| LXVIII . | Yet wildering wonder at so strange a scene Still holds them mute, while anxious thoughts divide Their doubtful minds, and in the cloud unseen, Wrapt in its hollow covering, they abide And note what fortune did their friends betide, And whence they come, and why for grace they sue, And on what shore they left the fleet to bide, For chosen captains came from every crew, | 604 | |
| And towards the sacred fane with clamorous cries they drew. | |||
| LXIX . | Then, audience granted, as the fane they filled, Thus calmly spake the eldest of the train, Ilioneus: "O queen, whom Jove hath willed To found this new-born city, here to reign, And stubborn tribes with justice to refrain, We, Troy's poor fugitives, implore thy grace, Storm-tost and wandering over every main— Forbid the flames our vessels to deface, | 613 | |
| Mark our afflicted plight, and spare a pious race. | |||
| LXX . | "We come not hither with the sword to rend Your Libyan homes, and shoreward drive the prey. Nay, no such violence our thoughts intend, Such pride suits not the vanquished. Far away There lies a place—Greeks style the land to-day Hesperia—fruitful and of ancient fame And strong in arms. OEnotrian folk, they say, First tilled the soil. Italian is the name | 622 | |
| Borne by the later race, with Italus who came. | |||
| LXXI . | "Thither we sailed, when, rising with the wave, Orion dashed us on the shoals, the prey Of wanton winds, and mastering billows drave Our vessels on the pathless rocks astray. We few have floated to your shore. O say, What manner of mankind is here? What land Is this, to treat us in this barbarous way? They grudge the very shelter of the sand, | 631 | |
| And call to arms and bar our footsteps from the strand! | |||
| LXXII . | "If human kind and mortal arms ye scorn, Think of the Gods, who judge the wrong and right. A king was ours, Æneas; ne'er was born A man more just, more valiant in the fight, More famed for piety and deeds of might. If yet he lives and looks upon the sun, Nor cruel death hath snatched him from the light, No fear have we, nor need hast thou to shun | 640 | |
| A Trojan guest, or rue kind offices begun. | |||
| LXXIII . | "Towns yet for us in Sicily remain, And arms, and, sprung from Trojan sires of yore, Our kinsman there, Acestes, holds his reign. Grant us to draw our scattered fleet ashore, And fit new planks and branches for the oar. So, if with king and comrades brought again, The Fates allow us to reach Italia's shore, Italia gladly and the Latian plain | 649 | |
| Seek we; but else, if thoughts of safety be in vain, | |||
| LXXIV . | "If thee, dear Sire, the Libyan deep doth hide, Nor hopes of young Iulus more can cheer, Back let our barks to the Sicanian tide And proffered homes and king Acestes steer." He spake; the Dardans answered with a cheer. Then Dido thus, with downcast look sedate; "Take courage, Trojans, and dismiss your fear. My kingdom's newness and the stress of Fate | 658 | |
| Force me to guard far off the frontiers of my state. | |||
| LXXV . | "Who knows not Troy, th' Æneian house of fame, The deeds and doers, and the war's renown That fired the world? Not hearts so dull and tame Have Punic folk; not so is Phoebus known To turn his back upon our Tyrian town. Whether ye sail to great Hesperia's shore And Saturn's fields, or seek the realms that own Acestes' sway, where Eryx reigned of yore, | 667 | |
| Safe will I send you hence, and speed you with my store. | |||
| LXXVI . | "Else, would ye settle in this realm, the town I build is yours; draw up your ships to land. Trojan and Tyrian will I treat as one. Would that your king Æneas here could stand, Driven by the gale that drove you to this strand! Natheless, to scour the country, will I send Some trusty messengers, with strict command To search through Libya to the furthest end, | 676 | |
| Lest, cast ashore, through town or lonely wood he wend." | |||
| LXXVII . | Roused by these words, long since the sire of Troy Yearned, like his friend, their comrades to surprise And burst the cloud. Then first with eager joy "O Goddess-born," the bold Achates cries, "How now—what purpose doth thy mind devise? Lo! all are safe—ships, comrades brought again; One only fails us, who before our eyes Sank in the midst of the engulfing main. | 685 | |
| All else confirms the tale thy mother told thee plain." | |||
| LXXVIII . | Scarce had he said, when straight the ambient cloud Broke open, melting into day's clear light, And bathed in sunshine stood the chief, endowed With shape and features most divinely bright. For graceful tresses and the purple light Of youth did Venus in her child unfold, And sprightly lustre breathed upon his sight, Beauteous as ivory, or when artists mould | 694 | |
| Silver or Parian stone, enchased in yellow gold. | |||
| LXXIX . | Then to the queen, all wondering, he exclaimed, "Behold me, Troy's Æneas; I am here, The man ye seek, from Libyan waves reclaimed. Thou, who alone Troy's sorrows deign'st to hear, And us, the gleanings of the Danaan spear, Poor world-wide wanderers and in desperate case, Hast ta'en to share thy city and thy cheer, Meet thanks nor we, nor what of Dardan race | 703 | |