Aeneid

Virgil

Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.

These words he gave, and summoned Maia's son,
the herald Mercury, who earthward flying,
should bid the Tyrian realms and new-built towers
welcome the Trojan waifs; lest Dido, blind
to Fate's decree, should thrust them from the land.
He takes his flight, with rhythmic stroke of wing,
across th' abyss of air, and soon draws near
unto the Libyan mainland. He fulfils
his heavenly task; the Punic hearts of stone
grow soft beneath the effluence divine;
and, most of all, the Queen, with heart at ease
awaits benignantly her guests from Troy.

But good Aeneas, pondering all night long
his many cares, when first the cheerful dawn
upon him broke, resolved to take survey
of this strange country whither wind and wave
had driven him,—for desert land it seemed,—
to learn what tribes of man or beast possess
a place so wild, and careful tidings bring
back to his friends. His fleet of ships the while,
where dense, dark groves o'er-arch a hollowed crag,
he left encircled in far-branching shade.
Then with no followers save his trusty friend
Achates, he went forth upon his way,
two broad-tipped javelins poising in his hand.
Deep to the midmost wood he went, and there
his Mother in his path uprose; she seemed
in garb and countenance a maid, and bore,
like Spartan maids, a weapon; in such guise
Harpalyce the Thracian urges on
her panting coursers and in wild career
outstrips impetuous Hebrus as it flows.
Over her lovely shoulders was a bow,
slender and light, as fits a huntress fair;
her golden tresses without wimple moved
in every wind, and girded in a knot
her undulant vesture bared her marble knees.
She hailed them thus: “Ho, sirs, I pray you tell
if haply ye have noted, as ye came,
one of my sisters in this wood astray?
She bore a quiver, and a lynx's hide
her spotted mantle was; perchance she roused
some foaming boar, and chased with loud halloo.”

So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied:
“No voice or vision of thy sister fair
has crossed my path, thou maid without a name!
Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould,
nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess,
art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph,
the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art,
thy favor we implore, and potent aid
in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies,
or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found!
Strange are these lands and people where we rove,
compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand
shall many a victim on thine altar slay!”

Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive
honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft
bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white
lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies
the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold
Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell
the Libyans, by battles unsubdued.
Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there
from Tyre, to flee th' unnatural enmity
of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong;
too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be;
I trace the larger outline of her story:
Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad
no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed
by his ill-fated lady's fondest love,
whose father gave him her first virgin bloom
in youthful marriage. But the kingly power
among the Tyrians to her brother came,
Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime
in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose
a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch,
blinded by greed, and reckless utterly
of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul
upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus,
and at the very altar hewed him down.
Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully
deceived with false hopes, and empty words,
her grief and stricken love. But as she slept,
her husband's tombless ghost before her came,
with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare
his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so
the blood-stained altar and the infamy
that darkened now their house. His counsel was
to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land,
and for her journey's aid, he whispered where
his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown
of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged,
Dido, assembling her few trusted friends,
prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause
all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king,
or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships,
which haply rode at anchor in the bay,
and loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth
of vile and covetous Pygmalion
they took to sea. A woman wrought this deed.
Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes
behold yon walls and yonder citadel
of newly rising Carthage. For a price
they measured round so much of Afric soil
as one bull's hide encircles, and the spot
received its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray,
what men are ye? from what far land arrived,
and whither going?” When she questioned thus,
her son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths,
this answer gave:

“Divine one, if I tell
my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause
to heed the tale, first would the vesper star
th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day
in slumber lie. Of ancient Troy are we—
if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved
from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm
cast us up hither on this Libyan coast.
I am Aeneas, faithful evermore
to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear
my gods ancestral, which I snatched away
from peril of the foe. My fame is known
above the stars. I travel on in quest
of Italy, my true home-land, and I
from Jove himself may trace my birth divine.
With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main
I launched away. My mother from the skies
gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained.
Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive
the shock of wind and wave; and I myself
friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down
this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here,
from Europe and from Asia exiled still!”
But Venus could not let him longer plain,
and stopped his grief midway:

“Whoe'er thou art,
I deem that not unblest of heavenly powers,
with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither
unto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on,
and to the royal threshold make thy way!
I bring thee tidings that thy comrades all
are safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed
by favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie;
or else in vain my parents gave me skill
to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans!
A flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file,
erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down
from his ethereal haunt, now form anew
their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place,
or, hovering over, scan some chosen ground,
or soaring high, with whir of happy wings,
re-circle heaven in triumphant song:
likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners
are landed, or fly landward at full sail.
Up, then! let yon plain path thy guidance be,”

She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam
from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair
breathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes
fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed
the veritable goddess. Now he knew
that vision was his mother, and his words
pursued the fading phantom as it fled:
“Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er
with mocking dreams,—another cruel god?
Hast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange
of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?”
Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way
toward the city's rampart. Venus then
o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,—
a liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,—
that viewless they might pass, nor would any
obstruct, delay, or question why they came.
To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode,
where stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines
garlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe,
and clouds of orient sweetness waft away.

Meanwhile the wanderers swiftly journey on
along the clear-marked road, and soon they climb
the brow of a high hill, which close in view
o'er-towers the city's crown. The vast exploit,
where lately rose but Afric cabins rude,
Aeneas wondered at: the smooth, wide ways;
the bastioned gates; the uproar of the throng.
The Tyrians toil unwearied; some up-raise
a wall or citadel, from far below
lifting the ponderous stone; or with due care
choose where to build, and close the space around
with sacred furrow; in their gathering-place
the people for just governors, just laws,
and for their reverend senate shout acclaim.
Some clear the harbor mouth; some deeply lay
the base of a great theatre, and carve out
proud columns from the mountain, to adorn
their rising stage with lofty ornament.
so busy bees above a field of flowers
in early summer amid sunbeams toil,
leading abroad their nation's youthful brood;
or with the flowing honey storing close
the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er
with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm
they take their little loads; or lined for war,
rout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive;
brisk is the task, and all the honeyed air
breathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven.
These men that see their promised ramparts rise!”
Aeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved
from tower to tower; then on his way he fared,
veiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen
of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!—
he threaded the thronged streets, unmarked, unknown.