Book 8

When Turnus from Laurentum's bastion proud published the war, and roused the dreadful note of the harsh trumpet's song; when on swift steeds the lash he laid and clashed his sounding arms;

then woke each warrior soul; all Latium stirred with tumult and alarm; and martial rage enkindled youth's hot blood. The chieftains proud,

Messapus, Ufens, and that foe of Heaven,

Mezentius, compel from far and wide their loyal hosts, and strip the field and farm of husbandmen. To seek auxiliar arms they send to glorious Diomed's domain the herald Venulus, and bid him cry:

“Troy is to Latium come; Aeneas' fleet has come to land. He brings his vanquished gods, and gives himself to be our destined King.

Cities not few accept him, and his name through Latium waxes large. But what the foe by such attempt intends, what victory is his presumptuous hope, if Fortune smile,

Aetolia 's lord will not less wisely fear than royal Turnus or our Latin King.”

Thus Latium 's cause moved on. Meanwhile the heir of great Laomedon, who knew full well the whole wide land astir, was vexed and tossed in troubled seas of care. This way and that his swift thoughts flew, and scanned with like dismay each partial peril or the general storm.

Thus the vexed waters at a fountain's brim, smitten by sunshine or the silver sphere of a reflected moon, send forth a beam of flickering light that leaps from wall to wall, or, skyward lifted in ethereal flight, glances along some rich-wrought, vaulted dome.

Now night had fallen, and all weary things, all shapes of beast or bird, the wide world o'er, lay deep in slumber. So beneath the arch of a cold sky Aeneas laid him down upon the river-bank, his heart sore tried by so much war and sorrow, and gave o'er his body to its Iong-delayed repose.

There, 'twixt the poplars by the gentle stream, the River-Father, genius of that place, old Tiberinus visibly uprose;

a cloak of gray-green lawn he wore, his hair o'erhung with wreath of reeds. In soothing words thus, to console Aeneas' cares, he spoke:

“Seed of the gods! who bringest to my shore thy Trojan city wrested from her foe, a stronghold everlasting, Latium 's plain and fair Laurentum long have looked for thee.

Here truly is thy home. Turn not away.

Here the true guardians of thy hearth shall be.

Fear not the gathering war. The wrath of Heaven has stilled its swollen wave. A sign I tell:

Lest thou shouldst deem this message of thy sleep a vain, deluding dream, thou soon shalt find in the oak-copses on my margent green, a huge sow, with her newly-littered brood of thirty young; along the ground she lies, snow-white, and round her udders her white young.

There shall thy city stand, and there thy toil shall find untroubled rest. After the lapse of thrice ten rolling years, Ascanius shall found a city there of noble name,

White-City, Alba; 't is no dream I sing!

But I instruct thee now by what wise way th' impending wars may bring thee victory:

receive the counsel, though the words be few:

within this land are men of Arcady, of Pallas' line, who, following in the train of King Evander and his men-at-arms, built them a city in the hills, and chose

(honoring Pallas, their Pelasgian sire), the name of Pallanteum. They make war incessant with the Latins. Therefore call this people to thy side and bind them close in federated power. My channel fair and shaded shore shall guide thee where they dwell, and thy strong oarsmen on my waters borne shall mount my falling stream. Rise, goddess-born, and ere the starlight fade give honor due to Juno, and with supplicating vow avert her wrath and frown. But unto me make offering in thy victorious hour, in time to come. I am the copious flood which thou beholdest chafing at yon shores and parting fruitful fields: cerulean stream of Tiber, favored greatly of high Heaven.

here shall arise my house magnificent, a city of all cities chief and crown.”

So spake the river-god, and sank from view down to his deepest cave; then night and sleep together from Aeneas fled away.

He rose, and to the orient beams of morn his forehead gave; in both his hollowed palms he held the sacred waters of the stream, and called aloud: “O ye Laurentian nymphs, whence flowing rills be born, and chiefly thou,

O Father Tiber, worshipped stream divine, accept Aeneas, and from peril save!

If in some hallowed lake or haunted spring thy power, pitying my woes, abides, or wheresoe'er the blessed place be found whence first thy beauty flows, there evermore my hands shall bring thee gift and sacrifice.

O chief and sovereign of Hesperian streams,

O river-god that hold'st the plenteous horn, protect us, and confirm thy words divine!”

