The Aeneid Part 26

The wond'ring neighborhood, with glad surprise, Behold his s.h.a.gged breast, his giant size, His mouth that flames no more, and his extinguish'd eyes.

From that auspicious day, with rites divine, We wors.h.i.+p at the hero's holy shrine.

Pot.i.tius first ordain'd these annual vows: As priests, were added the Pinarian house, Who rais'd this altar in the sacred shade, Where honors, ever due, for ever shall be paid.

For these deserts, and this high virtue shown, Ye warlike youths, your heads with garlands crown: Fill high the goblets with a sparkling flood, And with deep draughts invoke our common G.o.d."

This said, a double wreath Evander twin'd, And poplars black and white his temples bind.

Then brims his ample bowl. With like design The rest invoke the G.o.ds, with sprinkled wine.

Meantime the sun descended from the skies, And the bright evening star began to rise.

And now the priests, Pot.i.tius at their head, In skins of beasts involv'd, the long procession led; Held high the flaming tapers in their hands, As custom had prescrib'd their holy bands; Then with a second course the tables load, And with full chargers offer to the G.o.d.

The Salii sing, and cense his altars round With Saban smoke, their heads with poplar bound- One choir of old, another of the young, To dance, and bear the burthen of the song.

The lay records the labors, and the praise, And all th' immortal acts of Hercules: First, how the mighty babe, when swath'd in bands, The serpents strangled with his infant hands; Then, as in years and matchless force he grew, Th' Oechalian walls, and Trojan, overthrew.

Besides, a thousand hazards they relate, Procur'd by Juno's and Eurystheus' hate: "Thy hands, unconquer'd hero, could subdue The cloud-born Centaurs, and the monster crew: Nor thy resistless arm the bull withstood, Nor he, the roaring terror of the wood.

The triple porter of the Stygian seat, With lolling tongue, lay fawning at thy feet, And, seiz'd with fear, forgot his mangled meat.

Th' infernal waters trembled at thy sight; Thee, G.o.d, no face of danger could affright; Not huge Typhoeus, nor th' unnumber'd snake, Increas'd with hissing heads, in Lerna's lake.

Hail, Jove's undoubted son! an added grace To heav'n and the great author of thy race!

Receive the grateful off'rings which we pay, And smile propitious on thy solemn day!"

In numbers thus they sung; above the rest, The den and death of Cacus crown the feast.

The woods to hollow vales convey the sound, The vales to hills, and hills the notes rebound.

The rites perform'd, the cheerful train retire.

Betwixt young Pallas and his aged sire, The Trojan pa.s.s'd, the city to survey, And pleasing talk beguil'd the tedious way.

The stranger cast around his curious eyes, New objects viewing still, with new surprise; With greedy joy enquires of various things, And acts and monuments of ancient kings.

Then thus the founder of the Roman tow'rs: "These woods were first the seat of sylvan pow'rs, Of Nymphs and Fauns, and salvage men, who took Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak.

Nor laws they knew, nor manners, nor the care Of lab'ring oxen, or the s.h.i.+ning share, Nor arts of gain, nor what they gain'd to spare.

Their exercise the chase; the running flood Supplied their thirst, the trees supplied their food.

Then Saturn came, who fled the pow'r of Jove, Robb'd of his realms, and banish'd from above.

The men, dispers'd on hills, to towns he brought, And laws ordain'd, and civil customs taught, And Latium call'd the land where safe he lay From his unduteous son, and his usurping sway.

With his mild empire, peace and plenty came; And hence the golden times deriv'd their name.

A more degenerate and discolor'd age Succeeded this, with avarice and rage.

Th' Ausonians then, and bold Sicanians came; And Saturn's empire often chang'd the name.

Then kings, gigantic Tybris, and the rest, With arbitrary sway the land oppress'd: For Tiber's flood was Albula before, Till, from the tyrant's fate, his name it bore.

I last arriv'd, driv'n from my native home By fortune's pow'r, and fate's resistless doom.

Long toss'd on seas, I sought this happy land, Warn'd by my mother nymph, and call'd by Heav'n's command."

