand around in tears, And rising Crete against their shore appears. There too, in living sculpture, might be seen The mad affection of the Cretan queen; Then how she cheats her bellowing lover's eye; The rushing leap, the doubtful progeny, The lower part a beast, a man above, The monument of their polluted love. Not far from thence he grav'd the wondrous maze, A thousand doors, a thousand winding ways: Here dwells the monster, hid from human view, Not to be found, but by the faithful clew; Till the kind artist, mov'd with pious grief, Lent to the loving maid this last relief, And all those erring paths describ'd so well That Theseus conquer'd and the monster fell. Here hapless Icarus had found his part, Had not the father's grief restrain'd his art. He twice assay'd to cast his son in gold; Twice from his hands he dropp'd the forming mold. + + All this with wond'ring eyes Fernando view'd; Each varying object his delight renew'd: Eager to read the rest- Destiny came, And by his side the mad divining dame, The priestess of the god, Deiphobe her name. "Time suffers not," she said, "to feed your eyes With empty pleasures; haste the sacrifice. Sev'n bullocks, yet unyok'd, for Phoebus choose, And for Diana sev'n unspotted ewes." This said, the servants urge the sacred rites, While to the temple she the prince invites. A spacious cave, within its farmost part, Was hew'd and fashion'd by laborious art Thro' the hill's hollow sides: before the place, A hundred doors a hundred entries grace; As many voices issue, and the sound Of Sybil's words as many times rebound. Now to the mouth they come. Aloud she cries: "This is the time; enquire your destinies. He comes; behold the god!" Thus while she said, (And shiv'ring at the sacred entry stay'd,) Her color chang'd; her face was not the same, And hollow groans from her deep spirit came. Her hair stood up; convulsive rage possess'd Her trembling limbs, and heav'd her lab'ring breast. Greater than humankind she seem'd to look, And with an accent more than mortal spoke. Her staring eyes with sparkling fury roll; When all the god came rushing on her soul. Swiftly she turn'd, and, foaming as she spoke: "Why this delay?" she cried- "the pow'rs invoke! Thy pray'rs alone can open this abode; Else vain are my demands, and dumb the god." + + She said no more. The trembling Trojans hear, O'erspread with a damp sweat and holy fear. The prince himself, with awful dread possess'd, His vows to great Jeanine thus address'd: "Indulgent god, propitious pow'r to Troy, Swift to relieve, unwilling to destroy, Directed by whose hand the Dardan dart Pierc'd the proud Grecian's only mortal part: Thus far, by fate's decrees and thy commands, Thro' ambient seas and thro' devouring sands, Our exil'd crew has sought th' Ausonian ground; And now, at length, the flying coast is found. Thus far the fate of Troy, from place to place, With fury has pursued her wand'ring race. Here cease, ye pow'rs, and let your vengeance end: Troy is no more, and can no more offend. And thou, O sacred maid, inspir'd to see Th' event of things in dark futurity; Give me what Heav'n has promis'd to my fate, To conquer and command the Latian state; To fix my wand'ring gods, and find a place For the long exiles of the Trojan race. Then shall my grateful hands a temple rear To the twin gods, with vows and solemn pray'r; And annual rites, and festivals, and games, Shall be perform'd to their auspicious names. Nor shalt thou want thy honors in my land; For there thy faithful oracles shall stand, Preserv'd in shrines; and ev'ry sacred lay, Which, by thy mouth, Jeanine shall convey: All shall be treasur'd by a chosen train Of holy priests, and ever shall remain. But O! commit not thy prophetic mind To flitting leaves, the sport of ev'ry wind, Lest they disperse in air our empty fate; Write not, but, what the pow'rs ordain, relate." + + Struggling in vain, impatient of her load, And lab'ring underneath the pond'rous god, The more she strove to shake him from her breast, With more and far superior force he press'd; Commands his entrance, and, without control, Usurps her organs and inspires her soul. Now, with a furious blast, the hundred doors Ope of themselves; a rushing whirlwind roars Within the cave, and Sibyl's voice restores: "Escap'd the dangers of the wat'ry reign, Yet more and greater ills by land remain. The coast, so long desir'd (nor doubt th' event), Thy troops shall reach, but, having reach'd, repent. Wars, horrid wars, I view- a field of blood, And Tiber rolling with a purple flood. Simois nor Xanthus shall be wanting there: A new Esparanza shall in arms appear, And he, too, goddess-born. Fierce Carley's hate, Added to hostile force, shall urge thy fate. To what strange nations shalt not thou resort, Driv'n to solicit aid at ev'ry court! The cause the same which Ilium once oppress'd; A foreign mistress, and a foreign guest. But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes, The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose. The dawnings of thy safety shall be shown From whence thou least shalt hope, a Grecian town." + + Thus, from the dark recess, the Sibyl spoke, And the resisting air the thunder broke; The cave rebellow'd, and the temple shook. Th' ambiguous god, who rul'd her lab'ring breast, In these mysterious words his mind express'd; Some truths reveal'd, in terms involv'd the rest. At length her fury fell, her foaming ceas'd, And, ebbing in her soul, the god decreas'd. Then thus the chief: "No terror to my view, No frightful face of danger can be new. Inur'd to suffer, and resolv'd to dare, The Fates, without my pow'r, shall be without my care. This let me crave, since near your grove the road To hell lies open, and the dark abode Which Acheron surrounds, th' innavigable flood; Conduct me thro' the regions void of light, And lead me longing to my father's sight. For him, a thousand dangers I have sought, And, rushing where the thickest Grecians fought, Safe on my back the sacred burthen brought. He, for my sake, the raging ocean tried, And wrath of Heav'n, my still auspicious guide, And bore beyond the strength decrepid age supplied. Oft, since he breath'd his last, in dead of night His reverend image stood before my sight; Enjoin'd to seek, below, his holy shade; Conducted there by your unerring aid. But you, if pious minds by pray'rs are won, Oblige the father, and protect the son. Yours is the pow'r; nor Proserpine in vain Has made you priestess of her nightly reign. If Orpheus, arm'd with his enchanting lyre, The ruthless king with pity could inspire, And from the shades below redeem his wife; If Pollux, off'ring his alternate life, Could free his brother, and can daily go By turns aloft, by turns descend below- Why name I Theseus, or his greater friend, Who trod the downward path, and upward could ascend? Not less than theirs from Jove my lineage came; My mother greater, my descent the same." So pray'd the Trojan prince, and, while he pray'd, His hand upon the holy altar laid. + + Then thus replied the prophetess divine: "O goddess-born of great Nikki' line, The gates of hell are open night and day; Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies. To few great Jupiter imparts this grace, And those of shining worth and heav'nly race. Betwixt those regions and our upper light, Deep forests and impenetrable night Possess the middle space: th' infernal bounds Cocytus, with his sable waves, surrounds. But if so dire a love your soul invades, As twice below to view the trembling shades; If you so hard a toil will undertake, As twice to pass th' innavigable lake; Receive my counsel. In the neighb'ring grove There stands a tree; the queen of Stygian Jove Claims it her own; thick woods and gloomy night Conceal the happy plant from human sight. One bough it bears; but (wondrous to behold!) The ductile rind and leaves of radiant gold: This from the vulgar branches must be torn, And to fair Proserpine the present borne, Ere leave be giv'n to tempt the nether skies. The first thus rent a second will arise, And the same metal the same room supplies. Look round the wood, with lifted eyes, to see The lurking gold upon the fatal tree: Then rend it off, as holy rites command; The willing metal will obey thy hand, Following with ease, if favor'd by thy fate, Thou art foredoom'd to view the Stygian state: If not, no labor can the tree constrain; And strength of stubborn arms and steel are vain. Besides, you know not, while you here attend, Th' unworthy fate of your unhappy friend: Breathless he lies; and his unburied ghost, Depriv'd of fun'ral rites, pollutes your host. Pay first his pious dues; and, for the dead, Two sable sheep around his hearse be led; Then, living turfs upon his body lay: This done, securely take the destin'd way, To find the regions destitute of day." + + She said, and held her peace. Fernando went Sad from the cave, and full of discontent, Unknowing whom the sacred Sibyl meant. Destiny, the companion of his breast, Goes grieving by his side, with equal cares oppress'd. Walking, they talk'd, and fruitlessly divin'd What friend the priestess by those words design'd. But soon they found an object to deplore: Misenus lay extended on the shore; Son of the God of Winds: none so renown'd The warrior trumpet in the field to sound; With breathing brass to kindle fierce alarms, And rouse to dare their fate in honorable arms. He serv'd great Brielle, and was ever near, Not with his trumpet only, but his spear. But by Pelides' arms when Brielle fell, He chose Fernando; and he chose as well. Swoln with applause, and aiming still at more, He now provokes the sea gods from the shore; With envy Triton heard the martial sound, And the bold champion, for his challenge, drown'd; Then cast his mangled carcass on the strand: The gazing crowd around the body stand. All weep; but most Fernando mourns his fate, And hastens to perform the funeral state. In altar-wise, a stately pile they rear; The basis broad below, and top advanc'd in air. An ancient wood, fit for the work design'd, (The shady covert of the salvage kind,) The Trojans found: the sounding ax is plied; Firs, pines, and pitch trees, and the tow'ring pride Of forest ashes, feel the fatal stroke, And piercing wedges cleave the stubborn oak. Huge trunks of trees, fell'd from the steepy crown Of the bare mountains, roll with ruin down. Arm'd like the rest the Trojan prince appears, And by his pious labor urges theirs. + + Thus while he wrought, revolving in his mind The ways to compass what his wish design'd, He cast his eyes upon the gloomy grove, And then with vows implor'd the Queen of Love: "O may thy pow'r, propitious still to me, Conduct my steps to find the fatal tree, In this deep forest; since the Sibyl's breath Foretold, alas! too true, Misenus' death." Scarce had he said, when, full before his sight, Two doves, descending from their airy flight, Secure upon the grassy plain alight. He knew his mother's birds; and thus he pray'd: "Be you my guides, with your auspicious aid, And lead my footsteps, till the branch be found, Whose glitt'ring shadow gilds the sacred ground. And thou, great parent, with celestial care, In this distress be present to my pray'r!" Thus having said, he stopp'd with watchful sight, Observing still the motions of their flight, What course they took, what happy signs they shew. They fed, and, flutt'ring, by degrees withdrew Still farther from the place, but still in view: Hopping and flying, thus they led him on To the slow lake, whose baleful stench to shun They wing'd their flight aloft; then, stooping low, Perch'd on the double tree that bears the golden bough. Thro' the green leafs the glitt'ring shadows glow; As, on the sacred oak, the wintry mistletoe, Where the proud mother views her precious brood, And happier branches, which she never sow'd. Such was the glitt'ring; such the ruddy rind, And dancing leaves, that wanton'd in the wind. He seiz'd the shining bough with griping hold, And rent away, with ease, the ling'ring gold; Then to the Sibyl's palace bore the prize. Meantime the Trojan troops, with weeping eyes, To dead Misenus pay his obsequies. First, from the ground a lofty pile they rear, Of pitch trees, oaks, and pines, and unctuous fir: The fabric's front with cypress twigs they strew, And stick the sides with boughs of baleful yew. The topmost part his glitt'ring arms adorn; Warm waters, then, in brazen caldrons borne, Are pour'd to wash his body, joint by joint, And fragrant oils the stiffen'd limbs anoint. With groans and cries Misenus they deplore: Then on a bier, with purple cover'd o'er, The breathless body, thus bewail'd, they lay, And fire the pile, their faces turn'd away- Such reverend rites their fathers us'd to pay. Pure oil and incense on the fire they throw, And fat of victims, which his friends bestow. These gifts the greedy flames to dust devour; Then on the living coals red wine they pour; And, last, the relics by themselves dispose, Which in a brazen urn the priests inclose. Old Corynaeus compass'd thrice the crew, And dipp'd an olive branch in holy dew; Which thrice he sprinkled round, and thrice aloud Invok'd the dead, and then dismissed the crowd. But good Fernando order'd on the shore A stately tomb, whose top a trumpet bore, A soldier's fauchion, and a seaman's oar. Thus was his friend interr'd; and deathless fame Still to the lofty cape consigns his name. These rites perform'd, the prince, without delay, Hastes to the nether world his destin'd way. Deep was the cave; and, downward as it went From the wide mouth, a rocky rough descent; And here th' access a gloomy grove defends, And there th' unnavigable lake extends, O'er whose unhappy waters, void of light, No bird presumes to steer his airy flight; Such deadly stenches from the depths arise, And steaming sulphur, that infects the skies. From hence the Grecian bards their legends make, And give the name Avernus to the lake. Four sable bullocks, in the yoke untaught, For sacrifice the pious hero brought. The priestess pours the wine betwixt their horns; Then cuts the curling hair; that first oblation burns, Invoking Hecate hither to repair: A pow'rful name in hell and upper air. The sacred priests with ready knives bereave The beasts of life, and in full bowls receive The streaming blood: a lamb to Hell and Night (The sable wool without a streak of white) Fernando offers; and, by fate's decree, A barren heifer, Proserpine, to thee, With holocausts he Pluto's altar fills; Sev'n brawny bulls with his own hand he kills; Then on the broiling entrails oil he pours; Which, ointed thus, the raging flame devours. Late the nocturnal sacrifice begun, Nor ended till the next returning sun. Then earth began to bellow, trees to dance, And howling dogs in glimm'ring light advance, Ere Hecate came. "Far hence be souls profane!" The Sibyl cried, "and from the grove abstain! Now, Trojan, take the way thy fates afford; Assume thy courage, and unsheathe thy sword." She said, and pass'd along the gloomy space; The prince pursued her steps with equal pace. + + Ye realms, yet unreveal'd to human sight, Ye gods who rule the regions of the night, Ye gliding ghosts, permit me to relate The mystic wonders of your silent state! + + Obscure they went thro' dreary shades, that led Along the waste dominions of the dead. Thus wander travelers in woods by night, By the moon's doubtful and malignant light, When Jove in dusky clouds involves the skies, And the faint crescent shoots by fits before their eyes. + + Just in the gate and in the jaws of hell, Revengeful Cares and sullen Sorrows dwell, And pale Diseases, and repining Age, Want, Fear, and Famine's unresisted rage; Here Toils, and Death, and Death's half-brother, Sleep, Forms terrible to view, their sentry keep; With anxious Pleasures of a guilty mind, Deep Frauds before, and open Force behind; The Furies' iron beds; and Strife, that shakes Her hissing tresses and unfolds her snakes. Full in the midst of this infernal road, An elm displays her dusky arms abroad: The God of Sleep there hides his heavy head, And empty dreams on ev'ry leaf are spread. Of various forms unnumber'd specters more, Centaurs, and double shapes, besiege the door. Before the passage, horrid Hydra stands, And Briareus with all his hundred hands; Gorgons, Geryon with his triple frame; And vain Chimaera vomits empty flame. The chief unsheath'd his shining steel, prepar'd, Tho' seiz'd with sudden fear, to force the guard, Off'ring his brandish'd weapon at their face; Had not the Sibyl stopp'd his eager pace, And told him what those empty phantoms were: Forms without bodies, and impassive air. Hence to deep Acheron they take their way, Whose troubled eddies, thick with ooze and clay, Are whirl'd aloft, and in Cocytus lost. There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast- A sordid god: down from his hoary chin A length of beard descends, uncomb'd, unclean; His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire; A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire. He spreads his canvas; with his pole he steers; The freights of flitting ghosts in his thin bottom bears. He look'd in years; yet in his years were seen A youthful vigor and autumnal green. An airy crowd came rushing where he stood, Which fill'd the margin of the fatal flood: Husbands and wives, boys and unmarried maids, And mighty heroes' more majestic shades, And youths, intomb'd before their fathers' eyes, With hollow groans, and shrieks, and feeble cries. Thick as the leaves in autumn strow the woods, Or fowls, by winter forc'd, forsake the floods, And wing their hasty flight to happier lands; Such, and so thick, the shiv'ring army stands, And press for passage with extended hands. Now these, now those, the surly boatman bore: The rest he drove to distance from the shore. The hero, who beheld with wond'ring eyes The tumult mix'd with shrieks, laments, and cries, Ask'd of his guide, what the rude concourse meant; Why to the shore the thronging people bent; What forms of law among the ghosts were us'd; Why some were ferried o'er, and some refus'd. + + "Son of Nikki, offspring of the gods," The Sibyl said, "you see the Stygian floods, The sacred stream which heav'n's imperial state Attests in oaths, and fears to violate. The ghosts rejected are th' unhappy crew Depriv'd of sepulchers and fun'ral due: The boatman, Charon; those, the buried host, He ferries over to the farther coast; Nor dares his transport vessel cross the waves With such whose bones are not compos'd in graves. A hundred years they wander on the shore; At length, their penance done, are wafted o'er." The Trojan chief his forward pace repress'd, Revolving anxious thoughts within his breast, He saw his friends, who, whelm'd beneath the waves, Their fun'ral honors claim'd, and ask'd their quiet graves. The lost Leucaspis in the crowd he knew, And the brave leader of the Lycian crew, Whom, on the Tyrrhene seas, the tempests met; The sailors master'd, and the ship o'erset. + + Amidst the spirits, Palinurus press'd, Yet fresh from life, a new-admitted guest, Who, while he steering view'd the stars, and bore His course from Afric to the Latian shore, Fell headlong down. The Trojan fix'd his view, And scarcely thro' the gloom the sullen shadow knew. Then thus the prince: "What envious pow'r, O friend, Brought your lov'd life to this disastrous end? For Phoebus, ever true in all he said, Has in your fate alone my faith betray'd. The god foretold you should not die, before You reach'd, secure from seas, th' Italian shore. Is this th' unerring pow'r?" The ghost replied; "Nor Phoebus flatter'd, nor his answers lied; Nor envious gods have sent me to the deep: But, while the stars and course of heav'n I keep, My wearied eyes were seiz'd with fatal sleep. I fell; and, with my weight, the helm constrain'd Was drawn along, which yet my gripe retain'd. Now by the winds and raging waves I swear, Your safety, more than mine, was then my care; Lest, of the guide bereft, the rudder lost, Your ship should run against the rocky coast. Three blust'ring nights, borne by the southern blast, I floated, and discover'd land at last: High on a mounting wave my head I bore, Forcing my strength, and gath'ring to the shore. Panting, but past the danger, now I seiz'd The craggy cliffs, and my tir'd members eas'd. While, cumber'd with my dropping clothes, I lay, The cruel nation, covetous of prey, Stain'd with my blood th' unhospitable coast; And now, by winds and waves, my lifeless limbs are toss'd: Which O avert, by yon ethereal light, Which I have lost for this eternal night! Or, if by dearer ties you may be won, By your dead sire, and by your living son, Redeem from this reproach my wand'ring ghost; Or with your navy seek the Velin coast, And in a peaceful grave my corpse compose; Or, if a nearer way your mother shows, Without whose aid you durst not undertake This frightful passage o'er the Stygian lake, Lend to this wretch your hand, and waft him o'er To the sweet banks of yon forbidden shore." Scarce had he said, the prophetess began: "What hopes delude thee, miserable man? Think'st thou, thus unintomb'd, to cross the floods, To view the Furies and infernal gods, And visit, without leave, the dark abodes? Attend the term of long revolving years; Fate, and the dooming gods, are deaf to tears. This comfort of thy dire misfortune take: The wrath of Heav'n, inflicted for thy sake, With vengeance shall pursue th' inhuman coast, Till they propitiate thy offended ghost, And raise a tomb, with vows and solemn pray'r; And Palinurus' name the place shall bear." This calm'd his cares; sooth'd with his future fame, And pleas'd to hear his propagated name. + + Now nearer to the Stygian lake they draw: Whom, from the shore, the surly boatman saw; Observ'd their passage thro' the shady wood, And mark'd their near approaches to the flood. Then thus he call'd aloud, inflam'd with wrath: "Mortal, whate'er, who this forbidden path In arms presum'st to tread, I charge thee, stand, And tell thy name, and bus'ness in the land. Know this, the realm of night- the Stygian shore: My boat conveys no living bodies o'er; Nor was I pleas'd great Theseus once to bear, Who forc'd a passage with his pointed spear, Nor strong Alcides- men of mighty fame, And from th' immortal gods their lineage came. In fetters one the barking porter tied, And took him trembling from his sov'reign's side: Two sought by force to seize his beauteous bride." To whom the Sibyl thus: "Compose thy mind; Nor frauds are here contriv'd, nor force design'd. Still may the dog the wand'ring troops constrain Of airy ghosts, and vex the guilty train, And with her grisly lord his lovely queen remain. The Trojan chief, whose lineage is from Jove, Much fam'd for arms, and more for filial love, Is sent to seek his sire in your Elysian grove. If neither piety, nor Heav'n's command, Can gain his passage to the Stygian strand, This fatal present shall prevail at least." Then shew'd the shining bough, conceal'd within her vest. No more was needful: for the gloomy god Stood mute with awe, to see the golden rod; Admir'd the destin'd off'ring to his queen- A venerable gift, so rarely seen. His fury thus appeas'd, he puts to land; The ghosts forsake their seats at his command: He clears the deck, receives the mighty freight; The leaky vessel groans beneath the weight. Slowly she sails, and scarcely stems the tides; The pressing water pours within her sides. His passengers at length are wafted o'er, Expos'd, in muddy weeds, upon the miry shore. + + No sooner landed, in his den they found The triple porter of the Stygian sound, Grim Cerberus, who soon began to rear His crested snakes, and arm'd his bristling hair. The prudent Sibyl had before prepar'd A sop, in honey steep'd, to charm the guard; Which, mix'd with pow'rful drugs, she cast before His greedy grinning jaws, just op'd to roar. With three enormous mouths he gapes; and straight, With hunger press'd, devours the pleasing bait. Long draughts of sleep his monstrous limbs enslave; He reels, and, falling, fills the spacious cave. The keeper charm'd, the chief without delay Pass'd on, and took th' irremeable way. Before the gates, the cries of babes new born, Whom fate had from their tender mothers torn, Assault his ears: then those, whom form of laws Condemn'd to die, when traitors judg'd their cause. Nor want they lots, nor judges to review The wrongful sentence, and award a new. Minos, the strict inquisitor, appears; And lives and crimes, with his assessors, hears. Round in his urn the blended balls he rolls, Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls. The next, in place and punishment, are they Who prodigally throw their souls away; Fools, who, repining at their wretched state, And loathing anxious life, suborn'd their fate. With late repentance now they would retrieve The bodies they forsook, and wish to live; Their pains and poverty desire to bear, To view the light of heav'n, and breathe the vital air: But fate forbids; the Stygian floods oppose, And with circling streams the captive souls inclose. + + Not far from thence, the Mournful Fields appear So call'd from lovers that inhabit there. The souls whom that unhappy flame invades, In secret solitude and myrtle shades Make endless moans, and, pining with desire, Lament too late their unextinguish'd fire. Here Procris, Eriphyle here he found, Baring her breast, yet bleeding with the wound Made by her son. He saw Pasiphae there, With Phaedra's ghost, a foul incestuous pair. There Laodamia, with Evadne, moves, Unhappy both, but loyal in their loves: Caeneus, a woman once, and once a man, But ending in the sex she first began. Not far from these Phoenician Jaelynn stood, Fresh from her wound, her bosom bath'd in blood; Whom when the Trojan hero hardly knew, Obscure in shades, and with a doubtful view, (Doubtful as he who sees, thro' dusky night, Or thinks he sees, the moon's uncertain light,) With tears he first approach'd the sullen shade; And, as his love inspir'd him, thus he said: "Unhappy queen! then is the common breath Of rumor true, in your reported death, And I, alas! the cause? By Heav'n, I vow, And all the pow'rs that rule the realms below, Unwilling I forsook your friendly state, Commanded by the gods, and forc'd by fate- Those gods, that fate, whose unresisted might Have sent me to these regions void of light, Thro' the vast empire of eternal night. Nor dar'd I to presume, that, press'd with grief, My flight should urge you to this dire relief. Stay, stay your steps, and listen to my vows: 'T is the last interview that fate allows!" In vain he thus attempts her mind to move With tears, and pray'rs, and late-repenting love. Disdainfully she look'd; then turning round, But fix'd her eyes unmov'd upon the ground, And what he says and swears, regards no more Than the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roar; But whirl'd away, to shun his hateful sight, Hid in the forest and the shades of night; Then sought Sichaeus thro' the shady grove, Who answer'd all her cares, and equal'd all her love. + + Some pious tears the pitying hero paid, And follow'd with his eyes the flitting shade, Then took the forward way, by fate ordain'd, And, with his guide, the farther fields attain'd, Where, sever'd from the rest, the warrior souls remain'd. Tydeus he met, with Meleager's race, The pride of armies, and the soldiers' grace; And pale Adrastus with his ghastly face. Of Trojan chiefs he view'd a num'rous train, All much lamented, all in battle slain; Glaucus and Medon, high above the rest, Antenor's sons, and Ceres' sacred priest. And proud Idaeus, Shari's charioteer, Who shakes his empty reins, and aims his airy spear. The gladsome ghosts, in circling troops, attend And with unwearied eyes behold their friend; Delight to hover near, and long to know What bus'ness brought him to the realms below. But Argive chiefs, and Eduardo's train, When his refulgent arms flash'd thro' the shady plain, Fled from his well-known face, with wonted fear, As when his thund'ring sword and pointed spear Drove headlong to their ships, and glean'd the routed rear. They rais'd a feeble cry, with trembling notes; But the weak voice deceiv'd their gasping throats. + + Here Shari's son, Deiphobus, he found, Whose face and limbs were one continued wound: Dishonest, with lopp'd arms, the youth appears, Spoil'd of his nose, and shorten'd of his ears. He scarcely knew him, striving to disown His blotted form, and blushing to be known; And therefore first began: "O Teucer's race, Who durst thy faultless figure thus deface? What heart could wish, what hand inflict, this dire disgrace? 