Book VII

One more immortal name thy death bequeathed,

Nurse of Aeneas, to Italian shores,

Caieta ; there thy honor hath a home;

Thy bones a name: and on Hesperia's breast

Their proper glory. When Aeneas now

The tribute of sepulchral vows had paid

Beside the funeral mound, and o'er the seas

Stillness had fallen, he flung forth his sails,

And leaving port pursued his destined way.

Freshly the night-winds breathe; the cloudless moon

Outpours upon his path unstinted beam,

And with far-trembling glory smites the sea.

Close to the lands of Circe soon they fare,

Where the Sun's golden daughter in far groves

Sounds forth her ceaseless song; her lofty hall

Is fragrant every night with flaring brands

Of cedar, giving light the while she weaves

With shrill-voiced shuttle at her linens fine.

From hence are heard the loud lament and wrath

Of lions, rebels to their linked chains

And roaring all night long; great bristly boars

And herded bears, in pinfold closely kept,

Rage horribly, and monster-wolves make moan;

Whom the dread goddess with foul juices strong

From forms of men drove forth, and bade to wear

the mouths and maws of beasts in Circe's thrall.

But lest the sacred Trojans should endure

such prodigy of doom, or anchor there

on that destroying shore, kind Neptune filled

their sails with winds of power, and sped them on

in safety past the perils of that sea.

Now morning flushed the wave, and saffron-garbed

Aurora from her rose-red chariot beamed

in highest heaven; the sea-winds ceased to stir;

a sudden calm possessed the air, and tides

of marble smoothness met the laboring oar.

Then, gazing from the deep, Aeneas saw

a stretch of groves, whence Tiber 's smiling stream,

its tumbling current rich with yellow sands,

burst seaward forth: around it and above

shore-haunting birds of varied voice and plume

flattered the sky with song, and, circling far

o'er river-bed and grove, took joyful wing.

Thither to landward now his ships he steered,

and sailed, high-hearted, up the shadowy stream.

Hail, Erato! while olden kings and thrones

and all their sequent story I unfold!

How Latium 's honor stood, when alien ships

brought war to Italy , and from what cause

the primal conflict sprang, O goddess, breathe

upon thy bard in song. Dread wars I tell,

array of battle, and high-hearted kings

thrust forth to perish, when Etruria's host

and all Hesperia gathered to the fray.

Events of grander march impel my song,

and loftier task I try. Latinus, then

an aged king, held long-accepted sway

o'er tranquil vales and towns. He was the son

of Faunus, so the legend tells, who wed

the nymph Marica of Laurentian stem.

Picus was Faunus' father, whence the line

to Saturn's Ioins ascends. O heavenly sire,

from thee the stem began! But Fate had given

to King Latinus' body no heirs male:

for taken in the dawning of his day

his only son had been; and now his home

and spacious palace one sole daughter kept,

who was grown ripe to wed and of full age

to take a husband. Many suitors tried

from all Ausonia and Latium 's bounds;

but comeliest in all their princely throng

came Turnus, of a line of mighty sires.

Him the queen mother chiefly loved, and yearned

to call him soon her son. But omens dire

and menaces from Heaven withstood her will.

A laurel-tree grew in the royal close,

of sacred leaf and venerated age,

which, when he builded there his wall and tower,

Father Latinus found, and hallowed it

to Phoebus' grace and power, wherefrom the name

Laurentian, which his realm and people bear.

Unto this tree-top, wonderful to tell,

came hosts of bees, with audible acclaim

voyaging the stream of air, and seized a place

on the proud, pointing crest, where the swift swarm,

with interlacement of close-clinging feet,

swung from the leafy bough. “Behold, there comes,”

the prophet cried, “a husband from afar!

To the same region by the self-same path

behold an arm'd host taking lordly sway

upon our city's crown!” Soon after this,

when, coming to the shrine with torches pure,

Lavinia kindled at her father's side

the sacrifice, swift seemed the flame to burn

along her flowing hair—O sight of woe!

Over her broidered snood it sparkling flew,

lighting her queenly tresses and her crown

of jewels rare: then, wrapt in flaming cloud,

from hall to hall the fire-god's gift she flung.

This omen dread and wonder terrible

was rumored far: for prophet-voices told

bright honors on the virgin's head to fall

by Fate's decree, but on her people, war.

The King, sore troubled by these portents, sought

oracular wisdom of his sacred sire,

Faunus, the fate-revealer, where the groves

stretch under high Albunea, and her stream

roars from its haunted well, exhaling through

vast, gloomful woods its pestilential air.

Here all Oenotria's tribes ask oracles

in dark and doubtful days: here, when the priest

has brought his gifts, and in the night so still,

couched on spread fleeces of the offered flock,

awaiting slumber lies, then wondrously

a host of flitting shapes he sees, and hears

voices that come and go: with gods he holds

high converse, or in deep Avernian gloom

parleys with Acheron. Thither drew near

Father Latinus, seeking truth divine.

