Complete Works of Virgil

by Virgil

with brooding pinions o’er the waters spread,

  east wind and south, and boisterous Afric gale

  upturn the sea; vast billows shoreward roll;

  the shout of mariners, the creak of cordage,

  follow the shock; low-hanging clouds conceal

  from Trojan eyes all sight of heaven and day;

  night o’er the ocean broods; from sky to sky

  the thunders roll, the ceaseless lightnings glare;

  and all things mean swift death for mortal man.

  Straightway Aeneas, shuddering with amaze,

  groaned loud, upraised both holy hands to Heaven,

  and thus did plead: “O thrice and four times blest,

  ye whom your sires and whom the walls of Troy

  looked on in your last hour! O bravest son

  Greece ever bore, Tydides! O that I

  had fallen on Ilian fields, and given this life

  struck down by thy strong hand! where by the spear

  of great Achilles, fiery Hector fell,

  and huge Sarpedon; where the Simois

  in furious flood engulfed and whirled away

  so many helms and shields and heroes slain!”

  While thus he cried to Heaven, a shrieking blast

  smote full upon the sail. Up surged the waves

  to strike the very stars; in fragments flew

  the shattered oars; the helpless vessel veered

  and gave her broadside to the roaring flood,

  where watery mountains rose and burst and fell.

  Now high in air she hangs, then yawning gulfs

  lay bare the shoals and sands o’er which she drives.

  Three ships a whirling south wind snatched and flung

  on hidden rocks, — altars of sacrifice

  Italians call them, which lie far from shore

  a vast ridge in the sea; three ships beside

  an east wind, blowing landward from the deep,

  drove on the shallows, — pitiable sight, —

  and girdled them in walls of drifting sand.

  That ship, which, with his friend Orontes, bore

  the Lycian mariners, a great, plunging wave

  struck straight astern, before Aeneas’ eyes.

  Forward the steersman rolled and o’er the side

  fell headlong, while three times the circling flood

  spun the light bark through swift engulfing seas.

  Look, how the lonely swimmers breast the wave!

  And on the waste of waters wide are seen

  weapons of war, spars, planks, and treasures rare,

  once Ilium’s boast, all mingled with the storm.

  Now o’er Achates and Ilioneus,

  now o’er the ship of Abas or Aletes,

  bursts the tempestuous shock; their loosened seams

  yawn wide and yield the angry wave its will.

  Meanwhile how all his smitten ocean moaned,

  and how the tempest’s turbulent assault

  had vexed the stillness of his deepest cave,

  great Neptune knew; and with indignant mien

  uplifted o’er the sea his sovereign brow.

  He saw the Teucrian navy scattered far

  along the waters; and Aeneas’ men

  o’erwhelmed in mingling shock of wave and sky.

  Saturnian Juno’s vengeful stratagem

  her brother’s royal glance failed not to see;

  and loud to eastward and to westward calling,

  he voiced this word:”What pride of birth or power

  is yours, ye winds, that, reckless of my will,

  audacious thus, ye ride through earth and heaven,

  and stir these mountain waves? Such rebels I —

  nay, first I calm this tumult! But yourselves

  by heavier chastisement shall expiate

  hereafter your bold trespass. Haste away

  and bear your king this word! Not unto him

  dominion o’er the seas and trident dread,

  but unto me, Fate gives. Let him possess

  wild mountain crags, thy favored haunt and home,

  O Eurus! In his barbarous mansion there,

  let Aeolus look proud, and play the king

  in yon close-bounded prison-house of storms!”

  He spoke, and swiftlier than his word subdued

  the swelling of the floods; dispersed afar

  th’ assembled clouds, and brought back light to heaven.

  Cymothoe then and Triton, with huge toil,

  thrust down the vessels from the sharp-edged reef;

  while, with the trident, the great god’s own hand

  assists the task; then, from the sand-strewn shore

  out-ebbing far, he calms the whole wide sea,

  and glides light-wheeled along the crested foam.