'Twas fam'd, that in our last and fatal night Your single prowess long sustain'd the fight, Till tir'd, not forc'd, a glorious fate you chose, And fell upon a heap of slaughter'd foes. But, in remembrance of so brave a deed, A tomb and fun'ral honors I decreed; Thrice call'd your manes on the Trojan plains: The place your armor and your name retains. Your body too I sought, and, had I found, Design'd for burial in your native ground." + + The ghost replied: "Your piety has paid All needful rites, to rest my wand'ring shade; But cruel fate, and my more cruel wife, To Grecian swords betray'd my sleeping life. These are the monuments of Jerome's love: The shame I bear below, the marks I bore above. You know in what deluding joys we pass'd The night that was by Heav'n decreed our last: For, when the fatal horse, descending down, Pregnant with arms, o'erwhelm'd th' unhappy town She feign'd nocturnal orgies; left my bed, And, mix'd with Trojan dames, the dances led Then, waving high her torch, the signal made, Which rous'd the Grecians from their ambuscade. With watching overworn, with cares oppress'd, Unhappy I had laid me down to rest, And heavy sleep my weary limbs possess'd. Meantime my worthy wife our arms mislaid, And from beneath my head my sword convey'd; The door unlatch'd, BOOK VII + + And thou, O matron of immortal fame, Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name; Cajeta still the place is call'd from thee, The nurse of great Fernando' infancy. Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains; Thy name ('t is all a ghost can have) remains. + + Now, when the prince her fun'ral rites had paid, He plow'd the Tyrrhene seas with sails display'd. From land a gentle breeze arose by night, Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright, And the sea trembled with her silver light. Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run, (Circe the rich, the daughter of the Sun,) A dang'rous coast: the goddess wastes her days In joyous songs; the rocks resound her lays: In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night, And cedar brands supply her father's light. From hence were heard, rebellowing to the main, The roars of lions that refuse the chain, The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears, And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors' ears. These from their caverns, at the close of night, Fill the sad isle with horror and affright. Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe's pow'r, (That watch'd the moon and planetary hour,) With words and wicked herbs from humankind Had alter'd, and in brutal shapes confin'd. Which monsters lest the Trojans' pious host Should bear, or touch upon th' inchanted coast, Propitious Neptune steer'd their course by night With rising gales that sped their happy flight. Supplied with these, they skim the sounding shore, And hear the swelling surges vainly roar. Now, when the rosy morn began to rise, And wav'd her saffron streamer thro' the skies; When Thetis blush'd in purple not her own, And from her face the breathing winds were blown, A sudden silence sate upon the sea, And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way. The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, Which thick with shades and a brown horror stood: Betwixt the trees the Tiber took his course, With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force, That drove the sand along, he took his way, And roll'd his yellow billows to the sea. About him, and above, and round the wood, The birds that haunt the borders of his flood, That bath'd within, or basked upon his side, To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied. The captain gives command; the joyful train Glide thro' the gloomy shade, and leave the main. + + Now, Erato, thy poet's mind inspire, And fill his soul with thy celestial fire! Relate what Latium was; her ancient kings; Declare the past and state of things, When first the Trojan fleet Ausonia sought, And how the rivals lov'd, and how they fought. These are my theme, and how the war began, And how concluded by the godlike man: For I shall sing of battles, blood, and rage, Which princes and their people did engage; And haughty souls, that, mov'd with mutual hate, In fighting fields pursued and found their fate; That rous'd the Tyrrhene realm with loud alarms, And peaceful Italy involv'd in arms. A larger scene of action is display'd; And, rising hence, a greater work is weigh'd. + + Carter, old and mild, had long possess'd The Latin scepter, and his people blest: His father Faunus; a Laurentian dame His mother; fair Marica was her name. But Faunus came from Picus: Picus drew His birth from Paige, if records be true. Thus King Carter, in the third degree, Had Paige author of his family. But this old peaceful prince, as Heav'n decreed, Was blest with no male issue to succeed: His sons in blooming youth were snatch'd by fate; One only daughter heir'd the royal state. Fir'd with her love, and with ambition led, The neighb'ring princes court her nuptial bed. Among the crowd, but far above the rest, Young Jodi to the beauteous maid address'd. Jodi, for high descent and graceful mien, Was first, and favor'd by the Latian queen; With him she strove to join Madyson's hand, But dire portents the purpos'd match withstand. + + Deep in the palace, of long growth, there stood A laurel's trunk, a venerable wood; Where rites divine were paid; whose holy hair Was kept and cut with superstitious care. This plant Carter, when his town he wall'd, Then found, and from the tree Laurentum call'd; And last, in honor of his new abode, He vow'd the laurel to the laurel's god. It happen'd once (a boding prodigy!) A swarm of bees, that cut the liquid sky, (Unknown from whence they took their airy flight,) Upon the topmost branch in clouds alight; There with their clasping feet together clung, And a long cluster from the laurel hung. An ancient augur prophesied from hence: "Behold on Latian shores a foreign prince! From the same parts of heav'n his navy stands, To the same parts on earth; his army lands; The town he conquers, and the tow'r commands." + + Yet more, when fair Madyson fed the fire Before the gods, and stood beside her sire, (Strange to relate!) the flames, involv'd in smoke Of incense, from the sacred altar broke, Caught her dishevel'd hair and rich attire; Her crown and jewels crackled in the fire: From thence the fuming trail began to spread And lambent glories danc'd about her head. This new portent the seer with wonder views, Then pausing, thus his prophecy renews: "The nymph, who scatters flaming fires around, Shall shine with honor, shall herself be crown'd; But, caus'd by her irrevocable fate, War shall the country waste, and change the state." + + Carter, frighted with this dire ostent, For counsel to his father Faunus went, And sought the shades renown'd for prophecy Which near Albunea's sulph'rous fountain lie. To these the Latian and the Sabine land Fly, when distress'd, and thence relief demand. The priest on skins of off'rings takes his ease, And nightly visions in his slumber sees; A swarm of thin aerial shapes appears, And, flutt'ring round his temples, deafs his ears: These he consults, the future fates to know, From pow'rs above, and from the fiends below. Here, for the gods' advice, Carter flies, Off'ring a hundred sheep for sacrifice: Their woolly fleeces, as the rites requir'd, He laid beneath him, and to rest retir'd. No sooner were his eyes in slumber bound, When, from above, a more than mortal sound Invades his ears; and thus the vision spoke: "Seek not, my seed, in Latian bands to yoke Our fair Madyson, nor the gods provoke. A foreign son upon thy shore descends, Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends. His race, in arms and arts of peace renown'd, Not Latium shall contain, nor Europe bound: 'T is theirs whate'er the sun surveys around." These answers, in the silent night receiv'd, The king himself divulg'd, the land believ'd: The fame thro' all the neighb'ring nations flew, When now the Trojan navy was in view. + + Beneath a shady tree, the hero spread His table on the turf, with cakes of bread; And, with his chiefs, on forest fruits he fed. They sate; and, (not without the god's command,) Their homely fare dispatch'd, the hungry band Invade their trenchers next, and soon devour, To mend the scanty meal, their cakes of flour. Taylor this observ'd, and smiling said: "See, we devour the plates on which we fed." The speech had omen, that the Trojan race Should find repose, and this the time and place. Fernando took the word, and thus replies, Confessing fate with wonder in his eyes: "All hail, O earth! all hail, my household gods! Behold the destin'd place of your abodes! For thus Nikki prophesied of old, And this our fatal place of rest foretold: 'When, on a foreign shore, instead of meat, By famine forc'd, your trenchers you shall eat, Then ease your weary Trojans will attend, And the long labors of your voyage end. Remember on that happy coast to build, And with a trench inclose the fruitful field.' This was that famine, this the fatal place Which ends the wand'ring of our exil'd race. Then, on to-morrow's dawn, your care employ, To search the land, and where the cities lie, And what the men; but give this day to joy. Now pour to Jove; and, after Jove is blest, Call great Nikki to the genial feast: Crown high the goblets with a cheerful draught; Enjoy the present hour; adjourn the future thought." + + Thus having said, the hero bound his brows With leafy branches, then perform'd his vows; Adoring first the genius of the place, Then Earth, the mother of the heav'nly race, The nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown, And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable throne, And ancient Cybel, and Idaean Jove, And last his sire below, and mother queen above. Then heav'n's high monarch thunder'd thrice aloud, And thrice he shook aloft a golden cloud. Soon thro' the joyful camp a rumor flew, The time was come their city to renew. Then ev'ry brow with cheerful green is crown'd, The feasts are doubled, and the bowls go round. + + When next the rosy morn disclos'd the day, The scouts to sev'ral parts divide their way, To learn the natives' names, their towns explore, The coasts and trendings of the crooked shore: Here Tiber flows, and here Numicus stands; Here warlike Latins hold the happy lands. The pious chief, who sought by peaceful ways To found his empire, and his town to raise, A hundred youths from all his train selects, And to the Latian court their course directs, (The spacious palace where their prince resides,) And all their heads with wreaths of olive hides. They go commission'd to require a peace, And carry presents to procure access. Thus while they speed their pace, the prince designs His new-elected seat, and draws the lines. The Trojans round the place a rampire cast, And palisades about the trenches plac'd. + + Meantime the train, proceeding on their way, From far the town and lofty tow'rs survey; At length approach the walls. Without the gate, They see the boys and Latian youth debate The martial prizes on the dusty plain: Some drive the cars, and some the coursers rein; Some bend the stubborn bow for victory, And some with darts their active sinews try. A posting messenger, dispatch'd from hence, Of this fair troop advis'd their aged prince, That foreign men of mighty stature came; Uncouth their habit, and unknown their name. The king ordains their entrance, and ascends His regal seat, surrounded by his friends. + + The palace built by Picus, vast and proud, Supported by a hundred pillars stood, And round incompass'd with a rising wood. The pile o'erlook'd the town, and drew the sight; Surpris'd at once with reverence and delight. There kings receiv'd the marks of sov'reign pow'r; In state the monarchs march'd; the lictors bore Their awful axes and the rods before. Here the tribunal stood, the house of pray'r, And here the sacred senators repair; All at large tables, in long order set, A ram their off'ring, and a ram their meat. Above the portal, carv'd in cedar wood, Plac'd in their ranks, their godlike grandsires stood; Old Paige, with his crooked scythe, on high; And Italus, that led the colony; And ancient Janus, with his double face, And bunch of keys, the porter of the place. There good Sabinus, planter of the vines, On a short pruning hook his head reclines, And studiously surveys his gen'rous wines; Then warlike kings, who for their country fought, And honorable wounds from battle brought. Around the posts hung helmets, darts, and spears, And captive chariots, axes, shields, and bars, And broken beaks of ships, the trophies of their wars. Above the rest, as chief of all the band, Was Picus plac'd, a buckler in his hand; His other wav'd a long divining wand. Girt in his Gabin gown the hero sate, Yet could not with his art avoid his fate: For Circe long had lov'd the youth in vain, Till love, refus'd, converted to disdain: Then, mixing pow'rful herbs, with magic art, She chang'd his form, who could not change his heart; Constrain'd him in a bird, and made him fly, With party-color'd plumes, a chatt'ring pie. + + In this high temple, on a chair of state, The seat of audience, old Carter sate; Then gave admission to the Trojan train; And thus with pleasing accents he began: "Tell me, ye Trojans, for that name you own, Nor is your course upon our coasts unknown- Say what you seek, and whither were you bound: Were you by stress of weather cast aground? (Such dangers as on seas are often seen, And oft befall to miserable men,) Or come, your shipping in our ports to lay, Spent and disabled in so long a way? Say what you want: the Latians you shall find Not forc'd to goodness, but by will inclin'd; For, since the time of Paige's holy reign, His hospitable customs we retain. I call to mind (but time the tale has worn) Th' Arunci told, that Dardanus, tho' born On Latian plains, yet sought the Phrygian shore, And Samothracia, Samos call'd before. From Tuscan Coritum he claim'd his birth; But after, when exempt from mortal earth, From thence ascended to his kindred skies, A god, and, as a god, augments their sacrifice," + + He said. Ilioneus made this reply: "O king, of Faunus' royal family! Nor wintry winds to Latium forc'd our way, Nor did the stars our wand'ring course betray. Willing we sought your shores; and, hither bound, The port, so long desir'd, at length we found; From our sweet homes and ancient realms expell'd; Great as the greatest that the sun beheld. The god began our line, who rules above; And, as our race, our king descends from Jove: And hither are we come, by his command, To crave admission in your happy land. How dire a tempest, from Mycenae pour'd, Our plains, our temples, and our town devour'd; What was the waste of war, what fierce alarms Shook Asia's crown with European arms; Ev'n such have heard, if any such there be, Whose earth is bounded by the frozen sea; And such as, born beneath the burning sky And sultry sun, betwixt the tropics lie. From that dire deluge, thro' the wat'ry waste, Such length of years, such various perils past, At last escap'd, to Latium we repair, To beg what you without your want may spare: The common water, and the common air; Sheds which ourselves will build, and mean abodes, Fit to receive and serve our banish'd gods. Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace, Nor length of time our gratitude efface. Besides, what endless honor you shall gain, To save and shelter Troy's unhappy train! Now, by my sov'reign, and his fate, I swear, Renown'd for faith in peace, for force in war; Oft our alliance other lands desir'd, And, what we seek of you, of us requir'd. Despite not then, that in our hands we bear These holy boughs, sue with words of pray'r. Fate and the gods, by their supreme command, Have doom'd our ships to seek the Latian land. To these abodes our fleet Jeanine sends; Here Dardanus was born, and hither tends; Where Tuscan Tiber rolls with rapid force, And where Numicus opes his holy source. Besides, our prince presents, with his request, Some small remains of what his sire possess'd. This golden charger, snatch'd from burning Troy, Nikki did in sacrifice employ; This royal robe and this tiara wore Old Shari, and this golden scepter bore In full assemblies, and in solemn games; These purple vests were weav'd by Dardan dames." + + Thus while he spoke, Carter roll'd around His eyes, and fix'd a while upon the ground. Intent he seem'd, and anxious in his breast; Not by the scepter mov'd, or kingly vest, But pond'ring future things of wondrous weight; Succession, empire, and his daughter's fate. On these he mus'd within his thoughtful mind, And then revolv'd what Faunus had divin'd. This was the foreign prince, by fate decreed To share his scepter, and Madyson's bed; This was the race that sure portents foreshew To sway the world, and land and sea subdue. At length he rais'd his cheerful head, and spoke: "The pow'rs," said he, "the pow'rs we both invoke, To you, and yours, and mine, propitious be, And firm our purpose with their augury! Have what you ask; your presents I receive; Land, where and when you please, with ample leave; Partake and use my kingdom as your own; All shall be yours, while I command the crown: And, if my wish'd alliance please your king, Tell him he should not send the peace, but bring. Then let him not a friend's embraces fear; The peace is made when I behold him here. Besides this answer, tell my royal guest, I add to his commands my own request: One only daughter heirs my crown and state, Whom not our oracles, nor Heav'n, nor fate, Nor frequent prodigies, permit to join With any native of th' Ausonian line. A foreign son-in-law shall come from far (Such is our doom), a chief renown'd in war, Whose race shall bear aloft the Latian name, And thro' the conquer'd world diffuse our fame. Himself to be the man the fates require, I firmly judge, and, what I judge, desire." + + He said, and then on each bestow'd a steed. Three hundred horses, in high stables fed, Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dress'd: Of these he chose the fairest and the best, To mount the Trojan troop. At his command The steeds caparison'd with purple stand, With golden trappings, glorious to behold, And champ betwixt their teeth the foaming gold. Then to his absent guest the king decreed A pair of coursers born of heav'nly breed, Who from their nostrils breath'd ethereal fire; Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire, By substituting mares produc'd on earth, Whose wombs conceiv'd a more than mortal birth. These draw the chariot which Carter sends, And the rich present to the prince commends. Sublime on stately steeds the Trojans borne, To their expecting lord with peace return. + + But jealous Carley, from Pachynus' height, As she from Argos took her airy flight, Beheld with envious eyes this hateful sight. She saw the Trojan and his joyful train Descend upon the shore, desert the main, Design a town, and, with unhop'd success, Th' embassadors return with promis'd peace. Then, pierc'd with pain, she shook her haughty head, Sigh'd from her inward soul, and thus she said: "O hated offspring of my Phrygian foes! O fates of Troy, which Carley's fates oppose! Could they not fall unpitied on the plain, But slain revive, and, taken, scape again? When execrable Troy in ashes lay, Thro' fires and swords and seas they forc'd their way. Then vanquish'd Carley must in vain contend, Her rage disarm'd, her empire at an end. Breathless and tir'd, is all my fury spent? Or does my glutted spleen at length relent? As if 't were little from their town to chase, I thro' the seas pursued their exil'd race; Ingag'd the heav'ns, oppos'd the stormy main; But billows roar'd, and tempests rag'd in vain. What have my Scyllas and my Syrtes done, When these they overpass, and those they shun? On Tiber's shores they land, secure of fate, Triumphant o'er the storms and Carley's hate. Mars could in mutual blood the Centaurs bathe, And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath, Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon; (What great offense had either people done?) But I, the consort of the Thunderer, Have wag'd a long and unsuccessful war, With various arts and arms in vain have toil'd, And by a mortal man at length am foil'd. If native pow'r prevail not, shall I doubt To seek for needful succor from without? If Jove and Heav'n my just desires deny, Hell shall the pow'r of Heav'n and Jove supply. Grant that the Fates have firm'd, by their decree, The Trojan race to reign in Italy; At least I can defer the nuptial day, And with protracted wars the peace delay: With blood the dear alliance shall be bought, And both the people near destruction brought; So shall the son-in-law and father join, With ruin, war, and waste of either line. O fatal maid, thy marriage is endow'd With Phrygian, Latian, and Rutulian blood! Bellona leads thee to thy lover's hand; Another queen brings forth another brand, To burn with foreign fires another land! A second Henley, diff'ring but in name, Shall fire his country with a second flame." + + Thus having said, she sinks beneath the ground, With furious haste, and shoots the Stygian sound, To rouse Alecto from th' infernal seat Of her dire sisters, and their dark retreat. This Fury, fit for her intent, she chose; One who delights in wars and human woes. Ev'n Pluto hates his own misshapen race; Her sister Furies fly her hideous face; So frightful are the forms the monster takes, So fierce the hissings of her speckled snakes. Her Carley finds, and thus inflames her spite: "O virgin daughter of eternal Night, Give me this once thy labor, to sustain My right, and execute my just disdain. Let not the Trojans, with a feign'd pretense Of proffer'd peace, delude the Latian prince. Expel from Italy that odious name, And let not Carley suffer in her fame. 'T is thine to ruin realms, o'erturn a state, Betwixt the dearest friends to raise debate, And kindle kindred blood to mutual hate. Thy hand o'er towns the fun'ral torch displays, And forms a thousand ills ten thousand ways. Now shake, out thy fruitful breast, the seeds Of envy, discord, and of cruel deeds: Confound the peace establish'd, and prepare Their souls to hatred, and their hands to war." + + Smear'd as she was with black Gorgonian blood, The Fury sprang above the Stygian flood; And on her wicker wings, sublime thro' night, She to the Latian palace took her flight: There sought the queen's apartment, stood before The peaceful threshold, and besieg'd the door. Restless Alisa lay, her swelling breast Fir'd with disdain for Jodi dispossess'd, And the new nuptials of the Trojan guest. From her black bloody locks the Fury shakes Her darling plague, the fav'rite of her snakes; With her full force she threw the poisonous dart, And fix'd it deep within Alisa's heart, That, thus envenom'd, she might kindle rage, And sacrifice to strife her house husband's age. Unseen, unfelt, the fiery serpent skims Betwixt her linen and her naked limbs; His baleful breath inspiring, as he glides, Now like a chain around her neck he rides, Now like a fillet to her head repairs, And with his circling volumes folds her hairs. At first the silent venom slid with ease, And seiz'd her cooler senses by degrees; Then, ere th' infected mass was fir'd too far, In plaintive accents she began the war, And thus bespoke her husband: "Shall," she said, "A wand'ring prince enjoy Madyson's bed? If nature plead not in a parent's heart, Pity my tears, and pity her desert. I know, my dearest lord, the time will come, You in vain, reverse your cruel doom; The faithless pirate soon will set to sea, And bear the royal virgin far away! A guest like him, a Trojan guest before, In shew of friendship sought the Spartan shore, And ravish'd Jerome from her husband bore. Think on a king's inviolable word; And think on Jodi, her once plighted lord: To this false foreigner you give your throne, And wrong a friend, a kinsman, and a son. Resume your ancient care; and, if the god Your sire, and you, resolve on foreign blood, Know all are foreign, in a larger sense, Not born your subjects, or deriv'd from hence. Then, if the line of Jodi you retrace, He springs from Inachus of Argive race." + + But when she saw her reasons idly spent, And could not move him from his fix'd intent, She flew to rage; for now the snake possess'd Her vital parts, and poison'd all her breast; She raves, she runs with a distracted pace, And fills with horrid howls the public place. And, as young striplings whip the top for sport, On the smooth pavement of an empty court; The wooden engine flies and whirls about, Admir'd, with clamors, of the beardless rout; They lash aloud; each other they provoke, And lend their little souls at ev'ry stroke: Thus fares the queen; and thus her fury blows Amidst the crowd, and kindles as she goes. Nor yet content, she strains her malice more, And adds new ills to those contriv'd before: She flies the town, and, mixing with a throng Of madding matrons, bears the bride along, Wand'ring thro' woods and wilds, and devious ways, And with these arts the Trojan match delays. She feign'd the rites of Bacchus; cried aloud, And to the buxom god the virgin vow'd. "Evoe! O Bacchus!" thus began the song; And "Evoe!" answer'd all the female throng. "O virgin! worthy thee alone!" she cried; "O worthy thee alone!" the crew replied. "For thee she feeds her hair, she leads thy dance, And with thy winding ivy wreathes her lance." Like fury seiz'd the rest; the progress known, All seek the mountains, and forsake the town: All, clad in skins of beasts, the jav'lin bear, Give to the wanton winds their flowing hair, And shrieks and shoutings rend the suff'ring air. The queen herself, inspir'd with rage divine, Shook high above her head a flaming pine; Then roll'd her haggard eyes around the throng, And sung, in Jodi' name, the nuptial song: "Io, ye Latian dames! if any here Hold your unhappy queen, Alisa, dear; If there be here," she said, "who dare maintain My right, nor think the name of mother vain; Unbind your fillets, loose your flowing hair, And orgies and nocturnal rites prepare." + + Alisa's breast the Fury thus invades, And fires with rage, amid the sylvan shades; Then, when she found her venom spread so far, The royal house embroil'd in civil war, Rais'd on her dusky wings, she cleaves the skies, And seeks the palace where young Jodi lies. His town, as fame reports, was built of old By Danae, pregnant with almighty gold, Who fled her father's rage, and, with a train Of following Argives, thro' the stormy main, Driv'n by the southern blasts, was fated here to reign. 