Aeneid

was Atlas also, Atlas who sustains

the weight of starry skies. Thus both our tribes

are one divided stem. Secure in this,

no envoys have I sent, nor tried thy mind

with artful first approaches, but myself,

risking my person and my life, have come

a suppliant here. For both on me and thee

the house of Daunus hurls insulting war.

If us they quell, they doubt not to obtain

lordship of all Hesperia, and subdue

alike the northern and the southern sea.

Accept good faith, and give! Behold, our hearts

quail not in battle; souls of fire are we,

and warriors proved in many an action brave.”

Aeneas ceased. The other long had scanned

the hero's face, his eyes, and wondering viewed

his form and mien divine; in answer now

he briefly spoke: “With hospitable heart,

O bravest warrior of all Trojan-born,

I know and welcome thee. I well recall

thy sire Anchises, how he looked and spake.

For I remember Priam, when he came

to greet his sister, Queen Hesione,

in Salamis, and thence pursued his way

to our cool uplands of Arcadia.

The bloom of tender boyhood then was mine,

and with a wide-eyed wonder I did view

those Teucrian lords, Laomedon's great heir,

and, towering highest in their goodly throng,

Anchises, whom my warm young heart desired

to speak with and to clasp his hand in mine.

So I approached, and joyful led him home

to Pheneus' olden wall. He gave me gifts

the day he bade adieu; a quiver rare

filled with good Lycian arrows, a rich cloak

inwove with thread of gold, and bridle reins

all golden, now to youthful Pallas given.

Therefore thy plea is granted, and my hand

here clasps in loyal amity with thine.

To-morrow at the sunrise thou shalt have

my tribute for the war, and go thy way

my glad ally. But now this festival,

whose solemn rite 't were impious to delay,

I pray thee celebrate, and bring with thee

well-omened looks and words. Allies we are!

Use this our sacred feast as if your own.”

So saying, he bade his followers renew

th' abandoned feast and wine; and placed each guest

on turf-built couch of green, most honoring

Aeneas by a throne of maple fair

decked with a lion's pelt and flowing mane.

Then high-born pages, with the altar's priest,

bring on the roasted beeves and load the board

with baskets of fine bread; and wine they bring —

of Ceres and of Bacchus gift and toil.

While good Aeneas and his Trojans share

the long whole ox and meats of sacrifice.

When hunger and its eager edge were gone,

Evander spoke: “This votive holiday,

yon tables spread and altar so divine,

are not some superstition dark and vain,

that knows not the old gods, O Trojan King!

But as men saved from danger and great fear

this thankful sacrifice we pay. Behold,

yon huge rock, beetling from the mountain wall,

hung from the cliff above. How lone and bare

the hollowed mountain looks! How crag on crag

tumbled and tossed in huge confusion lie!

A cavern once it was, which ran deep down

into the darkness. There th' half-human shape

of Cacus made its hideous den, concealed

from sunlight and the day. The ground was wet

at all times with fresh gore; the portal grim

was hung about with heads of slaughtered men,

bloody and pale—a fearsome sight to see.

Vulcan begat this monster, which spewed forth

dark-fuming flames from his infernal throat,

and vast his stature seemed. But time and tide

brought to our prayers the advent of a god

to help us at our need. For Hercules,

divine avenger, came from laying low

three-bodied Geryon, whose spoils he wore

exultant, and with hands victorious drove

the herd of monster bulls, which pastured free

along our river-valley. Cacus gazed

in a brute frenzy, and left not untried

aught of bold crime or stratagem, but stole

four fine bulls as they fed, and heifers four,

all matchless; but, lest hoof-tracks point his way,

he dragged them cave-wards by the tails, confusing

the natural trail, and hid the stolen herd

in his dark den; and not a mark or sign

could guide the herdsmen to that cavern-door.

But after, when Amphitryon's famous son,

preparing to depart, would from the meads

goad forth the full-fed herd, his lingering bulls

roared loud, and by their lamentable cry

filled grove and hills with clamor of farewell:

one heifer from the mountain-cave lowed back

in answer, so from her close-guarded stall