The Aeneid, Book I

The Trojans, after a Seven Years Voyage, set sail for Italy, but are overtaken by a dreadful Storm, which Æolus raises at Juno's Request. The Tempest sinks one, and scatters the rest: Neptune drives off the Winds, and calms the Sea. Æneas with his own Ship, and six more, arrives safe at an Affrican Port. Venus complains to Jupiter of her Son's Misfortunes. Jupiter comforts her, and sends Mercury to procure him a kind Reception among the Carthaginians. Æneas going out to discover the Country, meets his Mother in the Shape of an Huntress, who conveys him in a Cloud to Carthage; where he sees his Friends whom he thought lost, and receives a kind Entertainment from the Queen. Dido by a Device of Venus begins to have a Passion for him, and after some Discourse with him, desires the History of his Adventures since the Siege of Troy, which is the Subject of the Two following Books.

ARMS, and the Man I sing, who forc'd by Fate,
And haughty Juno's unrelenting Hate;
Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan Shoar:
Long Labours, 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 setl'd sure Succession in his Line:
From whence the Race of Alban Fathers come,
And the long Glories of Majestick Rome.
  O Muse! the Causes and the Crimes relate,
What Goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate:
For what Offence 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 hurry'd into Wars!
Can Heav'nly Minds such high resentment show;
Or exercise their Spight 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 Juno more
Than her own Argos, or the Samian Shoar.
Here stood her Chariot, here, if Heav'n were kind,
The Seat of awful Empire she design'd.
Yet she had heard an ancient Rumour fly,
(Long cited by the People of the Sky;)
That times to come shou'd see the Trojan Race
Her Carthage ruin, and her Tow'rs deface:
Nor thus confin'd, the Yoke of Sov'raign Sway,
Should on the Necks of all the Nations lay.
She ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in Fate;
Nor cou'd forget the War she wag'd of late,
For conq'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 Paris, and her Form disdain'd:
The Grace bestow'd on ravish'd Ganimed,
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 Hoast:
And sev'n long Years th' unhappy wand'ring Train,
Were toss'd by Storms, and scatter'd through the Main.
Such Time, such Toil requir'd the Roman Name,
Such length of Labour for so vast a Frame.
  Now scarce the Trojan Fleet with Sails and Oars,
Had left behind the Fair Sicilian Shoars:
Ent'ring with chearful Shouts the wat'ry Reign,
And ploughing 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.
Cou'd angry Pallas, 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 Juno'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 Æolus from his Airy Throne,
With Pow'r Imperial curbs the strugling 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
Wou'd sweep the World before them, in their Way:
Earth, Air, and Seas through empty Space wou'd rowl,
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 addrest,
And thus the tenour of her Suit express'd.
  O Æolus! 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 troubl'd Main.
A race of wand'ring Slaves, abhorr'd by me,
With prosp'rous Passage cut the Thuscan 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—Tis 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'raign's Grace, and, as your Guest,
I sit with Gods at their Cœlestial 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 apply'd.
The raging Winds rush through the hollow Wound,
And dance aloft in Air, and skim along the Ground:
Then setling on the Sea, the Surges sweep;
Raise liquid Mountains, and disclose the deep.
South, East, and West, with mix'd Confusion roar,
And rowl the foaming Billows to the Shoar.
The Cables crack, the Sailors fearful Cries
Ascend; and sable Night involves the Skies;
And Heav'n it self 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 cry'd,
That under Ilian Walls before their Parents dy'd.
Tydides, bravest of the Grecian Train,
Why cou'd not I by that strong Arm be slain,
And lye by noble Hector on the Plain,
Or great Sarpedon, in those bloody Fields,
Where Simois rouls 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 Vessel 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 hurry'd 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 a-land.
Orontes Barque that bore the Lycian Crew,
(A horrid Sight) ev'n in the Hero's view,
From Stem to Stern, by Waves was overborn:
The trembling Pilot, from his Rudder torn,
Was headlong hurl'd; thrice round, the Ship was tost,
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 through loosen'd Planks the rushing Sea.