He spoke; then chose twin biremes from the fleet, gave them good gear and armed their loyal crews.

But, lo! a sudden wonder met his eyes:

white gleaming through the grove, with all her brood white like herself, on the green bank the Sow stretched prone. The good Aeneas slew her there,

Great Juno, for a sacrifice to thee, himself the priest, and with the sucklings all beside shine altar stood. So that whole night the god of Tiber calmed his swollen wave, ebbing or lingering in silent flow, till like some gentle lake or sleeping pool his even waters lay, and strove no more against the oarsmen's toil. Upon their way they speed with joyful sound; the well-oiled wood slips through the watery floor; the wondering waves, and all the virgin forests wondering, behold the warriors in far-shining arms their painted galleys up the current drive.

O'er the long reaches of the winding flood their sturdy oars outweary the slow course of night and day. Fair groves of changeful green arch o'er their passage, and they seem to cleave green forests in the tranquil wave below.

Now had the flaming sun attained his way to the mid-sphere of heaven, when they discerned walls and a citadel in distant view, with houses few and far between; 't was there, where sovran Rome to-day has rivalled Heaven,

Evander's realm its slender strength displayed:

swiftly they turned their prows and neared the town.

It chanced th' Arcadian King had come that day to honor Hercules, Amphitryon's son, and to the powers divine pay worship due in groves outside the wall. Beside him stood

Pallas his son, his noblest men-at-arms, and frugal senators, who at the shrines burnt incense, while warm blood of victims flowed.

But when they saw the tall ships in the shade of that dark forest plying noiseless oars, the sudden sight alarmed, and all the throng sprang to its feet and left the feast divine.

But dauntless Pallas bade them give not o'er the sacred festival, and spear in hand flew forward to a bit of rising ground, and cried from far: “Hail, warriors! what cause drives you to lands unknown, and whither bound?

Your kin, your country? Bring ye peace or war?”

Father Aeneas then held forth a bough of peaceful olive from the lofty ship, thus answering: “Men Trojan-born are we, foes of the Latins, who have driven us forth with insolent assault. We fain would see

Evander. Pray, deliver this, and say that chosen princes of Dardania sue for his help in arms.” So wonder fell on Pallas, awestruck at such mighty name.

O, come, whoe'er thou art,” he said, “and speak in presence of my father. Enter here, guest of our hearth and altar.” He put forth his right hand in true welcome, and they stood with lingering clasp; then hand in hand advanced up the steep woodland, leaving Tiber 's wave.

Aeneas to Evander speaking fair, these words essayed: “O best of Grecian-born!

whom Fortune's power now bids me seek and sue, lifting this olive-branch with fillets bound,

I have not feared thee, though I know thou art a Greek, and an Arcadian king, allied to the two sons of Atreus. For behold, my conscious worth, great oracles from Heaven, the kinship of our sires, thy own renown spread through the world—all knit my cause with thine, all make me glad my fates have so decreed.

The sire and builder of the Trojan town was Dardanus; but he, Electra's child, came over sea to Teucria; the sire of fair Electra was great Atlas, he whose shoulder carries the vast orb of heaven.

But thy progenitor was Mercury, and him conceiving, Maia, that white maid, on hoar Cyllene's frosty summit bore.

But Maia's sire, if aught of truth be told, 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 foiling the monster's will. Then hadst thou seen the wrath of Hercules in frenzy blaze from his exasperate heart. His arms he seized, his club of knotted oak, and climbed full-speed the wind-swept hill. Now first our people saw

Cacus in fear, with panic in his eyes.

Swift to the black cave like a gale he flew, his feet by terror winged. Scarce had he passed the cavern door, and broken the big chains, and dropped the huge rock which was pendent there by Vulcan's well-wrought steel; scarce blocked and barred the guarded gate: when there Tirynthius stood, with heart aflame, surveying each approach, rolling this way and that his wrathful eyes, gnashing his teeth. Three times his ire surveyed the slope of Aventine; three times he stormed the rock-built gate in vain; and thrice withdrew to rest him in the vale. But high above a pointed peak arose, sheer face of rock on every side, which towered into view from the long ridge above the vaulted cave, fit haunt for birds of evil-boding wing.

