Aeneid

“Hear, chiefs and princes, what your hopes shall be!

The Isle of Crete, abode of lofty Jove,

rests in the middle sea. Thence Ida soars;

there is the cradle of our race. It boasts

a hundred cities, seats of fruitful power.

Thence our chief sire, if duly I recall

the olden tale, King Teucer sprung, who first

touched on the Trojan shore, and chose his seat

of kingly power. There was no Ilium then

nor towered Pergama; in lowly vales

their dwelling; hence the ancient worship given

to the Protectress of Mount Cybele,

mother of Gods, what time in Ida's grove

the brazen Corybantic cymbals clang,

or sacred silence guards her mystery,

and lions yoked her royal chariot draw.

Up, then, and follow the behests divine!

Pour offering to the winds, and point your keels

unto that realm of Minos. It is near.

if Jove but bless, the third day's dawn should see

our ships at Cretan land.” So, having said,

he slew the victims for each altar's praise.

A bull to Neptune, and a bull to thee,

o beauteous Apollo! A black lamb

unto the clouds and storms; but fleece of snow

to the mild zephyrs was our offering.

The tale was told us that Idomeneus,

from his hereditary kindgom driven,

had left his Crete abandoned, that no foe

now harbored there, but all its dwellings lay

untenanted of man. So forth we sailed

out of the port of Delos, and sped far

along the main. The maenad-haunted hills

of Naxos came in view; the ridges green

of fair Donysa, with Olearos,

and Paros, gleaming white, and Cyclades

scattered among the waves, as close we ran

where thick-strewn islands vex the channelled seas

with rival shout the sailors cheerly called:

“On, comrades! On, to Crete and to our sires!”

Freely behind us blew the friendly winds,

and gave smooth passage to that fabled shore,

the land of the Curetes, friends of Jove.

There eagerly I labored at the walls

of our long-prayed-for city; and its name

was Pergamea; to my Trojan band,

pleased with such name, I gave command to build

altar and hearth, and raise the lofty tower.

But scarce the ships were beached along the strand

(While o'er the isle my busy mariners

ploughed in new fields and took them wives once more, —

I giving homes and laws) when suddenly

a pestilence from some infectious sky

seized on man's flesh, and horribly exhaled

o'er trees and crops a fatal year of plague.

Some breathed their last, while others weak and worn

lived on; the dog-star parched the barren fields;

grass withered, and the sickly, mouldering corn

refused us life. My aged father then

bade us re-cross the waves and re-implore

Apollo's mercy at his island shrine;

if haply of our weariness and woe

he might vouchsafe the end, or bid us find

help for our task, or guidance o'er the sea.

'T was night, and sleep possessed all breathing things;

when, lo! the sacred effigies divine,

the Phrygian gods which through the flames I bore

from fallen Troy, seemed in a vision clear

to stand before me where I slumbering lay,

bathed in bright beams which from the moon at full

streamed through the latticed wall: and thus they spoke

to soothe my care away. “Apollo's word,

which in far Delos the god meant for thee,

is uttered here. Behold, he sends ourselves

to this thy house, before thy prayer is made.

We from Troy's ashes have companioned thee

in every fight; and we the swollen seas,

guided by thee, in thine own ships have crossed;

our power divine shall set among the stars

thy seed to be, and to thy city give

dominion evermore. For mighty men

go build its mighty walls! Seek not to shun

the hard, long labors of an exile's way.

Change this abode! Not thine this Cretan shore,

nor here would Delian Phoebus have thee bide.

There is a land the roving Greeks have named

Hesperia. It is a storied realm

made mighty by great wars and fruitful land.

Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said,

have called it Italy, a chieftain's name

to a whole region given. That land alone

our true abode can be; for Dardanus

was cradled there, and old Iasius,

their blood the oldest of our ancient line.

Arise! go forth and cheer thy father gray

with the glad tidings! Bid him doubt no more!

Ausonia seek and Corythus; for Jove

denies this Cretan realm to thine and thee.”

I marvelled at the heavenly presences

so vocal and so bright, for 't was not sleep;