Volscens he seeks: on him alone he bends;
Borne back, and bor'd, by his surrounding friends,
Onward he press'd, and kept him still in sight;
Then whirl'd aloft his sword with all his might:
Th' unerring steel descended while he spoke,
Pierc'd his wide mouth, and through his weazen
broke:

Dying he flew; and, staggering on the plain,
With swimming eyes he sought his lover slain :
Then quiet on his bleeding bosom fell;
Content in death to be reveng'd so well.

O happy friends! for, if my verse can give
Immortal life, your fame shall ever live :
Fixt as the capitol's foundation lies;
And spread where'er the Roman eagle flies!
The conquering party first divide the prey,
Then their slain leader to the camp convey.
With wonder, as they went, the troops were fill'd,
To see such numbers whom so few had kill'd.
Serranus, Rhamnes, and the rest, they found:
Vast crowds the dying and the dead surround;
And the yet reeking blood o'erflows the ground.
All knew the helmet which Messapus lost;
But mourn'd a purchase that so dear had cost.
Now rose the ruddy Morn from Tithon's bed;
And, with the dawn of day, the skies o'erspread.
Nor long the Sun his daily course withheld,
But added colours to the world reveal'd.
When early Turnus, wakening with the light,
All clad in armour, calls his troops to fight.
His martial men with fierce harangues he fir'd;
And his own ardour in their souls inspir'd.
This done, to give new terrour to his foes,
The heads of Nisus and his friend he shows,
Rais'd high on pointed spears: a ghastly sight;
Loud peals of shouts ensue, and barbarous delight.
Meantime the Trojans run, where danger calls:
They line their trenches, and they man their walls :
In front extended to the left they stood:
Safe was the right, surrounded by the flood.
But casting from their towers a frightful view,
They saw the faces which too well they knew;
Tho' then disguis'd in death, and smear'd all o'er
With filth obscene, and dropping putrid gore.
Soon hasty fame through the sad city bears
The mournful message to the mother's ears:
An icy cold benumbs her limbs: she shakes:
Her cheeks the blood, her hand the web forsakes.
She runs the rampires round amidst the war,
Nor fears the flying darts: she rends her hair,
And fills with loud laments the liquid air.
"Thus, then, my lov'd Euryalus appears
Thus looks the prop of my declining years!
Was 't on this face my famish'd eyes I fed!
Ah, how unlike the living is the dead!
And could'st thou leave me, cruel, thus alone,
Not one kind kiss from a departing son!
No look, no last adieu, before he went,
In an ill-boding hour to slaughter sent!
Cold on the ground, and pressing foreign clay,
To Latian dogs and fowls he lies a prey!
Nor was I near to close his dying eyes,
To wash his wounds, to weep his obsequies:
To call about his corpse his crying friends,
Or spread the mantle (made for other ends)
On his dear body, which I wove with care,
Nor did my daily pains, or nightly labour, spare.
Where shall I find his corpse? What earth sus-
tains

His trunk dismember'd, and his cold remains ?

For this, alas! I left my needful ease, Expos'd my life to winds, and winter seas! If any pity touch Rutulian hearts,

Here empty all your quivers, all your darts:
Or if they fall, thou, Jove, conclude my woe,
And send me thunder-struck to shades below!"

Her shrieks and clamours pierce the Trojans' ears,
Unman their courage, and augment their fears:
Nor young Ascanius could the sight sustain,
Nor old Ilioneus his tears restrain:
But Actor and Idæus, jointly sent,

To bear the madding mother to her tent.
And now the trumpets, terribly from far,
With rattling clangour, rouse the sleepy war.
The soldiers' shouts succeed the brazen sounds,
And Heaven, from pole to pole, their noise re-
bounds.

The Volscians bear their shields upon their head,
And, rushing forward, form a moving shed;
These fill the ditch; those pull the bulwarks
down:

Some raise the ladders; others scale the town.
But where void spaces on the walls appear,
Or thin defence, they pour their forces there.
With poles and missive weapons, from afar,
The Trojans keep aloof the rising war.
Taught by their ten years' siege defensive fight,
They roll down ribs of rocks, and unresisted weight:
To break the penthouse with the ponderous blow;
Which yet the patient Volscians undergo.
But could not bear th' unequal combat long;
For where the Trojans find the thickest throng,
The ruin falls: their shatter'd shields give way,
And their crush'd heads became an easy prey.
They shrink for fear, abated of their rage,
Nor longer dare in a blind fight engage;
Contented now to gall them from below
With darts and slings, and with the distant bow.
Elsewhere Mezentius, terrible to view,

A blazing pine within the trenches threw.
But brave Messapus, Neptune's warlike son,
Broke down the palisades, the trenches won,
And loud for ladders calls to scale the town.