Ilioneus was her Chief: Alethes old,
Achates faithful, Abas young and bold
Endur'd not less: their Ships, with gaping Seams,
Admit the Deluge of the briny Streams.
  Mean time 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 rowl'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 supream Command?
To raise such Mountains on the troubl'd Main?
Whom I—But first tis 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 Jailor 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 sholes: where e'er he guides
His finny Coursers, and in Triumph rides,
The Waves unruffle and the Sea subsides.
As when in Tumults rise th' ignoble Crow'd,
Mad are their Motions, and their Tongues are loud;
And Stones and Brands in ratling Vollies fly,
And all the Rustick Arms that Fury can supply:
If then some grave and Pious Man appear,
They hush their Noise, and lend a list'ning Ear;
He sooths 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'raign Trident rears,
Their Fury falls: He skims the liquid Plains,
High on his Chariot, and with loosen'd Reins,
Majestick moves along, and awful Peace maintains.
The weary Trojans ply their shatter'd Oars,
To nearest Land, and make the Lybian Shoars.
  Within a long Recess there lies a Bay,
An Island shades it from the rowling Sea,
The Prince pursued the parting Deity
With Words like these: Ah! whither dost thou 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 shrowds,
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 Shepherd's 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 Labour: Some extend the Wall,
Some build the Citadel; the brawny throng,
Or dig, or push unweildly stones along.
Some for their Dwellings chuse 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 Theatre:
From Marble Quarries mighty Columns hew,
For Ornaments of Scenes, and future view.
Such is their Toyl, and such their busy Pains,
As exercise the Bees in flow'ry Plains;
When Winter past, and Summer scarce begun,
Invites them forth to labour in the Sun:
Some lead their Youth abroad, while some condense
Their liquid Store, and some in Cells dispence.
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 others Deeds;
The fragrant Work with Diligence proceeds.
Thrice happy you, whose Walls already rise;
Æneas said; and view'd, with lifted Eyes,
Their lofty Tow'rs; then ent'ring at the Gate,
Conceal'd in Clouds, (prodigious to relate)
He mix'd, unmark'd, among the busy Throng,
Born by the Tide, and pass'd unseen along.
  Full in the Centre 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 Juno gave,
Of a Soil fruitful, and a People brave.
Sidonian Dido here with solemn State
Did Juno'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 found.
What first Æneas in this place beheld,
Reviv'd his Courage, and his Fear expel'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 Agamemnon, Priam here he spies,
And fierce Achilles who both Kings defies.
He stop'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 Priam 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,
Pursu'd by fierce Achilles through 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 Centries slew; nor spar'd their slumb'ring Lord.
Then took the fiery Steeds, e'er yet the Food
Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthian Flood.
Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defy'd
Achilles, and unequal Combat try'd.
Then, where the Boy disarm'd with loosen'd Reins,
Was by his Horses hurry'd o'er the Plains:
Hung by the Neck and Hair, and drag'd around,
The hostile Spear yet sticking in his Wound;
With tracks of Blood inscrib'd the dusty Ground.
  Mean time the Trojan Dames oppress'd with Woe,
To Pallas Fane in long Procession goe,
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 Achilles drew
The Corps of Hector, whom in Fight he slew.
Here Priam 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 Heroes 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 Battel 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 Dido, with a num'rous Train,
And pomp of Guards, ascends the sacred Fane.
Such on Eurota's Banks, or Cynthus' hight,
Diana seems; and so she charms the sight,
When in the Dance the graceful Goddess leads
The Quire of Nymphs, and overtops their Heads.
Known by her Quiver, and her lofty Meen,
She walks Majestick, and the looks their Queen:
Latona sees her shine above the rest,
And feeds with secret Joy her silent Breast.
Such Dido was; with such becoming State,
Amidst the Crowd, the walks serenely great.
Their Labour to her future Sway she speeds,
And passing with a gracious Glance proceeds:
Then mounts the Throne, high plac'd before the Shrine;
In Crowds around the swarming People join.
She takes Petitions, and dispenses Laws,
Hears, and determines ev'ry private Cause.
Their Tasks in equal Portions she divides,
And where unequal, there by Lots decides.
