Book 5

1 Meantime the Trojan cuts his wat'ry way,
2 Fix'd on his voyage, thro' the curling sea;
3 Then, casting back his eyes, with dire amaze,
4 Sees on the Punic shore the mounting blaze.
5 The cause unknown; yet his presaging mind
6 The fate of Dido from the fire divin'd;
7 He knew the stormy souls of womankind,
8 What secret springs their eager passions move,
9 How capable of death for injur'd love.
10 Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw;
11 Till neither fires nor shining shores they saw.
12 Now seas and skies their prospect only bound;
13 An empty space above, a floating field around.
14 But soon the heav'ns with shadows were o'erspread;
15 A swelling cloud hung hov'ring o'er their head:
16 Livid it look'd, the threat'ning of a storm:
17 Then night and horror ocean's face deform.
18 The pilot, Palinurus, cried aloud:
19 "What gusts of weather from that gath'ring cloud
20 My thoughts presage! Ere yet the tempest roars,
21 Stand to your tackle, mates, and stretch your oars;
22 Contract your swelling sails, and luff to wind."
23 The frighted crew perform the task assign'd.
24 Then, to his fearless chief: "Not Heav'n," said he,
25 "Tho' Jove himself should promise Italy,
26 Can stem the torrent of this raging sea.
27 Mark how the shifting winds from west arise,
28 And what collected night involves the skies!
29 Nor can our shaken vessels live at sea,
30 Much less against the tempest force their way.
31 'T is fate diverts our course, and fate we must obey.
32 Not far from hence, if I observ'd aright
33 The southing of the stars, and polar light,
34 Sicilia lies, whose hospitable shores
35 In safety we may reach with struggling oars."
36 Aeneas then replied: "Too sure I find
37 We strive in vain against the seas and wind:
38 Now shift your sails; what place can please me more
39 Than what you promise, the Sicilian shore,
40 Whose hallow'd earth Anchises' bones contains,
41 And where a prince of Trojan lineage reigns?"
42 The course resolv'd, before the western wind
43 They scud amain, and make the port assign'd.
44 Meantime Acestes, from a lofty stand,
45 Beheld the fleet descending on the land;
46 And, not unmindful of his ancient race,
47 Down from the cliff he ran with eager pace,
48 And held the hero in a strict embrace.
49 Of a rough Libyan bear the spoils he wore,
50 And either hand a pointed jav'lin bore.
51 His mother was a dame of Dardan blood;
52 His sire Crinisus, a Sicilian flood.
53 He welcomes his returning friends ashore
54 With plenteous country cates and homely store.

55 Now, when the following morn had chas'd away
56 The flying stars, and light restor'd the day,
57 Aeneas call'd the Trojan troops around,
58 And thus bespoke them from a rising ground:
59 "Offspring of heav'n, divine Dardanian race!
60 The sun, revolving thro' th' ethereal space,
61 The shining circle of the year has fill'd,
62 Since first this isle my father's ashes held:
63 And now the rising day renews the year;
64 A day for ever sad, for ever dear.
65 This would I celebrate with annual games,
66 With gifts on altars pil'd, and holy flames,
67 Tho' banish'd to Gaetulia's barren sands,
68 Caught on the Grecian seas, or hostile lands:
69 But since this happy storm our fleet has driv'n
70 (Not, as I deem, without the will of Heav'n)
71 Upon these friendly shores and flow'ry plains,
72 Which hide Anchises and his blest remains,
73 Let us with joy perform his honors due,
74 And pray for prosp'rous winds, our voyage to renew;
75 Pray, that in towns and temples of our own,
76 The name of great Anchises may be known,
77 And yearly games may spread the gods' renown.
78 Our sports Acestes, of the Trojan race,
79 With royal gifts ordain'd, is pleas'd to grace:
80 Two steers on ev'ry ship the king bestows;
81 His gods and ours shall share your equal vows.
82 Besides, if, nine days hence, the rosy morn
83 Shall with unclouded light the skies adorn,
84 That day with solemn sports I mean to grace:
85 Light galleys on the seas shall run a wat'ry race;
86 Some shall in swiftness for the goal contend,
87 And others try the twanging bow to bend;
88 The strong, with iron gauntlets arm'd, shall stand
89 Oppos'd in combat on the yellow sand.
90 Let all be present at the games prepar'd,
91 And joyful victors wait the just reward.
92 But now assist the rites, with garlands crown'd."
93 He said, and first his brows with myrtle bound.
94 Then Helymus, by his example led,
95 And old Acestes, each adorn'd his head;
96 Thus young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace,
97 His temples tied, and all the Trojan race.
98 Aeneas then advanc'd amidst the train,
99 By thousands follow'd thro' the flow'ry plain,
100 To great Anchises' tomb; which when he found,
101 He pour'd to Bacchus, on the hallow'd ground,
102 Two bowls of sparkling wine, of milk two more,
103 And two (from offer'd bulls) of purple gore,
104 With roses then the sepulcher he strow'd
105 And thus his father's ghost bespoke aloud:
106 "Hail, O ye holy manes! hail again,
107 Paternal ashes, now review'd in vain!
108 The gods permitted not, that you, with me,
109 Should reach the promis'd shores of Italy,
110 Or Tiber's flood, what flood soe'er it be."
111 Scarce had he finish'd, when, with speckled pride,
112 A serpent from the tomb began to glide;
113 His hugy bulk on sev'n high volumes roll'd;
114 Blue was his breadth of back, but streak'd with scaly gold:
115 Thus riding on his curls, he seem'd to pass
116 A rolling fire along, and singe the grass.
117 More various colors thro' his body run,
118 Than Iris when her bow imbibes the sun.
119 Betwixt the rising altars, and around,
120 The sacred monster shot along the ground;
121 With harmless play amidst the bowls he pass'd,
122 And with his lolling tongue assay'd the taste:
123 Thus fed with holy food, the wondrous guest
124 Within the hollow tomb retir'd to rest.
125 The pious prince, surpris'd at what he view'd,
126 The fun'ral honors with more zeal renew'd,
127 Doubtful if this place's genius were,
128 Or guardian of his father's sepulcher.
129 Five sheep, according to the rites, he slew;
130 As many swine, and steers of sable hue;
131 New gen'rous wine he from the goblets pour'd.
132 And call'd his father's ghost, from hell restor'd.
133 The glad attendants in long order come,
134 Off'ring their gifts at great Anchises' tomb:
135 Some add more oxen: some divide the spoil;
136 Some place the chargers on the grassy soil;
137 Some blow the fires, and off entrails broil.