Thus, walking on, he spoke, and shew'd the gate, Since call'd Carmental by the Roman state; Where stood an altar, sacred to the name Of old Carmenta, the prophetic dame, Who to her son foretold th' Aenean race, Sublime in fame, and Rome's imperial place: Then shews the forest, which, in after times, Fierce Romulus for perpetrated crimes A sacred refuge made; with this, the shrine Where Pan below the rock had rites divine: Then tells of Argus' death, his murder'd guest, Whose grave and tomb his innocence attest.

Thence, to the steep Tarpeian rock he leads; Now roof'd with gold, then thatch'd with homely reeds.

A reverent fear (such superst.i.tion reigns Among the rude) ev'n then possess'd the swains.

Some G.o.d, they knew- what G.o.d, they could not tell- Did there amidst the sacred horror dwell.

Th' Arcadians thought him Jove; and said they saw The mighty Thund'rer with majestic awe, Who took his s.h.i.+eld, and dealt his bolts around, And scatter'd tempests on the teeming ground.

Then saw two heaps of ruins, (once they stood Two stately towns, on either side the flood,) Saturnia's and Janicula's remains; And either place the founder's name retains.

Discoursing thus together, they resort Where poor Evander kept his country court.

They view'd the ground of Rome's litigious hall; (Once oxen low'd, where now the lawyers bawl;) Then, stooping, thro' the narrow gate they press'd, When thus the king bespoke his Trojan guest: "Mean as it is, this palace, and this door, Receiv'd Alcides, then a conqueror.

Dare to be poor; accept our homely food, Which feasted him, and emulate a G.o.d."

Then underneath a lowly roof he led The weary prince, and laid him on a bed; The stuffing leaves, with hides of bears o'erspread.

Now Night had shed her silver dews around, And with her sable wings embrac'd the ground, When love's fair G.o.ddess, anxious for her son, (New tumults rising, and new wars begun,) Couch'd with her husband in his golden bed, With these alluring words invokes his aid; And, that her pleasing speech his mind may move, Inspires each accent with the charms of love: "While cruel fate conspir'd with Grecian pow'rs, To level with the ground the Trojan tow'rs, I ask'd not aid th' unhappy to restore, Nor did the succor of thy skill implore; Nor urg'd the labors of my lord in vain, A sinking empire longer to sustain, Tho'much I ow'd to Priam's house, and more The dangers of Aeneas did deplore.

But now, by Jove's command, and fate's decree, His race is doom'd to reign in Italy: With humble suit I beg thy needful art, O still propitious pow'r, that rules my heart!

A mother kneels a suppliant for her son.

By Thetis and Aurora thou wert won To forge impenetrable s.h.i.+elds, and grace With fated arms a less ill.u.s.trious race.

Behold, what haughty nations are combin'd Against the relics of the Phrygian kind, With fire and sword my people to destroy, And conquer Venus twice, in conqu'ring Troy."

She said; and straight her arms, of snowy hue, About her unresolving husband threw.

Her soft embraces soon infuse desire; His bones and marrow sudden warmth inspire; And all the G.o.dhead feels the wonted fire.

Not half so swift the rattling thunder flies, Or forky lightnings flash along the skies.

The G.o.ddess, proud of her successful wiles, And conscious of her form, in secret smiles.

Then thus the pow'r, obnoxious to her charms, Panting, and half dissolving in her arms: "Why seek you reasons for a cause so just, Or your own beauties or my love distrust?

Long since, had you requir'd my helpful hand, Th' artificer and art you might command, To labor arms for Troy: nor Jove, nor fate, Confin'd their empire to so short a date.

And, if you now desire new wars to wage, My skill I promise, and my pains engage.

Whatever melting metals can conspire, Or breathing bellows, or the forming fire, Is freely yours: your anxious fears remove, And think no task is difficult to love."

Trembling he spoke; and, eager of her charms, He s.n.a.t.c.h'd the willing G.o.ddess to his arms; Till in her lap infus'd, he lay possess'd Of full desire, and sunk to pleasing rest.

Now when the Night her middle race had rode, And his first slumber had refresh'd the G.o.d- The time when early housewives leave the bed; When living embers on the hearth they spread, Supply the lamp, and call the maids to rise- With yawning mouths, and with half-open'd eyes, They ply the distaff by the winking light, And to their daily labor add the night: Thus frugally they earn their children's bread, And uncorrupted keep the nuptial bed- Not less concern'd, nor at a later hour, Rose from his downy couch the forging pow'r.