Another way by chance Æneas bends
His Eyes, and unexpected sees his Friends:
Antheus, Sergestus grave, Cloanthus strong,
And at their Backs a mighty Trojan Throng:
Whom late the Tempest on the Billows tost,
And widely scatter'd on another Coast.
The Prince, unseen, surpriz'd with Wonder stands,
And longs, with joyful haste to join their Hands:
But doubtful of the wish'd Event, he stays,
And from the hollow Cloud his Friends surveys:
Impatient till they told their present State,
And where they left their Ships, and what their Fate;
And why they came, and what was their Request:
For these were sent commission'd by the rest,
To sue for leave to land their fickly Men,
And gain Admission to the Gracious Queen.
Ent'ring, with Cries they fill'd the holy Fane;
Then thus, with lowly Voice, Ilioneus began.
O Queen! indulg'd by Favour of the Gods,
To found an Empire in these new Abodes;
To build a Town, with Statutes to restrain
The wild Inhabitants beneath thy Reign:
We wretched Trojans tost on ev'ry Shore,
From Sea to Sea, thy Clemency implore:
Forbid the Fires our Shipping to deface,
Receive th' unhappy Fugitives to Grace,
And spare the remnant of a Pious Race.
We come not with design of wastful Prey
To drive the Country, force the Swains away:
Nor such our Strength, nor such is our Desire,
The vanquish'd dare not to such Thoughts aspire.
A Land there is, Hesperia nam'd of old,
The Soil is fruitful, and the Men are bold;
Th' Oenotrians held it once, by common Fame,
Now call'd Italia, from the Leaders Name.
To that fweet Region was our Voyage bent,
When Winds, and ev'ry warring Element,
Disturb'd our Course, and far from sight of Land,
Cast our torn Vessels on the moving Sand:
The Sea came on; the South with mighty Roar,
Dispers'd and dash'd the rest upon the Rocky Shoar.
Those few you see escap'd the Storm, and fear,
Unless you interpose, a Shipwreck here;
What Men, what Monsters, what inhuman Race,
What Laws, what barb'rous Customs of the Place,
Shut up a desart Shoar to drowning Men,
And drive us to the cruel Seas agen!
If our hard Fortune no Compassion draws,
Nor hospitable Rights, nor human Laws,
The Gods are just, and will revenge our Cause.
Æneas was our Prince, a juster Lord,
Or nobler Warrior, never drew a Sword:
Observant of the Right, religious of his Word.
If yet he lives, and draws this vital Air:
Nor we his Friends of Safety shall despair;
Nor you, great Queen, these Offices repent,
Which he will equal, and perhaps augment.
We want not Citics, nor Cicilian Coasts,
Where King Acestes Trojan Lineage boasts.
Permit our Ships a Shelter on your Shoars,
Refitted from your Woods with Planks and Oars;
That if our Prince be safe, we may renew
Our destin'd Course, and Italy pursue.
But if, O best of Men! the Fates ordain
That thou art swallow'd in the Lybian Main:
And if our young Inlus be no more,
Dismiss our Navy from your friendly Shoar
That we to good Acestes may return,
And with our Friends our common Losses mourn.
Thus spoke Ilioneus; the Trojan Crew
With Cries and Clamours his Request renew.
The modest Queen a while, with down-cast Eyes,
Ponder'd the Speech; then briesly thus replies.
  Trojans dismiss your Fears: my cruel Fate,
And doubts attending an unsettled State,
Force me to guard my Coast, from Foreign Foes:
Who has not heard the story of your Woes?
The Name and Fortune of your Native Place,
The Fame and Valour of the Phrygian Race?
We Tyrians are not so devoid of Sense,
Nor so remote from Phœbus influence.
Whether to Latian Shores your Course is bent,
Or driv'n by Tempests from your first intent,
You seek the good Acestes Government;
Your Men shall be receiv'd, your Fleet repair'd,
And sail, with Ships of Convoy for your guard;
Or, wou'd you stay, and join your friendly Pow'rs,
To raise and to defend the Tyrian Tow'rs;
My Wealth, my City, and my Self are yours.
And wou'd to Heav'n the Storm, you felt, wou'd bring
On Carthaginian Coasts your wand'ring King.