This peak, which leftward toward the river leaned, he smote upon its right—his utmost blow — breaking its bases Ioose; then suddenly thrust at it: as he thrust, the thunder-sound filled all the arching sky, the river's banks asunder leaped, and Tiber in alarm reversed his flowing wave. So Cacus' lair lay shelterless, and naked to the day the gloomy caverns of his vast abode stood open, deeply yawning, just as if the riven earth should crack, and open wide th' infernal world and fearful kingdoms pale, which gods abhor; and to the realms on high the measureless abyss should be laid bare, and pale ghosts shrink before the entering sun.

Now upon Cacus, startled by the glare, caged in the rocks and howling horribly,

Alcides hurled his weapons, raining down all sorts of deadly missiles—trunks of trees, and monstrous boulders from the mountain torn.

But when the giant from his mortal strait no refuge knew, he blew from his foul jaws a storm of smoke—incredible to tell — and with thick darkness blinding every eye, concealed his cave, uprolling from below one pitch-black night of mingled gloom and fire.

This would Alcides not endure, but leaped headlong across the flames, where densest hung the rolling smoke, and through the cavern surged a drifting and impenetrable cloud.

With Cacus, who breathed unavailing flame, he grappled in the dark, locked limb with limb, and strangled him, till o'er the bloodless throat the starting eyeballs stared. Then Hercules burst wide the doorway of the sooty den, and unto Heaven and all the people showed the stolen cattle and the robber's crimes, and dragged forth by the feet the shapeless corpse of the foul monster slain. The people gazed insatiate on the grewsome eyes, the breast of bristling shag, the face both beast and man, and that fire-blasted throat whence breathed no more the extinguished flame. 'T is since that famous day we celebrate this feast, and glad of heart each generation keeps the holy time.

Potitius began the worship due, and our Pinarian house is vowed to guard the rites of Hercules. An altar fair within this wood they raised; 't is called ‘the Great,’

and Ara Maxima its name shall be.

Come now, my warriors, and bind your brows with garlands worthy of the gift of Heaven.

Lift high the cup in every thankful hand, and praise our people's god with plenteous wine.”

He spoke; and of the poplar's changeful sheen, sacred to Hercules, wove him a wreath to shade his silvered brow. The sacred cup he raised in his right hand, while all the rest called on the gods and pure libation poured.

Soon from the travelling heavens the western star glowed nearer, and Potitius led forth the priest-procession, girt in ancient guise with skins of beasts and carrying burning brands.

new feasts are spread, and altars heaped anew with gifts and laden chargers. Then with song the Salian choir surrounds the blazing shrine, their foreheads wreathed with poplar. Here the youth, the elders yonder, in proud anthem sing the glory and the deeds of Hercules:

how first he strangled with strong infant hand two serpents, Juno's plague; what cities proud,

Troy and Oechalia, his famous war in pieces broke; what labors numberless as King Eurystheus' bondman he endured, by cruel Juno's will. “Thou, unsubdued, didst strike the twy-formed, cloud-bred centaurs down,

Pholus and tall Hylaeus. Thou hast slain the Cretan horror, and the lion huge beneath the Nemean crag. At sight of thee the Stygian region quailed, and Cerberus, crouching o'er half-picked bones in gory cave.

Nothing could bid thee fear. Typhoeus towered in his colossal Titan-panoply o'er thee in vain; nor did thy cunning fail when Lema's wonder-serpent round thee drew its multudinous head. Hail, Jove's true son!

New glory to the gods above, come down, and these thine altars and thy people bless!”

Such hymns they chanted, telling oft the tale of Cacus' cave and blasting breath of fire:

while hills and sacred grove the note prolong.

Such worship o'er, all take the homeward way back to the town. The hospitable King, though bowed with weight of years, kept at his side

Aeneas and his son, and as they fared, with various discourse beguiled the way.

Aeneas scanned with quick-admiring eyes the region wide, and lingered with delight now here, now there, inquiring eagerly of each proud monument of heroes gone.

Then King Evander, he who builded first

On Palatine, spoke thus: “These groves erewhile their native nymphs and fauns enjoyed, with men from trees engendered and stout heart of oak.

Nor laws nor arts they knew; nor how to tame burls to the yoke, nor fill great barns with store and hoard the gathered grain; but rudely fared on wild fruits and such food as hunters find.

Then Saturn from Olympian realms came down, in flight from Jove's dread arms, his sceptre lost, and he an exiled King. That savage race he gathered from the mountain slopes; and gave wise laws and statutes; so that latent land was Latium, ‘hid land’, where he hid so long.