Calliope begin: ye sacred Nine,
Inspire your poet in his high design;
To sing what slaughter manly Turnus made:
What souls he sent below the Stygian shade:
What fame the soldiers with their captain share,
And the vast circuit of the fatal war.
For you in singing martial facts excel;
You best remember; and alone can tell.

There stood a tower, amazing to the sight,
Built up of beams, and of stupendous height;
Art, and the nature of the place, conspir'd
To furnish all the strength that war requir'd.
To level this, the bold Italians join!
The wary Trojans obviate their design:
With weighty stones o'erwhelm'd their troops below,
Shoot thro' the loop-holes, and sharp javelins throw.
Turnus, the chief, toss'd from his thundering hand,
Against the wooden walls, a flaming brand:
It stuck, the fiery plague: the winds were high;
The planks were season'd, and the timber dry.
Contagion caught the posts: it spread along,
Scorch'd, and to distance drove the scatter'd

throng.

The Trojans fled; the fire pursu'd amain, Still gathering fast upon the trembling train; Till, crowding to the corners of the wall, Down the defence, and the defenders, fall.

The mighty flaw makes Heaven itself resound,
The dead and dying Trojans strew the ground.
The tower that follow'd on the fallen crew,
Whelm'd o'er their heads, and bury'd whom it slew:
Some stuck upon the darts themselves had sent;
All the same equal ruin underwent.

Young Lycus and Helenor only 'scape;
Sav'd, how they know not, from the steepy leap.
Helenor, elder of the two; by birth,
On one side royal, one a son of earth,
Whom, to the Lydian king, Lycimnia bare,
And sent her boasted bastard to the war
(A privilege which none but freemen share).
Slight were his arms, a sword and silver shield,
No marks of honour charg'd its empty field.
Light as he fell, so light the youth arose,
And, rising, found himself amidst his foes.
Nor flight was left, nor hopes to force his way;
Embolden'd by despair, he stood at bay :
And like a stag, whom all the troop surrounds
Of eager huntsmen, and invading hounds,
Resolv'd on death, he dissipates his fears,
And bounds aloft against the pointed spears:
So dares the youth, secure of death, and throws
His dying body on his thickest foes.

But Lycus, swifter of his feet by far,
Runs, doubles, winds, and turns, amidst the war:
Springs to the walls, and leaves his foes behind,
And snatches at the beam he first can find.
Looks up, and leaps aloft at all the stretch,
In hopes the helping hand of some kind friend to
reach.

But Turnus follow'd hard his hunted prey,
(His spear had almost reach'd him in the way,
Short of his reins, and scarce a span behind):
"Fool," said the chief, "tho' fleeter than the wind,
Could'st thou presume to 'scape when I pursue?"
He said, and downward by the fect he drew
The trembling dastard: at the tug he falls,
Vast ruins come along, rent from the smoking walls.
Thus on some silver swan, or timorous hare,
Jove's bird comes sousing down from upper air;
Her crooked talons truss the fearful fray:
Then out of sight she soars, and wings her way.
So seizes the grim wolf the tender lamb,
In vain lamented by the bleating dam.

Then rushing onward, with a barbarous cry,
The troops of Turnus to the combat fly.
The ditch with faggots fill'd, the daring foe
Tost firebrands to the steepy turrets throw.

Hilioneus, as bold Lucetius came

To force the gate, and feed the kindling flame,
Roll'd down the fragment of a rock so right,
It crush'd him double underneath the weight.
Two more young Liger and Asylas slew;
To bend the bow young Liger better knew:
Asylas best the pointed javelin threw.
Brave Caneas laid Ortygius on the plain;
The victor Cæneas was by Turnus slain.
By the same hand, Clonius and Itys fall,
Sagar and Ida, standing on the wall.
From Capys' arms his fate Privernus found;
Hurt by Themilla first, but slight the wound;
His shield thrown by, to mitigate the smart,
He clapp'd his hand upon the wounded part:
The second shaft came swift and unespy'd,
And pierc'd his hand, and nail'd it to his side:
Transfix'd his breathing lungs, and beating heart;
The soul came issuing out, and hiss'd against the
dart.