Obedient to the olden rite, he slew

a hundred fleecy sheep, and pillowed lay

upon their outstretched skins. Straightway a voice

out of the lofty forest met his prayer.

“Seek not in wedlock with a Latin lord

to join thy daughter, O my son and seed!

Beware this purposed marriage! There shall come

sons from afar, whose blood shall bear our name

starward; the children of their mighty loins,

as far as eve and morn enfold the seas,

shall see a subject world beneath their feet

submissive lie.” This admonition given

Latinus hid not. But on restless wing

rumor had spread it, when the men of Troy

along the river-bank of mounded green

their fleet made fast. Aeneas and his chiefs,

with fair Iulus, under spreading boughs

of one great tree made resting-place, and set

the banquet on. Thin loaves of altar-bread

along the sward to bear their meats were laid

(such was the will of Jove), and wilding fruits

rose heaping high, with Ceres' gift below.

Soon, all things else devoured, their hunger turned

to taste the scanty bread, which they attacked

with tooth and nail audacious, and consumed

both round and square of that predestined leaven.

“Look, how we eat our tables even!” cried

Iulus, in a jest. Such was the word

which bade their burdens fall. From his boy's lip

the father caught this utterance of Fate,

silent with wonder at the ways of Heaven;

then swift he spoke: “Hail! O my destined shore,

protecting deities of Ilium , hail!

Here is our home, our country here! This day

I publish the mysterious prophecy

by Sire Anchises given: ‘My son,’ said he,

‘When hunger in strange lands shall bid devour

the tables of thy banquet gone, then hope

for home, though weary, and take thought to build

a dwelling and a battlement.’ Behold!

This was our fated hunger! This last proof

will end our evil days. Up, then! For now

by morning's joyful beam we will explore

what men, what cities, in this region be,

and, leaving ship, our several errands ply.

Your gift to Jove outpour! Make thankful prayer

unto Anchises' shade! To this our feast

bring back the flowing wine!” Thereat he bound

his forehead with green garland, calling loud

upon the Genius of that place, and Earth,

eldest of names divine; the Nymphs he called,

and river-gods unknown; his voice invoked

the night, the omen-stars through night that roll.

Jove, Ida's child, and Phrygia 's fertile Queen:

he called his mother from Olympian skies,

and sire from Erebus. Lo, o'er his head

three times unclouded Jove omnipotent

in thunder spoke, and, with effulgent ray

from his ethereal tract outreaching far,

shook visibly the golden-gleaming air.

Swift, through the concourse of the Trojans, spread

news of the day at hand when they should build

their destined walls. So, with rejoicing heart

at such vast omen, they set forth a feast

with zealous emulation, ranging well

the wine-cups fair with many a garland crowned.

Soon as the morrow with the lamp of dawn

looked o'er the world, they took their separate ways,

exploring shore and towns; here spread the pools

and fountain of Numicius; here they see

the river Tiber , where bold Latins dwell.

Anchises' son chose out from his brave band

a hundred envoys, bidding them depart

to the King's sacred city, each enwreathed

with Pallas' silver leaf; and gifts they bear

to plead for peace and friendship at his throne.

While on this errand their swift steps are sped,

Aeneas, by a shallow moat and small,

his future city shows, breaks ground, and girds

with mound and breastwork like a camp of war

the Trojans' first abode. Soon, making way

to where the Latin citadel uprose,

the envoys scanned the battlements, and paused

beneath its wall. Outside the city gates

fair youths and striplings in life's early bloom

course with swift steeds, or steer through dusty cloud

the whirling chariot, or stretch stout bows,

or hurl the seasoned javelin, or strive

in boxing-bout and foot-race: one of these

made haste on horseback to the aged King,

with tidings of a stranger company

in foreign garb approaching. The good King

bade call them to his house, and took his seat

in mid-court on his high, ancestral throne.

Large and majestical the castle rose:

a hundred columns lifted it in air

upon the city's crown—the royal keep

of Picus of Laurentum; round it lay

deep, gloomy woods by olden worship blest.

Here kings took sceptre and the fasces proud

with omens fair; the selfsame sacred place

was senate-house and temple; here was found

a hall for hallowed feasting, where a ram

was offered up, and at long banquet-boards

the nation's fathers sat in due array.

Here ranged ancestral statues roughly hewn

of ancient cedar-wood: King Italus;

Father Sabinus, planter of the vine,

a curving sickle in his sculptured hand;

gray-bearded Saturn; and the double brow

of Janus' head; and other sires and kings

were wardens of the door, with many a chief

wounded in battle for his native land.

Trophies of arms in goodly order hung

along the columns: chariots of war

from foeman taken, axes of round blade,

plumed helmets, bolts and barriers of steel

from city-gates, shields, spears, and beaks of bronze

from captured galleys by the conqueror torn.

Here, wielding his Quirinal augur-staff,

girt in scant shift, and bearing on his left

the sacred oval shield, appeared enthroned

Picus, breaker of horses, whom his bride,

enamoured Circe, smote with golden wand,

and, raining o'er him potent poison-dew,

changed to a bird of pied and dappled wings.