The golden centuries by legends told were under that good King, whose equal sway untroubled peace to all his peoples gave.

But after slow decline arrived an age degenerate and of a darker hue, prone to insensate war and greed of gain.

Then came Sicanian and Ausonian tribes, and oft the land of Saturn lost its name.

New chieftains rose, and Thybris, giant King and violent, from whom th' Italians named the flooding Tiber, which was called no more the Albula, its true and ancient style.

Myself, in exile from my fatherland sailing uncharted seas, was guided here by all-disposing Chance and iron laws of Destiny. With prophecy severe

Carmentis, my nymph-mother, thrust me on, warned by Apollo's word.” He scarce had said, when near their path he showed an altar fair and the Carmental gate, where Romans see memorial of Carmentis, nymph divine, the prophetess of fate, who first foretold what honors on Aeneas' sons should fall and lordly Pallanteum, where they dwell.

Next the vast grove was seen, where Romulus ordained inviolable sanctuary;

then the Lupercal under its cold crag,

Wolf-hill, where old Arcadians revered their wolf-god, the Lycaean Pan. Here too the grove of Argiletum, sacred name, where good Evander told the crime and death of Argus, his false guest. From this they climbed the steep Tarpeian hill, the Capitol, all gold to-day, but then a tangled wild of thorny woodland. Even then the place woke in the rustics a religious awe, and bade them fear and tremble at the view of that dread rock and grove. “This leafy wood, which crowns the hill-top, is the favored seat of some great god,” said he, “but of his name we know not surely. The Arcadians say jove's dread right hand here visibly appears to shake his aegis in the darkening storm, the clouds compelling. Yonder rise in view two strongholds with dismantled walls, which now are but a memory of great heroes gone:

one father Janus built, and Saturn one;

their names, Saturnia and Janiculum.”

'Mid such good parley to the house they came of King Evander, unadorned and plain, whence herds of browsing cattle could be seen ranging the Forum, and loud-bellowing in proud Carinae. As they entered there,

“Behold,” said he, “the threshold that received

Alcides in his triumph! This abode he made his own. Dare, O illustrious guest, to scorn the pomp of power. Shape thy soul to be a god's fit follower. Enter here, and free from pride our frugal welcome share.”

So saying, 'neath his roof-tree scant and low he led the great Aeneas, offering him a couch of leaves with Libyan bear-skin spread.

Now night drew near, enfolding the wide world in shadowy wings. But Venus, sore disturbed, vexed not unwisely her maternal breast, fearing Laurentum's menace and wild stir of obstinate revolt, and made her plea to Vulcan in their nuptial bower of gold, outbreathing in the music of her words celestial love: “When warring Argive kings brought ruin on Troy 's sacred citadel and ramparts soon to sink in hostile flames,

I asked not thee to help that hopeless woe, nor craved thy craft and power. For, dearest lord,

I would not tax in vain shine arduous toil, though much to Priam's children I was bound, and oft to see Aeneas burdened sore

I could but weep. But now by will of Jove he has found foothold in Rutulian lands.

Therefore I come at last with lowly suit before a godhead I adore, and pray for gift of arms,—a mother for her son.

Thou wert not unrelenting to the tears of Nereus' daughter or Tithonus' bride.

Behold what tribes conspire, what cities strong behind barred gates now make the falchion keen to ruin and blot out both me and mine!”

So spake the goddess, as her arms of snow around her hesitating spouse she threw in tender, close embrace. He suddenly knew the familiar fire, and o'er his frame its wonted ardor unresisted ran, swift as the glittering shaft of thunder cleaves the darkened air and on from cloud to cloud the rift of lightning runs. She, joyful wife;

felt what her beauty and her guile could do;

as, thralled by love unquenchable, her spouse thus answered fair: “Why wilt thou labor so with far-fetched pleas? my goddess, hast thou lost thy faith in me? Had such a prayer been shine,

I could have armed the Teucrians. Neither Jove nor Destiny had grudged ten added years of life to Troy and Priam. If to-day thou hast a war in hand, and if thy heart determine so, I willingly engage to lend thee all my cunning; whatsoever molten alloy or welded iron can, whate'er my roaring forge and flames achieve,

I offer thee. No more in anxious prayer distrust thy beauty's power.” So saying, he gave embrace of mutual desire, and found deep, peaceful sleep, on her fond heart reclined.