The son of Arcens shone amid the rest, In glittering armour and a purple vest. Fair was his face, bis eyes inspiring love, Bred by his father in the Martian grove: Where the fat altars of Palicus flame, And sent in arms to purchase early fame. Him when he spy'd from far, the Thuscan king Laid by the lance, and took him to the sling: Thrice whirl'd the thong around his head, and The heated lead, half melted as it flew : {threw It pierc'd his hollow temples and his brain; The youth came tumbling down, and spurn'd the plain.

Then young Ascanius, who before this day Was wont in woods to shoot the savage prey, First bent in martial strife the twanging bow; And exercis'd against a human foe. With this bereft Numanus of his life, Who Turnus' younger sister took to wife. Proud of his realm, and of his royal bride, [stride, Vaunting before his troops, and lengthen'd with a In these insulting terms the Trojans he defy'd: Twice conquer'd cowards, now your shame shown,

Coop'd up a second time within your town!
Who dare not issue forth in open field,

But hold your walls before you for a shield.
Thus threat you war, thus our alliance force!
What gods, what madness hither steer'd your
You shall not find the sons of Atreus here, [course!
Nor need the frauds of sly Ulysses fear.
Strong from the cradle, of a sturdy brood,
We bear our new-born infants to the flood;
There, bath'd amid the stream, our boys we hold,
With winter harden'd, and inur'd to coid.
They wake before the day to range the wood,
Kill ere they eat, nor taste unconquer'd food.
No sports but what belong to war they know,
To break the stubborn colt, to bend the bow.
Our youth, of labour patient, earn their bread;
Hardly they work, with frugal diet fed.

From ploughs and barrows sent to seek renown,
They fight in fields, and storm the shaken town,
No part of life from toils of war is free;
No change in age, or difference in degree.
We plough, and till in arms; our oxen feel,
Instead of goads, the spur, and pointed steel:
Th' inverted lance makes furrows in the plain;
Ev'n time, that changes all, yet changes us in vain;
The body, not the mind: nor can control
Th' immortal vigour, or abate the soul.
Our helms defend the young, disguise the grey:
We live by plunder, and delight in prey.
Your vests embroider'd with rich purple shine;
In sloth you glory, and in dances join.
Your vests have sweeping sleeves: with female
Your turbans underneath your chins are ty'd.
Go, Phrygians, to your Dindymus agen ;
Go, less than women, in the shapes of men;
Go, mixt with eunuchs, in the mother's rites,
Where with unequal sound the flute invites.
Sing, dance, and howl, by turns, in Ida's shade;
Resign the war to men, who know the martial
trade."

[pride

This foul reproach Ascanius could not hear With patience, or a vow'd revenge forbear. At the full stretch of both his hands, he drew, And almost join'd the horns of the tongh yew, But first, before the throne of Jove he stood: And thus with lifted hands invok'd the god

"My first attempt, great Jupiter, succeed;
An annual offering in thy grove shall bleed:
A snow-white steer before thy altar led,
Who, like his mother, bears aloft his head,
But with his threatening brows, and bellowing
stands,

Apd dares the fight, and spurns the yellow sands."
Jove bow'd the Heavens, and lent a gracious ear,
And thunder'd on the left, amidst the clear.
Sounded at once the bow; and swiftly flies
The feather'd death, and hisses through the skies.
The steel through both his temples fore'd the way!
Extended on the ground Numanus lay.
"Go now, vain boaster, and true valour scorn;
The Phrygians, twice subdued, yet make this third
Ascanius said no more: the Trojans shake [return."
The Heavens with shouting, and new vigour take.
Apollo then bestrode a golden cloud,

To view the feats of arms, and fighting crowd;
And thus the beardless victor, he bespoke alond :
"Advance, illustrious youth; increase in fame,
And wide from east to west extend thy name.
Offspring of gods thyself; and Rome shall owe
To thee, a race of demigods below.

This is the way to Heaven: the powers divine,
From this beginning date the Julian line.
To thee, to them, and their victorious heirs,
The conquer'd war is due: and the vast world is
theirs.