In such a temple of his gods did Sire

Latinus, on hereditary throne,

welcome the Trojans to his halls, and thus

with brow serene gave greeting as they came:

“O sons of Dardanus, think not unknown

your lineage and city! Rumored far

your venturous voyage has been. What seek ye here?

What cause, what quest, has brought your barks and you

o'er the blue waters to Ausonia's hills?

What way uncharted, or wild stress of storm,

or what that sailors suffer in mid-sea,

unto this river bank and haven bore?

Doubt not our welcome! We of Latin land

are Saturn's sons, whose equitable minds,

not chained by statute or compulsion, keep

in freedom what the god's good custom gave.

Now I bethink me our Ausonian seers

have dark, dim lore that 't was this land gave birth

to Dardanus, who after took his way

through Phrygian Ida's towns and Samothrace .

Once out of Tuscan Corythus he fared;

but now in golden house among the stars

he has a throne, and by his altars blest

adds to the number of the gods we praise.”

He spoke; Ilioneus this answer made:

“O King, great heir of Faunus! No dark storm

impelled us o'er the flood thy realm to find.

Nor star deceived, nor strange, bewildering shore

threw out of our true course; but we are come

by our free choice and with deliberate aim

to this thy town, though exiled forth of realms

once mightiest of all the sun-god sees

when moving from his utmost eastern bound.

From Jove our line began; the sons of Troy

boast Jove to be their sire, and our true King

is of Olympian seed. To thine abode

Trojan Aeneas sent us. How there burst

o'er Ida's vales from dread Mycenae 's kings

a tempest vast, and by what stroke of doom

all Asia 's world with Europe clashed in war,

that lone wight hears whom earth's remotest isle

has banished to the Ocean's rim, or he

whose dwelling is the ample zone that burns

betwixt the changeful sun-god's milder realms,

far severed from the world. We are the men

from war's destroying deluge safely borne

over the waters wide. We only ask

some low-roofed dwelling for our fathers' gods,

some friendly shore, and, what to all is free,

water and air. We bring no evil name

upon thy people; thy renown will be

but wider spread; nor of a deed so fair

can grateful memory die. Ye ne'er will rue

that to Ausonia's breast ye gathered Troy .

I swear thee by the favored destinies

of great Aeneas, by his strength of arm

in friendship or in war, that many a tribe

(O, scorn us not, that, bearing olive green,

with suppliant words we come), that many a throne

has sued us to be friends. But Fate's decree

to this thy realm did guide. Here Dardanus

was born; and with reiterate command

this way Apollo pointed to the stream

of Tiber and Numicius' haunted spring.

Lo, these poor tributes from his greatness gone

Aeneas sends, these relics snatched away

from Ilium burning: with this golden bowl

Anchises poured libation when he prayed;

and these were Priam's splendor, when he gave

laws to his gathered states; this sceptre his,

this diadem revered, and beauteous pall,

handwork of Asia 's queens.” So ceased to speak

Ilioneus. But King Latinus gazed

unanswering on the ground, all motionless

save for his musing eyes. The broidered pall

of purple, and the sceptre Priam bore,

moved little on his kingly heart, which now

pondered of giving to the bridal bed

his daughter dear. He argues in his mind

the oracle of Faunus:—might this be

that destined bridegroom from an alien land,

to share his throne, to get a progeny

of glorious valor, which by mighty deeds

should win the world for kingdom? So at last

with joyful brow he spoke: “Now let the gods

our purpose and their own fair promise bless!

Thou hast, O Trojan, thy desire. Thy gifts

I have not scorned; nor while Latinus reigns

shall ye lack riches in my plenteous land,

not less than Trojan store. But where is he,

Aeneas' self? If he our royal love

so much desire, and have such urgent mind

to be our guest and friend, let him draw near,

nor turn him from well-wishing looks away!

My offering and pledge of peace shall be

to clasp your monarch's hand. Bear back, I pray,

this answer to your King: my dwelling holds

a daughter, whom with husband of her blood

great signs in heaven and from my father's tomb

forbid to wed. A son from alien shores

they prophesy for Latium 's heir, whose seed

shall lift our glory to the stars divine.

I am persuaded this is none but he,

that man of destiny; and if my heart

be no false prophet, I desire it so.”

Thus having said, the sire took chosen steeds

from his full herd, whereof, well-groomed and fair,

three hundred stood within his ample pale.

Of these to every Teucrian guest he gave

a courser swift and strong, in purple clad

and broidered housings gay; on every breast

hung chains of gold; in golden robes arrayed,

they champed the red gold curb their teeth between.

For offering to Aeneas, he bade send

a chariot, with chargers twain of seed

ethereal, their nostrils breathing fire:

the famous kind which guileful Circe bred,

cheating her sire, and mixed the sun-god's team

with brood-mares earthly born. The sons of Troy ,

such gifts and greetings from Latinus bearing,

rode back in pomp his words of peace to bring.