138 Now came the day desir'd. The skies were bright
139 With rosy luster of the rising light:
140 The bord'ring people, rous'd by sounding fame
141 Of Trojan feasts and great Acestes' name,
142 The crowded shore with acclamations fill,
143 Part to behold, and part to prove their skill.
144 And first the gifts in public view they place,
145 Green laurel wreaths, and palm, the victors' grace:
146 Within the circle, arms and tripods lie,
147 Ingots of gold and silver, heap'd on high,
148 And vests embroider'd, of the Tyrian dye.
149 The trumpet's clangor then the feast proclaims,
150 And all prepare for their appointed games.
151 Four galleys first, which equal rowers bear,
152 Advancing, in the wat'ry lists appear.
153 The speedy Dolphin, that outstrips the wind,
154 Bore Mnestheus, author of the Memmian kind:
155 Gyas the vast Chimaera's bulk commands,
156 Which rising, like a tow'ring city stands;
157 Three Trojans tug at ev'ry lab'ring oar;
158 Three banks in three degrees the sailors bore;
159 Beneath their sturdy strokes the billows roar.
160 Sergesthus, who began the Sergian race,
161 In the great Centaur took the leading place;
162 Cloanthus on the sea-green Scylla stood,
163 From whom Cluentius draws his Trojan blood.

164 Far in the sea, against the foaming shore,
165 There stands a rock: the raging billows roar
166 Above his head in storms; but, when 't is clear,
167 Uncurl their ridgy backs, and at his foot appear.
168 In peace below the gentle waters run;
169 The cormorants above lie basking in the sun.
170 On this the hero fix'd an oak in sight,
171 The mark to guide the mariners aright.
172 To bear with this, the seamen stretch their oars;
173 Then round the rock they steer, and seek the former shores.
174 The lots decide their place. Above the rest,
175 Each leader shining in his Tyrian vest;
176 The common crew with wreaths of poplar boughs
177 Their temples crown, and shade their sweaty brows:
178 Besmear'd with oil, their naked shoulders shine.
179 All take their seats, and wait the sounding sign:
180 They gripe their oars; and ev'ry panting breast
181 Is rais'd by turns with hope, by turns with fear depress'd.
182 The clangor of the trumpet gives the sign;
183 At once they start, advancing in a line:
184 With shouts the sailors rend the starry skies;
185 Lash'd with their oars, the smoky billows rise;
186 Sparkles the briny main, and the vex'd ocean fries.
187 Exact in time, with equal strokes they row:
188 At once the brushing oars and brazen prow
189 Dash up the sandy waves, and ope the depths below.
190 Not fiery coursers, in a chariot race,
191 Invade the field with half so swift a pace;
192 Not the fierce driver with more fury lends
193 The sounding lash, and, ere the stroke descends,
194 Low to the wheels his pliant body bends.
195 The partial crowd their hopes and fears divide,
196 And aid with eager shouts the favor'd side.
197 Cries, murmurs, clamors, with a mixing sound,
198 From woods to woods, from hills to hills rebound.

199 Amidst the loud applauses of the shore,
200 Gyas outstripp'd the rest, and sprung before:
201 Cloanthus, better mann'd, pursued him fast,
202 But his o'er-masted galley check'd his haste.
203 The Centaur and the Dolphin brush the brine
204 With equal oars, advancing in a line;
205 And now the mighty Centaur seems to lead,
206 And now the speedy Dolphin gets ahead;
207 Now board to board the rival vessels row,
208 The billows lave the skies, and ocean groans below.
209 They reach'd the mark. Proud Gyas and his train
210 In triumph rode, the victors of the main;
211 But, steering round, he charg'd his pilot stand
212 More close to shore, and skim along the sand-
213 "Let others bear to sea!" Menoetes heard;
214 But secret shelves too cautiously he fear'd,
215 And, fearing, sought the deep; and still aloof he steer'd.
216 With louder cries the captain call'd again:
217 "Bear to the rocky shore, and shun the main."
218 He spoke, and, speaking, at his stern he saw
219 The bold Cloanthus near the shelvings draw.
220 Betwixt the mark and him the Scylla stood,
221 And in a closer compass plow'd the flood.
222 He pass'd the mark; and, wheeling, got before:
223 Gyas blasphem'd the gods, devoutly swore,
224 Cried out for anger, and his hair he tore.
225 Mindless of others' lives (so high was grown
226 His rising rage) and careless of his own,
227 The trembling dotard to the deck he drew;
228 Then hoisted up, and overboard he threw:
229 This done, he seiz'd the helm; his fellows cheer'd,
230 Turn'd short upon the shelfs, and madly steer'd.

231 Hardly his head the plunging pilot rears,
232 Clogg'd with his clothes, and cumber'd with his years:
233 Now dropping wet, he climbs the cliff with pain.
234 The crowd, that saw him fall and float again,
235 Shout from the distant shore; and loudly laugh'd,
236 To see his heaving breast disgorge the briny draught.
237 The following Centaur, and the Dolphin's crew,
238 Their vanish'd hopes of victory renew;
239 While Gyas lags, they kindle in the race,
240 To reach the mark. Sergesthus takes the place;
241 Mnestheus pursues; and while around they wind,
242 Comes up, not half his galley's length behind;
243 Then, on the deck, amidst his mates appear'd,
244 And thus their drooping courage he cheer'd:
245 "My friends, and Hector's followers heretofore,
246 Exert your vigor; tug the lab'ring oar;
247 Stretch to your strokes, my still unconquer'd crew,
248 Whom from the flaming walls of Troy I drew.
249 In this, our common int'rest, let me find
250 That strength of hand, that courage of the mind,
251 As when you stemm'd the strong Malean flood,
252 And o'er the Syrtes' broken billows row'd.
253 I seek not now the foremost palm to gain;
254 Tho' yet- but, ah! that haughty wish is vain!
255 Let those enjoy it whom the gods ordain.
256 But to be last, the lags of all the race!-
257 Redeem yourselves and me from that disgrace."
258 Now, one and all, they tug amain; they row
259 At the full stretch, and shake the brazen prow.
260 The sea beneath 'em sinks; their lab'ring sides
261 Are swell'd, and sweat runs gutt'ring down in tides.
262 Chance aids their daring with unhop'd success;
263 Sergesthus, eager with his beak to press
264 Betwixt the rival galley and the rock,
265 Shuts up th' unwieldly Centaur in the lock.
266 The vessel struck; and, with the dreadful shock,
267 Her oars she shiver'd, and her head she broke.
268 The trembling rowers from their banks arise,
269 And, anxious for themselves, renounce the prize.
270 With iron poles they heave her off the shores,
271 And gather from the sea their floating oars.
272 The crew of Mnestheus, with elated minds,
273 Urge their success, and call the willing winds;
274 Then ply their oars, and cut their liquid way
275 In larger compass on the roomy sea.
276 As, when the dove her rocky hold forsakes,
277 Rous'd in a fright, her sounding wings she shakes;
278 The cavern rings with clatt'ring; out she flies,
279 And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies:
280 At first she flutters; but at length she springs
281 To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings:
282 So Mnestheus in the Dolphin cuts the sea;
283 And, flying with a force, that force assists his way.
284 Sergesthus in the Centaur soon he pass'd,
285 Wedg'd in the rocky shoals, and sticking fast.
286 In vain the victor he with cries implores,
287 And practices to row with shatter'd oars.
288 Then Mnestheus bears with Gyas, and outflies:
289 The ship, without a pilot, yields the prize.
290 Unvanquish'd Scylla now alone remains;
291 Her he pursues, and all his vigor strains.
292 Shouts from the fav'ring multitude arise;
293 Applauding Echo to the shouts replies;
294 Shouts, wishes, and applause run rattling thro' the skies.
295 These clamors with disdain the Scylla heard,
296 Much grudg'd the praise, but more the robb'd reward:
297 Resolv'd to hold their own, they mend their pace,
298 All obstinate to die, or gain the race.
299 Rais'd with success, the Dolphin swiftly ran;
300 For they can conquer, who believe they can.
301 Both urge their oars, and fortune both supplies,
302 And both perhaps had shar'd an equal prize;
303 When to the seas Cloanthus holds his hands,
304 And succor from the wat'ry pow'rs demands:
305 "Gods of the liquid realms, on which I row!
306 If, giv'n by you, the laurel bind my brow,
307 Assist to make me guilty of my vow!
308 A snow-white bull shall on your shore be slain;
309 His offer'd entrails cast into the main,
310 And ruddy wine, from golden goblets thrown,
311 Your grateful gift and my return shall own."
312 The choir of nymphs, and Phorcus, from below,
313 With virgin Panopea, heard his vow;
314 And old Portunus, with his breadth of hand,
315 Push'd on, and sped the galley to the land.
316 Swift as a shaft, or winged wind, she flies,
317 And, darting to the port, obtains the prize.