Troy is too narrow for thy name." He said,
And, plunging downward, shot his radiant head;
Dispell'd the breathing air that broke his flight,
Shorn of his beams, a man to mortal sight.
Old Butes' form he took, Anchises' squire,
Now left to rule Ascanius, by his sire;
His wrinkled visage, and his hoary hairs,
His mien, his habit, and his arms he wears;
And thus salutes the boy, too forward for his years:
"Suffice it thee, thy father's worthy son,
The warlike prize thou hast already won:
The god of archers gives thy youth a part
Of his own praise; nor envies equal art.

Now tempt the war no more." He said, and flew
Obscure in air, and vanish'd from their view.
The Trojans, by his arms, their patron know;
And bear the twanging of his heavenly bow.
Then duteous force they use, and Phœbus' name,
To keep from fight the youth too fond of fame.
Undaunted they themselves no danger shun:
From wall to wall the shouts and clamours run:
They bend their bows; they whirl their slings
around:

Heaps of spent arrows fall, and strew the ground;
And helms, and shields, and rattling arms resound.
The combat thickens, like the storm that flies
From westward, when the showery kids arise:
Or pattering hail comes pouring on the main,
When Jupiter descends in harden'd rain:
Or bellowing clouds burst with a stormy sound,
And with an armed winter strew the ground.

Pand'rus and Bitias, thunder-bolts of war,
Whom Hiera to bold Alcanor bare

On Ida's top, two youths of height and size,
Like firs that on their mother-mountain rise;
Presuming on their force, the gates urbar,
And of their own accord invite the war.
With fates averse, against their king's command,
Arm'd on the right and on the left they stand,
And flank the passage: shining steel they wear,
And waving crests above their heads appear.

Thus two tall oaks, that Padus' banks adorn,
Lift up to Heaven their leafy heads unshorn;
And overpress'd with nature's heavy load,
Dance to the whistling winds, and at each other
In flows a tide of Latians, when they see [nod.
The gate set open, and the passage free.
Bold Quercens, with rash Tmarus rushing on,
Equicolas, who in bright armour shone,
And Hæmon first; but soon repuls'd they fly,
Or in the well-defended pass they die.
These with success are fir'd, and those with rage;
And each, on equal terms at length, engage.
Drawn from their lines, and issuing on the plain,
The Trojans hand to hand the fight maintain.
Fierce Turnus in another quarter fought,
When suddenly th' unhop'd-for news was brought;
The foes had left the fastness of their place,
Prevail'd in fight, and had his men in chase.
He quits th' attack; and, to prevent their fate,
Runs, where the giant brothers guard the gate.
The first he met, Antiphates the brave,
But base-begotten on a Theban slave;
Sarpedon's son he slew: the deadly dart [heart.
Found passage through his breast, and pierc'd his
Fix'd in the wound th' Italian cornel stood;
Warm'd in his lungs, and in his vital blood.
Aphidnus next, and Erymanthus dies,
And Meropes, and the gigantic size
Of Bitias, threatening with his ardent eyes.
Not by the feeble dart he fell opprest,
A dart were lost within that roomy breast,
But from a knotted fance, large, heavy, strong;
Which roar'd like thunder as it whirl'd along :
Not two bull-hides th' impetuous force withhold;
Nor coat of double mail, with scales of gold.
Down sunk the monster-bulk, and press'd the
[sound.
His arms and clattering shield on the vast body
Not with less ruin, than the Bajan mole,
(Rais'd on the seas the surges to control)
At once comes tumbling down the rocky wall,
Prone to the deep the stones disjointed fall
Off the vast pile; the scatter'd ocean flies; [arise.
Black sands, discolour'd froth, and mingled mud,
The frighted billows roll, and seek the shores:
Then trembles Prochyta, then Ischia roars:
Typhoeus thrown beneath, by Jove's command,
Astonish'd at the flaw that shakes the land,
Soon shifts his weary side, and, scarce awake,
With wonder feels the weight press lighter on his

ground:

back.

The warrior- god the Latian troops inspir'd; New strung their sinews, and their courage fir'd, But chills the Trojan hearts with cold affright; Then black despair precipitates their flight.

When Pandarus beheld his brother kill'd, The town with fear, and wild confusion fill'd. He turns the hinges of the heavy gate

With both his hands; and adds his shoulders to the

weight.

Some happier friends within the walls enclos'd;
The rest shut out, to certain death expos'd,
Fool as he was, and frantic in his care,
T' admit young Turnus, and include the war.
He thrust amid the crowd, securely bold;
Like a fierce tiger pent amid the fold.
Too late his blazing buckler they descry;
And sparkling fires that shot from either eye:
His mighty members, and his ample breast,
His rattling armour, and his crimson crest.