My People shall, by my Command, explore
The Ports and Creeks of ev'ry winding shore;
And Towns, and Wilds, and shady Woods, in quest
Of so renown'd and so desir'd a Guest.
Rais'd in his Mind the Trojan Heroe stood,
And long'd to break from out his Ambient Cloud;
Achates found it; and thus urg'd his way:
From whence, O Goddess born, this long delay?
What more can you desire, your Welcome sure,
Your Fleet in safety, and your Friends secure?
One only wants; and him we saw in vain
Oppose the Storm, and swallow'd in the Main.
Orontes in his Fate our Forfeit paid,
The rest agrees with what your Mother said.
Scarce had he spoken, when the Cloud gave way,
The Mists flew upward, and dissolv'd in day.
The Trojan Chief appear'd in open sight,
August in Visage, and serenely bright.
His Mother Goddess, with her hands Divine,
Had form'd his Curling Locks, and made his Temples shine:
And giv'n his rowling Eyes a sparkling grace;
And breath'd a youthful vigour on his Face:
Like polish'd Iv'ry, beauteous to behold,
Or Parian Marble, when enchas'd in Gold:
Thus radiant from the circling Cloud he broke;
And thus with manly modesty he spoke.
  He whom you seek am I: by Tempests tost,
And sav'd from Shipwreck on your Lybian Coast:
Presenting, gracious Queen, before your Throne,
A Prince that owes his Life to you alone.
Fair Majesty, the Refuge and Redress
Of those whom Fate pursues, and Wants oppres
You, who your pious Offices employ
To save the Reliques of abandon'd Troy;
Receive the Shipwreck'd on your friendly Shore,
With hospitable Rites relieve the Poor:
Associate in your Town a wandring Train,
And strangers in your Palace entertain.
What thanks can wretched Fugitives return,
Who scatter'd thro' the World in exile mourn?
The Gods, (if Gods to Goodness are inclin'd,)
If Acts of mercy touch their Heav'nly Mind;
And more than all the Gods, your gen'rous heart,
Conscious of worth, requite its own desert!
In you this Age is happy, and this Earth:
And Parents more than Mortal gave you birth.
While rowling Rivers into Seas shall run,
And round the space of Heav'n the radiant Sun;
While Trees the Mountain tops with Shades supply,
Your Honour, Name, and Praise shall never dye.
What e'er abode my Fortune has assign'd,
Your Image shall be present in my Mind.
Thus having said, he turn'd with pious haste,
And joyful his expecting Friends embrac'd:
With his right hand Ilioneus was grac'd,
Serestus with his left; then to his breast
Cloanthus and the Noble Gyas prest,
And so by turns descended to the rest.
  The Tyrian Queen stood fix'd upon his Face,
Pleas'd with his motions, ravish'd with his grace:
Admir'd his Fortunes, more admir'd the Man;
Then recollected stood; and thus began.
  What Fate, O Goddess born, what angry Pow'rs
Have cast you shipwreck'd on our barren Shores?
Are you the great Æneas, known to Fame,
Who from Cœlestial Seed your Lineage claim!
The same Æneas whom fair Venus bore
To fam'd Anchises on th' Idæan Shore?
It calls into my mind, tho' then a Child,
When Teucer came from Salamis exil'd;
And sought my Father's aid, to be restor'd:
My Father Belus then with Fire and Sword
Invaded Cyprus, made the Region bare,
And, Conqu'ring, finish'd the successful War.
From him the Trojan Siege I understood,
The Grecian Chiefs, and your Illustrious Blood.
Your Foe himself the Dardan Valour prais'd,
And his own Ancestry from Trojans rais'd,
Enter, my Noble Guest; and you shall find,
If not a costly welcome, yet a kind.
For I my self, like you, have been distress'd;
Till Heav'n afforded me this place of rest.
Like you an Alien in a Land unknown;
I learn to pity Woes, so like my own.
She said, and to the Palace led her Guest,
Then offer'd Incense, and proclaim'd a Feast.
