Aeneid

with rope and oar the flame-swept galleys all;

a band not large, but warriors bold and true.

Aeneas, guiding with his hand a plough,

marks out the city's ground, gives separate lands

by lot, and bids within this space appear

a second Troy. Trojan Acestes takes

the kingly power, and with benignant joy

appoints a forum, and decrees just laws

before a gathered senate. Then they raise

on that star-circled Erycinian hill,

the temple to Idalian Venus dear;

and at Anchises' sepulchre ordain

a priesthood and wide groves of hallowed shade.

Now the nine days of funeral pomp are done,

and every altar has had honors due

from all the folk. Now tranquil-breathing winds

have levelled the great deep, while brisk and free,

a favoring Auster bids them launch away.

But sound of many a wailing voice is heard

along the winding shore; for ere they go,

in fond embraces for a night and day

they linger still. The women—aye, and men! —

who hated yesterday the ocean's face

and loathed its name, now clamor to set sail

and bear all want and woe to exiles known.

But good Aeneas with benignant words

their sorrow soothes, and, not without a tear,

consigns them to Acestes' kindred care.

Then bids he sacrifice to Eryx' shade

three bulls, and to the wind-gods and the storm

a lamb, then loose the ships in order due.

He, with a garland of shorn olive, stood

holding aloft the sacrificial bowl

from his own vessel's prow, and scattered far

the sacred entrails o'er the bitter wave,

with gift of flowing wine. Swift at the stern

a fair wind rose and thrust them; while the crews

with rival strokes swept o'er the spreading sea.

Venus, the while, disturbed with grief and care,

to Neptune thus her sorrowing heart outpoured:

“Stern Juno's wrath and breast implacable

compel me, Neptune, to abase my pride

in lowly supplication. Lapse of days,

nor prayers, nor virtues her hard heart subdue,

nor Jove's command; nor will she rest or yield

at Fate's decree. Her execrable grudge

is still unfed, although she did consume

the Trojan city, Phrygia's midmost throne,

and though she has accomplished stroke on stroke

of retribution. But she now pursues

the remnant—aye! the ashes and bare bones

of perished Ilium; though the cause and spring

of wrath so great none but herself can tell.

Wert thou not witness on the Libyan wave

what storm she stirred, immingling sea and sky,

and with Aeolian whirlwinds made her war, —

in vain and insolent invasion, sire,

of thine own realm and power? Behold, but now,

goading to evil deeds the Trojan dames,

she basely burned his ships; he in strange lands

must leave the crews of his Iost fleet behind.

O, I entreat thee, let the remnant sail

in safety o'er thy sea, and end their way

in Tiber's holy stream;—if this my prayer

be lawful, and that city's rampart proud

be still what Fate intends.”Then Saturn's son,

the ruler of the seas profound, replied:

“Queen of Cythera, it is meet for thee

to trust my waves from which thyself art sprung.

Have I not proved a friend, and oft restrained

the anger and wild wrath of seas and skies?

On land, let Simois and Xanthus tell

if I have loved Aeneas! On that day

Achilles drove the shuddering hosts of Troy

in panic to the walls, and hurled to death

innumerable foes, until the streams

were choked with dead, and Xanthus scarce could find

his wonted path to sea; that self-same day,

aeneas, spent, and with no help of Heaven,

met Peleus' dreadful son:—who else but I

in cloudy mantle bore him safe afar?

Though 't was my will to cast down utterly

the walls of perjured Troy, which my own hands

had built beside the sea. And even to-day

my favor changes not. Dispel thy fear!

Safe, even as thou prayest, he shall ride

to Cumae's haven, where Avernus lies.

One only sinks beneath th' engulfing seas, —

one life in lieu of many.” Having soothed

and cheered her heart divine, the worshipped sire

flung o'er his mated steeds a yoke of gold,

bridled the wild, white mouths, and with strong hand

shook out long, Ioosened reins. His azure car

skimmed light and free along the crested waves;

before his path the rolling billows all

were calm and still, and each o'er-swollen flood

sank 'neath his sounding wheel; while from the skies

the storm-clouds fled away. Behind him trailed

a various company; vast bulk of whales,

the hoary band of Glaucus, Ino's son,