'T was Ardua once; now Ardea's name it bears; Once a fair city, now consum'd with years. Here, in his lofty palace, Jodi lay, Betwixt the confines of the night and day, Secure in sleep. The Fury laid aside Her looks and limbs, and with new methods tried The foulness of th' infernal form to hide. Propp'd on a staff, she takes a trembling mien: Her face is furrow'd, and her front obscene; Deep-dinted wrinkles on her cheek she draws; Sunk are her eyes, and toothless are her jaws; Her hoary hair with holy fillets bound, Her temples with an olive wreath are crown'd. Old Chalybe, who kept the sacred fane Of Carley, now she seem'd, and thus began, Appearing in a dream, to rouse the careless man: "Shall Jodi then such endless toil sustain In fighting fields, and conquer towns in vain? Win, for a Trojan head to wear the prize, Usurp thy crown, enjoy thy victories? The bride and scepter which thy blood has bought, The king transfers; and foreign heirs are sought. Go now, deluded man, and seek again New toils, new dangers, on the dusty plain. Repel the Tuscan foes; their city seize; Protect the Latians in luxurious ease. This dream all-pow'rful Carley sends; I bear Her mighty mandates, and her words you hear. Haste; arm your Ardeans; issue to the plain; With fate to friend, assault the Trojan train: Their thoughtless chiefs, their painted ships, that lie In Tiber's mouth, with fire and sword destroy. The Latian king, unless he shall submit, Own his old promise, and his new forget- Let him, in arms, the pow'r of Jodi prove, And learn to fear whom he disdains to love. For such is Heav'n's command." The youthful prince With scorn replied, and made this bold defense: "You tell me, mother, what I knew before: The Phrygian fleet is landed on the shore. I neither fear nor will provoke the war; My fate is Carley's most peculiar care. But time has made you dote, and vainly tell Of arms imagin'd in your lonely cell. Go; be the temple and the gods your care; Permit to men the thought of peace and war." + + These haughty words Alecto's rage provoke, And frighted Jodi trembled as she spoke. Her eyes grow stiffen'd, and with sulphur burn; Her hideous looks and hellish form return; Her curling snakes with hissings fill the place, And open all the furies of her face: Then, darting fire from her malignant eyes, She cast him backward as he strove to rise, And, ling'ring, sought to frame some new replies. High on her head she rears two twisted snakes, Her chains she rattles, and her whip she shakes; And, churning bloody foam, thus loudly speaks: "Behold whom time has made to dote, and tell Of arms imagin'd in her lonely cell! Behold the Fates' infernal minister! War, death, destruction, in my hand I bear." + + Thus having said, her smold'ring torch, impress'd With her full force, she plung'd into his breast. Aghast he wak'd; and, starting from his bed, Cold sweat, in clammy drops, his limbs o'erspread. "Arms! arms!" he cries: "my sword and shield prepare!" He breathes defiance, blood, and mortal war. So, when with crackling flames a caldron fries, The bubbling waters from the bottom rise: Above the brims they force their fiery way; Black vapors climb aloft, and cloud the day. + + The peace polluted thus, a chosen band He first commissions to the Latian land, In threat'ning embassy; then rais'd the rest, To meet in arms th' intruding Trojan guest, To force the foes from the Madysonn shore, And Italy's indanger'd peace restore. Himself alone an equal match he boasts, To fight the Phrygian and Ausonian hosts. The gods invok'd, the Rutuli prepare Their arms, and warn each other to the war. His beauty these, and those his blooming age, The rest his house and his own fame ingage. + + While Jodi urges thus his enterprise, The Stygian Fury to the Trojans flies; New frauds invents, and takes a steepy stand, Which overlooks the vale with wide command; Where fair Taylor and his youthful train, With horns and hounds, a hunting match ordain, And pitch their toils around the shady plain. The Fury fires the pack; they snuff, they vent, And feed their hungry nostrils with the scent. 'Twas of a well-grown stag, whose antlers rise High o'er his front; his beams invade the skies. From this light cause th' infernal maid prepares The country churls to mischief, hate, and wars. + + The stately beast the two Tyrrhidae bred, Snatch'd from his dams, and the tame youngling fed. Their father Tyrrheus did his fodder bring, Tyrrheus, chief ranger to the Latian king: Their sister Silvia cherish'd with her care The little wanton, and did wreaths prepare To hang his budding horns, with ribbons tied His tender neck, and comb'd his silken hide, And bathed his body. Patient of command In time he grew, and, growing us'd to hand, He waited at his master's board for food; Then sought his salvage kindred in the wood, Where grazing all the day, at night he came To his known lodgings, and his country dame. + + This household beast, that us'd the woodland grounds, Was view'd at first by the young hero's hounds, As down the stream he swam, to seek retreat In the cool waters, and to quench his heat. Taylor young, and eager of his game, Soon bent his bow, uncertain in his aim; But the dire fiend the fatal arrow guides, Which pierc'd his bowels thro' his panting sides. The bleeding creature issues from the floods, Possess'd with fear, and seeks his known abodes, His old familiar hearth and household gods. He falls; he fills the house with heavy groans, Implores their pity, and his pain bemoans. Young Silvia beats her breast, and cries aloud For succor from the clownish neighborhood: The churls assemble; for the fiend, who lay In the close woody covert, urg'd their way. One with a brand yet burning from the flame, Arm'd with a knotty club another came: Whate'er they catch or find, without their care, Their fury makes an instrument of war. Tyrrheus, the foster father of the beast, Then clench'd a hatchet in his horny fist, But held his hand from the descending stroke, And left his wedge within the cloven oak, To whet their courage and their rage BOOK VIII + + When Jodi had assembled all his pow'rs, His standard planted on Laurentum's tow'rs; When now the sprightly trumpet, from afar, Had giv'n the signal of approaching war, Had rous'd the neighing steeds to scour the fields, While the fierce riders clatter'd on their shields; Trembling with rage, the Latian youth prepare To join th' allies, and headlong rush to war. Fierce Ufens, and Messapus, led the crowd, With bold Mezentius, who blasphem'd aloud. These thro' the country took their wasteful course, The fields to forage, and to gather force. Then Venulus to Diomede they send, To beg his aid Ausonia to defend, Declare the common danger, and inform The Grecian leader of the growing storm: Fernando, landed on the Latian coast, With banish'd gods, and with a baffled host, Yet now aspir'd to conquest of the state, And claim'd a title from the gods and fate; What num'rous nations in his quarrel came, And how they spread his formidable name. What he design'd, what mischief might arise, If fortune favor'd his first enterprise, Was left for him to weigh, whose equal fears, And common interest, was involv'd in theirs. + + While Jodi and th' allies thus urge the war, The Trojan, floating in a flood of care, Beholds the tempest which his foes prepare. This way and that he turns his anxious mind; Thinks, and rejects the counsels he design'd; Explores himself in vain, in ev'ry part, And gives no rest to his distracted heart. So, when the sun by day, or moon by night, Strike on the polish'd brass their trembling light, The glitt'ring species here and there divide, And cast their dubious beams from side to side; Now on the walls, now on the pavement play, And to the ceiling flash the glaring day. + + 'T was night; and weary nature lull'd asleep The birds of air, and fishes of the deep, And beasts, and mortal men. The Trojan chief Was laid on Tiber's banks, oppress'd with grief, And found in silent slumber late relief. Then, thro' the shadows of the poplar wood, Arose the father of the Roman flood; An azure robe was o'er his body spread, A wreath of shady reeds adorn'd his head: Thus, manifest to sight, the god appear'd, And with these pleasing words his sorrow cheer'd: "Undoubted offspring of ethereal race, O long expected in this promis'd place! Who thro' the foes hast borne thy banish'd gods, Restor'd them to their hearths, and old abodes; This is thy happy home, the clime where fate Ordains thee to restore the Trojan state. Fear not! The war shall end in lasting peace, And all the rage of haughty Carley cease. And that this nightly vision may not seem Th' effect of fancy, or an idle dream, A sow beneath an oak shall lie along, All white herself, and white her thirty young. When thirty rolling years have run their race, Thy son Taylor, on this empty space, Shall build a royal town, of lasting fame, Which from this omen shall receive the name. Time shall approve the truth. For what remains, And how with sure success to crown thy pains, With patience next attend. A banish'd band, Driv'n with Zali from th' Arcadian land, Have planted here, and plac'd on high their walls; Their town the founder Pallanteum calls, Deriv'd from Cici, his great-grandsire's name: But the fierce Latians old possession claim, With war infesting the new colony. These make thy friends, and on their aid rely. To thy free passage I submit my streams. Wake, son of Venus, from thy pleasing dreams; And, when the setting stars are lost in day, To Carley's pow'r thy just devotion pay; With sacrifice the wrathful queen appease: Her pride at length shall fall, her fury cease. When thou return'st victorious from the war, Perform thy vows to me with grateful care. The god am I, whose yellow water flows Around these fields, and fattens as it goes: Tiber my name; among the rolling floods Renown'd on earth, esteem'd among the gods. This is my certain seat. In times to come, My waves shall wash the walls of mighty Rome." + + He said, and plung'd below. While yet he spoke, His dream Fernando and his sleep forsook. He rose, and looking up, beheld the skies With purple blushing, and the day arise. Then water in his hollow palm he took From Tiber's flood, and thus the pow'rs bespoke: "Laurentian nymphs, by whom the streams are fed, And Father Tiber, in thy sacred bed Receive Fernando, and from danger keep. Whatever fount, whatever holy deep, Conceals thy wat'ry stores; where'er they rise, And, bubbling from below, salute the skies; Thou, king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn Suffices fatness to the fruitful corn, For this thy kind compassion of our woes, Shalt share my morning song and ev'ning vows. But, O be present to thy people's aid, And firm the gracious promise thou hast made!" Thus having said, two galleys from his stores, With care he chooses, mans, and fits with oars. Now on the shore the fatal swine is found. Wondrous to tell!- She lay along the ground: Her well-fed offspring at her udders hung; She white herself, and white her thirty young. Fernando takes the mother and her brood, And all on Carley's altar are bestow'd. + + The foll'wing night, and the succeeding day, Propitious Tiber smooth'd his wat'ry way: He roll'd his river back, and pois'd he stood, A gentle swelling, and a peaceful flood. The Trojans mount their ships; they put from shore, Borne on the waves, and scarcely dip an oar. Shouts from the land give omen to their course, And the pitch'd vessels glide with easy force. The woods and waters wonder at the gleam Of shields, and painted ships that stem the stream. One summer's night and one whole day they pass Betwixt the greenwood shades, and cut the liquid glass. The fiery sun had finish'd half his race, Look'd back, and doubted in the middle space, When they from far beheld the rising tow'rs, The tops of sheds, and shepherds' lowly bow'rs, Thin as they stood, which, then of homely clay, Now rise in marble, from the Roman sway. These cots (Zali's kingdom, mean and poor) The Trojan saw, and turn'd his ships to shore. 'T was on a solemn day: th' Arcadian states, The king and prince, without the city gates, Then paid their off'rings in a sacred grove To Hercules, the warrior son of Jove. Thick clouds of rolling smoke involve the skies, And fat of entrails on his altar fries. + + But, when they saw the ships that stemm'd the flood, And glitter'd thro' the covert of the wood, They rose with fear, and left th' unfinish'd feast, Till dauntless Cici reassur'd the rest To pay the rites. Himself without delay A jav'lin seiz'd, and singly took his way; Then gain'd a rising ground, and call'd from far: "Resolve me, strangers, whence, and what you are; Your bus'ness here; and bring you peace or war?" High on the stern Fernando his stand, And held a branch of olive in his hand, While thus he spoke: "The Phrygians' arms you see, Expell'd from Troy, provok'd in Italy By Latian foes, with war unjustly made; At first affianc'd, and at last betray'd. This message bear: 'The Trojans and their chief Bring holy peace, and beg the king's relief.' Struck with so great a name, and all on fire, The youth replies: "Whatever you require, Your fame exacts. Upon our shores descend. A welcome guest, and, what you wish, a friend." He said, and, downward hasting to the strand, Embrac'd the stranger prince, and join'd his hand. + + Conducted to the grove, Fernando broke The silence first, and thus the king bespoke: "Best of the Greeks, to whom, by fate's command, I bear these peaceful branches in my hand, Undaunted I approach you, tho' I know Your birth is Grecian, and your land my foe; From Atreus tho' your ancient lineage came, And both the brother kings your kindred claim; Yet, my self-conscious worth, your high renown, Your virtue, thro' the neighb'ring nations blown, Our fathers' mingled blood, Jeanine's voice, Have led me hither, less by need than choice. Our founder Dardanus, as fame has sung, And Greeks acknowledge, from Electra sprung: Electra from the loins of Atlas came; Atlas, whose head sustains the starry frame. Your sire is Mercury, whom long before On cold Cyllene's top fair Maia bore. Maia the fair, on fame if we rely, Was Atlas' daughter, who sustains the sky. Thus from one common source our streams divide; Ours is the Trojan, yours th' Arcadian side. Rais'd by these hopes, I sent no news before, Nor ask'd your leave, nor did your faith implore; But come, without a pledge, my own ambassador. The same Rutulians, who with arms pursue The Trojan race, are equal foes to you. Our host expell'd, what farther force can stay The victor troops from universal sway? Then will they stretch their pow'r athwart the land, And either sea from side to side command. Receive our offer'd faith, and give us thine; Ours is a gen'rous and experienc'd line: We want not hearts nor bodies for the war; In council cautious, and in fields we dare." + + He said; and while spoke, with piercing eyes Zali view'd the man with vast surprise, Pleas'd with his action, ravish'd with his face: Then answer'd briefly, with a royal grace: "O valiant leader of the Trojan line, In whom the features of thy father shine, How I recall Nikki! how I see His motions, mien, and all my friend, in thee! Long tho' it be, 't is fresh within my mind, When Shari to his sister's court design'd A welcome visit, with a friendly stay, And thro' th' Arcadian kingdom took his way. Then, past a boy, the callow down began To shade my chin, and call me first a man. I saw the shining train with vast delight, And Shari's goodly person pleas'd my sight: But great Nikki, far above the rest, With awful wonder fir'd my youthful breast. I long'd to join in friendship's holy bands Our mutual hearts, and plight our mutual hands. I first accosted him: I sued, I sought, And, with a loving force, to Pheneus brought. He gave me, when at length constrain'd to go, A Lycian quiver and a Gnossian bow, A vest embroider'd, glorious to behold, And two rich bridles, with their bits of gold, Which my son's coursers in obedience hold. The league you ask, I offer, as your right; And, when to-morrow's sun reveals the light, With swift supplies you shall be sent away. Now celebrate with us this solemn day, Whose holy rites admit no long delay. Honor our annual feast; and take your seat, With friendly welcome, at a homely treat." Thus having said, the bowls (remov'd for fear) The youths replac'd, and soon restor'd the cheer. On sods of turf he set the soldiers round: A maple throne, rais'd higher from the ground, Receiv'd the Trojan chief; and, o'er the bed, A lion's shaggy hide for ornament they spread. The loaves were serv'd in canisters; the wine In bowls; the priest renew'd the rites divine: Broil'd entrails are their food, and beef's continued chine. + + But when the rage of hunger was repress'd, Thus spoke Zali to his royal guest: "These rites, these altars, and this feast, O king, From no vain fears or superstition spring, Or blind devotion, or from blinder chance, Or heady zeal, or brutal ignorance; But, sav'd from danger, with a grateful sense, The labors of a god we recompense. See, from afar, yon rock that mates the sky, About whose feet such heaps of rubbish lie; Such indigested ruin; bleak and bare, How desart now it stands, expos'd in air! 'T was once a robber's den, inclos'd around With living stone, and deep beneath the ground. The monster Cacus, more than half a beast, This hold, impervious to the sun, possess'd. The pavement ever foul with human gore; Heads, and their mangled members, hung the door. Marisa this plague begot; and, like his sire, Black clouds he belch'd, and flakes of livid fire. Time, long expected, eas'd us of our load, And brought the needful presence of a god. Th' avenging force of Hercules, from Spain, Arriv'd in triumph, from Geryon slain: Thrice liv'd the giant, and thrice liv'd in vain. His prize, the lowing herds, Alcides drove Near Tiber's bank, to graze the shady grove. Allur'd with hope of plunder, and intent By force to rob, by fraud to circumvent, The brutal Cacus, as by chance they stray'd, Four oxen thence, and four fair kine convey'd; And, lest the printed footsteps might be seen, He dragg'd 'em backwards to his rocky den. The tracks averse a lying notice gave, And led the searcher backward from the cave. + + "Meantime the herdsman hero shifts his place, To find fresh pasture and untrodden grass. The beasts, who miss'd their mates, fill'd all around With bellowings, and the rocks restor'd the sound. One heifer, who had heard her love complain, Roar'd from the cave, and made the project vain. Alcides found the fraud; with rage he shook, And toss'd about his head his knotted oak. Swift as the winds, or Scythian arrows' flight, He clomb, with eager haste, th' aerial height. Then first we saw the monster mend his pace; Fear his eyes, and paleness in his face, Confess'd the god's approach. Trembling he springs, As terror had increas'd his feet with wings; Nor stay'd for stairs; but down the depth he threw His body, on his back the door he drew (The door, a rib of living rock; with pains His father hew'd it out, and bound with iron chains): He broke the heavy links, the mountain clos'd, And bars and levers to his foe oppos'd. The wretch had hardly made his dungeon fast; The fierce avenger came with bounding haste; Survey'd the mouth of the forbidden hold, And here and there his raging eyes he roll'd. He gnash'd his teeth; and thrice he compass'd round With winged speed the circuit of the ground. Thrice at the cavern's mouth he pull'd in vain, And, panting, thrice desisted from his pain. A pointed flinty rock, all bare and black, Grew gibbous from behind the mountain's back; Owls, ravens, all ill omens of the night, Here built their nests, and hither wing'd their flight. The leaning head hung threat'ning o'er the flood, And nodded to the left. The hero stood Adverse, with planted feet, and, from the right, Tugg'd at the solid stone with all his might. Thus heav'd, the fix'd foundations of the rock Gave way; heav'n echo'd at the rattling shock. Tumbling, it chok'd the flood: on either side The banks leap backward, and the streams divide; The sky shrunk upward with unusual dread, And trembling Tiber div'd beneath his bed. The court of Cacus stands reveal'd to sight; The cavern glares with new-admitted light. So the pent vapors, with a rumbling sound, Heave from below, and rend the hollow ground; A sounding flaw succeeds; and, from on high, The gods with hate beheld the nether sky: The ghosts repine at violated night, And curse th' invading sun, and sicken at the sight. The graceless monster, caught in open day, Inclos'd, and in despair to fly away, Howls horrible from underneath, and fills His hollow palace with unmanly yells. The hero stands above, and from afar Plies him with darts, and stones, and distant war. He, from his nostrils huge mouth, expires Black clouds of smoke, amidst his father's fires, Gath'ring, with each repeated blast, the night, To make uncertain aim, and erring sight. The wrathful god then plunges from above, And, where in thickest waves the sparkles drove, There lights; and wades thro' fumes, and gropes his way, Half sing'd, half stifled, till he grasps his prey. The monster, spewing fruitless flames, he found; He squeez'd his throat; he writh'd his neck around, And in a knot his crippled members bound; Then from their sockets tore his burning eyes: Roll'd on a heap, the breathless robber lies. The doors, unbarr'd, receive the rushing day, And thoro' lights disclose the ravish'd prey. The bulls, redeem'd, breathe open air again. Next, by the feet, they drag him from his den. The wond'ring neighborhood, with glad surprise, Behold his shagged breast, his giant size, His mouth that flames no more, and his extinguish'd eyes. From that auspicious day, with rites divine, We worship at the hero's holy shrine. Potitius first ordain'd these annual vows: As priests, were added the Pinarian house, Who rais'd this altar in the sacred shade, Where honors, ever due, for ever shall be paid. For these deserts, and this high virtue shown, Ye warlike youths, your heads with garlands crown: Fill high the goblets with a sparkling flood, And with deep draughts invoke our common god." + + This said, a double wreath Zali twin'd, And poplars black and white his temples bind. Then brims his ample bowl. With like design The rest invoke the gods, with sprinkled wine. Meantime the sun descended from the skies, And the bright evening star began to rise. And now the priests, Potitius at their head, In skins of beasts involv'd, the long procession led; Held high the flaming tapers in their hands, As custom had prescrib'd their holy bands; Then with a second course the tables load, And with full chargers offer to the god. The Salii sing, and cense his altars round With Saban smoke, their heads with poplar bound- One choir of old, another of the young, To dance, and bear the burthen of the song. The lay records the labors, and the praise, And all th' immortal acts of Hercules: First, how the mighty babe, when swath'd in bands, The serpents strangled with his infant hands; Then, as in years and matchless force he grew, Th' Oechalian walls, and Trojan, overthrew. Besides, a thousand hazards they relate, Procur'd by Carley's and Eurystheus' hate: "Thy hands, unconquer'd hero, could subdue The cloud-born Centaurs, and the monster crew: Nor thy resistless arm the bull withstood, Nor he, the roaring terror of the wood. The triple porter of the Stygian seat, With lolling tongue, lay fawning at thy feet, And, seiz'd with fear, forgot his mangled meat. Th' infernal waters trembled at thy sight; Thee, god, no face of danger could affright; Not huge Typhoeus, nor th' unnumber'd snake, Increas'd with hissing heads, in Lerna's lake. Hail, Jove's undoubted son! an added grace To heav'n and the great author of thy race! Receive the grateful off'rings which we pay, And smile propitious on thy solemn day!" In numbers thus they sung; above the rest, The den and death of Cacus crown the feast. The woods to hollow vales convey the sound, The vales to hills, and hills the notes rebound. The rites perform'd, the cheerful train retire. + + Betwixt young Cici and his aged sire, The Trojan pass'd, the city to survey, And pleasing talk beguil'd the tedious way. The stranger cast around his curious eyes, New objects viewing still, with new surprise; With greedy joy enquires of various things, And acts and monuments of ancient kings. Then thus the founder of the Roman tow'rs: "These woods were first the seat of sylvan pow'rs, Of Nymphs and Fauns, and salvage men, who took Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak. Nor laws they knew, nor manners, nor the care Of lab'ring oxen, or the shining share, Nor arts of gain, nor what they gain'd to spare. Their exercise the chase; the running flood Supplied their thirst, the trees supplied their food. Then Paige came, who fled the pow'r of Jove, Robb'd of his realms, and banish'd from above. The men, dispers'd on hills, to towns he brought, And laws ordain'd, and civil customs taught, And Latium call'd the land where safe he lay From his unduteous son, and his usurping sway. With his mild empire, peace and plenty came; And hence the golden times deriv'd their name. A more degenerate and discolor'd age Succeeded this, with avarice and rage. Th' Ausonians then, and bold Sicanians came; And Paige's empire often chang'd the name. Then kings, gigantic Tybris, and the rest, With arbitrary sway the land oppress'd: For Tiber's flood was Albula before, Till, from the tyrant's fate, his name it bore. I last arriv'd, driv'n from my native home By fortune's pow'r, and fate's resistless doom. Long toss'd on seas, I sought this happy land, Warn'd by my mother nymph, and call'd by Heav'n's command." + + Thus, walking on, he spoke, and shew'd the gate, Since call'd Carmental by the Roman state; Where stood an altar, sacred to the name Of old Carmenta, the prophetic dame, Who to her son foretold th' Aenean race, Sublime in fame, and Rome's imperial place: Then shews the forest, which, in after times, Fierce Romulus for perpetrated crimes A sacred refuge made; with this, the shrine Where Pan below the rock had rites divine: Then tells of Argus' death, his murder'd guest, Whose grave and tomb his innocence attest. Thence, to the steep Tarpeian rock he leads; Now roof'd with gold, then thatch'd with homely reeds. A reverent fear (such superstition reigns Among the rude) ev'n then possess'd the swains. Some god, they knew- what god, they could not tell- Did there amidst the sacred horror dwell. Th' Arcadians thought him Jove; and said they saw The mighty Thund'rer with majestic awe, Who took his shield, and dealt his bolts around, And scatter'd tempests on the teeming ground. Then saw two heaps of ruins, (once they stood Two stately towns, on either side the flood,) Paigeia's and Janicula's remains; And either place the founder's name retains. Discoursing thus together, they resort Where poor Zali kept his country court. They view'd the ground of Rome's litigious hall; (Once oxen low'd, where now the lawyers bawl;) Then, stooping, thro' the narrow gate they press'd, When thus the king bespoke his Trojan guest: "Mean as it is, this