  As when, with not unwonted tumult, roars

  in some vast city a rebellious mob,

  and base-born passions in its bosom burn,

  till rocks and blazing torches fill the air

  (rage never lacks for arms) — if haply then

  some wise man comes, whose reverend looks attest

  a life to duty given, swift silence falls;

  all ears are turned attentive; and he sways

  with clear and soothing speech the people’s will.

  So ceased the sea’s uproar, when its grave Sire

  looked o’er th’ expanse, and, riding on in light,

  flung free rein to his winged obedient car.

  Aeneas’ wave-worn crew now landward made,

  and took the nearest passage, whither lay

  the coast of Libya. A haven there

  walled in by bold sides of a rocky isle,

  offers a spacious and secure retreat,

  where every billow from the distant main

  breaks, and in many a rippling curve retires.

  Huge crags and two confronted promontories

  frown heaven-high, beneath whose brows outspread

  the silent, sheltered waters; on the heights

  the bright and glimmering foliage seems to show

  a woodland amphitheatre; and yet higher

  rises a straight-stemmed grove of dense, dark shade.

  Fronting on these a grotto may be seen,

  o’erhung by steep cliffs; from its inmost wall

  clear springs gush out; and shelving seats it has

  of unhewn stone, a place the wood-nymphs love.

  In such a port, a weary ship rides free

  of weight of firm-fluked anchor or strong chain.

  Hither Aeneas of his scattered fleet

  saving but seven, into harbor sailed;

  with passionate longing for the touch of land,

  forth leap the Trojans to the welcome shore,

  and fling their dripping limbs along the ground.

  Then good Achates smote a flinty stone,

  secured a flashing spark, heaped on light leaves,

  and with dry branches nursed the mounting flame.

  Then Ceres’ gift from the corrupting sea

  they bring away; and wearied utterly

  ply Ceres’ cunning on the rescued corn,

  and parch in flames, and mill ‘twixt two smooth stones.

  Aeneas meanwhile climbed the cliffs, and searched

  the wide sea-prospect; haply Antheus there,

  storm-buffeted, might sail within his ken,

  with biremes, and his Phrygian mariners,

  or Capys or Caicus armor-clad,

  upon a towering deck. No ship is seen;

  but while he looks, three stags along the shore

  come straying by, and close behind them comes

  the whole herd, browsing through the lowland vale

  in one long line. Aeneas stopped and seized

  his bow and swift-winged arrows, which his friend,

  trusty Achates, close beside him bore.

  His first shafts brought to earth the lordly heads

 
; of the high-antlered chiefs; his next assailed

  the general herd, and drove them one and all

  in panic through the leafy wood, nor ceased

  the victory of his bow, till on the ground

  lay seven huge forms, one gift for every ship.

  Then back to shore he sped, and to his friends

  distributed the spoil, with that rare wine

  which good Acestes while in Sicily

  had stored in jars, and prince-like sent away

  with his Ioved guest; — this too Aeneas gave;

  and with these words their mournful mood consoled.

  “Companions mine, we have not failed to feel

  calamity till now. O, ye have borne

  far heavier sorrow: Jove will make an end

  also of this. Ye sailed a course hard by

  infuriate Scylla’s howling cliffs and caves.

  Ye knew the Cyclops’ crags. Lift up your hearts!

  No more complaint and fear! It well may be

  some happier hour will find this memory fair.

  Through chance and change and hazard without end,

  our goal is Latium; where our destinies

  beckon to blest abodes, and have ordained

  that Troy shall rise new-born! Have patience all!

  And bide expectantly that golden day.”

  Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care,

  feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore,

  and locked within his heart a hero’s pain.

  Now round the welcome trophies of his chase

  they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs

  and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives,

  and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale,

  place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires.

  Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green,

  they rally their lost powers, and feast them well

  on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game.

  But hunger banished and the banquet done,

  in long discourse of their lost mates they tell,

  ‘twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows

  whether the lost ones live, or strive with death,

  or heed no more whatever voice may call?

  Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends,

  Orontes brave and fallen Amycus,

  or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom

  of bold young Gyas and Cloanthus bold.