Night's course half run, soon as the first repose had banished sleep,—what time some careful wife whose distaff and Minerva's humble toil must earn her bread, rekindling her warm hearth, adds a night-burden to her laboring day, and by the torch-light cheers her maidens on to their long tasks; that so her husband's bed she may in honor keep, and train to power her dear men-children—at such prime of morn, with not less eager mind the Lord of Fire fled his soft couch and to his forges tried.

An island near Aeolian Lipara not far from a Sicilian headland lies, where smoking rocks precipitously tower above a vast vault, which the Cyclops' skill outhollowed large as Aetna 's thunderous caves.

There ring the smitten anvils, and the roof re-echoes, roaring loud. Chalybian ores hiss in the gloom, and from the furnace mouths puff the hot-panting fires. 'T is Vulcan's seat, and all that island is Vulcania.

Thither descended now the god of fire from height of heaven. At their task were found the Cyclops in vast cavern forging steel, naked Pyracmon and gigantic-limbed

Brontes and Steropes; beneath their blows a lightning-shaft, half-shaped, half-burnished lay, such as the Thunderer is wont to fling in numbers from the sky, but formless still.

Three strands of whirling storm they wove with three of bursting cloud, and three did interfuse of ruddy-gleaming fires and winged winds;

then fearful lightnings on the skilful forge they welded with loud horror, and with flames that bear swift wrath from Jove. Elsewhere a crew toiled at the chariot and winged wheel wherewith the war-god wakens from repose heroes and peopled cities. Others wrought the awful Aegis, herald of dismay, by angry Pallas worn; they burnished bright the golden serpent-scales and wreathing snakes, till from the corselet of the goddess glared the Gorgon's severed head and rolling eyes.

“Cyclops of Aetna,” Vulcan cried, “have done!

Leave ev'ry task unfinished, and receive my new command! Good armor must be forged for warrior brave. For this I need to use your utmost sinew and your swiftest hand, with all your master skill. No lingering now!”

Swift the command, and swiftly they divide to each his portion, and united urge the common task. Forth fow the molten streams of brass and gold, and, melted in fierce fiame, the deeply-wounding steel like liquid flows.

A mighty shield took shape, its single orb sufficient to withstand the gathered shock of all the Latin arms; for seven times they welded ring with ring. Some deftly ply the windy bellows, which receive and give the roaring blasts; some plunge in cooling pond the hissing metal, while the smithy floor groans with the anvil's weight, as side by side they lift their giant arms in numbered blows and roll with gripe of tongs the ponderous bars.

While thus the Lemnian god his labor sped in far Aeolian isle, the cheerful morn with voice of swallows round his lowly eaves summoned Evander. From his couch arose the royal sire, and o'er his aged frame a tunic threw, tying beneath his feet the Tuscan sandals: an Arcadian sword, girt at his left, was over one shoulder slung, his cloak of panther trailing from behind.

A pair of watch-dogs from the lofty door ran close, their lord attending, as he sought his guest Aeneas; for his princely soul remembered faithfully his former word, and promised gift. Aeneas with like mind was stirring early. King Evander's son

Pallas was at his side; Achates too accompanied his friend. All these conjoin in hand-clasp and good-morrow, taking seats in midcourt of the house, and give the hour to converse unrestrained. First spoke the King:

“Great leader of the Teucrians, while thy life in safety stands, I call not Trojan power vanquished or fallen. But to help thy war my small means match not thy redoubled name.

Yon Tuscan river is my bound. That way

Rutulia thrusts us hard and chafes our wall with loud, besieging arms. But I propose to league with thee a numerous array of kings and mighty tribes, which fortune strange now brings to thy defence. Thou comest here because the Fates intend. Not far from ours a city on an ancient rock is seen,

Agylla, which a warlike Lydian clan built on the Tuscan hills. It prospered well for many a year, then under the proud yoke of King Mezentius it came and bore his cruel sway. Why tell the loathsome deeds and crimes unspeakable the despot wrought?

May Heaven requite them on his impious head and on his children! For he used to chain dead men to living, hand on hand was laid and face on face,—torment incredible!

Till, locked in blood-stained, horrible embrace, a lingering death they found. But at the last his people rose in furious despair, and while he blasphemously raged, assailed his life and throne, cut down his guards and fired his regal dwellings; he, the while, escaped immediate death and fied away to the Rutulian land, to find defence in Turnus hospitality. To-day

Etruria, to righteous anger stirred, demands with urgent arms her guilty King.