318 The herald summons all, and then proclaims
319 Cloanthus conqu'ror of the naval games.
320 The prince with laurel crowns the victor's head,
321 And three fat steers are to his vessel led,
322 The ship's reward; with gen'rous wine beside,
323 And sums of silver, which the crew divide.
324 The leaders are distinguish'd from the rest;
325 The victor honor'd with a nobler vest,
326 Where gold and purple strive in equal rows,
327 And needlework its happy cost bestows.
328 There Ganymede is wrought with living art,
329 Chasing thro' Ida's groves the trembling hart:
330 Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue;
331 When from aloft descends, in open view,
332 The bird of Jove, and, sousing on his prey,
333 With crooked talons bears the boy away.
334 In vain, with lifted hands and gazing eyes,
335 His guards behold him soaring thro' the skies,
336 And dogs pursue his flight with imitated cries.

337 Mnestheus the second victor was declar'd;
338 And, summon'd there, the second prize he shard.
339 A coat of mail, brave Demoleus bore,
340 More brave Aeneas from his shoulders tore,
341 In single combat on the Trojan shore:
342 This was ordain'd for Mnestheus to possess;
343 In war for his defense, for ornament in peace.
344 Rich was the gift, and glorious to behold,
345 But yet so pond'rous with its plates of gold,
346 That scarce two servants could the weight sustain;
347 Yet, loaded thus, Demoleus o'er the plain
348 Pursued and lightly seiz'd the Trojan train.
349 The third, succeeding to the last reward,
350 Two goodly bowls of massy silver shar'd,
351 With figures prominent, and richly wrought,
352 And two brass caldrons from Dodona brought.

353 Thus all, rewarded by the hero's hands,
354 Their conqu'ring temples bound with purple bands;
355 And now Sergesthus, clearing from the rock,
356 Brought back his galley shatter'd with the shock.
357 Forlorn she look'd, without an aiding oar,
358 And, houted by the vulgar, made to shore.
359 As when a snake, surpris'd upon the road,
360 Is crush'd athwart her body by the load
361 Of heavy wheels; or with a mortal wound
362 Her belly bruis'd, and trodden to the ground:
363 In vain, with loosen'd curls, she crawls along;
364 Yet, fierce above, she brandishes her tongue;
365 Glares with her eyes, and bristles with her scales;
366 But, groveling in the dust, her parts unsound she trails:
367 So slowly to the port the Centaur tends,
368 But, what she wants in oars, with sails amends.
369 Yet, for his galley sav'd, the grateful prince
370 Is pleas'd th' unhappy chief to recompense.
371 Pholoe, the Cretan slave, rewards his care,
372 Beauteous herself, with lovely twins as fair.

373 From thence his way the Trojan hero bent
374 Into the neighb'ring plain, with mountains pent,
375 Whose sides were shaded with surrounding wood.
376 Full in the midst of this fair valley stood
377 A native theater, which, rising slow
378 By just degrees, o'erlook'd the ground below.
379 High on a sylvan throne the leader sate;
380 A num'rous train attend in solemn state.
381 Here those that in the rapid course delight,
382 Desire of honor and the prize invite.
383 The rival runners without order stand;
384 The Trojans mix'd with the Sicilian band.
385 First Nisus, with Euryalus, appears;
386 Euryalus a boy of blooming years,
387 With sprightly grace and equal beauty crown'd;
388 Nisus, for friendship to the youth renown'd.
389 Diores next, of Priam's royal race,
390 Then Salius joined with Patron, took their place;
391 (But Patron in Arcadia had his birth,
392 And Salius his from Arcananian earth;)
393 Then two Sicilian youths- the names of these,
394 Swift Helymus, and lovely Panopes:
395 Both jolly huntsmen, both in forest bred,
396 And owning old Acestes for their head;
397 With sev'ral others of ignobler name,
398 Whom time has not deliver'd o'er to fame.

399 To these the hero thus his thoughts explain'd,
400 In words which gen'ral approbation gain'd:
401 "One common largess is for all design'd,
402 (The vanquish'd and the victor shall be join'd,)
403 Two darts of polish'd steel and Gnosian wood,
404 A silver-studded ax, alike bestow'd.
405 The foremost three have olive wreaths decreed:
406 The first of these obtains a stately steed,
407 Adorn'd with trappings; and the next in fame,
408 The quiver of an Amazonian dame,
409 With feather'd Thracian arrows well supplied:
410 A golden belt shall gird his manly side,
411 Which with a sparkling diamond shall be tied.
412 The third this Grecian helmet shall content."
413 He said. To their appointed base they went;
414 With beating hearts th' expected sign receive,
415 And, starting all at once, the barrier leave.
416 Spread out, as on the winged winds, they flew,
417 And seiz'd the distant goal with greedy view.
418 Shot from the crowd, swift Nisus all o'erpass'd;
419 Nor storms, nor thunder, equal half his haste.
420 The next, but tho' the next, yet far disjoin'd,
421 Came Salius, and Euryalus behind;
422 Then Helymus, whom young Diores plied,
423 Step after step, and almost side by side,
424 His shoulders pressing; and, in longer space,
425 Had won, or left at least a dubious race.