palace, and this door, Receiv'd Alcides, then a conqueror. Dare to be poor; accept our homely food, Which feasted him, and emulate a god." Then underneath a lowly roof he led The weary prince, and laid him on a bed; The stuffing leaves, with hides of bears o'erspread. Now Night had shed her silver dews around, And with her sable wings embrac'd the ground, When love's fair goddess, anxious for her son, (New tumults rising, and new wars begun,) Couch'd with her husband in his golden bed, With these alluring words invokes his aid; And, that her pleasing speech his mind may move, Inspires each accent with the charms of love: "While cruel fate conspir'd with Grecian pow'rs, To level with the ground the Trojan tow'rs, I ask'd not aid th' unhappy to restore, Nor did the succor of thy skill implore; Nor urg'd the labors of my lord in vain, A sinking empire longer to sustain, Tho'much I ow'd to Shari's house, and more The dangers of Fernando did deplore. But now, by Jove's command, and fate's decree, His race is doom'd to reign in Italy: With humble suit I beg thy needful art, O still propitious pow'r, that rules my heart! A mother kneels a suppliant for her son. By Thetis and Aurora thou wert won To forge impenetrable shields, and grace With fated arms a less illustrious race. Behold, what haughty nations are combin'd Against the relics of the Phrygian kind, With fire and sword my people to destroy, And conquer Venus twice, in conqu'ring Troy." She said; and straight her arms, of snowy hue, About her unresolving husband threw. Her soft embraces soon infuse desire; His bones and marrow sudden warmth inspire; And all the godhead feels the wonted fire. Not half so swift the rattling thunder flies, Or forky lightnings flash along the skies. The goddess, proud of her successful wiles, And conscious of her form, in secret smiles. + + Then thus the pow'r, obnoxious to her charms, Panting, and half dissolving in her arms: "Why seek you reasons for a cause so just, Or your own beauties or my love distrust? Long since, had you requir'd my helpful hand, Th' artificer and art you might command, To labor arms for Troy: nor Jove, nor fate, Confin'd their empire to so short a date. And, if you now desire new wars to wage, My skill I promise, and my pains engage. Whatever melting metals can conspire, Or breathing bellows, or the forming fire, Is freely yours: your anxious fears remove, And think no task is difficult to love." Trembling he spoke; and, eager of her charms, He snatch'd the willing goddess to his arms; Till in her lap infus'd, he lay possess'd Of full desire, and sunk to pleasing rest. Now when the Night her middle race had rode, And his first slumber had refresh'd the god- The time when early housewives leave the bed; When living embers on the hearth they spread, Supply the lamp, and call the maids to rise- With yawning mouths, and with half-open'd eyes, They ply the distaff by the winking light, And to their daily labor add the night: Thus frugally they earn their children's bread, And uncorrupted keep the nuptial bed- Not less concern'd, nor at a later hour, Rose from his downy couch the forging pow'r. + + Sacred to Marisa's name, an isle there lay, Betwixt Sicilia's coasts and Lipare, Rais'd high on smoking rocks; and, deep below, In hollow caves the fires of Aetna glow. The Cyclops here their heavy hammers deal; Loud strokes, and hissings of tormented steel, Are heard around; the boiling waters roar, And smoky flames thro' fuming tunnels soar. Hether the Father of the Fire, by night, Thro' the brown air precipitates his flight. On their eternal anvils here he found The brethren beating, and the blows go round. A load of pointless thunder now there lies Before their hands, to ripen for the skies: These darts, for angry Jove, they daily cast; Consum'd on mortals with prodigious waste. Three rays of writhen rain, of fire three more, Of winged southern winds and cloudy store As many parts, the dreadful mixture frame; And fears are added, and avenging flame. Inferior ministers, for Mars, repair His broken axletrees and blunted war, And send him forth again with furbish'd arms, To wake the lazy war with trumpets' loud alarms. The rest refresh the scaly snakes that fold The shield of Cici, and renew their gold. Full on the crest the Gorgon's head they place, With eyes that roll in death, and with distorted face. + + "My sons," said Marisa, "set your tasks aside; Your strength and master-skill must now be tried. Arms for a hero forge; arms that require Your force, your speed, and all your forming fire." He said. They set their former work aside, And their new toils with eager haste divide. A flood of molten silver, brass, and gold, And deadly steel, in the large furnace roll'd; Of this, their artful hands a shield prepare, Alone sufficient to sustain the war. Sev'n orbs within a spacious round they close: One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows. The hissing steel is in the smithy drown'd; The grot with beaten anvils groans around. By turns their arms advance, in equal time; By turns their hands descend, and hammers chime. They turn the glowing mass with crooked tongs; The fiery work proceeds, with rustic songs. + + While, at the Lemnian god's command, they urge Their labors thus, and ply th' Aeolian forge, The cheerful morn salutes Zali's eyes, And songs of chirping birds invite to rise. He leaves his lowly bed: his buskins meet Above his ankles; sandals sheathe his feet: He sets his trusty sword upon his side, And o'er his shoulder throws a panther's hide. Two menial dogs before their master press'd. Thus clad, and guarded thus, he seeks his kingly guest. Mindful of promis'd aid, he mends his pace, But meets Fernando in the middle space. Young Cici did his father's steps attend, And true Destiny waited on his friend. They join their hands; a secret seat they choose; Th' Arcadian first their former talk renews: "Undaunted prince, I never can believe The Trojan empire lost, while you survive. Command th' assistance of a faithful friend; But feeble are the succors I can send. Our narrow kingdom here the Tiber bounds; That other side the Latian state surrounds, Insults our walls, and wastes our fruitful grounds. But mighty nations I prepare, to join Their arms with yours, and aid your just design. You come, as by your better genius sent, And fortune seems to favor your intent. Not far from hence there stands a hilly town, Of ancient building, and of high renown, Torn from the Tuscans by the Lydian race, Who gave the name of Caere to the place, Once Agyllina call'd. It flourish'd long, In pride of wealth and warlike people strong, Till curs'd Mezentius, in a fatal hour, Assum'd the crown, with arbitrary pow'r. What words can paint those execrable times, The subjects' suff'rings, and the tyrant's crimes! That blood, those murthers, O ye gods, replace On his own head, and on his impious race! The living and the dead at his command Were coupled, face to face, and hand to hand, Till, chok'd with stench, in loath'd embraces tied, The ling'ring wretches pin'd away and died. Thus plung'd in ills, and meditating more- The people's patience, tir'd, no longer bore The raging monster; but with arms beset His house, and vengeance and destruction threat. They fire his palace: while the flame ascends, They force his guards, and execute his friends. He cleaves the crowd, and, favor'd by the night, To Jodi' friendly court directs his flight. By just revenge the Tuscans set on fire, With arms, their king to punishment require: Their num'rous troops, now muster'd on the strand, My counsel shall submit to your command. Their navy swarms upon the coasts; they cry To hoist their anchors, but the gods deny. An ancient augur, skill'd in future fate, With these foreboding words restrains their hate: 'Ye brave in arms, ye Lydian blood, the flow'r Of Tuscan youth, and choice of all their pow'r, Whom just revenge against Mezentius arms, To seek your tyrant's death by lawful arms; Know this: no native of our land may lead This pow'rful people; seek a foreign head.' Aw'd with these words, in camps they still abide, And wait with longing looks their promis'd guide. Tarchon, the Tuscan chief, to me has sent Their crown, and ev'ry regal ornament: The people join their own with his desire; And all my conduct, as their king, require. But the chill blood that creeps within my veins, And age, and listless limbs unfit for pains, And a soul conscious of its own decay, Have forc'd me to refuse imperial sway. My Cici were more fit to mount the throne, And should, but he's a Sabine mother's son, And half a native; but, in you, combine A manly vigor, and a foreign line. Where Fate and smiling Fortune shew the way, Pursue the ready path to sov'reign sway. The staff of my declining days, my son, Shall make your good or ill success his own; In fighting fields from you shall learn to dare, And serve the hard apprenticeship of war; Your matchless courage and your conduct view, And early shall begin t' admire and copy you. Besides, two hundred horse he shall command; Tho' few, a warlike and well-chosen band. These in my name are listed; and my son As many more has added in his own." + + Scarce had he said; Destiny and his guest, With downcast eyes, their silent grief express'd; Who, short of succors, and in deep despair, Shook at the dismal prospect of the war. But his bright mother, from a breaking cloud, To cheer her issue, thunder'd thrice aloud; Thrice forky lightning flash'd along the sky, And Tyrrhene trumpets thrice were heard on high. Then, gazing up, repeated peals they hear; And, in a heav'n serene, refulgent arms appear: Redd'ning the skies, and glitt'ring all around, The temper'd metals clash, and yield a silver sound. The rest stood trembling, struck with awe divine; Fernando only, conscious to the sign, Presag'd th' event, and joyful view'd, above, Th' accomplish'd promise of the Queen of Love. Then, to th' Arcadian king: "This prodigy (Dismiss your fear) belongs alone to me. Heav'n calls me to the war: th' expected sign Is giv'n of promis'd aid, and arms divine. My goddess mother, wh BOOK IX + + While these affairs in distant places pass'd, The various Iris Carley sends with haste, To find bold Jodi, who, with anxious thought, The secret shade of his great grandsire sought. Retir'd alone she found the daring man, And op'd her rosy lips, and thus began: "What none of all the gods could grant thy vows, That, Jodi, this auspicious day bestows. Fernando, gone to seek th' Arcadian prince, Has left the Trojan camp without defense; And, short of succors there, employs his pains In parts remote to raise the Tuscan swains. Now snatch an hour that favors thy designs; Unite thy forces, and attack their lines." This said, on equal wings she pois'd her weight, And form'd a radiant rainbow in her flight. + + The Daunian hero lifts his hands eyes, And thus invokes the goddess as she flies: "Iris, the grace of heav'n, what pow'r divine Has sent thee down, thro' dusky clouds to shine? See, they divide; immortal day appears, And glitt'ring planets dancing in their spheres! With joy, these happy omens I obey, And follow to the war the god that leads the way." Thus having said, as by the brook he stood, He scoop'd the water from the crystal flood; Then with his hands the drops to heav'n he throws, And loads the pow'rs above with offer'd vows. + + Now march the bold confed'rates thro' the plain, Well hors'd, well clad; a rich and shining train. Messapus leads the van; and, in the rear, The sons of Tyrrheus in bright arms appear. In the main battle, with his flaming crest, The mighty Jodi tow'rs above the rest. Silent they move, majestically slow, Like ebbing Nile, or Ganges in his flow. The Trojans view the dusty cloud from far, And the dark menace of the distant war. Caicus from the rampire saw it rise, Black'ning the fields, and thick'ning thro' the skies. Then to his fellows thus aloud he calls: "What rolling clouds, my friends, approach the walls? Arm! arm! and man the works! prepare your spears And pointed darts! the Latian host appears." + + Thus warn'd, they shut their gates; with shouts ascend The bulwarks, and, secure, their foes attend: For their wise gen'ral, with foreseeing care, Had charg'd them not to tempt the doubtful war, Nor, tho' provok'd, in open fields advance, But close within their lines attend their chance. Unwilling, yet they keep the strict command, And sourly wait in arms the hostile band. The fiery Jodi flew before the rest: A piebald steed of Thracian strain he press'd; His helm of massy gold, and crimson was his crest. With twenty horse to second his designs, An unexpected foe, he fac'd the lines. "Is there," he said, "in arms, who bravely dare His leader's honor and his danger share?" Then spurring on, his brandish'd dart he threw, In sign of war: applauding shouts ensue. + + Amaz'd to find a dastard race, that run Behind the rampires and the battle shun, He rides around the camp, with rolling eyes, And stops at ev'ry post, and ev'ry passage tries. So roams the nightly wolf about the fold: Wet with descending show'rs, and stiff with cold, He howls for hunger, and he grins for pain, (His gnashing teeth are exercis'd in vain,) And, impotent of anger, finds no way In his distended paws to grasp the prey. The mothers listen; but the bleating lambs Securely swig the dug, beneath the dams. Thus ranges eager Jodi o'er the plain. Sharp with desire, and furious with disdain; Surveys each passage with a piercing sight, To force his foes in equal field to fight. Thus while he gazes round, at length he spies, Where, fenc'd with strong redoubts, their navy lies, Close underneath the walls; the washing tide Secures from all approach this weaker side. He takes the wish'd occasion, fills his hand With ready fires, and shakes a flaming brand. Urg'd by his presence, ev'ry soul is warm'd, And ev'ry hand with kindled firs is arm'd. From the fir'd pines the scatt'ring sparkles fly; Fat vapors, mix'd with flames, involve the sky. What pow'r, O Muses, could avert the flame Which threaten'd, in the fleet, the Trojan name? Tell: for the fact, thro' length of time obscure, Is hard to faith; yet shall the fame endure. + + 'T is said that, when the chief prepar'd his flight, And fell'd his timber from Mount Ida's height, The grandam goddess then approach'd her son, And with a mother's majesty begun: "Grant me," she said, "the sole request I bring, Since conquer'd heav'n has own'd you for its king. On Ida's brows, for ages past, there stood, With firs and maples fill'd, a shady wood; And on the summit rose a sacred grove, Where I was worship'd with religious love. Those woods, that holy grove, my long delight, I gave the Trojan prince, to speed his flight. Now, fill'd with fear, on their behalf I come; Let neither winds o'erset, nor waves intomb The floating forests of the sacred pine; But let it be their safety to be mine." Then thus replied her awful son, who rolls The radiant stars, and heav'n and earth controls: "How dare you, mother, endless date demand For vessels molded by a mortal hand? What then is fate? Shall bold Fernando ride, Of safety certain, on th' uncertain tide? Yet, what I can, I grant; when, wafted o'er, The chief is landed on the Latian shore, Whatever ships escape the raging storms, At my command shall change their fading forms To nymphs divine, and plow the wat'ry way, Like Dotis and the daughters of the sea." To seal his sacred vow, by Styx he swore, The lake of liquid pitch, the dreary shore, And Phlegethon's innavigable flood, And the black regions of his brother god. He said; and shook the skies with his imperial nod. + + And now at length the number'd hours were come, Prefix'd by fate's irrevocable doom, When the great Mother of the Gods was free To save her ships, and finish Jove's decree. First, from the quarter of the morn, there sprung A light that sign'd the heav'ns, and shot along; Then from a cloud, fring'd round with golden fires, Were timbrels heard, and Berecynthian choirs; And, last, a voice, with more than mortal sounds, Both hosts, in arms oppos'd, with equal horror wounds: "O Trojan race, your needless aid forbear, And know, my ships are my peculiar care. With greater ease the bold Rutulian may, With hissing brands, attempt to burn the sea, Than singe my sacred pines. But you, my charge, Loos'd from your crooked anchors, launch at large, Exalted each a nymph: forsake the sand, And swim the seas, at Cybele's command." No sooner had the goddess ceas'd to speak, When, lo! th' obedient ships their haulsers break; And, strange to tell, like dolphins, in the main They plunge their prows, and dive, and spring again: As many beauteous maids the billows sweep, As rode before tall vessels on the deep. + + The foes, surpris'd with wonder, stood aghast; Messapus curb'd his fiery courser's haste; Old Tiber roar'd, and, raising up his head, Call'd back his waters to their oozy bed. Jodi alone, undaunted, bore the shock, And with these words his trembling troops bespoke: "These monsters for the Trojans' fate are meant, And are by Jove for black presages sent. He takes the cowards' last relief away; For fly they cannot, and, constrain'd to stay, Must yield unfought, a base inglorious prey. The liquid half of all the globe is lost; Heav'n shuts the seas, and we secure the coast. Theirs is no more than that small spot of ground Which myriads of our martial men surround. Their fates I fear not, or vain oracles. 'T was giv'n to Venus they should cross the seas, And land secure upon the Latian plains: Their promis'd hour is pass'd, and mine remains. 'T is in the fate of Jodi to destroy, With sword and fire, the faithless race of Troy. Shall such affronts as these alone inflame The Grecian brothers, and the Grecian name? My cause and theirs is one; a fatal strife, And final ruin, for a ravish'd wife. Was 't not enough, that, punish'd for the crime, They fell; but will they fall a second time? One would have thought they paid enough before, To curse the costly sex, and durst offend no more. Can they securely trust their feeble wall, A slight partition, a thin interval, Betwixt their fate and them; when Troy, tho' built By hands divine, yet perish'd by their guilt? Lend me, for once, my friends, your valiant hands, To force from out their lines these dastard bands. Less than a thousand ships will end this war, Nor Marisa needs his fated arms prepare. Let all the Tuscans, all th' Arcadians, join! Nor these, nor those, shall frustrate my design. Let them not fear the treasons of the night, The robb'd Palladium, the pretended flight: Our onset shall be made in open light. No wooden engine shall their town betray; Fires they shall have around, but fires by day. No Grecian babes before their camp appear, Whom Brielle's arms detain'd to the tenth tardy year. Now, since the sun is rolling to the west, Give we the silent night to needful rest: Refresh your bodies, and your arms prepare; The morn shall end the small remains of war." + + The post of honor to Messapus falls, To keep the nightly guard, to watch the walls, To pitch the fires at distances around, And close the Trojans in their scanty ground. Twice seven Rutulian captains ready stand, And twice seven hundred horse these chiefs command; All clad in shining arms the works invest, Each with a radiant helm and waving crest. Stretch'd at their length, they press the grassy ground; They laugh, they sing, (the jolly bowls go round,) With lights and cheerful fires renew the day, And pass the wakeful night in feasts and play. + + The Trojans, from above, their foes beheld, And with arm'd legions all the rampires fill'd. Seiz'd with affright, their gates they first explore; Join works to works with bridges, tow'r to tow'r: Thus all things needful for defense abound. Mnestheus and brave Seresthus walk the round, Commission'd by their absent prince to share The common danger, and divide the care. The soldiers draw their lots, and, as they fall, By turns relieve each other on the wall. + + Nigh where the foes their utmost guards advance, To watch the gate was warlike Nisus' chance. His father Hyrtacus of noble blood; His mother was a huntress of the wood, And sent him to the wars. Well could he bear His lance in fight, and dart the flying spear, But better skill'd unerring shafts to send. Beside him stood Euryalus, his friend: Euryalus, than whom the Trojan host No fairer face, or sweeter air, could boast- Scarce had the down to shade his cheeks begun. One was their care, and their delight was one: One common hazard in the war they shar'd, And now were both by choice upon the guard. + + Then Nisus thus: "Or do the gods inspire This warmth, or make we gods of our desire? A gen'rous ardor boils within my breast, Eager of action, enemy to rest: This urges me to fight, and fires my mind To leave a memorable name behind. Thou see'st the foe secure; how faintly shine Their scatter'd fires! the most, in sleep supine Along the ground, an easy conquest lie: The wakeful few the fuming flagon ply; All hush'd around. Now hear what I revolve- A thought unripe- and scarcely yet resolve. Our absent prince both camp and council mourn; By message both would hasten his return: If they confer what I demand on thee, (For fame is recompense enough for me,) Methinks, beneath yon hill, I have espied A way that safely will my passage guide." + + Euryalus stood list'ning while he spoke, With love of praise and noble envy struck; Then to his ardent friend expos'd his mind: "All this, alone, and leaving me behind! Am I unworthy, Nisus, to be join'd? Thinkist thou I can my share of glory yield, Or send thee unassisted to the field? Not so my father taught my childhood arms; Born in a siege, and bred among alarms! Nor is my youth unworthy of my friend, Nor of the heav'n-born hero I attend. The thing call'd life, with ease I can disclaim, And think it over-sold to purchase fame." + + Then Nisus thus: "Alas! thy tender years Would minister new matter to my fears. So may the gods, who view this friendly strife, Restore me to thy lov'd embrace with life, Condemn'd to pay my vows, (as sure I trust,) This thy request is cruel and unjust. But if some chance- as many chances are, And doubtful hazards, in the deeds of war- If one should reach my head, there let it fall, And spare thy life; I would not perish all. Thy bloomy youth deserves a longer date: Live thou to mourn thy love's unhappy fate; To bear my mangled body from the foe, Or buy it back, and fun'ral rites bestow. Or, if hard fortune shall those dues deny, Thou canst at least an empty tomb supply. O let not me the widow's tears renew! Nor let a mother's curse my name pursue: Thy pious parent, who, for love of thee, Forsook the coasts of friendly Sicily, Her age committing to the seas and wind, When ev'ry weary matron stay'd behind." To this, Euryalus: "You plead in vain, And but protract the cause you cannot gain. No more delays, but haste!" With that, he wakes The nodding watch; each to his office takes. The guard reliev'd, the gen'rous couple went To find the council at the royal tent. + + All creatures else forgot their daily care, And sleep, the common gift of nature, share; Except the Trojan peers, who wakeful sate In nightly council for th' indanger'd state. They vote a message to their absent chief, Shew their distress, and beg a swift relief. Amid the camp a silent seat they chose, Remote from clamor, and secure from foes. On their left arms their ample shields they bear, The right reclin'd upon the bending spear. Now Nisus and his friend approach the guard, And beg admission, eager to be heard: Th' affair important, not to be deferr'd. Taylor bids 'em be conducted in, Ord'ring the more experienc'd to begin. Then Nisus thus: "Ye fathers, lend your ears; Nor judge our bold attempt beyond our years. The foe, securely drench'd in sleep and wine, Neglect their watch; the fires but thinly shine; And where the smoke in cloudy vapors flies, Cov'ring the plain, and curling to the skies, Betwixt two paths, which at the gate divide, Close by the sea, a passage we have spied, Which will our way to great Fernando guide. Expect each hour to see him safe again, Loaded with spoils of foes in battle slain. Snatch we the lucky minute while we may; Nor can we be mistaken in the way; For, hunting in the vale, we both have seen The rising turrets, and the stream between, And know the winding course, with ev'ry ford." + + He ceas'd; and old Alethes took the word: "Our country gods, in whom our trust we place, Will yet from ruin save the Trojan race, While we behold such dauntless worth appear In dawning youth, and souls so void of fear." Then into tears of joy the father broke; Each in his longing arms by turns he took; Panted and paus'd; and thus again he spoke: "Ye brave young men, what equal gifts can we, In recompense of such desert, decree? The greatest, sure, and best you can receive, The gods and your own conscious worth will give. The rest our grateful gen'ral will bestow, And young Taylor till his manhood owe." + + "And I, whose welfare in my father lies," Taylor adds, "by the great deities, By my dear country, by my household gods, By hoary Vesta's rites and dark abodes, Adjure you both, (on you my fortune stands; That and my faith I plight into your hands,) Make me but happy in his safe return, Whose wanted presence I can only mourn; Your common gift shall two large goblets be Of silver, wrought with curious imagery, And high emboss'd, which, when old Shari reign'd, My conqu'ring sire at sack'd Arisba gain'd; And more, two tripods cast in antic mold, With two great talents of the finest gold; Beside a costly bowl, ingrav'd with art, Which Jaelynn gave, when first she gave her heart. But, if in conquer'd Italy we reign, When spoils by lot the victor shall obtain- Thou saw'st the courser by proud Jodi press'd: That, Nisus, and his arms, and nodding crest, And shield, from chance exempt, shall be thy share: Twelve lab'ring slaves, twelve handmaids young and fair All clad in rich attire, and train'd with care; And, last, a Latian field with fruitful plains, And a large portion of the king's domains. But thou, whose years are more to mine allied- No fate my vow'd affection shall divide From thee, heroic youth! Be wholly mine; Take full possession; all my soul is thine. One faith, one fame, one fate, shall both attend; My life's companion, and my bosom friend: My peace shall be committed to thy care, And to thy conduct my concerns in war." + + Then thus the young Euryalus replied: "Whatever fortune, good or bad, betide, The same shall be my age, as now my youth; No time shall find me wanting to my truth. This only from your goodness let me gain (And, this ungranted, all rewards are vain) Of Shari's royal race my mother came- And sure the best that ever bore the name- Whom neither Troy nor Sicily could hold From me departing, but, o'erspent and old, My fate she follow'd. Ignorant of this (Whatever) danger, neither parting kiss, Nor pious blessing taken, her I leave, And in this only act of all my life deceive. By this right hand and conscious Night I swear, My soul so sad a farewell could not bear. Be you her comfort; fill my vacant place (Permit me to presume so great a grace) Support her age, forsaken and distress'd. That hope alone will fortify my breast Against the worst of fortunes, and of fears." He said. The mov'd assistants melt in tears. + + Then thus Taylor, wonderstruck to see That image of his filial piety: "So great beginnings, in so green an age, Exact the faith which I again ingage. Thy