To their large host, Aeneas, I will give an added strength, thyself. For yonder shores re-echo with the tumult and the cry of ships in close array; their eager lords are clamoring for battle. But the song of the gray omen-giver thus declares their destiny: ‘O goodly princes born of old Maeonian lineage! Ye that are the bloom and glory of an ancient race, whom just occasions now and noble rage enflame against Mezentius your foe, it is decreed that yonder nation proud shall never submit to chiefs Italian-born.

Seek ye a king from far!’ So in the field inert and fearful lies Etruria's force, disarmed by oracles. Their Tarchon sent envoys who bore a sceptre and a crown even to me, and prayed I should assume the sacred emblems of Etruria's king, and lead their host to war. But unto me cold, sluggish age, now barren and outworn, denies new kingdoms, and my slow-paced powers run to brave deeds no more. Nor could I urge my son, who by his Sabine mother's line is half Italian-born. Thyself art he, whose birth illustrious and manly prime fate favors and celestial powers approve.

Therefore go forth, O bravest chief and King of Troy and Italy! To thee I give the hope and consolation of our throne, pallas, my son, and bid him find in thee a master and example, while he learns the soldier's arduous toil. With thy brave deeds let him familiar grow, and reverence thee with youthful love and honor. In his train two hundred horsemen of Arcadia, our choicest men-at-arms, shall ride; and he in his own name an equal band shall bring to follow only thee.” Such the discourse.

With meditative brows and downcast eyes

Aeneas and Achates, sad at heart, mused on unnumbered perils yet to come.

But out of cloudless sky Cythera's Queen gave sudden signal: from th' ethereal dome a thunder-peal and flash of quivering fire tumultuous broke, as if the world would fall, and bellowing Tuscan trumpets shook the air.

All eyes look up. Again and yet again crashed the terrible din, and where the sky looked clearest hung a visionary cloud, whence through the brightness blazed resounding arms.

All hearts stood still. But Troy 's heroic son knew that his mother in the skies redeemed her pledge in sound of thunder: so he cried,

“Seek not, my friend, seek not thyself to read the meaning of the omen. 'T is to me

Olympus calls. My goddess-mother gave long since her promise of a heavenly sign if war should burst; and that her power would bring a panoply from Vulcan through the air, to help us at our need. Alas, what deaths over Laurentum's ill-starred host impend!

O Turnus, what a reckoning thou shalt pay to me in arms! O Tiber, in thy wave what helms and shields and mighty soldiers slain shall in confusion roll! Yea, let them lead their lines to battle, and our league abjure!”

He said: and from the lofty throne uprose.

Straightway he roused anew the slumbering fire sacred to Hercules, and glad at heart adored, as yesterday, the household gods revered by good Evander, at whose side the Trojan company made sacrifice of chosen lambs, with fitting rites and true.

Then to his ships he tried him, and rejoined his trusty followers, of whom he took the best for valor known, to lend him aid in deeds of war. Others he bade return down stream in easy course, and tidings bear to young Ascanius of the new event, and of his father. Horses then were brought for all the Teucrians to Etruria bound;

and for Aeneas one of rarest breed, o'er whom a tawny robe descended low, of lion-skin, with claws of gleaming gold.

Noised swiftly through the little town it flies that to the precinct of the Tuscan King armed horsemen speed. Pale mothers in great fear unceasing pray; for panic closely runs in danger's steps; the war-god drawing nigh looms larger; and good sire Evander now clings to the hand of his departing son and, weeping without stay, makes sad farewell:

“O, that great Jove would give me once again my vanished years! O, if such man I were, as when beneath Praeneste's wall I slew the front ranks of her sons, and burned for spoil their gathered shields on my triumph day;

or when this right hand hurled king Erulus to shades below, though—terrible to tell —

Feronia bore him with three lives, that thrice he might arise from deadly strife o'erthrown, and thrice be slain—yet all these lives took I, and of his arms despoiled him o'er and o'er:

not now, sweet son (if such lost might were mine), should I from thy beloved embrace be torn;

nor could Mezentius with insulting sword do murder in my sight and make my land depopulate and forlorn. O gods in Heaven, and chiefly thou whom all the gods obey, have pity, Jove, upon Arcadia's King, and hear a father's prayer: if your intent be for my Pallas a defence secure, if it be writ that long as I shall live, my eyes may see him, and my arms enfold,

I pray for life, and all its ills I bear.