Nor yet less careful for her absent Friends,
Twice ten fat Oxen to the Ships she sends:
Besides a hundred Boars, a hundred Lambs,
With bleating cries, attend their Milky Dams.
And Jars of gen'rous Wine, and spacious Bowls,
She gives to chear the Sailors drooping Souls.
Now Purple Hangings cloath the Palace Walls,
And sumptuous Feasts are made in splendid Halls:
On Tyrian Carpets, richly wrought, they Dine;
With loads of Massy Plate the Side-boards shine.
And Antique Vases all of Gold Emboss'd;
(The Gold it self inferiour to the Cost:)
Of curious Work, where on the sides were seen
The Fights and Figures of Illustrious Men;
From their first Founder to the present Queen.
  The Good Æneas, whose Paternal Care
Iulus absence could no longer bear,
Dispatch'd Achates to the Ships in hast,
To give a glad Relation of the past;
And, fraught with precious Gifts, to bring the Boy
Snatch'd from the Ruins of unhappy Troy:
A Robe of Tissue, stiff with golden Wire;
An upper Vest, once Hellen's rich Attire;
From Argos by the fam'd Adultress brought;
With Golden flow'rs and winding foliage wrought,
Her Mother, Lada's Present, when the came
To ruin Troy, and set the World on flame.
The Scepter Priam's eldest Daughter bore,
Her orient Necklace, and the Crown she wore;
Of double texture, glorious to behold;
One order set with Gems, and one with Gold.
Instructed thus, the wise Achates goes:
And in his diligence his duty shows.
  But Venus, anxious for her Son's Affairs,
New Councils tryes; and new Designs prepares:
That Cupid should assume the Shape and Face
Of sweet Ascanius, and the sprightly grace:
Shou'd bring the Presents, in her Nephew's stead,
And in Eliza's Veins the gentle Poison shed.
For much she fear'd the Tyrians, double tongu'd,
And knew the Town to Juno's care belong'd.
These thoughts by Night her Golden Slumbers broke;
And thus alarm'd, to winged Love she spoke.
My Son, my strength, whose mighty Pow'r alone
Controuls the Thund'rer, on his awful Throne;
To thee thy much afflicted Mother flies,
And on thy Succour, and thy Faith relies.
Thou know'st, my Son, how Jove's revengeful Wife,
By force and fraud, attempts thy Brother's life.
And often hast thou mourn'd with me his Pains:
Him Dido now with Blandishment detains;
But I suspect the Town where Juno reigns.
For this, tis needful to prevent her Art,
And fire with Love the proud Phœnician's heart.
A Love so violent, so strong, so sure,
As neither Age can change, nor Art can cure.
How this may be perform'd, now take my mind:
Ascanius, by his Father is design'd
To come, with Presents, laden from the Port,
To gratifie the Queen, and gain the Court.
I mean to plunge the Boy in pleasing Sleep,
And, ravish'd, in Idalian Bow'rs to keep;
Or high Cythæra: That the sweet Deceit
May pass unseen, and none prevent the Cheat,
Take thou his Form and Shape. I beg the Grace
But only for a Night's revolving Space;
Thy self a Boy, assume a Boy's dissembled Face.
That when amidst the fervour of the Feast,
The Tyrian hugs, and fonds thee on her Breast,
And with sweet Kisses in her Arms constrains,
Thou may'st infuse thy Venom in her Veins.
The God of Love obeys, and sets aside
His Bow, and Quiver, and his plumy Pride:
He walks Iulus in his Mother's Sight:
And in the sweet Resemblance takes Delight.
  The Goddess then to young Ascanius flies,
And in a pleasing Slumber seals his Eyes;
Lull'd in her Lap, amidst a Train of Loves,
She gently bears him to her blissful Groves:
Then with a Wreath of Myrtle crowns his Head,
And softly lays him on a flow'ry Bed.
Cupid mean time assum'd his Form and Face,
Foll'wing Achates with a shorter Pace;
And brought the Gifts. The Queen, already sate
Amidst the Trojan Lords, in shining State,
High on a Golden Bed: Her Princely Guest,
Was next her side, in order sate the rest.
Then Canisters with Bread are heap'd on high;
Th' Attendants Water for their Hands supply;
And having wash'd, with silken Towels dry.