But lo! from Argos on her voyage of air

rides the dread spouse of Jove. She, sky-enthroned

above the far Sicilian promontory,

pachynus, sees Dardania's rescued fleet,

and all Aeneas' joy. The prospect shows

houses a-building, lands of safe abode,

and the abandoned ships. With bitter grief

she stands at gaze: then with storm-shaken brows,

thus from her heart lets loose the wrathful word:

“O hated race! O Phrygian destinies —

to mine forevermore (unhappy me!)

a scandal and offense! Did no one die

on Troy 's embattled plain? Could captured slaves

not be enslaved again? Was Ilium's flame

no warrior's funeral pyre? Did they walk safe

through serried swords and congregated fires?

At last, methought, my godhead might repose,

and my full-fed revenge in slumber lie.

But nay! Though flung forth from their native land,

I o'er the waves, with enmity unstayed,

dared give them chase, and on that exiled few

hurled the whole sea. I smote the sons of Troy

with ocean's power and heaven's. But what availed

Syrtes, or Scylla, or Charybdis' waves?

The Trojans are in Tiber ; and abide

within their prayed-for land delectable,

safe from the seas and me! Mars once had power

the monstrous Lapithae to slay; and Jove

to Dian's honor and revenge gave o'er

the land of Calydon. What crime so foul

was wrought by Lapithae or Calydon?

But I, Jove's wife and Queen, who in my woes

have ventured each bold stroke my power could find,

and every shift essayed,—behold me now

outdone by this Aeneas! If so weak

my own prerogative of godhead be,

let me seek strength in war, come whence it will!

If Heaven I may not move, on Hell I call.

To bar him from his Latin throne exceeds

my fated power. So be it! Fate has given

Lavinia for his bride. But long delays

I still can plot, and to the high event

deferment and obstruction. I can smite

the subjects of both kings. Let sire and son

buy with their people's blood this marriage-bond!

Let Teucrian and Rutulian slaughter be

thy virgin dower, and Bellona's blaze

light thee the bridal bed! Not only teemed

the womb of Hecuba with burning brand,

and brought forth nuptial fires; but Venus, too,

such offspring bore, a second Paris, who

to their new Troy shall fatal wedlock bring.”

So saying, with aspect terrible she sped

earthward her way; and called from gloom of hell

Alecto, woeful power, from cloudy throne

among the Furies, where her heart is fed

with horrid wars, wrath, vengeance, treason foul,

and fatal feuds. Her father Pluto loathes

the creature he engendered, and with hate

her hell-born sister-fiends the monster view.

A host of shapes she wears, and many a front

of frowning black brows viper-garlanded.

Juno to her this goading speech addressed:

“O daughter of dark Night, arouse for me

thy wonted powers and our task begin!

Lest now my glory fail, my royal name

be vanquished, while Aeneas and his crew

cheat with a wedlock bond the Latin King

and seize Italia 's fields. Thou canst thrust on

two Ioving brothers to draw sword and slay,

and ruin homes with hatred, calling in

the scourge of Furies and avenging fires.

A thousand names thou bearest, and thy ways

of ruin multiply a thousand-fold.

Arouse thy fertile breast! Go, rend in twain

this plighted peace! Breed calumnies and sow

causes of battle, till yon warrior hosts

cry out for swords and leap to gird them on.”

Straightway Alecto, through whose body flows

the Gorgon poison, took her viewless way

to Latium and the lofty walls and towers

of the Laurentian King. Crouching she sate

in silence on the threshold of the bower

where Queen Amata in her fevered soul

pondered, with all a woman's wrath and fear,

upon the Trojans and the marriage-suit

of Turnus. From her Stygian hair the fiend

a single serpent flung, which stole its way

to the Queen's very heart, that, frenzy-driven,

she might on her whole house confusion pour.

Betwixt her smooth breast and her robe it wound

unfelt, unseen, and in her wrathful mind

instilled its viper soul. Like golden chain

around her neck it twined, or stretched along

the fillets on her brow, or with her hair

enwrithing coiled; then on from limb to limb

slipped tortuous. Yet though the venom strong

thrilled with its first infection every vein,

and touched her bones with fire, she knew it not,

nor yielded all her soul, but made her plea

in gentle accents such as mothers use;

and many a tear she shed, about her child,

her darling, destined for a Phrygian's bride:

“O father! can we give Lavinia's hand

to Trojan fugitives? why wilt thou show

no mercy on thy daughter, nor thyself;

nor unto me, whom at the first fair wind

that wretch will leave deserted, bearing far

upon his pirate ship my stolen child?

Was it not thus that Phrygian shepherd came

to Lacedaemon , ravishing away

Helen, the child of Leda, whom he bore

to those false Trojan lands? Hast thou forgot

thy plighted word? Where now thy boasted love

of kith and kin, and many a troth-plight given

unto our kinsman Turnus? If we need

an alien son, and Father Faunus' words

irrevocably o'er thy spirit brood,

I tell thee every land not linked with ours

under one sceptre, but distinct and free,

is alien; and 't is thus the gods intend.