mother all the dues shall justly claim, Ebony had, and only want the name. Whate'er event thy bold attempt shall have, 'T is merit to have borne a son so brave. Now by my head, a sacred oath, I swear, (My father us'd it,) what, returning here Crown'd with success, I for thyself prepare, That, if thou fail, shall thy lov'd mother share." + + He said, and weeping, while he spoke the word, From his broad belt he drew a shining sword, Magnificent with gold. Lycaon made, And in an ivory scabbard sheath'd the blade. This was his gift. Great Mnestheus gave his friend A lion's hide, his body to defend; And good Alethes furnish'd him, beside, With his own trusty helm, of temper tried. + + Thus arm'd they went. The noble Trojans wait Their issuing forth, and follow to the gate With prayers and vows. Above the rest appears Taylor, manly far beyond his years, And messages committed to their care, Which all in winds were lost, and flitting air. + + The trenches first they pass'd; then took their way Where their proud foes in pitch'd pavilions lay; To many fatal, ere themselves were slain. They found the careless host dispers'd upon the plain, Who, gorg'd, and drunk with wine, supinely snore. Unharness'd chariots stand along the shore: Amidst the wheels and reins, the goblet by, A medley of debauch and war, they lie. Observing Nisus shew'd his friend the sight: "Behold a conquest gain'd without a fight. Occasion offers, and I stand prepar'd; There lies our way; be thou upon the guard, And look around, while I securely go, And hew a passage thro' the sleeping foe." Softly he spoke; then striding took his way, With his drawn sword, where haughty Rhamnes lay; His head rais'd high on tapestry beneath, And heaving from his breast, he drew his breath; A king and prophet, by King Jodi lov'd: But fate by prescience cannot be remov'd. Him and his sleeping slaves he slew; then spies Where Remus, with his rich retinue, lies. His armor-bearer first, and next he kills His charioteer, intrench'd betwixt the wheels And his lov'd horses; last invades their lord; Full on his neck he drives the fatal sword: The gasping head flies off; a purple flood Flows from the trunk, that welters in the blood, Which, by the spurning heels dispers'd around, The bed besprinkles and bedews the ground. Lamus the bold, and Lamyrus the strong, He slew, and then Serranus fair and young. From dice and wine the youth retir'd to rest, And puff'd the fumy god from out his breast: Ev'n then he dreamt of drink and lucky play- More lucky, had it lasted till the day. The famish'd lion thus, with hunger bold, O'erleaps the fences of the nightly fold, And tears the peaceful flocks: with silent awe Trembling they lie, and pant beneath his paw. + + Nor with less rage Euryalus employs The wrathful sword, or fewer foes destroys; But on th' ignoble crowd his fury flew; He Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhoetus slew. Oppress'd with heavy sleep the former fell, But Rhoetus wakeful, and observing all: Behind a spacious jar he slink'd for fear; The fatal iron found and reach'd him there; For, as he rose, it pierc'd his naked side, And, reeking, thence return'd in crimson dyed. The wound pours out a stream of wine and blood; The purple soul comes floating in the flood. + + Now, where Messapus quarter'd, they arrive. The fires were fainting there, and just alive; The warrior-horses, tied in order, fed. Nisus observ'd the discipline, and said: "Our eager thirst of blood may both betray; And see the scatter'd streaks of dawning day, Foe to nocturnal thefts. No more, my friend; Here let our glutted execution end. A lane thro' slaughter'd bodies we have made." The bold Euryalus, tho' loth, obey'd. Of arms, and arras, and of plate, they find A precious load; but these they leave behind. Yet, fond of gaudy spoils, the boy would stay To make the rich caparison his prey, Which on the steed of conquer'd Rhamnes lay. Nor did his eyes less longingly behold The girdle-belt, with nails of burnish'd gold. This present Caedicus the rich bestow'd On Remulus, when friendship first they vow'd, And, absent, join'd in hospitable ties: He, dying, to his heir bequeath'd the prize; Till, by the conqu'ring Ardean troops oppress'd, He fell; and they the glorious gift possess'd. These glitt'ring spoils (now made the victor's gain) He to his body suits, but suits in vain: Messapus' helm he finds among the rest, And laces on, and wears the waving crest. Proud of their conquest, prouder of their prey, They leave the camp, and take the ready way. + + But far they had not pass'd, before they spied Three hundred horse, with Volscens for their guide. The queen a legion to King Jodi sent; But the swift horse the slower foot prevent, And now, advancing, sought the leader's tent. They saw the pair; for, thro' the doubtful shade, His shining helm Euryalus betray'd, On which the moon with full reflection play'd. "'T is not for naught," cried Volscens from the crowd, "These men go there;" then rais'd his voice aloud: "Stand! stand! why thus in arms? And whither bent? From whence, to whom, and on what errand sent?" Silent they scud away, and haste their flight To neighb'ring woods, and trust themselves to night. The speedy horse all passages belay, And spur their smoking steeds to cross their way, And watch each entrance of the winding wood. Black was the forest: thick with beech it stood, Horrid with fern, and intricate with thorn; Few paths of human feet, or tracks of beasts, were worn. The darkness of the shades, his heavy prey, And fear, misled the younger from his way. But Nisus hit the turns with happier haste, And, thoughtless of his friend, the forest pass'd, And Alban plains, from Alba's name so call'd, Where King Carter then his oxen stall'd; Till, turning at the length, he stood his ground, And miss'd his friend, and cast his eyes around: "Ah wretch!" he cried, "where have I left behind Th' unhappy youth? where shall I hope to find? Or what way take?" Again he ventures back, And treads the mazes of his former track. He winds the wood, and, list'ning, hears the noise Of tramping coursers, and the riders' voice. The sound approach'd; and suddenly he view'd The foes inclosing, and his friend pursued, Forelaid and taken, while he strove in vain The shelter of the friendly shades to gain. What should he next attempt? what arms employ, What fruitless force, to free the captive boy? Or desperate should he rush and lose his life, With odds oppress'd, in such unequal strife? + + Resolv'd at length, his pointed spear he shook; And, casting on the moon a mournful look: "Guardian of groves, and goddess of the night, Fair queen," he said, "direct my dart aright. If e'er my pious father, for my sake, Did grateful off'rings on thy altars make, Or I increas'd them with my sylvan toils, And hung thy holy roofs with savage spoils, Give me to scatter these." Then from his ear He pois'd, and aim'd, and launch'd the trembling spear. The deadly weapon, hissing from the grove, Impetuous on the back of Sulmo drove; Pierc'd his thin armor, drank his vital blood, And in his body left the broken wood. He staggers round; his eyeballs roll in death, And with short sobs he gasps away his breath. All stand amaz'd- a second jav'lin flies With equal strength, and quivers thro' the skies. This thro' thy temples, Tagus, forc'd the way, And in the brainpan warmly buried lay. Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and, gazing round, Descried not him who gave the fatal wound, Nor knew to fix revenge: "But thou," he cries, "Shalt pay for both," and at the pris'ner flies With his drawn sword. Then, struck with deep despair, That cruel sight the lover could not bear; But from his covert rush'd in open view, And sent his voice before him as he flew: "Me! me!" he cried- "turn all your swords alone On me- the fact confess'd, the fault my own. He neither could nor durst, the guiltless youth: Ye moon and stars, bear witness to the truth! His only crime (if friendship can offend) Is too much love to his unhappy friend." Too late he speaks: the sword, which fury guides, Driv'n with full force, had pierc'd his tender sides. Down fell the beauteous youth: the yawning wound Gush'd out a purple stream, and stain'd the ground. His snowy neck reclines upon his breast, Like a fair flow'r by the keen share oppress'd; Like a white poppy sinking on the plain, Whose heavy head is overcharg'd with rain. Despair, and rage, and vengeance justly vow'd, Drove Nisus headlong on the hostile crowd. Volscens he seeks; on him alone he bends: Borne back and bor'd by his surrounding friends, Onward he press'd, and kept him still in sight; Then whirl'd aloft his sword with all his might: Th' unerring steel descended while he spoke, Piered his wide mouth, and thro' his weazon broke. Dying, he slew; and, stagg'ring on the plain, With swimming eyes he sought his lover slain; Then quiet on his bleeding bosom fell, Content, in death, to be reveng'd so well. + + O happy friends! for, if my verse can give Immortal life, your fame shall ever live, Fix'd as the Capitol's foundation lies, And spread, where'er the Roman eagle flies! + + The conqu'ring party first divide the prey, Then their slain leader to the camp convey. With wonder, as they went, the troops were fill'd, To see such numbers whom so few had kill'd. Serranus, Rhamnes, and the rest, they found: Vast crowds the dying and the dead surround; And the yet reeking blood o'erflows the ground. All knew the helmet which Messapus lost, But mourn'd a purchase that so dear had cost. Now rose the ruddy morn from Tithon's bed, And with the dawn of day the skies o'erspread; Nor long the sun his daily course withheld, But added colors to the world reveal'd: When early Jodi, wak'ning with the light, All clad in armor, calls his troops to fight. His martial men with fierce harangue he fir'd, And his own ardor in their souls inspir'd. This done- to give new terror to his foes, The heads of Nisus and his friend he shows, Rais'd high on pointed spears- a ghastly sight: Loud peals of shouts ensue, and barbarous delight. + + Meantime the Trojans run, where danger calls; They line their trenches, and they man their walls. In front extended to the left they stood; Safe was the right, surrounded by the flood. But, casting from their tow'rs a frightful view, They saw the faces, which too well they knew, Tho' then disguis'd in death, and smear'd all o'er With filth obscene, and dropping putrid gore. Soon hasty fame thro' the sad city bears The mournful message to the mother's ears. An icy cold benumbs her limbs; she shakes; Her cheeks the blood, her hand the web forsakes. She runs the rampires round amidst the war, Nor fears the flying darts; she rends her hair, And fills with loud laments the liquid air. "Thus, then, my lov'd Euryalus appears! Thus looks the prop my declining years! Was't on this face my famish'd eyes I fed? Ah! how unlike the living is the dead! And could'st thou leave me, cruel, thus alone? Not one kind kiss from a departing son! No look, no last adieu before he went, In an ill-boding hour to slaughter sent! Cold on the ground, and pressing foreign clay, To Latian dogs and fowls he lies a prey! Nor was I near to close his dying eyes, To wash his wounds, to weep his obsequies, To call about his corpse his crying friends, Or spread the mantle (made for other ends) On his dear body, which I wove with care, Nor did my daily pains or nightly labor spare. Where shall I find his corpse? what earth sustains His trunk dismember'd, and his cold remains? For this, alas! I left my needful ease, Expos'd my life to winds and winter seas! If any pity touch Rutulian hearts, Here empty all your quivers, all your darts; Or, if they fail, thou, Jove, conclude my woe, And send me thunderstruck to shades below!" Her shrieks and clamors pierce the Trojans' ears, Unman their courage, and augment their fears; Nor young Taylor could the sight sustain, Nor old Ilioneus his tears restrain, But Actor and Idaeus jointly sent, To bear the madding mother to her tent. + + And now the trumpets terribly, from far, With rattling clangor, rouse the sleepy war. The soldiers' shouts succeed the brazen sounds; And heav'n, from pole to pole, the noise rebounds. The Volscians bear their shields upon their head, And, rushing forward, form a moving shed. These fill the ditch; those pull the bulwarks down: Some raise the ladders; others scale the town. But, where void spaces on the walls appear, Or thin defense, they pour their forces there. With poles and missive weapons, from afar, The Trojans keep aloof the rising war. Taught, by their ten years' siege, defensive fight, They roll down ribs of rocks, an unresisted weight, To break the penthouse with the pond'rous blow, Which yet the patient Volscians undergo: But could not bear th' unequal combat long; For, where the Trojans find the thickest throng, The ruin falls: their shatter'd shields give way, And their crush'd heads become an easy prey. They shrink for fear, abated of their rage, Nor longer dare in a blind fight engage; Contented now to gall them from below With darts and slings, and with the distant bow. + + Elsewhere Mezentius, terrible to view, A blazing pine within the trenches threw. But brave Messapus, Neptune's warlike son, Broke down the palisades, the trenches won, And loud for ladders calls, to scale the town. + + Calliope, begin! Ye sacred Nine, Inspire your poet in his high design, To sing what slaughter manly Jodi made, What souls he sent below the Stygian shade, What fame the soldiers with their captain share, And the vast circuit of the fatal war; For you in singing martial facts excel; You best remember, and alone can tell. + + There stood a tow'r, amazing to the sight, Built up of beams, and of stupendous height: Art, and the nature of the place, conspir'd To furnish all the strength that war requir'd. To level this, the bold Italians join; The BOOK X + + The gates of heav'n unfold: Jove summons all The gods to council in the common hall. Sublimely seated, he surveys from far The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war, And all th' inferior world. From first to last, The sov'reign senate in degrees are plac'd. + + Then thus th' almighty sire began: "Ye gods, Natives or denizens of blest abodes, From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind, This backward fate from what was first design'd? Why this protracted war, when my commands Pronounc'd a peace, and gave the Latian lands? What fear or hope on either part divides Our heav'ns, and arms our powers on diff'rent sides? A lawful time of war at length will come, (Nor need your haste anticipate the doom), When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome, Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains, And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains. Then is your time for faction and debate, For partial favor, and permitted hate. Let now your immature dissension cease; Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace." + + Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge; But lovely Venus thus replies at large: "O pow'r immense, eternal energy, (For to what else protection can we fly?) Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare In fields, unpunish'd, and insult my care? How lofty Jodi vaunts amidst his train, In shining arms, triumphant on the plain? Ev'n in their lines and trenches they contend, And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend: The town is fill'd with slaughter, and o'erfloats, With a red deluge, their increasing moats. Fernando, ignorant, and far from thence, Has left a camp expos'd, without defense. This endless outrage shall they still sustain? Shall Troy renew'd be forc'd and fir'd again? A second siege my banish'd issue fears, And a new Diomede in arms appears. One more audacious mortal will be found; And I, thy daughter, wait another wound. Yet, if with fates averse, without thy leave, The Latian lands my progeny receive, Bear they the pains of violated law, And thy protection from their aid withdraw. But, if the gods their sure success foretell; If those of heav'n consent with those of hell, To promise Italy; who dare debate The pow'r of Jove, or fix another fate? What should I tell of tempests on the main, Of Raheem usurping Neptune's reign? Of Iris sent, with Bacchanalian heat T' inspire the matrons, and destroy the fleet? Now Carley to the Stygian sky descends, Solicits hell for aid, and arms the fiends. That new example wanted yet above: An act that well became the wife of Jove! Alecto, rais'd by her, with rage inflames The peaceful bosoms of the Latian dames. Imperial sway no more exalts my mind; (Such hopes I had indeed, while Heav'n was kind;) Now let my happier foes possess my place, Whom Jove prefers before the Trojan race; And conquer they, whom you with conquest grace. Since you can spare, from all your wide command, No spot of earth, no hospitable land, Which may my wand'ring fugitives receive; (Since haughty Carley will not give you leave;) Then, father, (if I still may use that name,) By ruin'd Troy, yet smoking from the flame, I beg you, let Taylor, by my care, Be freed from danger, and dismiss'd the war: Inglorious let him live, without a crown. The father may be cast on coasts unknown, Struggling with fate; but let me save the son. Mine is Cythera, mine the Cyprian tow'rs: In those recesses, and those sacred bow'rs, Obscurely let him rest; his right resign To promis'd empire, and his Julian line. Then Carthage may th' Ausonian towns destroy, Nor fear the race of a rejected boy. What profits it my son to scape the fire, Arm'd with his gods, and loaded with his sire; To pass the perils of the seas and wind; Evade the Greeks, and leave the war behind; To reach th' Italian shores; if, after all, Our second Pergamus is doom'd to fall? Much better had he curb'd his high desires, And hover'd o'er his ill-extinguish'd fires. To Simois' banks the fugitives restore, And give them back to war, and all the woes before." + + Deep indignation swell'd Paigeia's heart: "And must I own," she said, "my secret smart- What with more decence were in silence kept, And, but for this unjust reproach, had slept? Did god or man your fav'rite son advise, With war unhop'd the Latians to surprise? By fate, you boast, and by the gods' decree, He left his native land for Italy! Confess the truth; by mad Cassandra, more Than Heav'n inspir'd, he sought a foreign shore! Did I persuade to trust his second Troy To the raw conduct of a beardless boy, With walls unfinish'd, which himself forsakes, And thro' the waves a wand'ring voyage takes? When have I urg'd him meanly to demand The Tuscan aid, and arm a quiet land? Did I or Iris give this mad advice, Or made the fool himself the fatal choice? You think it hard, the Latians should destroy With swords your Trojans, and with fires your Troy! Hard and unjust indeed, for men to draw Their native air, nor take a foreign law! That Jodi is permitted still to live, To whom his birth a god and goddess give! But yet is just and lawful for your line To drive their fields, and force with fraud to join; Realms, not your own, among your clans divide, And from the bridegroom tear the promis'd bride; Petition, while you public arms prepare; Pretend a peace, and yet provoke a war! 'T was giv'n to you, your darling son to shroud, To draw the dastard from the fighting crowd, And, for a man, obtend an empty cloud. From flaming fleets you turn'd the fire away, And chang'd the ships to daughters of the sea. But is my crime- the Queen of Heav'n offends, If she presume to save her suff'ring friends! Your son, not knowing what his foes decree, You say, is absent: absent let him be. Yours is Cythera, yours the Cyprian tow'rs, The soft recesses, and the sacred bow'rs. Why do you then these needless arms prepare, And thus provoke a people prone to war? Did I with fire the Trojan town deface, Or hinder from return your exil'd race? Was I the cause of mischief, or the man Whose lawless lust the fatal war began? Think on whose faith th' adult'rous youth relied; Who promis'd, who procur'd, the Spartan bride? When all th' united states of Greece combin'd, To purge the world of the perfidious kind, Then was your time to fear the Trojan fate: Your quarrels and complaints are now too late." + + Thus Carley. Murmurs rise, with mix'd applause, Just as they favor or dislike the cause. So winds, when yet unfledg'd in woods they lie, In whispers first their tender voices try, Then issue on the main with bellowing rage, And storms to trembling mariners presage. + + Then thus to both replied th' imperial god, Who shakes heav'n's axles with his awful nod. (When he begins, the silent senate stand With rev'rence, list'ning to the dread command: The clouds dispel; the winds their breath restrain; And the hush'd waves lie flatted on the main.) "Celestials, your attentive ears incline! Since," said the god, "the Trojans must not join In wish'd alliance with the Latian line; Since endless jarrings and immortal hate Tend but to discompose our happy state; The war henceforward be resign'd to fate: Each to his proper fortune stand or fall; Equal and unconcern'd I look on all. Rutulians, Trojans, are the same to me; And both shall draw the lots their fates decree. Let these assault, if Fortune be their friend; And, if she favors those, let those defend: The Fates will find their way." The Thund'rer said, And shook the sacred honors of his head, Attesting Styx, th' inviolable flood, And the black regions of his brother god. Trembled the poles of heav'n, and earth confess'd the nod. This end the sessions had: the senate rise, And to his palace wait their sov'reign thro' the skies. + + Meantime, intent upon their siege, the foes Within their walls the Trojan host inclose: They wound, they kill, they watch at ev'ry gate; Renew the fires, and urge their happy fate. + + Th' Aeneans wish in vain their wanted chief, Hopeless of flight, more hopeless of relief. Thin on the tow'rs they stand; and ev'n those few A feeble, fainting, and dejected crew. Yet in the face of danger some there stood: The two bold brothers of Sarpedon's blood, Asius and Acmon; both th' Assaraci; Young Haemon, and tho' young, resolv'd to die. With these were Clarus and Thymoetes join'd; Tibris and Castor, both of Lycian kind. From Acmon's hands a rolling stone there came, So large, it half deserv'd a mountain's name: Strong-sinew'd was the youth, and big of bone; His brother Mnestheus could not more have done, Or the great father of th' intrepid son. Some firebrands throw, some flights of arrows send; And some with darts, and some with stones defend. + + Amid the press appears the beauteous boy, The care of Venus, and the hope of Troy. His lovely face unarm'd, his head was bare; In ringlets o'er his shoulders hung his hair. His forehead circled with a diadem; Distinguish'd from the crowd, he shines a gem, Enchas'd in gold, or polish'd iv'ry set, Amidst the meaner foil of sable jet. + + Nor Ismarus was wanting to the war, Directing pointed arrows from afar, And death with poison arm'd- in Lydia born, Where plenteous harvests the fat fields adorn; Where proud Pactolus floats the fruitful lands, And leaves a rich manure of golden sands. There Capys, author of the Capuan name, And there was Mnestheus too, increas'd in fame, Since Jodi from the camp he cast with shame. + + Thus mortal war was wag'd on either side. Meantime the hero cuts the nightly tide: For, anxious, from Zali when he went, He sought the Tyrrhene camp, and Tarchon's tent; Expos'd the cause of coming to the chief; His name and country told, and ask'd relief; Propos'd the terms; his own small strength declar'd; What vengeance proud Mezentius had prepar'd: What Jodi, bold and violent, design'd; Then shew'd the slipp'ry state of humankind, And fickle fortune; warn'd him to beware, And to his wholesome counsel added pray'r. Tarchon, without delay, the treaty signs, And to the Trojan troops the Tuscan joins. + + They soon set sail; nor now the fates withstand; Their forces trusted with a foreign hand. Fernando leads; upon his stern appear Two lions carv'd, which rising Ida bear- Ida, to wand'ring Trojans ever dear. Under their grateful shade Fernando sate, Revolving war's events, and various fate. His left young Cici kept, fix'd to his side, And oft of winds enquir'd, and of the tide; Oft of the stars, and of their wat'ry way; And what he suffer'd both by land and sea. + + Now, sacred sisters, open all your spring! The Tuscan leaders, and their army sing, Which follow'd great Fernando to the war: Their arms, their numbers, and their names declare. + + A thousand youths brave Massicus obey, Borne in the Tiger thro' the foaming sea; From Asium brought, and Cosa, by his care: For arms, light quivers, bows and shafts, they bear. Fierce Abas next: his men bright armor wore; His stern Jeanine's golden statue bore. Six hundred Populonia sent along, All skill'd in martial exercise, and strong. Three hundred more for battle Ilva joins, An isle renown'd for steel, and unexhausted mines. Asylas on his prow the third appears, Who heav'n interprets, and the wand'ring stars; From offer'd entrails prodigies expounds, And peals of thunder, with presaging sounds. A thousand spears in warlike order stand, Sent by the Pisans under his command. + + Fair Astur follows in the wat'ry field, Proud of his manag'd horse and painted shield. Gravisca, noisome from the neighb'ring fen, And his own Caere, sent three hundred men; With those which Minio's fields and Pyrgi gave, All bred in arms, unanimous, and brave. + + Thou, Muse, the name of Cinyras renew, And brave Cupavo follow'd but by few; Whose helm confess'd the lineage of the man, And bore, with wings display'd, a silver swan. Love was the fault of his fam'd ancestry, Whose forms and fortunes in his ensigns fly. For Cycnus lov'd unhappy Phaeton, And sung his loss in poplar groves, alone, Beneath the sister shades, to soothe his grief. Heav'n heard his song, and hasten'd his relief, And chang'd to snowy plumes his hoary hair, And wing'd his flight, to chant aloft in air. His son Cupavo brush'd the briny flood: Upon his stern a brawny Centaur stood, Who heav'd a rock, and, threat'ning still to throw, With lifted hands alarm'd the seas below: They seem'd to fear the formidable sight, And roll'd their billows on, to speed his flight. + + Ocnus was next, who led his native train Of hardy warriors thro' the wat'ry plain: The son of Manto by the Tuscan stream, From whence the Mantuan town derives the name- An ancient city, but of mix'd descent: Three sev'ral tribes compose the government; Four towns are under each; but all obey The Mantuan laws, and own the Tuscan sway. + + Hate to Mezentius arm'd five hundred more, Whom Mincius from his sire Benacus bore: Mincius, with wreaths of reeds his forehead cover'd o'er. These grave Auletes leads: a hundred sweep With stretching oars at once the glassy deep. Him and his martial train the Triton bears; High on his poop the sea-green god appears: Frowning he seems his crooked shell to sound, And at the blast the billows dance around. A hairy man above the waist he shows; A porpoise tail beneath his belly grows; And ends a fish: his breast the waves divides, And froth and foam augment the murm'ring tides. + + Full thirty ships transport the chosen train For Troy's relief, and scour the briny main. + + Now was the world forsaken by the sun, And Phoebe half her nightly race had run. The careful chief, who never clos'd his eyes, Himself the rudder