426 Now, spent, the goal they almost reach at last,
427 When eager Nisus, hapless in his haste,
428 Slipp'd first, and, slipping, fell upon the plain,
429 Soak'd with the blood of oxen newly slain.
430 The careless victor had not mark'd his way;
431 But, treading where the treach'rous puddle lay,
432 His heels flew up; and on the grassy floor
433 He fell, besmear'd with filth and holy gore.
434 Not mindless then, Euryalus, of thee,
435 Nor of the sacred bonds of amity,
436 He strove th' immediate rival's hope to cross,
437 And caught the foot of Salius as he rose.
438 So Salius lay extended on the plain;
439 Euryalus springs out, the prize to gain,
440 And leaves the crowd: applauding peals attend
441 The victor to the goal, who vanquish'd by his friend.
442 Next Helymus; and then Diores came,
443 By two misfortunes made the third in fame.

444 But Salius enters, and, exclaiming loud
445 For justice, deafens and disturbs the crowd;
446 Urges his cause may in the court be heard;
447 And pleads the prize is wrongfully conferr'd.
448 But favor for Euryalus appears;
449 His blooming beauty, with his tender tears,
450 Had brib'd the judges for the promis'd prize.
451 Besides, Diores fills the court with cries,
452 Who vainly reaches at the last reward,
453 If the first palm on Salius be conferr'd.
454 Then thus the prince: "Let no disputes arise:
455 Where fortune plac'd it, I award the prize.
456 But fortune's errors give me leave to mend,
457 At least to pity my deserving friend."
458 He said, and, from among the spoils, he draws
459 (Pond'rous with shaggy mane and golden paws)
460 A lion's hide: to Salius this he gives.
461 Nisus with envy sees the gift, and grieves.
462 "If such rewards to vanquish'd men are due."
463 He said, "and falling is to rise by you,
464 What prize may Nisus from your bounty claim,
465 Who merited the first rewards and fame?
466 In falling, both an equal fortune tried;
467 Would fortune for my fall so well provide!"
468 With this he pointed to his face, and show'd
469 His hand and all his habit smear'd with blood.
470 Th' indulgent father of the people smil'd,
471 And caus'd to be produc'd an ample shield,
472 Of wondrous art, by Didymaon wrought,
473 Long since from Neptune's bars in triumph brought.
474 This giv'n to Nisus, he divides the rest,
475 And equal justice in his gifts express'd.

476 The race thus ended, and rewards bestow'd,
477 Once more the princes bespeaks th' attentive crowd:
478 "If there he here whose dauntless courage dare
479 In gauntlet-fight, with limbs and body bare,
480 His opposite sustain in open view,
481 Stand forth the champion, and the games renew.
482 Two prizes I propose, and thus divide:
483 A bull with gilded horns, and fillets tied,
484 Shall be the portion of the conqu'ring chief;
485 A sword and helm shall cheer the loser's grief."

486 Then haughty Dares in the lists appears;
487 Stalking he strides, his head erected bears:
488 His nervous arms the weighty gauntlet wield,
489 And loud applauses echo thro' the field.
490 Dares alone in combat us'd to stand
491 The match of mighty Paris, hand to hand;
492 The same, at Hector's fun'rals, undertook
493 Gigantic Butes, of th' Amycian stock,
494 And, by the stroke of his resistless hand,
495 Stretch'd the vast bulk upon the yellow sand.
496 Such Dares was; and such he strode along,
497 And drew the wonder of the gazing throng.
498 His brawny back and ample breast he shows,
499 His lifted arms around his head he throws,
500 And deals in whistling air his empty blows.
501 His match is sought; but, thro' the trembling band,
502 Not one dares answer to the proud demand.
503 Presuming of his force, with sparkling eyes
504 Already he devours the promis'd prize.
505 He claims the bull with awless insolence,
506 And having seiz'd his horns, accosts the prince:
507 "If none my matchless valor dares oppose,
508 How long shall Dares wait his dastard foes?
509 Permit me, chief, permit without delay,
510 To lead this uncontended gift away."
511 The crowd assents, and with redoubled cries
512 For the proud challenger demands the prize.

513 Acestes, fir'd with just disdain, to see
514 The palm usurp'd without a victory,
515 Reproach'd Entellus thus, who sate beside,
516 And heard and saw, unmov'd, the Trojan's pride:
517 "Once, but in vain, a champion of renown,
518 So tamely can you bear the ravish'd crown,
519 A prize in triumph borne before your sight,
520 And shun, for fear, the danger of the fight?
521 Where is our Eryx now, the boasted name,
522 The god who taught your thund'ring arm the game?
523 Where now your baffled honor? Where the spoil
524 That fill'd your house, and fame that fill'd our isle?"
525 Entellus, thus: "My soul is still the same,
526 Unmov'd with fear, and mov'd with martial fame;
527 But my chill blood is curdled in my veins,
528 And scarce the shadow of a man remains.
529 O could I turn to that fair prime again,
530 That prime of which this boaster is so vain,
531 The brave, who this decrepid age defies,
532 Should feel my force, without the promis'd prize."

533 He said; and, rising at the word, he threw
534 Two pond'rous gauntlets down in open view;
535 Gauntlets which Eryx wont in fight to wield,
536 And sheathe his hands with in the listed field.
537 With fear and wonder seiz'd, the crowd beholds
538 The gloves of death, with sev'n distinguish'd folds
539 Of tough bull hides; the space within is spread
540 With iron, or with loads of heavy lead:
541 Dares himself was daunted at the sight,
542 Renounc'd his challenge, and refus'd to fight.
543 Astonish'd at their weight, the hero stands,
544 And pois'd the pond'rous engines in his hands.
545 "What had your wonder," said Entellus, "been,
546 Had you the gauntlets of Alcides seen,
547 Or view'd the stern debate on this unhappy green!
548 These which I bear your brother Eryx bore,
549 Still mark'd with batter'd brains and mingled gore.
550 With these he long sustain'd th' Herculean arm;
551 And these I wielded while my blood was warm,
552 This languish'd frame while better spirits fed,
553 Ere age unstrung my nerves, or time o'ersnow'd my head.
554 But if the challenger these arms refuse,
555 And cannot wield their weight, or dare not use;
556 If great Aeneas and Acestes join
557 In his request, these gauntlets I resign;
558 Let us with equal arms perform the fight,
559 And let him leave to fear, since I resign my right."