Indeed, if Turnus' ancient race be told,

it sprang of Inachus, Acrisius,

and out of mid- Mycenae .” But she sees

her lord Latinus resolute, her words

an effort vain; and through her body spreads

the Fury's deeply venomed viper-sting.

Then, woe-begone, by dark dreams goaded on,

she wanders aimless, fevered and unstrung

along the public ways; as oft one sees

beneath the twisted whips a leaping top

sped in long spirals through a palace-close

by lads at play: obedient to the thong,

it weaves wide circles in the gaping view

of its small masters, who admiring see

the whirling boxwood made a living thing

under their lash. So fast and far she roved

from town to town among the clansmen wild.

Then to the wood she ran, feigning to feel

the madness Bacchus loves; for she essays

a fiercer crime, by fiercer frenzy moved.

Now in the leafy dark of mountain vales

she hides her daughter, ravished thus away

from Trojan bridegroom and the wedding-feast.

“Hail, Bacchus! Thou alone,” she shrieked and raved,

“art worthy such a maid. For thee she bears

the thyrsus with soft ivy-clusters crowned,

and trips ecstatic in thy beauteous choir.

For thee alone my daughter shall unbind

the glory of her virgin hair.” Swift runs

the rumor of her deed; and, frenzy-driven,

the wives of Latium to the forests fly,

enkindled with one rage. They leave behind

their desolated hearths, and let rude winds

o'er neck and tresses blow; their voices fill

the welkin with convulsive shriek and wail;

and, with fresh fawn-skins on their bodies bound,

they brandish vine-clad spears. The Queen herself

lifts high a blazing pine tree, while she sings

a wedding-song for Turnus and her child.

With bloodshot glance and anger wild, she cries:

“Ho! all ye Latin wives, if e'er ye knew

kindness for poor Amata, if ye care

for a wronged mother's woes, O, follow me!

Cast off the matron fillet from your brows,

and revel to our mad, voluptuous song.”

Thus, through the woodland haunt of creatures wild,

Alecto urges on the raging Queen

with Bacchus' cruel goad. But when she deemed

the edge of wrath well whetted, and the house

of wise Latinus of all reason reft,

then soared the black-winged goddess to the walls

of the bold Rutule, to the city built

(So runs the tale) by beauteous Danae

and her Acrisian people, shipwrecked there

by south wind strong. Its name was Ardea

in language of our sires, and that proud name

of Ardea still it wears, though proud no more.

Here Turnus in the gloom of midnight lay

half-sleeping in his regal hall. For him

Alecto her grim fury-guise put by,

and wore an old crone's face, her baleful brow

delved deep with wrinkled age, her hoary hair

in sacred fillet bound, and garlanded

with leaf of olive: Calybe she seemed,

an aged servitress ot Juno's shrine,

and in this seeming thus the prince addressed:—

“O Turnus, wilt thou tamely see thy toil

lavished in vain? and thy true throne consigned

to Trojan wanderers? The King repels

thy noble wooing and thy war-won dower.

He summons him a son of alien stem

to take his kingdom. Rouse thee now, and front,

scorned and without reward, these perilous days.

Tread down that Tuscan host! Protect the peace

of Latium from its foe! Such is the word

which, while in night and slumber thou wert laid,

Saturnia 's godhead, visibly revealed,

bade me declare. Up, therefore, and array

thy warriors in arms! Swift sallying forth

from thy strong city-gates, on to the fray

exultant go! Assail the Phrygian chiefs

who tent them by thy beauteous river's marge,

and burn their painted galleys! 't is the will

of gods above that speaks. Yea, even the King

Latinus, if he will not heed thy plea,

or hear thy wooing, shall be taught too late

what Turnus is in panoply of war.”

In mocking answer to the prophetess

the warrior thus replied: “That stranger fleet

in Tiber moored, not, as thy folly prates,

of me unnoted lies. Vex me no more

with thy fantastic terror. Juno's power

is watchful of my cause. 'T is mere old age,

gone to decay and dotage, fills thy breast

with vain foreboding, and, while kings contend,

scares and deceives thy visionary eye.

Guard thou in yonder temple's holy shade

the images divine! Of peace and war

let men and warriors the burden bear!”

So kindled he Alecto's wrath to flame;

and even as he spoke a shudder thrilled

the warrior's body, and his eyeballs stood

stonily staring at the hydra hair

which hissed and writhed above the grisly head

of the large-looming fiend. With eyes of fire

horribly rolling, she repelled him far,

while he but faltered speechless. She upraised

two coiling snakes out of her tresses, cracked

the lashes of her scourge, and wrathfully,

with raving lips replied: “Look well on me,

gone to decay and dotage of old age!

And mocked with foolish fear while kings contend!

Wilt hearken now! Behold me, hither flown

from where my sister-furies dwell! My hands

bring bloody death and war.” She spoke, and hurled

her firebrand at the hero, thrusting deep

beneath his heart her darkly smouldering flame.