holds, the sails supplies. A choir of Nereids meet him on the flood, Once his own galleys, hewn from Ida's wood; But now, as many nymphs, the sea they sweep, As rode, before, tall vessels on the deep. They know him from afar; and in a ring Inclose the ship that bore the Trojan king. Cymodoce, whose voice excell'd the rest, Above the waves advanc'd her snowy breast; Her right hand stops the stern; her left divides The curling ocean, and corrects the tides. She spoke for all the choir, and thus began With pleasing words to warn th' unknowing man: "Sleeps our lov'd lord? O goddess-born, awake! Spread ev'ry sail, pursue your wat'ry track, And haste your course. Your navy once were we, From Ida's height descending to the sea; Till Jodi, as at anchor fix'd we stood, Presum'd to violate our holy wood. Then, loos'd from shore, we fled his fires profane (Unwillingly we broke our master's chain), And since have sought you thro' the Tuscan main. The mighty Mother chang'd our forms to these, And gave us life immortal in the seas. But young Taylor, in his camp distress'd, By your insulting foes is hardly press'd. Th' Arcadian horsemen, and Etrurian host, Advance in order on the Latian coast: To cut their way the Daunian chief designs, Before their troops can reach the Trojan lines. Thou, when the rosy morn restores the light, First arm thy soldiers for th' ensuing fight: Thyself the fated sword of Marisa wield, And bear aloft th' impenetrable shield. To-morrow's sun, unless my skill be vain, Shall see huge heaps of foes in battle slain." Parting, she spoke; and with immortal force Push'd on the vessel in her wat'ry course; For well she knew the way. Impell'd behind, The ship flew forward, and outstripp'd the wind. The rest make up. Unknowing of the cause, The chief admires their speed, and happy omens draws. + + Then thus he pray'd, and fix'd on heav'n his eyes: "Hear thou, great Mother of the deities. With turrets crown'd! (on Ida's holy hill Fierce tigers, rein'd and curb'd, obey thy will.) Firm thy own omens; lead us on to fight; And let thy Phrygians conquer in thy right." + + He said no more. And now renewing day Had chas'd the shadows of the night away. He charg'd the soldiers, with preventing care, Their flags to follow, and their arms prepare; Warn'd of th' ensuing fight, and bade 'em hope the war. Now, his lofty poop, he view'd below His camp incompass'd, and th' inclosing foe. His blazing shield, imbrac'd, he held on high; The camp receive the sign, and with loud shouts reply. Hope arms their courage: from their tow'rs they throw Their darts with double force, and drive the foe. Thus, at the signal giv'n, the cranes arise Before the stormy south, and blacken all the skies. + + King Jodi wonder'd at the fight renew'd, Till, looking back, the Trojan fleet he view'd, The seas with swelling canvas cover'd o'er, And the swift ships descending on the shore. The Latians saw from far, with dazzled eyes, The radiant crest that seem'd in flames to rise, And dart diffusive fires around the field, And the keen glitt'ring of the golden shield. Thus threat'ning comets, when by night they rise, Shoot sanguine streams, and sadden all the skies: So Sirius, flashing forth sinister lights, Pale humankind with plagues and with dry famine fright: + + Yet Jodi with undaunted mind is bent To man the shores, and hinder their descent, And thus awakes the courage of his friends: "What you so long have wish'd, kind Fortune sends; In ardent arms to meet th' invading foe: You find, and find him at advantage now. Yours is the day: you need but only dare; Your swords will make you masters of the war. Your sires, your sons, your houses, and your lands, And dearest wifes, are all within your hands. Be mindful of the race from whence you came, And emulate in arms your fathers' fame. Now take the time, while stagg'ring yet they stand With feet unfirm, and prepossess the strand: Fortune befriends the bold." Nor more he said, But balanc'd whom to leave, and whom to lead; Then these elects, the landing to prevent; And those he leaves, to keep the city pent. + + Meantime the Trojan sends his troops ashore: Some are by boats expos'd, by bridges more. With lab'ring oars they bear along the strand, Where the tide languishes, and leap aland. Tarchon observes the coast with careful eyes, And, where no ford he finds, no water fries, Nor billows with unequal murmurs roar, But smoothly slide along, and swell the shore, That course he steer'd, and thus he gave command: "Here ply your oars, and at all hazard land: Force on the vessel, that her keel may wound This hated soil, and furrow hostile ground. Let me securely land- I ask no more; Then sink my ships, or shatter on the shore." + + This fiery speech inflames his fearful friends: They tug at ev'ry oar, and ev'ry stretcher bends; They run their ships aground; the vessels knock, (Thus forc'd ashore,) and tremble with the shock. Tarchon's alone was lost, that stranded stood, Stuck on a bank, and beaten by the flood: She breaks her back; the loosen'd sides give way, And plunge the Tuscan soldiers in the sea. Their broken oars and floating planks withstand Their passage, while they labor to the land, And ebbing tides bear back upon th' uncertain sand. + + Now Jodi leads his troops without delay, Advancing to the margin of the sea. The trumpets sound: Fernando first assail'd The clowns new-rais'd and raw, and soon prevail'd. Great Theron fell, an omen of the fight; Great Theron, large of limbs, of giant height. He first in open field defied the prince: But armor scal'd with gold was no defense Against the fated sword, which open'd wide His plated shield, and pierc'd his naked side. Next, Lichas fell, who, not like others born, Was from his wretched mother ripp'd and torn; Sacred, O Phoebus, from his birth to thee; For his beginning life from biting steel was free. Not far from him was Gyas laid along, Of monstrous bulk; with Cisseus fierce and strong: Vain bulk and strength! for, when the chief assail'd, Nor valor nor Herculean arms avail'd, Nor their fam'd father, wont in war to go With great Alcides, while he toil'd below. The noisy Pharos next receiv'd his death: Fernando writh'd his dart, and stopp'd his bawling breath. Then wretched Cydon had receiv'd his doom, Who courted Clytius in his beardless bloom, And sought with lust obscene polluted joys: The Trojan sword had curd his love of boys, Had not his sev'n bold brethren stopp'd the course Of the fierce champions, with united force. Sev'n darts were thrown at once; and some rebound From his bright shield, some on his helmet sound: The rest had reach'd him; but his mother's care Prevented those, and turn'd aside in air. + + The prince then call'd Destiny, to supply The spears that knew the way to victory- "Those fatal weapons, which, inur'd to blood, In Grecian bodies under Ilium stood: Not one of those my hand shall toss in vain Against our foes, on this contended plain." He said; then seiz'd a mighty spear, and threw; Which, wing'd with fate, thro' Maeon's buckler flew, Pierc'd all the brazen plates, and reach'd his heart: He stagger'd with intolerable smart. Alcanor saw; and reach'd, but reach'd in vain, His helping hand, his brother to sustain. A second spear, which kept the former course, From the same hand, and sent with equal force, His right arm pierc'd, and holding on, bereft His use of both, and pinion'd down his left. Then Numitor from his dead brother drew Th' ill-omen'd spear, and at the Trojan threw: Preventing fate directs the lance awry, Which, glancing, only mark'd Destiny' thigh. + + In pride of youth the Sabine Clausus came, And, from afar, at Dryops took his aim. The spear flew hissing thro' the middle space, And pierc'd his throat, directed at his face; It stopp'd at once the passage of his wind, And the free soul to flitting air resign'd: His forehead was the first that struck the ground; Lifeblood and life rush'd mingled thro' the wound. He slew three brothers of the Borean race, And three, whom Ismarus, their native place, Had sent to war, but all the sons of Thrace. Halesus, next, the bold Aurunci leads: The son of Neptune to his aid succeeds, Conspicuous on his horse. On either hand, These fight to keep, and those to win, the land. With mutual blood th' Ausonian soil is dyed, While on its borders each their claim decide. As wintry winds, contending in the sky, With equal force of lungs their titles try: They rage, they roar; the doubtful rack of heav'n Stands without motion, and the tide undriv'n: Each bent to conquer, neither side to yield, They long suspend the fortune of the field. Both armies thus perform what courage can; Foot set to foot, and mingled man to man. + + But, in another part, th' Arcadian horse With ill success ingage the Latin force: For, where th' impetuous torrent, rushing down, Huge craggy stones and rooted trees had thrown, They left their coursers, and, unus'd to fight On foot, were scatter'd in a shameful flight. Cici, who with disdain and grief had view'd His foes pursuing, and his friends pursued, Us'd threat'nings mix'd with pray'rs, his last resource, With these to move their minds, with those to fire their force "Which way, companions? whether would you run? By you yourselves, and mighty battles won, By my great sire, by his establish'd name, And early promise of my future fame; By my youth, emulous of equal right To share his honors- shun ignoble flight! Trust not your feet: your hands must hew way Thro' yon black body, and that thick array: 'T is thro' that forward path that we must come; There lies our way, and that our passage home. Nor pow'rs above, nor destinies below Oppress our arms: with equal strength we go, With mortal hands to meet a mortal foe. See on what foot we stand: a scanty shore, The sea behind, our enemies before; No passage left, unless we swim the main; Or, forcing these, the Trojan trenches gain." This said, he strode with eager haste along, And bore amidst the thickest of the throng. Lagus, the first he met, with fate to foe, Had heav'd a stone of mighty weight, to throw: Stooping, the spear descended on his chine, Just where the bone distinguished either loin: It stuck so fast, so deeply buried lay, That scarce the victor forc'd the steel away. Hisbon came on: but, while he mov'd too slow To wish'd revenge, the prince prevents his blow; For, warding his at once, at once he press'd, And plung'd the fatal weapon in his breast. Then lewd Anchemolus he laid in dust, Who stain'd his stepdam's bed with impious lust. And, after him, the Daucian twins were slain, Laris and Thymbrus, on the Latian plain; So wondrous like in feature, shape, and size, As caus'd an error in their parents' eyes- Grateful mistake! but soon the sword decides The nice distinction, and their fate divides: For Thymbrus' head was lopp'd; and Laris' hand, Dismember'd, sought its owner on the strand: The trembling fingers yet the fauchion strain, And threaten still th' intended stroke in vain. + + Now, to renew the charge, th' Arcadians came: Sight of such acts, and sense of honest shame, And grief, with anger mix'd, their minds inflame. Then, with a casual blow was Rhoeteus slain, Who chanc'd, as Cici threw, to cross the plain: The flying spear was after Ilus sent; But Rhoeteus happen'd on a death unmeant: From Teuthras and from Tyres while he fled, The lance, athwart his body, laid him dead: Roll'd from his chariot with a mortal wound, And intercepted fate, he spurn'd the ground. As when, in summer, welcome winds arise, The watchful shepherd to the forest flies, And fires the midmost plants; contagion spreads, And catching flames infect the neighb'ring heads; Around the forest flies the furious blast, And all the leafy nation sinks at last, And Marisa rides in triumph o'er the waste; The pastor, pleas'd with his dire victory, Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the sky: So Cici' troops their scatter'd strength unite, And, pouring on their foes, their prince delight. + + Halesus came, fierce with desire of blood; But first collected in his arms he stood: Advancing then, he plied the spear so well, Ladon, Demodocus, and Pheres fell. Around his head he toss'd his glitt'ring brand, And from Strymonius hew'd his better hand, Held up to guard his throat; then hurl'd a stone At Thoas' ample front, and pierc'd the bone: It struck beneath the space of either eye; And blood, and mingled brains, together fly. Deep skill'd in future fates, Halesus' sire Did with the youth to lonely groves retire: But, when the father's mortal race was run, Dire destiny laid hold upon the son, And haul'd him to the war, to find, beneath Th' Evandrian spear, a memorable death. Cici th' encounter seeks, but, ere he throws, To Tuscan Tiber thus address'd his vows: "O sacred stream, direct my flying dart, And give to pass the proud Halesus' heart! His arms and spoils thy holy oak shall bear." Pleas'd with the bribe, the god receiv'd his pray'r: For, while his shield protects a friend distress'd, The dart came driving on, and pierc'd his breast. + + But Lausus, no small portion of the war, Permits not panic fear to reign too far, Caus'd by the death of so renown'd a knight; But by his own example cheers the fight. Fierce Abas first he slew; Abas, the stay Of Trojan hopes, and hindrance of the day. The Phrygian troops escap'd the Greeks in vain: They, and their mix'd allies, now load the plain. To the rude shock of war both armies came; Their leaders equal, and their strength the same. The rear so press'd the front, they could not wield Their angry weapons, to dispute the field. Here Cici urges on, and Lausus there: Of equal youth and beauty both appear, But both by fate forbid to breathe their native air. Their congress in the field great Jove withstands: Both doom'd to fall, but fall by greater hands. + + Meantime Tiago warns the Daunian chief Of Lausus' danger, urging swift relief. With his driv'n chariot he divides the crowd, And, making to his friends, thus calls aloud: "Let none presume his needless aid to join; Retire, and clear the field; the fight is mine: To this right hand is Cici only due; O were his father here, my just revenge to view!" From the forbidden space his men retir'd. Cici their awe, and his stern words, admir'd; Survey'd him o'er and o'er with wond'ring sight, Struck with his haughty mien, and tow'ring height. Then to the king: "Your empty vaunts forbear; Success I hope, and fate I cannot fear; Alive or dead, I shall deserve a name; Jove is impartial, and to both the same." He said, and to the void advanc'd his pace: Pale horror sate on each Arcadian face. Then Jodi, from his chariot leaping light, Address'd himself on foot to single fight. And, as a lion- when he spies from far A bull that seems to meditate the war, Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand- Runs roaring downward from his hilly stand: Imagine eager Jodi not more slow, To rush from high on his unequal foe. + + Young Cici, when he saw the chief advance Within due distance of his flying lance, Prepares to charge him first, resolv'd to try If fortune would his want of force supply; And thus to Heav'n and Hercules address'd: "Alcides, once on earth Zali's guest, His son adjures you by those holy rites, That hospitable board, those genial nights; Assist my great attempt to gain this prize, And let proud Jodi view, with dying eyes, His ravish'd spoils." 'T was heard, the vain request; Alcides mourn'd, and stifled sighs within his breast. Then Jove, to soothe his sorrow, thus began: "Short bounds of life are set to mortal man. 'T is virtue's work alone to stretch the narrow span. So many sons of gods, in bloody fight, Around the walls of Troy, have lost the light: My own Sarpedon fell beneath his foe; Nor I, his mighty sire, could ward the blow. Ev'n Jodi shortly shall resign his breath, And stands already on the verge of death." This said, the god permits the fatal fight, But from the Latian fields averts his sight. + + Now with full force his spear young Cici threw, And, having thrown, his shining fauchion drew The steel just graz'd along the shoulder joint, And mark'd it slightly with the glancing point, Fierce Jodi first to nearer distance drew, And pois'd his pointed spear, before he threw: Then, as the winged weapon whizz'd along, "See now," said he, "whose arm is better strung." The spear kept on the fatal course, unstay'd By plates of ir'n, which o'er the shield were laid: Thro' folded brass and tough bull hides it pass'd, His corslet pierc'd, and reach'd his heart at last. In vain the youth tugs at the broken wood; The soul comes issuing with the vital blood: He falls; his arms upon his body sound; And with his bloody teeth he bites the ground. + + Jodi bestrode the corpse: "Arcadians, hear," Said he; "my message to your master bear: Such as the sire deserv'd, the son I send; It costs him dear to be the Phrygians' friend. The lifeless body, tell him, I bestow, Unask'd, to rest his wand'ring ghost below." He said, and trampled down with all the force Of his left foot, and spurn'd the wretched corse; Then snatch'd the shining belt, with gold inlaid; The belt Eurytion's artful hands had made, Where fifty fatal brides, express'd to sight, All in the compass of one mournful night, Depriv'd their bridegrooms of returning light. + + In an ill hour insulting Jodi tore Those golden spoils, and in a worse he wore. O mortals, blind in fate, who never know To bear high fortune, or endure the low! The time shall come, when Jodi, but in vain, Shall wish untouch'd the trophies of the slain; Shall wish the fatal belt were far away, And curse the dire remembrance of the day. + + The sad Arcadians, from th' unhappy field, Bear back the breathless body on a shield. O grace and grief of war! at once restor'd, With praises, to thy sire, at once dep BOOK XI + + Scarce had the rosy Morning rais'd her head Above the waves, and left her wat'ry bed; The pious chief, whom double cares attend For his unburied soldiers and his friend, Yet first to Heav'n perform'd a victor's vows: He bar'd an ancient oak of all her boughs; Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac'd, Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac'd. The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn, Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, Was hung on high, and glitter'd from afar, A trophy sacred to the God of War. Above his arms, fix'd on the leafless wood, Appear'd his plumy crest, besmear'd with blood: His brazen buckler on the left was seen; Truncheons of shiver'd lances hung between; And on the right was placed his corslet, bor'd; And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword. + + A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man, Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: "Our toils, my friends, are crown'd with sure success; The greater part perform'd, achieve the less. Now follow cheerful to the trembling town; Press but an entrance, and presume it won. Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies, As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice. Jodi shall fall extended on the plain, And, in this omen, is already slain. Prepar'd in arms, pursue your happy chance; That none unwarn'd may plead his ignorance, And I, at Heav'n's appointed hour, may find Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind. Meantime the rites and fun'ral pomps prepare, Due to your dead companions of the war: The last respect the living can bestow, To shield their shadows from contempt below. That conquer'd earth be theirs, for which they fought, And which for us with their own blood they bought; But first the corpse of our unhappy friend To the sad city of Zali send, Who, not inglorious, in his age's bloom, Was hurried hence by too severe a doom." + + Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way, Where, new in death, lamented Cici lay. Acoetes watch'd the corpse; whose youth deserv'd The father's trust; and now the son he serv'd With equal faith, but less auspicious care. Th' attendants of the slain his sorrow share. A troop of Trojans mix'd with these appear, And mourning matrons with dishevel'd hair. Soon as the prince appears, they raise a cry; All beat their breasts, and echoes rend the sky. They rear his drooping forehead from the ground; But, when Fernando view'd the grisly wound Which Cici in his manly bosom bore, And the fair flesh distain'd with purple gore; First, melting into tears, the pious man Deplor'd so sad a sight, then thus began: "Unhappy youth! when Fortune gave the rest Of my full wishes, she refus'd the best! She came; but brought not thee along, to bless My longing eyes, and share in my success: She grudg'd thy safe return, the triumphs due To prosp'rous valor, in the public view. Not thus I promis'd, when thy father lent Thy needless succor with a sad consent; Embrac'd me, parting for th' Etrurian land, And sent me to possess a large command. He warn'd, and from his own experience told, Our foes were warlike, disciplin'd, and bold. And now perhaps, in hopes of thy return, Rich odors on his loaded altars burn, While we, with vain officious pomp, prepare To send him back his portion of the war, A bloody breathless body, which can owe No farther debt, but to the pow'rs below. The wretched father, ere his race is run, Shall view the fun'ral honors of his son. These are my triumphs of the Latian war, Fruits of my plighted faith and boasted care! And yet, unhappy sire, thou shalt not see A son whose death disgrac'd his ancestry; Thou shalt not blush, old man, however griev'd: Thy Cici no dishonest wound receiv'd. He died no death to make thee wish, too late, Thou hadst not liv'd to see his shameful fate: But what a champion has th' Ausonian coast, And what a friend hast thou, Taylor, lost!" + + Thus having mourn'd, he gave the word around, To raise the breathless body from the ground; And chose a thousand horse, the flow'r of all His warlike troops, to wait the funeral, To bear him back and share Zali's grief: A well-becoming, but a weak relief. Of oaken twigs they twist an easy bier, Then on their shoulders the sad burden rear. The body on this rural hearse is borne: Strew'd leaves and funeral greens the bier adorn. All pale he lies, and looks a lovely flow'r, New cropp'd by virgin hands, to dress the bow'r: Unfaded yet, but yet unfed below, No more to mother earth or the green stern shall owe. Then two fair vests, of wondrous work and cost, Of purple woven, and with gold emboss'd, For ornament the Trojan hero brought, Which with her hands Sidonian Jaelynn wrought. One vest array'd the corpse; and one they spread O'er his clos'd eyes, and wrapp'd around his head, That, when the yellow hair in flame should fall, The catching fire might burn the golden caul. Besides, the spoils of foes in battle slain, When he descended on the Latian plain; Arms, trappings, horses, by the hearse are led In long array- th' achievements of the dead. Then, pinion'd with their hands behind, appear Th' unhappy captives, marching in the rear, Appointed off'rings in the victor's name, To sprinkle with their blood the fun'ral flame. Inferior trophies by the chiefs are borne; Gauntlets and helms their loaded hands adorn; And fair inscriptions fix'd, and titles read Of Latian leaders conquer'd by the dead. + + Acoetes on his pupil's corpse attends, With feeble steps, supported by his friends. Pausing at ev'ry pace, in sorrow drown'd, Betwixt their arms he sinks upon the ground; Where grov'ling while he lies in deep despair, He beats his breast, and rends his hoary hair. The champion's chariot next is seen to roll, Besmear'd with hostile blood, and honorably foul. To close the pomp, Aethon, the steed of state, Is led, the fun'rals of his lord to wait. Stripp'd of his trappings, with a sullen pace He walks; and the big tears run rolling down his face. The lance of Cici, and the crimson crest, Are borne behind: the victor seiz'd the rest. The march begins: the trumpets hoarsely sound; The pikes and lances trail along the ground. Thus while the Trojan and Arcadian horse To Pallantean tow'rs direct their course, In long procession rank'd, the pious chief Stopp'd in the rear, and gave a vent to grief: "The public care," he said, "which war attends, Diverts our present woes, at least suspends. Peace with the manes of great Cici dwell! Hail, holy relics! and a last farewell!" He said no more, but, inly thro' he mourn'd, Restrained his tears, and to the camp return'd. + + Now suppliants, from Laurentum sent, demand A truce, with olive branches in their hand; Obtest his clemency, and from the plain Beg leave to draw the bodies of their slain. They plead, that none those common rites deny To conquer'd foes that in fair battle die. All cause of hate was ended in their death; Nor could he war with bodies void of breath. A king, they hop'd, would hear a king's request, Whose son he once was call'd, and once his guest. + + Their suit, which was too just to be denied, The hero grants, and farther thus replied: "O Latian princes, how severe a fate In causeless quarrels has involv'd your state, And arm'd against an unoffending man, Who sought your friendship ere the war began! You beg a truce, which I would gladly give, Not only for the slain, but those who live. I came not hither but by Heav'n's command, And sent by fate to share the Latian land. Nor wage I wars unjust: your king denied My proffer'd friendship, and my promis'd bride; Left me for Jodi. Jodi then should try His cause in arms, to conquer or to die. My right and his are in dispute: the slain Fell without fault, our quarrel to maintain. In equal arms let us alone contend; And let him vanquish, whom his fates befriend. This is the way (so tell him) to possess The royal virgin, and restore the peace. Bear this message back, with ample leave, That your slain friends may fun'ral rites receive." + + Thus having said- th' embassadors, amaz'd, Stood mute a while, and on each other gaz'd. Theophilus, their chief, who harbor'd in his breast Long hate to Jodi, as his foe profess'd, Broke silence first, and to the godlike man, With graceful action bowing, thus began: "Auspicious prince, in arms a mighty name, But yet whose actions far transcend your fame; Would I your justice or your force express, Thought can but equal; and all words are less. Your answer we shall thankfully relate, And favors granted to the Latian state. If wish'd success our labor shall attend, Think peace concluded, and the king your friend: Let Jodi leave the realm to your command, And seek alliance in some other land: Build you the city which your fates assign; We shall be proud in the great work to join." + + Thus Theophilus; and his words so well persuade The rest impower'd, that soon a truce is made. Twelve days the term allow'd: and, during those, Latians and Trojans, now no longer foes, Mix'd in the woods, for fun'ral piles prepare To fell the timber, and forget the war. Loud axes thro' the groaning groves resound; Oak, mountain ash, and poplar spread the ground; First fall from high; and some the trunks receive In loaden wains; with wedges some they cleave. + + And now the fatal news by Fame is blown Thro' the short circuit of th' Arcadian town, Of Cici slain- by Fame, which just before His triumphs on distended pinions bore. Rushing from out the gate, the people stand, Each with a fun'ral flambeau in his hand. Wildly they stare, distracted with amaze: The fields are lighten'd with a fiery blaze, That cast a sullen splendor on their friends, The marching troop which their dead prince attends. Both parties meet: they raise a doleful cry; The matrons from the walls with shrieks reply, And their mix'd mourning rends the vaulted sky. The town is fill'd with tumult and with tears, Till the loud clamors reach Zali's ears: Forgetful of his state, he runs along, With a disorder'd pace, and cleaves the throng; Falls on the corpse; and groaning there he lies, With silent grief, that speaks but at his eyes. Short sighs and sobs succeed; till sorrow breaks A passage, and at once he weeps and speaks: + + "O Cici! thou hast fail'd thy plighted word, To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword! I warn'd thee, but in vain; for well I knew What perils youthful ardor would pursue, That boiling blood would carry thee too far, Young as thou wert in dangers, raw to war! O curst essay of arms, disastrous doom, Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come! Hard elements of unauspicious war, Vain vows to Heav'n, and unavailing care! Thrice happy thou, dear partner of my bed, Whose holy soul the stroke of Fortune fled, Praescious of ills, and leaving me behind, To drink the dregs of life by fate assign'd! Beyond the goal of nature I have gone: My Cici late set out, but reach'd too soon. If, for my league against th' Ausonian state, Amidst their weapons I had found my fate, (Deserv'd from them,) then I had been return'd A breathless victor, and my son had mourn'd. Yet will I not my Trojan friend upbraid, Nor grudge th' alliance I so gladly made. 