560 This said, Entellus for the strife prepares;
561 Stripp'd of his quilted coat, his body bares;
562 Compos'd of mighty bones and brawn he stands,
563 A goodly tow'ring object on the sands.
564 Then just Aeneas equal arms supplied,
565 Which round their shoulders to their wrists they tied.
566 Both on the tiptoe stand, at full extent,
567 Their arms aloft, their bodies inly bent;
568 Their heads from aiming blows they bear afar;
569 With clashing gauntlets then provoke the war.
570 One on his youth and pliant limbs relies;
571 One on his sinews and his giant size.
572 The last is stiff with age, his motion slow;
573 He heaves for breath, he staggers to and fro,
574 And clouds of issuing smoke his nostrils loudly blow.
575 Yet equal in success, they ward, they strike;
576 Their ways are diff'rent, but their art alike.
577 Before, behind, the blows are dealt; around
578 Their hollow sides the rattling thumps resound.
579 A storm of strokes, well meant, with fury flies,
580 And errs about their temples, ears, and eyes.
581 Nor always errs; for oft the gauntlet draws
582 A sweeping stroke along the crackling jaws.
583 Heavy with age, Entellus stands his ground,
584 But with his warping body wards the wound.
585 His hand and watchful eye keep even pace;
586 While Dares traverses and shifts his place,
587 And, like a captain who beleaguers round
588 Some strong-built castle on a rising ground,
589 Views all th' approaches with observing eyes:
590 This and that other part in vain he tries,
591 And more on industry than force relies.
592 With hands on high, Entellus threats the foe;
593 But Dares watch'd the motion from below,
594 And slipp'd aside, and shunn'd the long descending blow.
595 Entellus wastes his forces on the wind,
596 And, thus deluded of the stroke design'd,
597 Headlong and heavy fell; his ample breast
598 And weighty limbs his ancient mother press'd.
599 So falls a hollow pine, that long had stood
600 On Ida's height, or Erymanthus' wood,
601 Torn from the roots. The diff'ring nations rise,
602 And shouts and mingled murmurs rend the skies,
603 Acestus runs with eager haste, to raise
604 The fall'n companion of his youthful days.
605 Dauntless he rose, and to the fight return'd;
606 With shame his glowing cheeks, his eyes with fury burn'd.
607 Disdain and conscious virtue fir'd his breast,
608 And with redoubled force his foe he press'd.
609 He lays on load with either hand, amain,
610 And headlong drives the Trojan o'er the plain;
611 Nor stops, nor stays; nor rest nor breath allows;
612 But storms of strokes descend about his brows,
613 A rattling tempest, and a hail of blows.
614 But now the prince, who saw the wild increase
615 Of wounds, commands the combatants to cease,
616 And bounds Entellus' wrath, and bids the peace.
617 First to the Trojan, spent with toil, he came,
618 And sooth'd his sorrow for the suffer'd shame.
619 "What fury seiz'd my friend? The gods," said he,
620 "To him propitious, and averse to thee,
621 Have giv'n his arm superior force to thine.
622 'T is madness to contend with strength divine."
623 The gauntlet fight thus ended, from the shore
624 His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore:
625 His mouth and nostrils pour'd a purple flood,
626 And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood.
627 Faintly he stagger'd thro' the hissing throng,
628 And hung his head, and trail'd his legs along.
629 The sword and casque are carried by his train;
630 But with his foe the palm and ox remain.

631 The champion, then, before Aeneas came,
632 Proud of his prize, but prouder of his fame:
633 "O goddess-born, and you, Dardanian host,
634 Mark with attention, and forgive my boast;
635 Learn what I was, by what remains; and know
636 From what impending fate you sav'd my foe."
637 Sternly he spoke, and then confronts the bull;
638 And, on his ample forehead aiming full,
639 The deadly stroke, descending, pierc'd the skull.
640 Down drops the beast, nor needs a second wound,
641 But sprawls in pangs of death, and spurns the ground.
642 Then, thus: "In Dares' stead I offer this.
643 Eryx, accept a nobler sacrifice;
644 Take the last gift my wither'd arms can yield:
645 Thy gauntlets I resign, and here renounce the field."

646 This done, Aeneas orders, for the close,
647 The strife of archers with contending bows.
648 The mast Sergesthus' shatter'd galley bore
649 With his own hands he raises on the shore.
650 A flutt'ring dove upon the top they tie,
651 The living mark at which their arrows fly.
652 The rival archers in a line advance,
653 Their turn of shooting to receive from chance.
654 A helmet holds their names; the lots are drawn:
655 On the first scroll was read Hippocoon.
656 The people shout. Upon the next was found
657 Young Mnestheus, late with naval honors crown'd.
658 The third contain'd Eurytion's noble name,
659 Thy brother, Pandarus, and next in fame,
660 Whom Pallas urg'd the treaty to confound,
661 And send among the Greeks a feather'd wound.
662 Acestes in the bottom last remain'd,
663 Whom not his age from youthful sports restrain'd.
664 Soon all with vigor bend their trusty bows,
665 And from the quiver each his arrow chose.
666 Hippocoon's was the first: with forceful sway
667 It flew, and, whizzing, cut the liquid way.
668 Fix'd in the mast the feather'd weapon stands:
669 The fearful pigeon flutters in her bands,
670 And the tree trembled, and the shouting cries
671 Of the pleas'd people rend the vaulted skies.
672 Then Mnestheus to the head his arrow drove,
673 With lifted eyes, and took his aim above,
674 But made a glancing shot, and missed the dove;
675 Yet miss'd so narrow, that he cut the cord
676 Which fasten'd by the foot the flitting bird.
677 The captive thus releas'd, away she flies,
678 And beats with clapping wings the yielding skies.
679 His bow already bent, Eurytion stood;
680 And, having first invok'd his brother god,
681 His winged shaft with eager haste he sped.
682 The fatal message reach'd her as she fled:
683 She leaves her life aloft; she strikes the ground,
684 And renders back the weapon in the wound.
685 Acestes, grudging at his lot, remains,
686 Without a prize to gratify his pains.
687 Yet, shooting upward, sends his shaft, to show
688 An archer's art, and boast his twanging bow.
689 The feather'd arrow gave a dire portent,
690 And latter augurs judge from this event.
691 Chaf'd by the speed, it fir'd; and, as it flew,
692 A trail of following flames ascending drew:
693 Kindling they mount, and mark the shiny way;
694 Across the skies as falling meteors play,
695 And vanish into wind, or in a blaze decay.
696 The Trojans and Sicilians wildly stare,
697 And, trembling, turn their wonder into pray'r.
698 The Dardan prince put on a smiling face,
699 And strain'd Acestes with a close embrace;
700 Then, hon'ring him with gifts above the rest,
701 Turn'd the bad omen, nor his fears confess'd.
702 "The gods," said he, "this miracle have wrought,
703 And order'd you the prize without the lot.
704 Accept this goblet, rough with figur'd gold,
705 Which Thracian Cisseus gave my sire of old:
706 This pledge of ancient amity receive,
707 Which to my second sire I justly give."
708 He said, and, with the trumpets' cheerful sound,
709 Proclaim'd him victor, and with laurel-crown'd.
710 Nor good Eurytion envied him the prize,
711 Tho' he transfix'd the pigeon in the skies.
712 Who cut the line, with second gifts was grac'd;
713 The third was his whose arrow pierc'd the mast.