Then horror broke his sleep, and fearful sweat

dripped from his every limb. He shrieked aloud

for arms; and seized the ready arms that lay

around his couch and hall. Then o'er his soul

the lust of battle and wild curse of war

broke forth in angry power, as when the flames

of faggots round the bubbling cauldron sing,

and up the waters leap; the close-kept flood

brims over, streaming, foaming, breaking bound,

and flings thick clouds in air. He, summoning

his chieftains, bade them on Latinus move,

break peace, take arms, and, over Italy

their shields extending, to thrust forth her foe:

himself for Teucrian with Latin joined

was more than match. He called upon the gods

in witness of his vows: while, nothing loth,

Rutulia's warriors rushed into array;

some by his youth and noble beauty moved,

some by his kingly sires and fame in arms.

While Turnus stirred Rutulia's valiant souls,

Alecto on her Stygian pinions sped

to where the Teucrians lay. She scanned the ground

with eager guile, where by the river's marge

fair-browed Iulus with his nets and snares

rode fiercely to the chase. Then o'er his hounds

that hell-born virgin breathed a sudden rage,

and filled each cunning nostril with the scent

of stags, till forth in wild pursuit they flew.

Here all the woe began, and here awoke

in rustic souls the swift-enkindling war.

For a fair stag, tall-antlered, stolen away

even from its mother's milk, had long been kept

by Tyrrhus and his sons—the shepherd he

of all the royal flocks, and forester

of a wide region round. With fondest care

their sister Silvia entwined its horns

with soft, fresh garlands, tamed it to run close,

and combed the creature, or would bring to bathe

at a clear, crystal spring. It knew the hands

of all its gentle masters, and would feed

from their own dish; or wandering through the wood,

come back unguided to their friendly door,

though deep the evening shade. Iulus' dogs

now roused this wanderer in their ravening chase,

as, drifted down-stream far from home it lay,

on a green bank a-cooling. From bent bow

Ascanius, eager for a hunter's praise,

let go his shaft; nor did Alecto fail

his aim to guide: but, whistling through the air,

the light-winged reed pierced deep in flank and side.

Swift to its cover fled the wounded thing,

and crept loud-moaning to its wonted stall,

where, like a blood-stained suppliant, it seemed

to fill that shepherd's house with plaintive prayer.

Then Silvia the sister, smiting oft

on breast and arm, made cry for help, and called

the sturdy rustics forth in gathering throng.

These now (for in the silent forest couched

the cruel Fury) swift to battle flew.

One brandished a charred stake, another swung

a knotted cudgel, as rude anger shapes

its weapon of whate'er the searching eye

first haps to fall on. Tyrrhus roused his clans,

just when by chance he split with blows of wedge

an oak in four; and, panting giant breath,

shouldered his woodman's axe. Alecto then,

prompt to the stroke of mischief, soared aloft

from where she spying sate, to the steep roof

of a tall byre, and from its peak of straw

blew a wild signal on a shepherd's horn,

outflinging her infernal note so far

that all the forest shuddered, and the grove

throbbed to its deepest glen. Cold Trivia's lake

from end to end gave ear, and every wave

of the white stream of Nar, the lonely pools

of still Velinus heard: while at the sound

pale mothers to their breasts their children drew.

Swift to the signal of the dreadful horn,

snatching their weapons rude, the freeborn swains

assembled for the fray; the Trojan bands

poured from their bivouac with instant aid

for young Ascanius. In array of war

both stand confronting. Not mere rustic brawl

with charred oak-staff and cudgel is the fight,

but with the two-edged steel; the naked swords

wave like dark-bladed harvest-field, while far

the brazen arms flash in the smiting sun,

and skyward fling their beam: so some wide sea,

at first but whitened in the rising wind,

swells its slow-rolling mass and ever higher

its billows rears, until the utmost deep

lifts in one surge to heaven. The first to fall

was Almo, eldest-born of Tyrrhus' sons,

whom, striding in the van, a loud-winged shaft

laid low in death; deep in his throat it clung,

and silenced with his blood the dying cry

of his frail life. Around him fell the forms

of many a brave and strong; among them died

gray-haired Galaesus pleading for a truce:

righteous he was, and of Ausonian fields

a prosperous master; five full flocks had he

of bleating sheep, and from his pastures came

five herds of cattle home; his busy churls

turned with a hundred ploughs his fruitful glebe.

While o'er the battle-field thus doubtful swung

the scales of war, the Fury (to her task

now equal proven) having dyed the day

a deep-ensanguined hue, and opened fight

with death and slaughter, made no tarrying

within Hesperia, but skyward soared,

and, Ioud in triumph, insolently thus

to Juno called: “See, at thy will, their strife

full-blown to war and woe! Could even thyself

command them now to truce and amity?

But I, that with Ausonia's blood befoul

their Trojan hands, yet more can do, if thou

shift not thy purpose. For with dire alarms

I will awake the bordering states to war

enkindling in their souls the frenzied lust

the war-god breathes; till from th' horizon round

the reinforcement pours—I scattering seeds

of carnage through the land.” In answer spoke

juno: “Enough of artifice and fear!