But if some curse, too dark to tell, impend from thee, O Fortune blind! I pray thee break my thread of miserable life to-day;

to-day, while fear still doubts and hope still smiles on the unknown to-morrow, as I hold thee to my bosom, dearest child, who art my last and only joy; to-day, before th' intolerable tidings smite my ears.”

Such grief the royal father's heart outpoured at this last parting; the strong arms of slaves lifted him, fallen in swoon, and bore him home.

Now forth beneath the wide-swung city-gates the mounted squadron poured; Aeneas rode, companioned of Achates, in the van;

then other lords of Troy. There Pallas shone conspicuous in the midmost line, with cloak and blazoned arms, as when the Morning-star

(To Venus dearest of all orbs that burn), out of his lucent bath in ocean wave lifts to the skies his countenance divine, and melts the shadows of the night away.

Upon the ramparts trembling matrons stand and follow with dimmed eyes the dusty cloud whence gleam the brazen arms. The warriors ride straight on through brake and fell, the nearest way;

loud ring the war-cries, and in martial line the pounding hoof-beats shake the crumbling ground.

By Caere's cold flood lies an ample grove revered from age to age. The hollowing hills enclasp it in wide circles of dark fir, and the Pelasgians, so the legends tell, primaeval settlers of the Latin plains, called it the haunt of Silvan, kindly god of flocks and fields, and honoring the grove gave it a festal day. Hard by this spot had Tarchon with the Tuscans fortified his bivouac, and from the heights afar his legions could be seen in wide array outstretching through the plain. To meet them there

Aeneas and his veteran chivalry made sure advance, and found repose at eve for warrior travel-worn and fainting steed.

But now athwart the darkening air of heaven came Venus gleaming bright, to bring her son the gifts divine. In deep, sequestered vale she found him by a cooling rill retired, and hailed him thus: “Behold the promised gift, by craft and power of my Olympian spouse made perfect, that my son need never fear

Laurentum's haughty host, nor to provoke fierce Turnus to the fray.” Cythera's Queen so saying, embraced her son, and hung the arms, all glittering, on an oak that stood thereby.

The hero, with exultant heart and proud, gazing unwearied at his mother's gift, surveys them close, and poises in his hands the helmet's dreadful crest and glancing flame, the sword death-dealing, and the corselet strong, impenetrable brass, blood-red and large, like some dark-lowering, purple cloud that gleams beneath the smiting sun and flashes far its answering ray; and burnished greaves were there, fine gold and amber; then the spear and shield — the shield—of which the blazonry divine exceeds all power to tell. Thereon were seen

Italia 's story and triumphant Rome, wrought by the Lord of Fire, who was not blind to lore inspired and prophesying song, fore-reading things to come. He pictured there

Iulus' destined line of glorious sons marshalled for many a war. In cavern green, haunt of the war-god, lay the mother-wolf;

the twin boy-sucklings at her udders played, nor feared such nurse; with long neck backward thrown she fondled each, and shaped with busy tongue their bodies fair. Near these were pictured well the walls of Rome and ravished Sabine wives in the thronged theatre violently seized, when the great games were done; then, sudden war of Romulus against the Cures grim and hoary Tatius; next, the end of strife between the rival kings, who stood in arms before Jove's sacred altar, cup in hand, and swore a compact o'er the slaughtered swine.

Hard by, behold, the whirling chariots tore

Mettus asunder (would thou hadst been true, false Alban, to thy vow!); and Tullus trailed the traitor's mangled corse along the hills, the wild thorn dripping gore. Porsenna, next, sent to revolted Rome his proud command to take her Tarquin back, and with strong siege assailed the city's wall; while unsubdued

Aeneas' sons took arms in freedom's name.

there too the semblance of the frustrate King, a semblance of his wrath and menace vain, when Cocles broke the bridge, and Cloelia burst her captive bonds and swam the Tiber 's wave.

Lo, on the steep Tarpeian citadel stood Manlius at the sacred doors of Jove, holding the capitol, whereon was seen the fresh-thatched house of Romulus the King.

