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Aeneid

Perseus Latin · Perseus Latin · 13,336 sections

  1. 1.272.401

    be barred impregnably; and prisoned there

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    the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords,

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    and fettered by a hundred brazen chains,

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    shall belch vain curses from his lips of gore.”

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    These words he gave, and summoned Maia's son,

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    the herald Mercury, who earthward flying,

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    should bid the Tyrian realms and new-built towers

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    welcome the Trojan waifs; lest Dido, blind

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    to Fate's decree, should thrust them from the land.

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    He takes his flight, with rhythmic stroke of wing,

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    across th' abyss of air, and soon draws near

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    unto the Libyan mainland. He fulfils

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    his heavenly task; the Punic hearts of stone

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    grow soft beneath the effluence divine;

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    and, most of all, the Queen, with heart at ease

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    awaits benignantly her guests from Troy.

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    But good Aeneas, pondering all night long

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    his many cares, when first the cheerful dawn

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    upon him broke, resolved to take survey

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    of this strange country whither wind and wave

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    had driven him,—for desert land it seemed,—

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    to learn what tribes of man or beast possess

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    a place so wild, and careful tidings bring

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    back to his friends. His fleet of ships the while,

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    where dense, dark groves o'er-arch a hollowed crag,

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    he left encircled in far-branching shade.

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    Then with no followers save his trusty friend

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    Achates, he went forth upon his way,

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    two broad-tipped javelins poising in his hand.

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    Deep to the midmost wood he went, and there

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    his Mother in his path uprose; she seemed

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    in garb and countenance a maid, and bore,

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    like Spartan maids, a weapon; in such guise

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    Harpalyce the Thracian urges on

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    her panting coursers and in wild career

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    outstrips impetuous Hebrus as it flows.

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    Over her lovely shoulders was a bow,

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    slender and light, as fits a huntress fair;

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    her golden tresses without wimple moved

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    in every wind, and girded in a knot

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    her undulant vesture bared her marble knees.

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    She hailed them thus: “Ho, sirs, I pray you tell

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    if haply ye have noted, as ye came,

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    one of my sisters in this wood astray?

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    She bore a quiver, and a lynx's hide

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    her spotted mantle was; perchance she roused

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    some foaming boar, and chased with loud halloo.”

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    So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied:

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    “No voice or vision of thy sister fair

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    has crossed my path, thou maid without a name!

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    Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould,

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    nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess,

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    art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph,

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    the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art,

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    thy favor we implore, and potent aid

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    in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies,

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    or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found!

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    Strange are these lands and people where we rove,

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    compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand

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    shall many a victim on thine altar slay!”

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    Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive

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    honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft

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    bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white

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    lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies

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    the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold

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    Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell

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    the Libyans, by battles unsubdued.

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    Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there

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    from Tyre, to flee th' unnatural enmity

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    of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong;

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    too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be;

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    I trace the larger outline of her story:

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    Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad

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    no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed

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    by his ill-fated lady's fondest love,

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    whose father gave him her first virgin bloom

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    in youthful marriage. But the kingly power

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    among the Tyrians to her brother came,

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    Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime

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    in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose

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    a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch,

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    blinded by greed, and reckless utterly

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    of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul

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    upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus,

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    and at the very altar hewed him down.

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    Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully

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    deceived with false hopes, and empty words,

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    her grief and stricken love. But as she slept,

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    her husband's tombless ghost before her came,

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    with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare

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    his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so

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    the blood-stained altar and the infamy

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    that darkened now their house. His counsel was

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    to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land,

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    and for her journey's aid, he whispered where

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    his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown

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    of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged,

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    Dido, assembling her few trusted friends,

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    prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause

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    all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king,

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Perseus Latin. CTS URN phi0690.phi003.perseus-eng2. Via the Perseus Digital Library / Open Greek and Latin TEI corpora. Licence: CC BY-SA 4.0. Source.