Thy provocation works. Now have they joined

in close and deadly combat, and warm blood

those sudden-leaping swords incarnadines,

which chance put in their hands. Such nuptial joys,

such feast of wedlock, let the famous son

of Venus with the King Latinus share!

But yon Olympian Sire and King no more

permits thee freely in our skies to roam.

Go, quit the field! Myself will take control

of hazards and of labors yet to be.”

Thus Saturn's daughter spoke. Alecto then,

unfolding far her hissing, viperous wings,

turned toward her Stygian home, and took farewell

of upper air. Deep in Italia lies

a region mountain-girded, widely famed,

and known in olden songs from land to land:

the valley of Amsanctus; deep, dark shades

enclose it between forest-walls, whereby

through thunderous stony channel serpentines

a roaring fall. Here in a monstrous cave

are breathing-holes of hell, a vast abyss

where Acheron opes wide its noisome jaws:

in this Alecto plunged, concealing so

her execrable godhead, while the air

of earth and heaven felt the curse removed.

Forthwith the sovereign hands of Juno haste

to consummate the war. The shepherds bear

back from the field of battle to the town

the bodies of the slain: young Almo's corse

and gray Galaesus' bleeding head. They call

just gods in heaven to Iook upon their wrong,

and bid Latinus see it. Turnus comes,

and, while the angry mob surveys the slain,

adds fury to the hour. “Shall the land

have Trojan lords? Shall Phrygian marriages

debase our ancient, royal blood—and I

be spurned upon the threshold?” Then drew near

the men whose frenzied women-folk had held

bacchantic orgies in the pathless grove,

awed by Amata's name: these, gathering,

sued loud for war. Yea, all defied the signs

and venerable omens; all withstood

divine decrees, and clamored for revenge,

prompted by evil powers. They besieged

the house of King Latinus, shouting-loud

with emulous rage. But like a sea-girt rock

unmoved he stood; like sea-girt rock when surge

of waters o'er it sweeps, or howling waves

surround; it keeps a ponderous front of power,

though foaming cliffs around it vainly roar;

from its firm base the broken sea-weeds fall.

But when authority no whit could change

their counsels blind, and each event fulfilled

dread Juno's will, then with complaining prayer

the aged sire cried loud upon his gods

and on th' unheeding air: “Alas,” said he,

“My doom is shipwreck, and the tempest bears

my bark away! O wretches, your own blood

shall pay the forfeit for your impious crime.

O Turnus! O abominable deed!

Avenging woes pursue thee; to deaf gods

thy late and unavailing prayer shall rise.

Now was my time to rest. But as I come

close to my journey's end, thou spoilest me

of comfort in my death.” With this the King

fled to his house and ceased his realm to guide.

A sacred custom the Hesperian land

of Latium knew, by all the Alban hills

honored unbroken, which wide-ruling Rome

keeps to this day, when to new stroke she stirs

the might of Mars; if on the Danube 's wave

resolved to fling the mournful doom of war,

or on the Caspian folk or Arabs wild;

or chase the morning far as India 's verge,

ind from the Parthian despot wrest away

our banners Iost. Twin Gates of War there be,

of fearful name, to Mars' fierce godhead vowed:

a hundred brass bars shut them, and the strength

of uncorrupting steel; in sleepless watch

Janus the threshold keeps. 'T is here, what time

the senate's voice is war, the consul grave

in Gabine cincture and Quirinal shift

himself the griding hinges backward moves,

and bids the Romans arm; obedient then

the legionary host makes Ioud acclaim,

and hoarse consent the brazen trumpets blow.

Thus King Latinus on the sons of Troy

was urged to open war, and backward roll

those gates of sorrow: but the aged king

recoiled, refused the loathsome task, and fled

to solitary shades. Then from the skies

the Queen of gods stooped down, and her sole hand

the lingering portal moved; Saturnia

swung on their hinges the barred gates of war.

ausonia from its old tranquillity

bursts forth in flame. Foot-soldiers through the field

run to and fro; and mounted on tall steeds

the cavaliers in clouds of dust whirl by.

All arm in haste. Some oil the glittering shield

or javelin bright, or on the whetstone wear

good axes to an edge, while joyful bands

uplift the standards or the trumpets blow.

Five mighty cities to their anvils bring

new-tempered arms: Atina—martial name —

proud Tibur , Ardea , Crustumium,

and river-walled Antemnae, crowned with towers

strong hollow helmets on their brows they draw

and weave them willow-shields; or melt and mould

corselets of brass or shining silver greaves;

none now for pruning-hook or sacred plough

have love or care: but old, ancestral swords

for hardier tempering to the smith they bring.

Now peals the clarion; through the legions pass

the watchwords: the impatient yeoman takes

his helmet from the idle roof-tree hung;

while to his chariot the master yokes

the mettled war-horse, dons a shining shield

and golden mail, and buckles his good sword.