Sacred to Vulcan's name, an isle there lay, Betwixt Sicilia's coasts and Lipare, Rais'd high on smoking rocks; and, deep below, In hollow caves the fires of Aetna glow.

The Cyclops here their heavy hammers deal; Loud strokes, and hissings of tormented steel, Are heard around; the boiling waters roar, And smoky flames thro' fuming tunnels soar.

Hether the Father of the Fire, by night, Thro' the brown air precipitates his flight.

On their eternal anvils here he found The brethren beating, and the blows go round.

A load of pointless thunder now there lies Before their hands, to ripen for the skies: These darts, for angry Jove, they daily cast; Consum'd on mortals with prodigious waste.

Three rays of writhen rain, of fire three more, Of winged southern winds and cloudy store As many parts, the dreadful mixture frame; And fears are added, and avenging flame.

Inferior ministers, for Mars, repair His broken axletrees and blunted war, And send him forth again with furbish'd arms, To wake the lazy war with trumpets' loud alarms.

The rest refresh the scaly snakes that fold The s.h.i.+eld of Pallas, and renew their gold.

Full on the crest the Gorgon's head they place, With eyes that roll in death, and with distorted face.

"My sons," said Vulcan, "set your tasks aside; Your strength and master-skill must now be tried.

Arms for a hero forge; arms that require Your force, your speed, and all your forming fire."

He said. They set their former work aside, And their new toils with eager haste divide.

A flood of molten silver, bra.s.s, and gold, And deadly steel, in the large furnace roll'd; Of this, their artful hands a s.h.i.+eld prepare, Alone sufficient to sustain the war.

Sev'n orbs within a s.p.a.cious round they close: One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows.

The hissing steel is in the smithy drown'd; The grot with beaten anvils groans around.

By turns their arms advance, in equal time; By turns their hands descend, and hammers chime.

They turn the glowing ma.s.s with crooked tongs; The fiery work proceeds, with rustic songs.

While, at the Lemnian G.o.d's command, they urge Their labors thus, and ply th' Aeolian forge, The cheerful morn salutes Evander's eyes, And songs of chirping birds invite to rise.

He leaves his lowly bed: his buskins meet Above his ankles; sandals sheathe his feet: He sets his trusty sword upon his side, And o'er his shoulder throws a panther's hide.

Two menial dogs before their master press'd.

Thus clad, and guarded thus, he seeks his kingly guest.

Mindful of promis'd aid, he mends his pace, But meets Aeneas in the middle s.p.a.ce.

Young Pallas did his father's steps attend, And true Achates waited on his friend.

They join their hands; a secret seat they choose; Th' Arcadian first their former talk renews: "Undaunted prince, I never can believe The Trojan empire lost, while you survive.

Command th' a.s.sistance of a faithful friend; But feeble are the succors I can send.

Our narrow kingdom here the Tiber bounds; That other side the Latian state surrounds, Insults our walls, and wastes our fruitful grounds.

But mighty nations I prepare, to join Their arms with yours, and aid your just design.

You come, as by your better genius sent, And fortune seems to favor your intent.

Not far from hence there stands a hilly town, Of ancient building, and of high renown, Torn from the Tuscans by the Lydian race, Who gave the name of Caere to the place, Once Agyllina call'd. It flourish'd long, In pride of wealth and warlike people strong, Till curs'd Mezentius, in a fatal hour, a.s.sum'd the crown, with arbitrary pow'r.

What words can paint those execrable times, The subjects' suff'rings, and the tyrant's crimes!

That blood, those murthers, O ye G.o.ds, replace On his own head, and on his impious race!

The living and the dead at his command Were coupled, face to face, and hand to hand, Till, chok'd with stench, in loath'd embraces tied, The ling'ring wretches pin'd away and died.

Thus plung'd in ills, and meditating more- The people's patience, tir'd, no longer bore The raging monster; but with arms beset His house, and vengeance and destruction threat.

They fire his palace: while the flame ascends, They force his guards, and execute his friends.

He cleaves the crowd, and, favor'd by the night, To Turnus' friendly court directs his flight.

By just revenge the Tuscans set on fire, With arms, their king to punishment require: Their num'rous troops, now muster'd on the strand, My counsel shall submit to your command.

Their navy swarms upon the coasts; they cry To hoist their anchors, but the G.o.ds deny.