714 The chief, before the games were wholly done,
715 Call'd Periphantes, tutor to his son,
716 And whisper'd thus: "With speed Ascanius find;
717 And, if his childish troop be ready join'd,
718 On horseback let him grace his grandsire's day,
719 And lead his equals arm'd in just array."
720 He said; and, calling out, the cirque he clears.
721 The crowd withdrawn, an open plain appears.
722 And now the noble youths, of form divine,
723 Advance before their fathers, in a line;
724 The riders grace the steeds; the steeds with glory shine.

725 Thus marching on in military pride,
726 Shouts of applause resound from side to side.
727 Their casques adorn'd with laurel wreaths they wear,
728 Each brandishing aloft a cornel spear.
729 Some at their backs their gilded quivers bore;
730 Their chains of burnish'd gold hung down before.
731 Three graceful troops they form'd upon the green;
732 Three graceful leaders at their head were seen;
733 Twelve follow'd ev'ry chief, and left a space between.
734 The first young Priam led; a lovely boy,
735 Whose grandsire was th' unhappy king of Troy;
736 His race in after times was known to fame,
737 New honors adding to the Latian name;
738 And well the royal boy his Thracian steed became.
739 White were the fetlocks of his feet before,
740 And on his front a snowy star he bore.
741 Then beauteous Atys, with Iulus bred,
742 Of equal age, the second squadron led.
743 The last in order, but the first in place,
744 First in the lovely features of his face,
745 Rode fair Ascanius on a fiery steed,
746 Queen Dido's gift, and of the Tyrian breed.
747 Sure coursers for the rest the king ordains,
748 With golden bits adorn'd, and purple reins.

749 The pleas'd spectators peals of shouts renew,
750 And all the parents in the children view;
751 Their make, their motions, and their sprightly grace,
752 And hopes and fears alternate in their face.

753 Th' unfledg'd commanders and their martial train
754 First make the circuit of the sandy plain
755 Around their sires, and, at th' appointed sign,
756 Drawn up in beauteous order, form a line.
757 The second signal sounds, the troop divides
758 In three distinguish'd parts, with three distinguish'd guides
759 Again they close, and once again disjoin;
760 In troop to troop oppos'd, and line to line.
761 They meet; they wheel; they throw their darts afar
762 With harmless rage and well-dissembled war.
763 Then in a round the mingled bodies run:
764 Flying they follow, and pursuing shun;
765 Broken, they break; and, rallying, they renew
766 In other forms the military shew.
767 At last, in order, undiscern'd they join,
768 And march together in a friendly line.
769 And, as the Cretan labyrinth of old,
770 With wand'ring ways and many a winding fold,
771 Involv'd the weary feet, without redress,
772 In a round error, which denied recess;
773 So fought the Trojan boys in warlike play,
774 Turn'd and return'd, and still a diff'rent way.
775 Thus dolphins in the deep each other chase
776 In circles, when they swim around the wat'ry race.
777 This game, these carousels, Ascanius taught;
778 And, building Alba, to the Latins brought;
779 Shew'd what he learn'd: the Latin sires impart
780 To their succeeding sons the graceful art;
781 From these imperial Rome receiv'd the game,
782 Which Troy, the youths the Trojan troop, they name.

783 Thus far the sacred sports they celebrate:
784 But Fortune soon resum'd her ancient hate;
785 For, while they pay the dead his annual dues,
786 Those envied rites Saturnian Juno views;
787 And sends the goddess of the various bow,
788 To try new methods of revenge below;
789 Supplies the winds to wing her airy way,
790 Where in the port secure the navy lay.
791 Swiftly fair Iris down her arch descends,
792 And, undiscern'd, her fatal voyage ends.
793 She saw the gath'ring crowd; and, gliding thence,
794 The desart shore, and fleet without defense.
795 The Trojan matrons, on the sands alone,
796 With sighs and tears Anchises' death bemoan;
797 Then, turning to the sea their weeping eyes,
798 Their pity to themselves renews their cries.
799 "Alas!" said one, "what oceans yet remain
800 For us to sail! what labors to sustain!"
801 All take the word, and, with a gen'ral groan,
802 Implore the gods for peace, and places of their own.

803 The goddess, great in mischief, views their pains,
804 And in a woman's form her heav'nly limbs restrains.
805 In face and shape old Beroe she became,
806 Doryclus' wife, a venerable dame,
807 Once blest with riches, and a mother's name.
808 Thus chang'd, amidst the crying crowd she ran,
809 Mix'd with the matrons, and these words began:
810 "O wretched we, whom not the Grecian pow'r,
811 Nor flames, destroy'd, in Troy's unhappy hour!
812 O wretched we, reserv'd by cruel fate,
813 Beyond the ruins of the sinking state!
814 Now sev'n revolving years are wholly run,
815 Since this improsp'rous voyage we begun;
816 Since, toss'd from shores to shores, from lands to lands,
817 Inhospitable rocks and barren sands,
818 Wand'ring in exile thro' the stormy sea,
819 We search in vain for flying Italy.
820 Now cast by fortune on this kindred land,
821 What should our rest and rising walls withstand,
822 Or hinder here to fix our banish'd band?
823 O country lost, and gods redeem'd in vain,
824 If still in endless exile we remain!
825 Shall we no more the Trojan walls renew,
826 Or streams of some dissembled Simois view!
827 Haste, join with me, th' unhappy fleet consume!
828 Cassandra bids; and I declare her doom.
829 In sleep I saw her; she supplied my hands
830 (For this I more than dreamt) with flaming brands:
831 'With these,' said she, 'these wand'ring ships destroy:
832 These are your fatal seats, and this your Troy.'
833 Time calls you now; the precious hour employ:
834 Slack not the good presage, while Heav'n inspires
835 Our minds to dare, and gives the ready fires.
836 See! Neptune's altars minister their brands:
837 The god is pleas'd; the god supplies our hands."
838 Then from the pile a flaming fire she drew,
839 And, toss'd in air, amidst the galleys threw.