Virgins of Helicon, renew my song!

Instruct me what proud kings to battle flown

with following legions throng the serried plain.

Tell me what heroes and illustrious arms

Italia 's bosom in her dawning day

benignant bore: for your celestial minds,

have memory of the past, but faint and low

steals glory's whisper on a mortal ear.

Foremost in fight, from shores Etrurian came

Mezentius, scornful rebel against Heaven,

his people all in arms; and at his side

Lausus his heir (no fairer youth than he,

save Turnus of Laurentum), Lausus, skilled

o break proud horses and wild beasts to quell;

who from Agylla's citadel in vain

led forth his thousand warriors: worthy he

to serve a nobler sire, and happier far

he had ne'er been born Mezentius' son.

Next after these, conspicuous o'er the plain,

with palm-crowned chariot and victorious steeds,

rode forth well-moulded Aventinus, sprung

from shapely Hercules; upon the shield

his blazon was a hundred snakes, and showed

his father's hydra-cincture serpentine;

him deep in Aventine 's most secret grove

the priestess Rhea bore—a mortal maid

clasped in a god's embrace the wondrous day

when, flushed with conquest of huge Geryon,

the lord of Tiryns to Laurentum drove,

and washed in Tiber 's wave th' Iberian kine.

His followers brandished pointed pikes and staves,

or smooth Sabellian bodkin tipped with steel;

but he, afoot, swung round him as he strode

a monstrous lion-skin, its bristling mane

and white teeth crowning his ferocious brow:

for garbed as Hercules he sought his King.

Then came twin brethren, leaving Tibur 's keep

(named from Tiburtus, brother of them twain)

Catillus and impetuous Coras, youth

of Argive seed, who foremost in the van

pressed ever where the foemen densest throng:

as when two centaurs, children of the cloud,

from mountain-tops descend in swift career,

the snows of Homole and Othrys leaving,

while crashing thickets in their pathway fall.

Nor was Praeneste 's founder absent there,

by Vulcan sired, among the herds and hinds,

and on a hearth-stone found (so runs the tale

each pious age repeats) King Caeculus

with rustic legions gathered from afar:

from steep Praeneste and the Gabian vale

to Juno dear, from Anio's cold stream,

from upland Hernic rocks and foaming rills,

from rich Anagnia 's pastures, and the plain

whence Amasenus pours his worshipped wave.

Not all of armor boast, and seldom sound

the chariot and shield; but out of slings

they hurl blue balls of lead, or in one hand

a brace of javelins bear; pulled o'er their brows

are hoods of tawny wolf-skin; as they march

the left foot leaves a barefoot track behind,

a rawhide sandal on the right they wear.

Messapus came, steed-tamer, Neptune's son,

by sword and fire invincible: this day,

though mild his people and unschooled in war,

he calls them to embattled lines, and draws

no lingering sword. Fescennia musters there,

Aequi Falisci, and what clans possess

Soracte's heights, Flavinia's fruitful farms,

Ciminian lake and mountain, and the groves

about Capena . Rank on rank they move,

loud singing of their chieftain's praise: as when

a flock of snowy swans through clouded air

return from feeding, and make tuneful cry

from their long throats, while Asia 's rivers hear,

and lone Cayster's startled moorland rings:

for hardly could the listening ear discern

the war-cry of a mail-clad host; the sound

was like shrill-calling birds, when home from sea

their soaring flock moves shoreward like a cloud.

Then, one of far-descended Sabine name,

Clausus advanced, the captain of a host,

and in himself an equal host he seemed;

from his proud loins the high-born Claudian stem

through Latium multiplies, since Roman power

with Sabine first was wed. A cohort came

from Amiternum and the olden wall

of Cures, called Quirites even then;

Eretum answered and Mutusca's hill

with olives clad, Velinus' flowery field,

nomentum's fortress, the grim precipice

of Tetrica, Severus' upland fair,

Casperia, Foruli, Himella's waves,

Tiber and Fabaris, and wintry streams

of Nursia ; to the same proud muster sped

Tuscan with Latin tribes, and loyal towns

beside whose walls ill-omened Allia flows.

As numerous they moved as rolling waves

that stir smooth Libyan seas, when in cold floods

sinks grim Orion's star; or like the throng

of clustering wheat-tops in the summer sun,

near Hermus or on Lycia 's yellowing plain:

shields clashed; their strong tramp smote the trembling ground.

Now Agamemnon's kinsman, cruel foe

to the mere name of Troy , Halaesus , yokes

the horses of his car and summons forth

a thousand savage clans at Turnus' call :

rude men whose mattocks to the Massic hills

bring Bacchus' bounty, or by graybeard sires

sent from Auruncan upland and the mead

of Sidicinum; out of Cales came

its simple folk; and dwellers by the stream

of many-shoaled Volturnus, close-allied

with bold Saticulan or Oscan swains.

Their arms are tapered javelins, which they wear

bound by a coiling thong; a shield conceals

the left side, and they fight with crooked swords.