  After these things were past, exalted Jove,

  from his ethereal sky surveying clear

  the seas all winged with sails, lands widely spread,

  and nations populous from shore to shore,

  paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze

  on Libya. But while he anxious mused,

  near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears,

  nor smiling any more, Venus approached,

  and thus complained: “O thou who dost control

  things human and divine by changeless laws,

  enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong

  could my Aeneas and his Trojans few

  achieve against thy power? For they have borne

  unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy,

  the gates of all the world against them close.

  Hast thou not given us thy covenant

  that hence the Romans when the rolling years

  have come full cycle, shall arise to power

  from Troy’s regenerate seed, and rule supreme

  the unresisted lords of land and sea?

  O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I

  in Troy’s most lamentable wreck and woe

  consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft

  our destined good against our destined ill!

  But the same stormful fortune still pursues

  my band of heroes on their perilous way.

  When shall these labors cease, O glorious King?

  Antenor, though th’ Achaeans pressed him sore,

  found his way forth, and entered unassailed

  Illyria’s haven, and the guarded land

  of the Liburni. Straight up stream he sailed

  where like a swollen sea Timavus pours

  a nine-fold flood from roaring mountain gorge,

  and whelms with voiceful wave the fields below.

  He built Patavium there, and fixed abodes

  for Troy’s far-exiled sons; he gave a name

  to a new land and race; the Trojan arms

  were hung on temple walls; and, to this day,

  lying in perfect peace, the hero sleeps.

  But we of thine own seed, to whom thou dost

  a station in the arch of heaven assign,

  behold our navy vilely wrecked, because

  a single god is angry; we endure

  this treachery and violence, whereby

  wide seas divide us from th’ Hesperian shore.

  Is this what piety receives? Or thus

  doth Heaven’s decree restore our fallen thrones?”

  Smiling reply, the Sire of gods and men,

  with such a look as clears the skies of storm

  chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on:

  “Let Cytherea cast her fears away!

  Irrevocably blest the fortunes be

  of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see

  that City, and the proud predestined wall

  encompassing Lavinium. Thyself

  shall starward to the heights of heaven bear

  Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves

  my will once uttered. Since such carking cares

  consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth,

  and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold.

  Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war

  and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall

  and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond

  about his gathered people. Summers three

  shall Latium call him king; and three times pass

  the winter o’er Rutulia’s vanquished hills.

  His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called

  (Ilus it was while Ilium’s kingdom stood),

  full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne

  from the Lavinian citadel, and build

  for Alba Longa its well-bastioned wall.

  Here three full centuries shall Hector’s race

  have kingly power; till a priestess queen,

  by Mars conceiving, her twin offspring bear;

  then Romulus, wolf-nursed and proudly clad

  in tawny wolf-skin mantle, shall receive

  the sceptre of his race. He shall uprear

  and on his Romans his own name bestow.

  To these I give no bounded times or power,

  but empire without end. Yea, even my Queen,

  Juno, who now chastiseth land and sea

  with her dread frown, will find a wiser way,

  and at my sovereign side protect and bless

  the Romans, masters of the whole round world,

  who, clad in peaceful toga, judge mankind.

  Such my decree! In lapse of seasons due,

  the heirs of Ilium’s kings shall bind in chains

  Mycenae’s glory and Achilles’ towers,

  and over prostrate Argos sit supreme.

  Of Trojan stock illustriously sprung,

  lo, Caesar comes! whose power the ocean bounds,

  whose fame, the skies. He shall receive the name

  Iulus nobly bore, great Julius, he.

  Him to the skies, in Orient trophies dress,

  thou shalt with smiles receive; and he, like us,

  shall hear at his own shrines the suppliant vow.

  Then will the world grow mild; the battle-sound

  will be forgot; for olden Honor then,

  with spotless Vesta, and the brothers twain,

  Remus and Romulus, at strife
no more,

  will publish sacred laws. The dreadful gates

  whence issueth war, shall with close-jointed steel

  be barred impregnably; and prisoned there

  the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords,

  and fettered by a hundred brazen chains,

  shall belch vain curses from his lips of gore.”

  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,