840 Wrapp'd in amaze, the matrons wildly stare:
841 Then Pyrgo, reverenc'd for her hoary hair,
842 Pyrgo, the nurse of Priam's num'rous race:
843 "No Beroe this, tho' she belies her face!
844 What terrors from her frowning front arise!
845 Behold a goddess in her ardent eyes!
846 What rays around her heav'nly face are seen!
847 Mark her majestic voice, and more than mortal mien!
848 Beroe but now I left, whom, pin'd with pain,
849 Her age and anguish from these rites detain,"
850 She said. The matrons, seiz'd with new amaze,
851 Roll their malignant eyes, and on the navy gaze.
852 They fear, and hope, and neither part obey:
853 They hope the fated land, but fear the fatal way.
854 The goddess, having done her task below,
855 Mounts up on equal wings, and bends her painted bow.
856 Struck with the sight, and seiz'd with rage divine,
857 The matrons prosecute their mad design:
858 They shriek aloud; they snatch, with impious hands,
859 The food of altars; fires and flaming brands.
860 Green boughs and saplings, mingled in their haste,
861 And smoking torches, on the ships they cast.
862 The flame, unstopp'd at first, more fury gains,
863 And Vulcan rides at large with loosen'd reins:
864 Triumphant to the painted sterns he soars,
865 And seizes, in this way, the banks and crackling oars.
866 Eumelus was the first the news to bear,
867 While yet they crowd the rural theater.
868 Then, what they hear, is witness'd by their eyes:
869 A storm of sparkles and of flames arise.
870 Ascanius took th' alarm, while yet he led
871 His early warriors on his prancing steed,
872 And, spurring on, his equals soon o'erpass'd;
873 Nor could his frighted friends reclaim his haste.
874 Soon as the royal youth appear'd in view,
875 He sent his voice before him as he flew:
876 "What madness moves you, matrons, to destroy
877 The last remainders of unhappy Troy!
878 Not hostile fleets, but your own hopes, you burn,
879 And on your friends your fatal fury turn.
880 Behold your own Ascanius!" While he said,
881 He drew his glitt'ring helmet from his head,
882 In which the youths to sportful arms he led.
883 By this, Aeneas and his train appear;
884 And now the women, seiz'd with shame and fear,
885 Dispers'd, to woods and caverns take their flight,
886 Abhor their actions, and avoid the light;
887 Their friends acknowledge, and their error find,
888 And shake the goddess from their alter'd mind.

889 Not so the raging fires their fury cease,
890 But, lurking in the seams, with seeming peace,
891 Work on their way amid the smold'ring tow,
892 Sure in destruction, but in motion slow.
893 The silent plague thro' the green timber eats,
894 And vomits out a tardy flame by fits.
895 Down to the keels, and upward to the sails,
896 The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails;
897 Nor buckets pour'd, nor strength of human hand,
898 Can the victorious element withstand.

899 The pious hero rends his robe, and throws
900 To heav'n his hands, and with his hands his vows.
901 "O Jove," he cried, "if pray'rs can yet have place;
902 If thou abhorr'st not all the Dardan race;
903 If any spark of pity still remain;
904 If gods are gods, and not invok'd in vain;
905 Yet spare the relics of the Trojan train!
906 Yet from the flames our burning vessels free,
907 Or let thy fury fall alone on me!
908 At this devoted head thy thunder throw,
909 And send the willing sacrifice below!"

910 Scarce had he said, when southern storms arise:
911 From pole to pole the forky lightning flies;
912 Loud rattling shakes the mountains and the plain;
913 Heav'n bellies downward, and descends in rain.
914 Whole sheets of water from the clouds are sent,
915 Which, hissing thro' the planks, the flames prevent,
916 And stop the fiery pest. Four ships alone
917 Burn to the waist, and for the fleet atone.

918 But doubtful thoughts the hero's heart divide;
919 If he should still in Sicily reside,
920 Forgetful of his fates, or tempt the main,
921 In hope the promis'd Italy to gain.
922 Then Nautes, old and wise, to whom alone
923 The will of Heav'n by Pallas was foreshown;
924 Vers'd in portents, experienc'd, and inspir'd
925 To tell events, and what the fates requir'd;
926 Thus while he stood, to neither part inclin'd,
927 With cheerful words reliev'd his lab'ring mind:
928 "O goddess-born, resign'd in ev'ry state,
929 With patience bear, with prudence push your fate.
930 By suff'ring well, our Fortune we subdue;
931 Fly when she frowns, and, when she calls, pursue.
932 Your friend Acestes is of Trojan kind;
933 To him disclose the secrets of your mind:
934 Trust in his hands your old and useless train;
935 Too num'rous for the ships which yet remain:
936 The feeble, old, indulgent of their ease,
937 The dames who dread the dangers of the seas,
938 With all the dastard crew, who dare not stand
939 The shock of battle with your foes by land.
940 Here you may build a common town for all,
941 And, from Acestes' name, Acesta call."
942 The reasons, with his friend's experience join'd,
943 Encourag'd much, but more disturb'd his mind.

944 'T was dead of night; when to his slumb'ring eyes
945 His father's shade descended from the skies,
946 And thus he spoke: "O more than vital breath,
947 Lov'd while I liv'd, and dear ev'n after death;
948 O son, in various toils and troubles toss'd,
949 The King of Heav'n employs my careful ghost
950 On his commands: the god, who sav'd from fire
951 Your flaming fleet, and heard your just desire.
952 The wholesome counsel of your friend receive,
953 And here the coward train and woman leave:
954 The chosen youth, and those who nobly dare,
955 Transport, to tempt the dangers of the war.
956 The stern Italians will their courage try;
957 Rough are their manners, and their minds are high.
958 But first to Pluto's palace you shall go,
959 And seek my shade among the blest below:
960 For not with impious ghosts my soul remains,
961 Nor suffers with the damn'd perpetual pains,
962 But breathes the living air of soft Elysian plains.
963 The chaste Sibylla shall your steps convey,
964 And blood of offer'd victims free the way.
965 There shall you know what realms the gods assign,
966 And learn the fates and fortunes of your line.
967 But now, farewell! I vanish with the night,
968 And feel the blast of heav'n's approaching light."

969 He said, and mix'd with shades, and took his airy flight.
970 "Whither so fast?" the filial duty cried;
971 "And why, ah why, the wish'd embrace denied?"
972 He said, and rose; as holy zeal inspires,
973 He rakes hot embers, and renews the fires;
974 His country gods and Vesta then adores
975 With cakes and incense, and their aid implores.
976 Next, for his friends and royal host he sent,
977 Reveal'd his vision, and the gods' intent,
978 With his own purpose. All, without delay,
979 The will of Jove, and his desires obey.
980 They list with women each degenerate name,
981 Who dares not hazard life for future fame.
982 These they cashier: the brave remaining few,
983 Oars, banks, and cables, half consum'd, renew.
984 The prince designs a city with the plow;
985 The lots their sev'ral tenements allow.
986 This part is nam'd from Ilium, that from Troy,
987 And the new king ascends the throne with joy;
988 A chosen senate from the people draws;
989 Appoints the judges, and ordains the laws.
990 Then, on the top of Eryx, they begin
991 A rising temple to the Paphian queen.
992 Anchises, last, is honor'd as a god;
993 A priest is added, annual gifts bestow'd,
994 And groves are planted round his blest abode.
995 Nine days they pass in feasts, their temples crown'd;
996 And fumes of incense in the fanes abound.
997 Then from the south arose a gentle breeze
998 That curl'd the smoothness of the glassy seas;
999 The rising winds a ruffling gale afford,
1000 And call the merry mariners aboard.