Next fifty Handmaids in long order bore
The Censers, and with Fumes the Gods adore.
Then Youths, and Virgins twice as many, join
To place the Dishes, and to serve the Wine.
The Tyrian Train, admitted to the Feast,
Approach, and on the painted Couches rest.
All on the Trojan Gifts, with Wonder gaze;
But view the beauteous Boy with more amaze.
His Rosy-colour'd Cheeks, his radiant Eyes,
His Motions, Voice, and Shape, and all the God's disguise.
Nor pass unprais'd the Vest and Veil Divine,
Which wand'ring Foliage and rich Flow'rs entwine.
But far above the rest, the Royal Dames
(Already doom'd to Love's disastrous Flame;)
With Eyes insatiate, and tumultuous Joy,
Behold the Presents, and admires the Boy.
The guileful God, about the Heroe long,
With Children's play, and false Embraces hung;
Then sought the Queen: She took him to her Arms,
With greedy Pleasure, and devour'd his Charms.
Unhappy Dido little thought what Guest,
How dire a God she drew so near her Breast.
But he, not mindless of his Mother's Pray'r,
Works in the pliant Bosom of the Fair;
And moulds her Heart anew, and blots her former Care.
The dead is to the living Love resign'd,
And all Æneas enters in her Mind.
  Now, when the Rage of Hunger was appeas'd,
The Meat remov'd, and ev'ry Guest was pleas'd;
The Golden Bowls with sparkling Wine are crown'd,
And through the Palace chearful Cries resound.
From gilded Roofs depending Lamps display
Nocturnal Beams, that emulate the Day.
A Golden Bowl, that shone with Gems Divine,
The Queen commanded to be crown'd with Wine,
The Bowl that Belus us'd, and all the Tyrian Line.
Then, Silence through the Hall proclaim'd, she spoke:
O hospitable Jove! we thus invoke,
With solemn Rites, thy sacred Name and Pow'r!
Bless to both Nations this auspicious Hour.
So may the Trojan and the Tyrian Line,
In lasting Concord, from this Day combine.
Thou, Bacchus, God of Joys and friendly Cheer,
And gracious Juno, both be present here:
And you, my Lords of Tyre, your Vows address
To Heav'n with mine, to ratifie the Peace.
The Goblet then the took, with Nectar crown'd,
(Sprinkling the first Libations on the Ground,)
And rais'd it to her Mouth with sober Grace,
Then sipping, offer'd to the next in place.
Twas Bitias whom the call'd, a thirsty Soul,
He took the Challenge, and embrac'd the Bowl:
With Pleasure swill'd the Gold, nor ceas'd to draw,
Till he the bottom of the Brimmer saw.
The Goblet goes around: Iöpas brought
His Golden Lyre, and sung what ancient Atlas taught.
The various Labours of the wand'ring Moon,
And whence proceed th' Eclipses of the Sun.
Th' Original of Men, and Beasts; and whence
The Rains arise, and Fires their Warmth dispence;
And fix'd, and erring Stars, dispose their Influence.
What shakes the solid Earth, what Cause delays
The Summer Nights, and shortens Winter Days.
With Peals of Shouts the Tyrians praise the Song;
Those Peals are echo'd by the Trojan Throng.
Th' unhappy Queen with Talk prolong'd the Night,
And drank large Draughts of Love with vast Delight.
Of Priam much enquir'd, of Hector more;
Then ask'd what Arms the swarthy Memnon wore;
What Troops he landed on the Trojan Shore.
The Steeds of Diomede vary'd the Discourse,
And fierce Achilles, with his matchless Force.
At length, as Fate and her ill Stars requir'd,
To hear the Series of the War desir'd.
Relate at large, my God-like Guest, she said,
The Grecian Stratagems, the Town betray'd;
The fatal Issue of so long a War,
Your Flight, your Wand'rings, and your Woes declare.
For since on ev'ry Sea, on ev'ry Coast,
Your Men have been distress'd, your Navy tost,
Sev'n times the Sun has either Tropick view'd,
The Winter banish'd, and the Spring renew'd.