There, too, all silver, through arcade of gold fluttered the goose, whose monitory call revealed the foeman at the gate: outside besieging Gauls the thorny pathway climbed, ambushed in shadow and the friendly dark of night without a star; their flowing hair was golden, and their every vesture gold;

their cloaks were glittering plaid; each milk-white neck bore circlet of bright gold; in each man's hand two Alpine javelins gleamed, and for defence long shields the wild northern warriors bore.

There, graven cunningly, the Salian choir went leaping, and in Lupercalian feast the naked striplings ran; while others, crowned with peaked cap, bore shields that fell from heaven;

and, bearing into Rome their emblems old, chaste priestesses on soft-strewn litters passed.

But far from these th' artificer divine had wrought a Tartarus, the dreadful doors of Pluto, and the chastisements of sin;

swung o'er a threatening precipice, was seen thy trembling form, O Catiline, in fear of fury-faces nigh: and distant far th' assemblies of the righteous, in whose midst was Cato, giving judgment and decree.

Encircled by these pictures ran the waves of vast, unrestful seas in flowing gold, where seemed along the azure crests to fly the hoary foam, and in a silver ring the tails of swift, emerging dolphins lashed the waters bright, and clove the tumbling brine.

For the shield's central glory could be seen great fleets of brazen galleys, and the fight at Actium; where, ablaze with war's array,

Leucate's peak glowed o'er the golden tide.

Caesar Augustus led Italia 's sons to battle: at his side concordant moved

Senate and Roman People, with their gods of hearth and home, and all Olympian Powers.

Uplifted on his ship he stands; his brows beneath a double glory smile, and bright over his forehead beams the Julian star.

in neighboring region great Agrippa leads, by favor of fair winds and friendly Heaven, his squadron forth: upon his brows he wears the peerless emblem of his rostral crown.

Opposing, in barbaric splendor shine the arms of Antony: in victor's garb from nations in the land of morn he rides, and from the Red Sea, bringing in his train

Egypt and Syria, utmost Bactria 's horde, and last—O shameless!—his Egyptian spouse.

All to the fight make haste; the slanted oars and triple beaks of brass uptear the waves to angry foam, as to the deep they speed like hills on hill-tops hurled, or Cyclades drifting and clashing in the sea: so vast that shock of castled ships and mighty men!

Swift, arrowy steel and balls of blazing tow rain o'er the waters, till the sea-god's world flows red with slaughter. In the midst, the Queen, sounding her native timbrel, wildly calls her minions to the fight, nor yet can see two fatal asps behind. Her monster-gods, barking Anubis, and his mongrel crew, on Neptune, Venus, and Minerva fling their impious arms; the face of angry Mars, carved out of iron, in the centre frowns, grim Furies fill the air; Discordia strides in rent robe, mad with joy; and at her side, bellona waves her sanguinary scourge.

There Actian Apollo watched the war, and o'er it stretched his bow; which when they knew,

Egyptian, Arab, and swart Indian slave, and all the sons of Saba fled away in terror of his arm. The vanquished Queen made prayer to all the winds, and more and more flung out the swelling sail: on wind-swept wave she fled through dead and dying; her white brow the Lord of Fire had cunningly portrayed blanched with approaching doom. Beyond her lay the large-limbed picture of the mournful Nile, who from his bosom spread his garments wide, and offered refuge in his sheltering streams and broad, blue breast, to all her fallen power.

But Caesar in his triple triumph passed the gates of Rome, and gave Italia 's gods, for grateful offering and immortal praise, three hundred temples; all the city streets with game and revel and applauding song rang loud; in all the temples altars burned and Roman matrons prayed; the slaughtered herds strewed well the sacred ground. The hero, throned at snow-white marble threshold of the fane to radiant Phoebus, views the gift and spoil the nations bring, and on the portals proud hangs a perpetual garland: in long file the vanquished peoples pass, of alien tongues, of arms and vesture strange. Here Vulcan showed ungirdled Afric chiefs and Nomads bold,

Gelonian bowmen, men of Caria, and Leleges. Euphrates seemed to flow with humbler wave; the world's remotest men,

Morini came, with double-horned Rhine, and Dahae, little wont to bend the knee, and swift Araxes, for a bridge too proud.

Such was the blazoned shield his mother gave from Vulcan's forge; which with astonished eyes

Aeneas viewed, and scanned with joyful mind such shadows of an unknown age to be;

then on his shoulder for a burden bore the destined mighty deeds of all his sons.