1001 Now loud laments along the shores resound,
1002 Of parting friends in close embraces bound.
1003 The trembling women, the degenerate train,
1004 Who shunn'd the frightful dangers of the main,
1005 Ev'n those desire to sail, and take their share
1006 Of the rough passage and the promis'd war:
1007 Whom good Aeneas cheers, and recommends
1008 To their new master's care his fearful friends.
1009 On Eryx's altars three fat calves he lays;
1010 A lamb new-fallen to the stormy seas;
1011 Then slips his haulsers, and his anchors weighs.
1012 High on the deck the godlike hero stands,
1013 With olive crown'd, a charger in his hands;
1014 Then cast the reeking entrails in the brine,
1015 And pour'd the sacrifice of purple wine.
1016 Fresh gales arise; with equal strokes they vie,
1017 And brush the buxom seas, and o'er the billows fly.

1018 Meantime the mother goddess, full of fears,
1019 To Neptune thus address'd, with tender tears:
1020 "The pride of Jove's imperious queen, the rage,
1021 The malice which no suff'rings can assuage,
1022 Compel me to these pray'rs; since neither fate,
1023 Nor time, nor pity, can remove her hate:
1024 Ev'n Jove is thwarted by his haughty wife;
1025 Still vanquish'd, yet she still renews the strife.
1026 As if 't were little to consume the town
1027 Which aw'd the world, and wore th' imperial crown,
1028 She prosecutes the ghost of Troy with pains,
1029 And gnaws, ev'n to the bones, the last remains.
1030 Let her the causes of her hatred tell;
1031 But you can witness its effects too well.
1032 You saw the storm she rais'd on Libyan floods,
1033 That mix'd the mounting billows with the clouds;
1034 When, bribing Aeolus, she shook the main,
1035 And mov'd rebellion in your wat'ry reign.
1036 With fury she possess'd the Dardan dames,
1037 To burn their fleet with execrable flames,
1038 And forc'd Aeneas, when his ships were lost,
1039 To leave his foll'wers on a foreign coast.

1040 For what remains, your godhead I implore,
1041 And trust my son to your protecting pow'r.
1042 If neither Jove's nor Fate's decree withstand,
1043 Secure his passage to the Latian land."

1044 Then thus the mighty Ruler of the Main:
1045 "What may not Venus hope from Neptune's reign?
1046 My kingdom claims your birth; my late defense
1047 Of your indanger'd fleet may claim your confidence.
1048 Nor less by land than sea my deeds declare
1049 How much your lov'd Aeneas is my care.
1050 Thee, Xanthus, and thee, Simois, I attest.
1051 Your Trojan troops when proud Achilles press'd,
1052 And drove before him headlong on the plain,
1053 And dash'd against the walls the trembling train;
1054 When floods were fill'd with bodies of the slain;
1055 When crimson Xanthus, doubtful of his way,
1056 Stood up on ridges to behold the sea;
1057 (New heaps came tumbling in, and chok'd his way;)
1058 When your Aeneas fought, but fought with odds
1059 Of force unequal, and unequal gods;
1060 I spread a cloud before the victor's sight,
1061 Sustain'd the vanquish'd, and secur'd his flight;
1062 Ev'n then secur'd him, when I sought with joy
1063 The vow'd destruction of ungrateful Troy.
1064 My will's the same: fair goddess, fear no more,
1065 Your fleet shall safely gain the Latian shore;
1066 Their lives are giv'n; one destin'd head alone
1067 Shall perish, and for multitudes atone."
1068 Thus having arm'd with hopes her anxious mind,
1069 His finny team Saturnian Neptune join'd,
1070 Then adds the foamy bridle to their jaws,
1071 And to the loosen'd reins permits the laws.

1072 High on the waves his azure car he guides;
1073 Its axles thunder, and the sea subsides,
1074 And the smooth ocean rolls her silent tides.
1075 The tempests fly before their father's face,
1076 Trains of inferior gods his triumph grace,
1077 And monster whales before their master play,
1078 And choirs of Tritons crowd the wat'ry way.
1079 The marshal'd pow'rs in equal troops divide
1080 To right and left; the gods his better side
1081 Inclose, and on the worse the Nymphs and Nereids ride.

1082 Now smiling hope, with sweet vicissitude,
1083 Within the hero's mind his joys renew'd.
1084 He calls to raise the masts, the sheets display;
1085 The cheerful crew with diligence obey;
1086 They scud before the wind, and sail in open sea.
1087 Ahead of all the master pilot steers;
1088 And, as he leads, the following navy veers.
1089 The steeds of Night had travel'd half the sky,
1090 The drowsy rowers on their benches lie,
1091 When the soft God of Sleep, with easy flight,
1092 Descends, and draws behind a trail of light.
1093 Thou, Palinurus, art his destin'd prey;
1094 To thee alone he takes his fatal way.
1095 Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears;
1096 And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phorbas wears.
1097 Then thus the traitor god began his tale:
1098 "The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale;
1099 The ships, without thy care, securely sail.
1100 Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I
1101 Will take the rudder and thy room supply."
1102 To whom the yawning pilot, half asleep:
1103 "Me dost thou bid to trust the treach'rous deep,
1104 The harlot smiles of her dissembling face,
1105 And to her faith commit the Trojan race?
1106 Shall I believe the Siren South again,
1107 And, oft betray'd, not know the monster main?"
1108 He said: his fasten'd hands the rudder keep,
1109 And, fix'd on heav'n, his eyes repel invading sleep.
1110 The god was wroth, and at his temples threw
1111 A branch in Lethe dipp'd, and drunk with Stygian dew:
1112 The pilot, vanquish'd by the pow'r divine,
1113 Soon clos'd his swimming eyes, and lay supine.
1114 Scarce were his limbs extended at their length,
1115 The god, insulting with superior strength,
1116 Fell heavy on him, plung'd him in the sea,
1117 And, with the stern, the rudder tore away.
1118 Headlong he fell, and, struggling in the main,
1119 Cried out for helping hands, but cried in vain.
1120 The victor daemon mounts obscure in air,
1121 While the ship sails without the pilot's care.
1122 On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relies;
1123 But what the man forsook, the god supplies,
1124 And o'er the dang'rous deep secure the navy flies;
1125 Glides by the Sirens' cliffs, a shelfy coast,
1126 Long infamous for ships and sailors lost,
1127 And white with bones. Th' impetuous ocean roars,
1128 And rocks rebellow from the sounding shores.
1129 The watchful hero felt the knocks, and found
1130 The tossing vessel sail'd on shoaly ground.
1131 Sure of his pilot's loss, he takes himself
1132 The helm, and steers aloof, and shuns the shelf.
1133 Inly he griev'd, and, groaning from the breast,
1134 Deplor'd his death; and thus his pain express'd:
1135 "For faith repos'd on seas, and on the flatt'ring sky,
1136 Thy naked corpse is doom'd on shores unknown to lie."