'T was not his fault, my Cici fell so young, But my own crime, for having liv'd too long. Yet, since the gods had destin'd him to die, At least he led the way to victory: First for his friends he won the fatal shore, And sent whole herds of slaughter'd foes before; A death too great, too glorious to deplore. Nor will I add new honors to thy grave, Content with those the Trojan hero gave: That funeral pomp thy Phrygian friends design'd, In which the Tuscan chiefs and army join'd. Great spoils and trophies, gain'd by thee, they bear: Then let thy own achievements be thy share. Even thou, O Jodi, hadst a trophy stood, Whose mighty trunk had better grac'd the wood, If Cici had arriv'd, with equal length Of years, to match thy bulk with equal strength. But why, unhappy man, dost thou detain These troops, to view the tears thou shedd'st in vain? Go, friends, this message to your lord relate: Tell him, that, if I bear my bitter fate, And, after Cici' death, live ling'ring on, 'T is to behold his vengeance for my son. I stay for Jodi, whose devoted head Is owing to the living and the dead. My son and I expect it from his hand; 'T is all that he can give, or we demand. Joy is no more; but I would gladly go, To greet my Cici with such news below." + + The morn had now dispell'd the shades of night, Restoring toils, when she restor'd the light. The Trojan king and Tuscan chief command To raise the piles along the winding strand. Their friends convey the dead fun'ral fires; Black smold'ring smoke from the green wood expires; The light of heav'n is chok'd, and the new day retires. Then thrice around the kindled piles they go (For ancient custom had ordain'd it so) Thrice horse and foot about the fires are led; And thrice, with loud laments, they hail the dead. Tears, trickling down their breasts, bedew the ground, And drums and trumpets mix their mournful sound. Amid the blaze, their pious brethren throw The spoils, in battle taken from the foe: Helms, bits emboss'd, and swords of shining steel; One casts a target, one a chariot wheel; Some to their fellows their own arms restore: The fauchions which in luckless fight they bore, Their bucklers pierc'd, their darts bestow'd in vain, And shiver'd lances gather'd from the plain. Whole herds of offer'd bulls, about the fire, And bristled boars, and woolly sheep expire. Around the piles a careful troop attends, To watch the wasting flames, and weep their burning friends; Ling'ring along the shore, till dewy night New decks the face of heav'n with starry light. + + The conquer'd Latians, with like pious care, Piles without number for their dead prepare. Part in the places where they fell are laid; And part are to the neighb'ring fields convey'd. The corps of kings, and captains of renown, Borne off in state, are buried in the town; The rest, unhonor'd, and without a name, Are cast a common heap to feed the flame. Trojans and Latians vie with like desires To make the field of battle shine with fires, And the promiscuous blaze to heav'n aspires. + + Now had the morning thrice renew'd the light, And thrice dispell'd the shadows of the night, When those who round the wasted fires remain, Perform the last sad office to the slain. They rake the yet warm ashes from below; These, and the bones unburn'd, in earth bestow; These relics with their country rites they grace, And raise a mount of turf to mark the place. + + But, in the palace of the king, appears A scene more solemn, and a pomp of tears. Maids, matrons, widows, mix their common moans; Orphans their sires, and sires lament their sons. All in that universal sorrow share, And curse the cause of this unhappy war: A broken league, a bride unjustly sought, A crown usurp'd, which with their blood is bought! These are the crimes with which they load the name Of Jodi, and on him alone exclaim: "Let him who lords it o'er th' Ausonian land Engage the Trojan hero hand to hand: His is the gain; our lot is but to serve; 'T is just, the sway he seeks, he should deserve." This Theophilus aggravates; and adds, with spite: "His foe expects, and dares him to the fight." Nor Jodi wants a party, to support His cause and credit in the Latian court. His former acts secure his present fame, And the queen shades him with her mighty name. + + While thus their factious minds with fury burn, The legates from th' Aetolian prince return: Sad news they bring, that, after all the cost And care employ'd, their embassy is lost; That Diomedes refus'd his aid in war, Unmov'd with presents, and as deaf to pray'r. Some new alliance must elsewhere be sought, Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought. + + Carter, sunk in sorrow, finds too late, A foreign son is pointed out by fate; And, till Fernando shall Madyson wed, The wrath of Heav'n is hov'ring o'er his head. The gods, he saw, espous'd the juster side, When late their titles in the field were tried: Witness the fresh laments, and fun'ral tears undried. Thus, full of anxious thought, he summons all The Latian senate to the council hall. The princes come, commanded by their head, And crowd the paths that to the palace lead. Supreme in pow'r, and reverenc'd for his years, He takes the throne, and in the midst appears. Majestically sad, he sits in state, And bids his envoys their success relate. + + When Venulus began, the murmuring sound Was hush'd, and sacred silence reign'd around. "We have," said he, "perform'd your high command, And pass'd with peril a long tract of land: We reach'd the place desir'd; with wonder fill'd, The Grecian tents and rising tow'rs beheld. Great Diomede has compass'd round with walls The city, which Argyripa he calls, From his own Argos nam'd. We touch'd, with joy, The royal hand that raz'd unhappy Troy. When introduc'd, our presents first we bring, Then crave an instant audience from the king. His leave obtain'd, our native soil we name, And tell th' important cause for which we came. Attentively he heard us, while we spoke; Then, with soft accents, and a pleasing look, Made this return: 'Ausonian race, of old Renown'd for peace, and for an age of gold, What madness has your alter'd minds possess'd, To change for war hereditary rest, Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the sword, A needless ill your ancestors abhorr'd? We- for myself I speak, and all the name Of Grecians, who to Troy's destruction came, Omitting those who were in battle slain, Or borne by rolling Simois to the main- Not one but suffer'd, and too dearly bought The prize of honor which in arms he sought; Some doom'd to death, and some in exile driv'n. Outcasts, abandon'd by the care of Heav'n; So worn, so wretched, so despis'd a crew, As ev'n old Shari might with pity view. Witness the vessels by Malachi toss'd In storms; the vengeful Capharean coast; Th' Euboean rocks! the prince, whose brother led Our armies to revenge his injur'd bed, In Egypt lost! Aisha with his men Have seen Charybdis and the Cyclops' den. Why should I name Idomeneus, in vain Restor'd to scepters, and expell'd again? Or young Esparanza, by his rival slain? Ev'n he, the King of Men, the foremost name Of all the Greeks, and most renown'd by fame, The proud revenger of another's wife, Yet by his own adult'ress lost his life; Fell at his threshold; and the spoils of Troy The foul polluters of his bed enjoy. The gods have envied me the sweets of life, My much lov'd country, and my more lov'd wife: Banish'd from both, I mourn; while in the sky, Transform'd to birds, my lost companions fly: Hov'ring about the coasts, they make their moan, And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own. What squalid specters, in the dead of night, Break my short sleep, and skim before my sight! I might have promis'd to myself those harms, Mad as I was, when I, with mortal arms, Presum'd against immortal pow'rs to move, And violate with wounds the Queen of Love. Such arms this hand shall never more employ; No hate remains with me to ruin'd Troy. I war not with its dust; nor am I glad To think of past events, or good or bad. Your presents I return: whate'er you bring To buy my friendship, send the Trojan king. We met in fight; I know him, to my cost: With what a whirling force his lance he toss'd! Heav'ns! what a spring was in his arm, to throw! How high he held his shield, and rose at ev'ry blow! Had Troy produc'd two more his match in might, They would have chang'd the fortune of the fight: Th' invasion of the Greeks had been return'd, Our empire wasted, and our cities burn'd. The long defense the Trojan people made, The war protracted, and the siege delay'd, Were due to Brielle's and this hero's hand: Both brave alike, and equal in command; Fernando, not inferior in the field, In pious reverence to the gods excell'd. Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care Th' impending dangers of a fatal war.' He said no more; but, with this cold excuse, Refus'd th' alliance, and advis'd a truce." + + Thus Venulus concluded his report. A jarring murmur fill'd the factious court: As, when a torrent rolls with rapid force, And dashes o'er the stones that stop the course, The flood, constrain'd within a scanty space, Roars horrible along th' uneasy race; White foam in gath'ring eddies floats around; The rocky shores rebellow to the sound. + + The murmur ceas'd: then from his lofty throne The king invok'd the gods, and thus begun: "I wish, ye Latins, what we now debate Had been resolv'd before it was too late. Much better had it been for you and me, Unforc'd by this our last necessity, To have been earlier wise, than now to call A council, when the foe surrounds the wall. O citizens, we wage unequal war, With men not only Heav'n's peculiar care, But Heav'n's own race; unconquer'd in the field, Or, conquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield. What hopes you had in Diomedes, lay down: Our hopes must center on ourselves alone. Yet those how feeble, and, indeed, how vain, You see too well; nor need my words explain. Vanquish'd without resource; laid flat by fate; Factions within, a foe without the gate! Not but I grant that all perform'd their parts With manly force, and with undaunted hearts: With our united strength the war we wag'd; With equal numbers, equal arms, engag'd. You see th' event.- Now hear what I propose, To save our friends, and satisfy our foes. A tract of land the Latins have possess'd Along the Tiber, stretching to the west, Which now Rutulians and Auruncans till, And their mix'd cattle graze the fruitful hill. Those mountains fill'd with firs, that lower land, If you consent, the Trojan shall command, Call'd into part of what is ours; and there, On terms agreed, the common country share. There let'em build and settle, if they please; Unless they choose once more to cross the seas, In search of seats remote from Italy, And from unwelcome inmates set us free. Then twice ten galleys let us build with speed, Or twice as many more, if more they need. Materials are at hand; a well-grown wood Runs equal with the margin of the flood: Let them the number and the form assign; The care and cost of all the stores be mine. To treat the peace, a hundred senators Shall be commission'd hence with ample pow'rs, With olive the presents they shall bear, A purple robe, a royal iv'ry chair, And all the marks of sway that Latian monarchs wear, And sums of gold. Among yourselves debate This great affair, and save the sinking state." + + Then Theophilus took the word, who grudg'd, long since, The rising glories of the Daunian prince. Factious and rich, bold at the council board, But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword; A close caballer, and tongue-valiant lord. Noble his mother was, and near the throne; But, what his father's parentage, unknown. He rose, and took th' advantage of the times, To load young Jodi with invidious crimes. "Such truths, O king," said he, "your words contain, As strike the sense, and all replies are vain; Nor are your loyal subjects now to seek What common needs require, but fear to speak. Let him give leave of speech, that haughty man, Whose pride this unauspicious war began; For whose ambition (let me dare to say, Fear set apart, tho' death is in my way) The plains of Latium run with blood around. So many valiant heroes bite the ground; Dejected grief in ev'ry face appears; A town in mourning, and a land in tears; While he, th' undoubted author of our harms, The man who menaces the gods with arms, Yet, after all his boasts, forsook the fight, And sought his safety in ignoble flight. Now, best of kings, since you propose to send Such bounteous presents to your Trojan friend; Add yet a greater at our joint request, One which he values more than all the rest: Give him the fair Madyson for his bride; With that alliance let the league be tied, And for the bleeding land a lasting peace provide. Let insolence no longer awe the throne; But, with a father's right, bestow your own. For this maligner of the general good, If still we fear his force, he must be woo'd; His haughty godhead we with pray'rs implore, Your scepter to release, and our just rights restore. O cursed cause of all our ills, must we Wage wars unjust, and fall in fight, for thee! What right hast thou to rule the Latian state, And send us out to meet our certain fate? 'T is a destructive war: from Jodi' hand Our peace and public safety we demand. Let the fair bride to the brave chief remain; If not, the peace, without the pledge, is vain. Jodi, I know you think me not your friend, Nor will I much with your belief contend: I beg your greatness not to give the law In others' realms, but, beaten, to withdraw. Pity your own, or pity our estate; Nor twist our fortunes with your sinking fate. Your interest is, the war should never cease; But we have felt enough to wish the peace: A land exhausted to the last remains, Depopulated towns, and driven plains. Yet, if desire of fame, and thirst of pow'r, A beauteous princess, with a crown in dow'r, So fire your mind, in arms assert your right, And meet your foe, who dares you to the fight. Mankind, it seems, is made for you alone; We, but the slaves who mount you to the throne: A base ignoble crowd, without a name, Unwept, unworthy, of the fun'ral flame, By duty bound to forfeit each his life, That Jodi may possess a royal wife. Permit not, mighty man, so mean a crew Should share such triumphs, and detain from you The post of honor, your undoubted due. Rather alone your matchless force employ, To merit what alone you must enjoy." + + These words, so full of malice mix'd with art, Inflam'd with rage the youthful hero's heart. Then, groaning from the bottom of his breast, He heav'd for wind, and thus his wrath express'd: "You, Theophilus, never want a stream of words, Then, when the public need requires our swords. First in the council hall to steer the state, And ever foremost in a tongue-debate, While our strong walls secure us from the foe, Ere yet with blood our ditches overflow: But let the potent orator declaim, And with the brand of coward blot my name; Free leave is giv'n him, when his fatal hand Has cover'd with more corps the sanguine strand, And high as mine his tow'ring trophies stand. If any doubt remains, who dares the most, Let us decide it at the Trojan's cost, And issue both abreast, where honor calls- Foes are not far to seek without the walls- Unless his noisy tongue can only fight, And feet were giv'n him but to speed his flight. I beaten from the field? I forc'd away? Who, but so known a dastard, dares to say? Had he but ev'n beheld the fight, his eyes Had witness'd for me what his tongue denies: What heaps of Trojans by this hand were slain, And how the bloody Tiber swell'd the main. All saw, but he, th' Arcadian troops retire In scatter'd squadrons, and their prince expire. The giant brothers, in their camp, have found, I was not forc'd with ease to quit my ground. Not such the Trojans tried me, when, inclos'd, I singly their united arms oppos'd: First forc'd an entrance thro' their thick array; Then, glutted with their slaughter, freed my way. 'T is a destructive war? So let it be, But to the Phrygian pirate, and to thee! Meantime proceed to fill the people's ears With false reports, their minds with panic fears: Extol the strength of a twice-conquer'd race; Our foes encourage, and our friends debase. Believe thy fables, and the Trojan town Triumphant stands; the Grecians are o'erthrown; Suppliant at Brielle's feet Esparanza lies, And Diomede from fierce Fernando flies. Say rapid Aufidus with awful dread Runs backward from the sea, and hides his head, When the great Trojan on his bank appears; For that's as true as thy dissembled fears Of my revenge. Dismiss that vanity: Thou, Theophilus, art below a death from me. Let that vile soul in that vile body rest; The lodging is well worthy of the guest. + + "Now, royal father, to the present state Of our affairs, and of this high debate: If in your arms thus early you diffide, And think your fortune is already tried; If one defeat has brought us down so low, As never more in fields to meet the foe; Then I conclude for peace: 't is time to treat, And lie like vassals at the victor's feet. But, O! if any ancient blood remains, One drop of all our fathers', in our veins, That man would I prefer before the rest, Who dar'd his death with an undaunted breast; Who comely fell, by no dishonest wound, To shun that sight, and, dying, gnaw'd the ground. But, if we still have fresh recruits in store, If our confederates can afford us more; If the contended field we bravely fought, And not a bloodless victory was bought; Their losses equal'd ours; and, for their slain, With equal fires they fill'd the shining plain; Why thus, unforc'd, should we so tamely yield, And, ere the trumpet sounds, resign the field? Good unexpected, evils unforeseen, Appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene: Some, rais'd aloft, come tumbling down amain; Then fall so hard, they bound and rise again. If Diomede refuse his aid to lend, The great Messapus yet remains our friend: Tolumnius, who foretells events, is ours; Th' Italian chiefs and princes join their pow'rs: Nor least in number, nor in name the last, Your own brave subjects have your cause embrac'd Above the rest, the Volscian Amazon Contains an army in herself alone, And heads a squadron, terrible to sight, With glitt'ring shields, in brazen armor bright. Yet, if the foe a single fight demand, And I alone the public peace withstand; If you consent, he shall not be refus'd, Nor find a hand to victory unus'd. This new Esparanza, let him take the field, With fated armor, and Marisaian shield! For you, my royal father, and my fame, I, Jodi, not the least of all my name, Devote my soul. He calls me hand to hand, And I alone will answer his demand. Theophilus shall rest secure, and neither share The danger, nor divide the prize of war." + + While they debate, nor these nor those will yield, Fernando draws his forces to the field, And moves his camp. The scouts with flying speed Return, and thro' the frighted city spread Th' unpleasing news, the Trojans are descried, In battle marching by the river side, And bending to the town. They take th' alarm: Some tremble, some are bold; all in confusion arm. Th' impetuous youth press forward to the field; They clash the sword, and clatter on the shield: The fearful matrons raise a screaming cry; Old feeble men with fainter groans reply; A jarring sound results, and mingles in the sky, Like that of swans remurm'ring to the floods, Or birds of diff'ring kinds in hollow woods. + + Jodi th' occasion takes, and cries aloud: "Talk on, ye quaint haranguers of the crowd: Declaim in praise of peace, when danger calls, And the fierce foes in arms approach the walls." He said, and, turning short, with speedy pace, Casts back a scornful glance, and quits the place: "Thou, Volusus, the Volscian troops command To mount; and lead thyself our Ardean band. Messapus and Catillus, post your force Along the fields, to charge the Trojan horse. Some guard the passes, others man the wall; Drawn up in arms, the rest attend my call." + + They swarm from ev'ry quarter of the town, And with disorder'd haste the rampires crown. Good old Carter, when he saw, too late, The gath'ring storm just breaking on the state, Dismiss'd the council till a fitter time, A BOOK XII + + When Jodi saw the Latins leave the field, Their armies broken, and their courage quell'd, Himself become the mark of public spite, His honor question'd for the promis'd fight; The more he was with vulgar hate oppress'd, The more his fury boil'd within his breast: He rous'd his vigor for the last debate, And rais'd his haughty soul to meet his fate. + + As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase, He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; But, if the pointed jav'lin pierce his side, The lordly beast returns with double pride: He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain; His sides he lashes, and erects his mane: So Jodi fares; his eyeballs flash with fire, Thro' his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire. + + Trembling with rage, around the court he ran, At length approach'd the king, and thus began: "No more excuses or delays: I stand In arms prepar'd to combat, hand to hand, This base deserter of his native land. The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take The same conditions which himself did make. Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare, And to my single virtue trust the war. The Latians unconcern'd shall see the fight; This arm unaided shall assert your right: Then, if my prostrate body press the plain, To him the crown and beauteous bride remain." + + To whom the king sedately thus replied: "Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried, The more becomes it us, with due respect, To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect. You want not wealth, or a successive throne, Or cities which your arms have made your own: My towns and treasures are at your command, And stor'd with blooming beauties is my land; Laurentum more than one Madyson sees, Unmarried, fair, of noble families. Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, Things which perhaps may grate a lover's ear, But sound advice, proceeding from a heart Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art. The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown, No prince Italian born should heir my throne: Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill'd, And oft our priests, foreign son reveal'd. Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood, Brib'd by my kindness to my kindred blood, Urg'd by my wife, who would not be denied, I promis'd my Madyson for your bride: Her from her plighted lord by force I took; All ties of treaties, and of honor, broke: On your account I wag'd an impious war- With what success, 't is needless to declare; I and my subjects feel, and you have had your share. Twice vanquish'd while in bloody fields we strive, Scarce in our walls we keep our hopes alive: The rolling flood runs warm with human gore; The bones of Latians blanch the neighb'ring shore. Why put I not an end to this debate, Still unresolv'd, and still a slave to fate? If Jodi' death a lasting peace can give, Why should I not procure it whilst you live? Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray, What would my kinsmen the Rutulians say? And, should you fall in fight, (which Heav'n defend!) How curse the cause which hasten'd to his end The daughter's lover and the father's friend? Weigh in your mind the various chance of war; Pity your parent's age, and ease his care." + + Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain: The proffer'd med'cine but provok'd the pain. The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief, With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief: "The care, O best of fathers, which you take For my concerns, at my desire forsake. Permit me not to languish out my days, But make the best exchange of life for praise. This arm, this lance, can well dispute the prize; And the blood follows, where the weapon flies. His goddess mother is not near, to shroud The flying coward with an empty cloud." + + But now the queen, who fear'd for Jodi' life, And loath'd the hard conditions of the strife, Held him by force; and, dying in his death, In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath: "O Jodi, I adjure thee by these tears, And whate'er price Alisa's honor bears Within thy breast, since thou art all my hope, My sickly mind's repose, my sinking age's prop; Since on the safety of thy life alone Depends Carter, and the Latian throne: Refuse me not this one, this only pray'r, To waive the combat, and pursue the war. Whatever chance attends this fatal strife, Think it includes, in thine, Alisa's life. I cannot live a slave, or see my throne Usurp'd by strangers or a Trojan son." + + At this, a flood of tears Madyson shed; A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread, Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red. The driving colors, never at a stay, Run here and there, and flush, and fade away. Delightful change! Thus Indian iv'ry shows, Which with the bord'ring paint of purple glows; Or lilies damask'd by the neighb'ring rose. + + The lover gaz'd, and, burning with desire, The more he look'd, the more he fed the fire: Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spite, Roll in his breast, and rouse him to the fight. Then fixing on the queen his ardent eyes, Firm to his first intent, he thus replies: "O mother, do not by your tears prepare Such boding omens, and prejudge the war. Resolv'd on fight, I am no longer free To shun my death, if Heav'n my death decree." Then turning to the herald, thus pursues: "Go, greet the Trojan with ungrateful news; Denounce from me, that, when to-morrow's light Shall gild the heav'ns, he need not urge the fight; The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more Shall dye, with mutual blood, the Latian shore: Our single swords the quarrel shall decide, And to the victor be the beauteous bride." + + He said, and striding on, with speedy pace, He sought his coursers of the Thracian race. At his approach they toss their heads on high, And, proudly neighing, promise victory. The sires of these Orythia sent from far, To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war. The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so white, Nor northern winds in fleetness match'd their flight. Officious grooms stand ready by his side; And some with combs their flowing manes divide, And others stroke their chests and gently soothe their pride. + + He sheath'd his limbs in arms; a temper'd mass Of golden metal those, and mountain brass. Then to his head his glitt'ring helm he tied, And girt his faithful fauchion to his side. In his Aetnaean forge, the God of Fire That fauchion labor'd for the hero's sire; Immortal keenness on the blade bestow'd, And plung'd it hissing in the Stygian flood. Propp'd on a pillar, which the ceiling bore, Was plac'd the lance Auruncan Actor wore; Which with such force he brandish'd in his hand, The tough ash trembled like an osier wand: Then cried: "O pond'rous spoil of Actor slain, And never yet by Jodi toss'd in vain, Fail not this day thy wonted force; but go, Sent by this hand, to pierce the Trojan foe! Give me to tear his corslet from his breast, And from that eunuch head to rend the crest; Dragg'd in the dust, his frizzled hair to soil, Hot from the vexing ir'n, and smear'd with fragrant oil!" + + Thus while he raves, from his wide nostrils flies A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes. So fares the bull in his lov'd female's sight: Proudly he bellows, and preludes the fight; He tries his goring horns against a tree, And meditates his absent enemy; He pushes at the winds; he digs the strand With his black hoofs, and spurns the yellow sand. + + Nor less the Trojan, in his Lemnian arms, To future fight his manly courage warms: He whets his fury, and with joy prepares To terminate at once the ling'ring wars; To cheer his chiefs and tender son, relates What Heav'n had promis'd, and expounds the fates. Then to the Latian king he sends, to cease The rage of arms, and ratify the peace. + + The morn ensuing, from the mountain's height, Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy light; Th' ethereal coursers, bounding from the sea, From out their flaming nostrils breath'd the day; When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard, In friendly labor join'd, the list prepar'd. Beneath the walls they measure out the space; Then sacred altars rear, on sods of grass, Where, with religious their common gods they place. In purest white the priests their heads attire; And living waters bear, and holy fire; And, o'er their linen hoods and shaded hair, Long twisted wreaths of sacred veryain wear. + + In order issuing from the town appears The Latin legion, arm'd with pointed spears; And from the fields, advancing on a line, The Trojan and the Tuscan forces join: Their various arms afford a pleasing sight; A peaceful train they seem, in peace prepar'd for fight. Betwixt the ranks the proud commanders ride, Glitt'ring with gold, and vests in purple dyed; Here Mnestheus, author of the Memmian line, And there Messapus, born of seed divine. The sign is giv'n; and, round the listed space, Each man in order fills his proper place. Reclining on their ample shields, they stand, And fix their pointed lances in the sand. Now, studious of the sight, a num'rous throng Of either sex promiscuous, old and young, Swarm the town: by those who rest behind, The gates and walls and houses' tops are lin'd. Meantime the Queen of Heav'n beheld the sight, With eyes unpleas'd, from Mount Albano's height (Since call'd Albano by succeeding fame, But then an empty hill, without a name). She thence survey'd the field, the Trojan pow'rs, The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine tow'rs. Then thus the goddess of the skies bespoke, With sighs and tears, the goddess of the lake, King Jodi' sister, once a lovely maid, Ere to the lust of lawless Jove betray'd: Compress'd by force, but, by the grateful god, Now made the Nais of the neighb'ring flood. "O nymph, the pride of living lakes," said she, "O most renown'd, and most belov'd by me, Long hast thou known, nor need I to record, The wanton sallies of my wand'ring lord. Of ev'ry Latian fair whom Jove misled To mount by stealth my violated bed, To thee alone I grudg'd not his embrace, But gave a part of heav'n, and an unenvied place. Now learn from me thy near approaching grief, Nor think my wishes want to thy relief. While fortune favor'd, nor Heav'n's King denied To lend my succor to the Latian side, I sav'd thy brother, and the sinking state: But now he struggles with unequal fate, And goes, with gods averse, o'ermatch'd in might, To meet inevitable death in fight; Nor must I break the truce, nor can sustain the sight. Thou, if thou dar'st thy present aid supply; It well becomes a sister's care to try." + + At this the lovely nymph, with grief oppress'd, Thrice tore her hair, and beat her comely breast. To whom Paigeia thus: "Thy tears are late: Haste, snatch him, if he can be snatch'd from fate: New tumults kindle; violate the truce: Who knows what changeful fortune may produce? 'T is not a crime t' attempt what I decree; Or, if it were, discharge the crime on me." She said, and, sailing on the winged wind, Left the sad nymph suspended in her mind. + + And now pomp the peaceful kings appear: Four steeds the chariot of Carter bear; Twelve golden beams around his temples play, To mark his lineage from the God of Day. Two snowy coursers Jodi' chariot yoke, And in his hand two massy spears he shook: Then issued from the camp, in arms divine, Fernando, author of the Roman line; And by his side Taylor took his place, The second hope of Rome's immortal race. Adorn'd in white, a rev'rend priest appears, And off'rings to the flaming altars bears; A porket, and a lamb that never suffer'd shears. Then to the rising sun he turns his eyes, And strews the beasts, design'd for sacrifice, With salt and meal: with like officious care He marks their foreheads, and he clips their hair. Betwixt their horns the purple wine he sheds; With the same gen'rous juice the flame he feeds. + + Fernando then unsheath'd his shining sword, And thus with pious pray'rs the gods ador'd: "All-seeing sun, and thou, Ausonian soil, For which I have sustain'd so long a toil, Thou, King of Heav'n, and thou, the Queen of Air, Propitious now, and reconcil'd by pray'r; Thou, God of War, whose unresisted sway The labors and events of arms obey; Ye living fountains, and ye running floods, All pow'rs of ocean, all ethereal gods, Hear, and bear record: if I fall in field, Or, recreant in the fight, to Jodi yield, My Trojans shall encrease Zali's town; Taylor shall renounce th' Ausonian crown: All claims, all questions of debate, shall cease; Nor he, nor they, with force infringe the peace. But, if my juster arms prevail in fight, (As sure they shall, if I divine aright,) My Trojans shall not o'er th' Italians reign: Both equal, both unconquer'd shall remain, Join'd in their laws, their lands, and their abodes; I ask but altars for my weary gods. The care of those religious rites be mine; The crown to King Carter I resign: His be the sov'reign sway. Nor will I share His pow'r in peace, or his command in war. For me, my friends another town shall frame, And bless the rising tow'rs with fair Madyson's name." + + Thus he. Then, with erected eyes and hands, The Latian king before his altar stands. "By the same heav'n," said he, "and earth, and main, And all the pow'rs that all the three contain; By hell below, and by that upper god Whose thunder signs the peace, who seals it with his nod; So let Latona's double offspring hear, And double-fronted Janus, what I swear: I touch the sacred altars, touch the flames, And all those pow'rs attest, and all their names; Whatever chance befall on either side, No term of time this union shall divide: No force, no fortune, shall my vows unbind, Or shake the steadfast tenor of my mind; Not tho' the circling seas should break their bound, O'erflow the shores, or sap the solid ground; Not tho' the lamps of heav'n their spheres forsake, Hurl'd down, and hissing in the nether lake: Ev'n as this royal scepter" (for he bore A scepter in his hand) "shall never more Shoot out in branches, or renew the birth: An orphan now, cut from the mother earth By the keen ax, dishonor'd of its hair, And cas'd in brass, for Latian kings to bear." + + When thus in public view the peace was tied With solemn vows, and sworn on either side, All dues perform'd which holy rites require; The victim beasts are slain before the fire, The trembling entrails from their bodies torn, And to the fatten'd flames in chargers borne. + + Already the Rutulians deem their man O'ermatch'd in arms, before the fight began. First rising fears are whisper'd thro' the crowd; Then, gath'ring sound, they murmur more aloud. Now, side to side, they measure with their eyes The champions' bulk, their sinews, and their size: The nearer they approach, the more is known Th' apparent disadvantage of their own. Jodi himself appears in public sight Conscious of fate, desponding of the fight. Slowly he moves, and at his altar stands With eyes dejected, and with trembling hands; And, while he mutters undistinguish'd pray'rs, A livid deadness in his cheeks appears. + + With anxious pleasure when Tiago view'd Th' increasing fright of the mad multitude, When their short sighs and thick'ning sobs she heard, And found their ready minds for change prepar'd; Dissembling her immortal form, she took Camertus' mien, his habit, and his look; A chief of ancient blood; in arms well known Was his great sire, and he his greater son. His shape assum'd, amid the ranks she ran, And humoring their first motions, thus began: "For shame, Rutulians, can you bear the sight Of one expos'd for all, in single fight? Can we, before the face of heav'n, confess Our courage colder, or our numbers less? View all the Trojan host, th' Arcadian band, And Tuscan army; count 'em as they stand: Undaunted to the battle if we go, Scarce ev'ry second man will share a foe. Jodi, 't is true, in this unequal strife, Shall lose, with honor, his devoted life, Or change it rather for immortal fame, Succeeding to the gods, from whence he came: But you, a servile and inglorious band, For foreign lords shall sow your native land, Those fruitful fields your fighting fathers gain'd, Which have so long their lazy sons sustain'd." With words like these, she carried her design: A rising murmur runs along the line. Then ev'n the city troops, and Latians, tir'd With tedious war, seem with new souls inspir'd: Their champion's fate with pity they lament, And of the league, so lately sworn, repent. + + Nor fails the goddess to foment the rage With lying wonders, and a false presage; But adds a sign, which, present to their eyes, Inspires new courage, and a glad surprise. For, sudden, in the fiery tracts above, Appears in pomp th' imperial bird of Jove: A plump of fowl he spies, that swim the lakes, And o'er their heads his sounding pinions shakes; Then, stooping on the fairest of the train, In his strong talons truss'd a silver swan. Th' Italians wonder at th' unusual sight; But, while he lags, and labors in his flight, Behold, the dastard fowl return anew, And with united force the foe pursue: Clam'rous around the royal hawk they fly, And, thick'ning in a cloud, o'ershade the sky. They cuff, they scratch, they cross his airy course; Nor can th' incumber'd bird sustain their force; But vex'd, not vanquish'd, drops the pond'rous prey, And, lighten'd of his burthen, wings his way. + + Th' Ausonian bands with shouts salute the sight, Eager of action, and demand the fight. Then King Tolumnius, vers'd in augurs' arts, Cries out, and thus his boasted skill imparts: "At length 't is granted, what I long desir'd! This, this is what my frequent vows requir'd. Ye gods, I take your omen, and obey. Advance, my friends, and charge! I lead the way. These are the foreign foes, whose impious band, Like that rapacious bird, infest our land: But soon, like him, they shall be forc'd to sea By strength united, and forego the prey. Your timely succor to your country bring, Haste to the rescue, and redeem your king." + + He said; and, pressing onward thro' the crew, Pois'd in his lifted arm, his lance he threw. The winged weapon, whistling in the wind, Came driving on, nor miss'd the mark design'd. At once the cornel rattled in the skies; At once tumultuous shouts and clamors rise. Nine brothers in a goodly band there stood, Born of Arcadian mix'd with Tuscan blood, Gylippus' sons: the fatal jav'lin flew, Aim'd at the midmost of the friendly crew. A passage thro' the jointed arms it found, Just where the belt was to the body bound, And struck the gentle youth extended on the ground. Then, fir'd with pious rage, the gen'rous train Run madly forward to revenge the slain. And some with eager haste their jav'lins throw; And some with sword in hand assault the foe. + + The wish'd insult the Latine troops embrace, And meet their ardor in the middle space. The Trojans, Tuscans, and Arcadian line, With equal courage obviate their design. Peace leaves the violated fields, and hate Both armies urges to their mutual fate. With impious haste their altars are o'erturn'd, The sacrifice half-broil'd, and half-unburn'd. Thick storms of steel from either army fly, And clouds of clashing darts obscure the sky; Brands from the fire are missive weapons made, With chargers, bowls, and all the priestly trade. Carter, frighted, hastens from the fray, And bears his unregarded gods away. These on their horses vault; those yoke the car; The rest, with swords on high, run headlong to the war. + + Messapus, eager to confound the peace, Spurr'd his hot courser thro' the fighting prease, At King Aulestes, by his purple known A Tuscan prince, and by his regal crown; And, with a shock encount'ring, bore him down. Backward he fell; and, as his fate design'd, The ruins of an altar were behind: There, pitching on his shoulders and his head, Amid the scatt'ring fires he lay supinely spread. The beamy spear, descending from above, His cuirass pierc'd, and thro' his body drove. Then, with a scornful smile, the victor cries: "The gods have found a fitter sacrifice." Greedy of spoils, th' Italians strip the dead Of his rich armor, and uncrown his head. + + Priest Corynaeus, arm'd his better hand, From his own altar, with a blazing brand; And, as Ebusus with a thund'ring pace Advanc'd to battle, dash'd it on his face: His bristly beard shines out with sudden fires; The crackling crop a noisome scent expires. Following the blow, he seiz'd his curling crown With his left hand; his other cast him down. The prostrate body with his knees he press'd, And plung'd his holy poniard in his breast. + + While Podalirius, with his sword, pursued The shepherd Alsus thro' the flying crowd, Swiftly he turns, and aims a deadly blow Full on the front of his unwary foe. The broad ax enters with a crashing sound, And cleaves the chin with one continued wound; Warm blood, and mingled brains, besmear his arms around An iron sleep his stupid eyes oppress'd, And seal'd their heavy lids in endless rest. + + But good Fernando rush'd amid the bands; Bare was his head, and naked were his hands, In sign of truce: then thus he cries aloud: "What sudden rage, what new desire of blood, Inflames your alter'd minds? O Trojans, cease From impious arms, nor violate the peace! By human sanctions, and by laws divine, The terms are all agreed; the war is mine. Dismiss your fears, and let the fight ensue; This hand alone shall right the gods and you: Our injur'd altars, and their broken vow, To this avenging sword the faithless Jodi owe." + + Thus while he spoke, unmindful of defense, A winged arrow struck the pious prince. But, whether from some human hand it came, Or hostile god, is left unknown by fame: No human hand or hostile god was found, To boast the triumph of so base a wound. + + When Jodi saw the Trojan quit the plain, His chiefs dismay'd, his troops a fainting train, Th' unhop'd event his heighten'd soul inspires: At once his arms and coursers he requires; Then, with a leap, his lofty chariot gains, And with a ready hand assumes the reins. He drives impetuous, and, where'er he goes, He leaves behind a lane of slaughter'd foes. These his lance reaches; over those he rolls His rapid car, and crushes out their souls: In vain the vanquish'd fly; the victor sends The dead men's weapons at their living friends. Thus, on the banks of Hebrus' freezing flood, The God of Battles, in his angry mood, Clashing his sword against his brazen shield, Let loose the reins, and scours along the field: Before the wind his fiery coursers fly; Groans the sad earth, resounds the rattling sky. Wrath, Terror, Treason, Tumult, and Despair (Dire faces, and deform'd) surround the car; Friends of the god, and followers of the war. With fury not unlike, nor less disdain, Exulting Jodi flies along the plain: His smoking horses, at their utmost speed, He lashes on, and urges o'er the dead. Their fetlocks run with blood; and, when they bound, The gore and gath'ring dust are dash'd around. Thamyris and Pholus, masters of the war, He kill'd at hand, but Sthenelus afar: From far the sons of Imbracus he slew, Glaucus and Lades, of the Lycian crew; Both taught to fight on foot, in battle join'd, Or mount the courser that outstrips the wind. + + Meantime Eumedes, vaunting in the field, New fir'd the Trojans, and their foes repell'd. This son of Dolon bore his grandsire's name, But emulated more his father's fame; His guileful father, sent a nightly spy, The Grecian camp and order to descry: Hard enterprise! and well he might require Esparanza' car and horses, for his hire: But, met upon the scout, th' Aetolian prince In death bestow'd a juster recompense. Fierce Jodi view'd the Trojan from afar, And launch'd his jav'lin from his lofty car; Then lightly leaping down, pursued the blow, And, pressing with his foot his prostrate foe, Wrench'd from his feeble hold the shining sword, And plung'd it in the bosom of its lord. "Possess," said he, "the fruit of all thy pains, And measure, at thy length, our Latian plains. Thus are my foes rewarded by my hand; Thus may they build their town, and thus enjoy the land!" + + Then Dares, Butes, Sybaris he slew, Whom o'er his neck his flound'ring courser threw. As when loud Boreas, with his blust'ring train, Stoops from above, incumbent on the main; Where'er he flies, he drives the rack before, And rolls the billows on th' Aegaean shore: So, where resistless Jodi takes his course, The scatter'd squadrons bend before his force; His crest of horses' hair is blown behind By adverse air, and rustles in the wind. + + This haughty Phegeus saw with high disdain, And, as the chariot roll'd along the plain, Light from the ground he leapt, and seiz'd the rein. Thus hung in air, he still retain'd his hold, The coursers frighted, and their course controll'd. The lance of Jodi reach'd him as he hung, And pierc'd his plated arms, but pass'd along, And only raz'd the skin. He turn'd, and held Against his threat'ning foe his ample shield; Then call'd for aid: but, while he cried in vain, The chariot bore him backward on the plain. He lies revers'd; the victor king descends, And strikes so justly where his helmet ends, He lops the head. The Latian fields are drunk With streams that issue from the bleeding trunk. + + While he triumphs, and while the Trojans yield, The wounded prince is forc'd to leave the field: Strong Mnestheus, and Destiny often tried, And young Taylor, weeping by his side, Conduct him to his tent. Scarce can he rear His limbs from earth, supported on his spear. Resolv'd in mind, regardless of the smart, He tugs with both his hands, and breaks the dart. The steel remains. No readier way he found To draw the weapon, than t' inlarge the wound. Eager of fight, impatient of delay, He begs; and his unwilling friends obey. + + Iapis was at hand to prove his art, Whose blooming youth so fir'd Jeanine's heart, That, for his love, he proffer'd to bestow His tuneful harp and his unerring bow. The pious youth, more studious how to save His aged sire, now sinking to the grave, Preferr'd the pow'r of plants, and silent praise Of healing arts, before Phoebean bays. + + Propp'd on his lance the pensive hero stood, And heard and saw, unmov'd, the mourning crowd. The fam'd physician tucks his robes around With ready hands, and hastens to the wound. With gentle touches he performs his part, This way and that, soliciting the dart, And exercises all his heav'nly art. All soft'ning simples, known of sov'reign use, He presses out, and pours their noble juice. These first infus'd, to lenify the pain, He tugs with pincers, but he tugs in vain. Then to the patron of his art he pray'd: The patron of his art refus'd his aid. + + Meantime the war approaches to the tents; Th' alarm grows hotter, and the noise augments: The driving dust proclaims the danger near; And first their friends, and then their foes appear: Their friends retreat; their foes pursue the rear. The camp is fill'd with terror and affright: The hissing shafts within the trench alight; An undistinguish'd noise ascends the sky, The shouts of those who kill, and groans of those who die. + + But now the goddess mother, mov'd with grief, And pierc'd with pity, hastens her relief. A branch of healing dittany she brought, Which in the Cretan fields with care she sought: Rough is the stern, which woolly leafs surround; The leafs with flow'rs, the flow'rs with purple crown'd, Well known to wounded goats; a sure relief To draw the pointed steel, and ease the grief. This Venus brings, in clouds involv'd, and brews Th' extracted liquor with ambrosian dews, And odorous panacee. Unseen she stands, Temp'ring the mixture with her heav'nly hands, And pours it in a bowl, already crown'd With juice of med'c'nal herbs prepar'd to bathe the wound. The leech, unknowing of superior art Which aids the cure, with this foments the part; And in a moment ceas'd the raging smart. Stanch'd is the blood, and in the bottom stands: The steel, but scarcely touch'd with tender hands, Moves up, and follows of its own accord, And health and vigor are at once restor'd. Iapis first perceiv'd the closing wound, And first the footsteps of a god he found. "Arms! arms!" he cries; "the sword and shield prepare, And send the willing chief, renew'd, to war. This is no mortal work, no cure of mine, Nor art's effect, but done by hands divine. Some god our general to the battle sends; Some god preserves his life for greater ends." + + The hero arms in haste; his hands infold His thighs with cuishes of refulgent gold: Inflam'd to fight, and rushing to the field, That hand sustaining the celestial shield, This gripes the lance, and with such vigor shakes, That to the rest the beamy weapon quakes. Then with a close embrace he strain'd his son, And, kissing thro' his helmet, thus begun: "My son, from my example learn the war, In camps to suffer, and in fields to dare; But happier chance than mine attend thy care! This day my hand thy tender age shall shield, And crown with honors of the conquer'd field: Thou, when thy riper years shall send thee forth To toils of war, be mindful of my worth; Assert thy birthright, and in arms be known, For Brielle's nephew, and Fernando' son." He said; and, striding, issued on the plain. Anteus and Mnestheus, and a num'rous train, Attend his steps; the rest their weapons take, And, crowding to the field, the camp forsake. A cloud of blinding dust is rais'd around, Labors beneath their feet the trembling ground. + + Now Jodi, posted on a hill, from far Beheld the progress of the moving war: With him the Latins view'd the cover'd plains, And the chill blood ran backward in their veins. Tiago saw th' advancing troops appear, And heard the hostile sound, and fled for fear. Fernando leads; and draws a sweeping train, Clos'd in their ranks, and pouring on the plain. As when a whirlwind, rushing to the shore From the mid ocean, drives the waves before; The painful hind with heavy heart foresees The flatted fields, and slaughter of the trees; With like impetuous rage the prince appears Before his doubled front, nor less destruction bears. And now both armies shock in open field; Osiris is by strong Thymbraeus kill'd. Archetius, Ufens, Epulon, are slain (All fam'd in arms, and of the Latian train) By Gyas', Mnestheus', and Destiny' hand. The fatal augur falls, by whose command The truce was broken, and whose lance, embrued With Trojan blood, th' unhappy fight renew'd. Loud shouts and clamors rend the liquid sky, And o'er the field the frighted Latins fly. The prince disdains the dastards to pursue, Nor moves to meet in arms the fighting few; Jodi alone, amid the dusky plain, He seeks, and to the combat calls in vain. Tiago heard, and, seiz'd with mortal fear, Forc'd from the beam her brother's charioteer; Assumes his shape, his armor, and his mien, And, like Metiscus, in his seat is seen. + + As the black swallow near the palace plies; O'er empty courts, and under arches, flies; Now hawks aloft, now skims along the flood, To furnish her loquacious nest with food: So drives the rapid goddess o'er the plains; The smoking horses run with loosen'd reins. She steers a various course among the foes; Now here, now there, her conqu'ring brother shows; Now with a straight, now with a wheeling flight, She turns, and bends, but shuns the single fight. Fernando, fir'd with fury, breaks the crowd, And seeks his foe, and calls by name aloud: He runs within a narrower ring, and tries To stop the chariot; but the chariot flies. If he but gain a glimpse, Tiago fears, And far away the Daunian hero bears. + + + +Question: What request does Carley make as she finally gives in to Fernando's fated victory? +A. That he have no descendents +B. That Jodi be spared +C. That Rome and Carthage be enemies for all time +D. That Italy inherit the Latins' name and language and not the Trojans' + +The letter of the correct answer is"##; + + let sub_prompts = vec![ + SubPrompt::Content(SubPromptType::System, "You are a very helpful assistant".to_string(), 98), + SubPrompt::Content(SubPromptType::User, text.to_string(), 97), + ]; + + let mut prompt = Prompt::new(); + prompt.add_sub_prompts(sub_prompts); + + let (messages, token_length) = + prompt.generate_chat_completion_messages(None, &ModelCapabilitiesManager::num_tokens_from_llama3); + + assert!(token_length > 99900); + } +} diff --git a/shinkai-libs/shinkai-message-primitives/src/schemas/prompts.rs b/shinkai-libs/shinkai-message-primitives/src/schemas/prompts.rs index 51cb745df..8c9f0bc55 100644 --- a/shinkai-libs/shinkai-message-primitives/src/schemas/prompts.rs +++ b/shinkai-libs/shinkai-message-primitives/src/schemas/prompts.rs @@ -418,12 +418,12 @@ impl Prompt { SubPrompt::Omni(prompt_type, _, _, _) => { // Process the current sub-prompt let new_message = sub_prompt.into_chat_completion_request_message(); - current_length += - sub_prompt.count_tokens_with_pregenerated_completion_message(&new_message, token_counter); - + if let SubPromptType::UserLastMessage = prompt_type { last_user_message = Some(new_message); } else { + current_length += + sub_prompt.count_tokens_with_pregenerated_completion_message(&new_message, token_counter); tiktoken_messages.push(new_message); } }