Far from that hated face the Trojans fly; All but the fool who sought his destiny. Mad Pandarus steps forth, with vengeance vow'd For Bitias' death, and threatens thus aloud:

These are not Ardea's walls, nor this the town Amata proffers with Lavinia's crown: 'Tis hostile earth you tread; of hope bereft, No means of safe return by flight are left." To whom, with count'nance calm, and soul sedate, Thus Turnus: "Then begin; and try thy fate: My message to the ghost of Priam bear, Tell him a new Achilles sent thee there."

A lance of tough ground-ash the Trojan threw,
Rough in the rind, and knotted as it grew;
With his full force he whirl'd it first around;
But the soft yielding air receiv'd the wound:
Imperial Juno turn'd the course before,
And fix'd the wandering weapon in the door.
"But hope not thou," said Turnus," when I
strike,

To shun thy fate; our force is not alike:
Nor thy steel temper'd by the Lemnian god :"
Then, rising, on his utmost stretch he stood;
And aim'd from high: the full descending blow
Cleaves the broad front, and beardless cheeks, in
two:

Down sinks the giant, with a thundering sound,
His ponderous limbs oppress the trembling ground;
Blood, brains, and foam, gush from the gaping
wound.

Scalp, face, and shoulders, the keen steel divides;
And the shar'd visage hangs on equal sides.
The Trojans fly from their approaching fate:
And had the victor then secur'd the gate,
And to his troops without unclos'd the bars,
One lucky day had ended all his wars.
But boiling youth, and blind desire of blood,
Push on his fury to pursue the crowd;
Hamstring'd behind, unhappy Gyges dy'd;
Then Phalaris is added to his side:

The pointed javelins from the dead he drew,
And their friends' arms against their fellows threw.
Strong Halys stands in vain; weak Phlegys flies;
Saturnia, still at hand, new force and fire supplies.
Then Halius, Prytanis, Alcander fall

(Engag'd against the foes, who scal'd the wall):
But whom they fear'd without, they found within:
At last, though late, by Linceus he was seen:
He calls new succours, and assaults the prince;
But weak his force, and vain is their defence.
Turn'd to the right, his sword the hero drew,
And at one blow the bold aggressor slew.
He joints the neck; and with a stroke so strong,
The helm flies off; and bears the head along.
Next him, the huntsman Amycus he kill'd,
In darts envenom'd, and in poison skill'd.
Then Clytius fell beneath his fatal spear,
And Cretus, whom the Muses held so dear:
He fought with courage, and he sung the fight:
Arms were his business, verses his delight.

The Trojan chiefs behold, with rage and grief,
Their slaughter'd friends, and hasten their relief.
Bold Mnestheus rallies first the broken train,
Whom brave Seresthus and his troop sustain.
To save the living, and revenge the dead,
Against one warrior's arm all Troy they led.
"O, void of sense and courage," Muestheus cry'd,
"Where can you hope your coward heads to hide?
Ah, where beyond these rampires can you run!
One man, and in your camp enclos'd, you shun!

Shall then a single sword such slaughter boast,'
And pass unpunish'd from a numerous host?
Forsaking honour, and renouncing fame, [shame."
Your gods, your country, and your king, you
This just reproach their virtue does excite,
They stand, they join, they thicken to the fight.
Now Turnus doubts, and yet disdains to yield;
But with slow paces measures back the field;
And inches to the walls, where Tiber's tide,
Washing the camp, defends the weaker side.
The more he loses, they advance the more;
And tread in every step he trod before:
They shout, they bear him back, and whom by
They cannot conquer, they oppress with weight.

[might

As, compass'd with a wood of spears around, The lordly lion still maintains his ground; Grins horrible, retires, and turns again, Threats his distended paws, and shakes his mane; He loses while in vain he presses on, Nor will his courage let him dare to run; So Turnus fares, and, unresolv'd of flight, Moves tardy back, and just recedes from fight. Yet twice, enrag'd, the combat he renews, Twice breaks, and twice his broken foes pursues: But now they swarm; and, with fresh troops supCome rolling on, and rush from every side. [ply'd, Nor Juno, who sustain'd his arms before, Dares with new strength suffice th' exhausted store. For Jove, with sour commands, sent Iris down, To force th' invader from th' affrighted town.

With labour spent, no longer can he wield The heavy falchion, or sustain the shield: O'erwhelm'd with darts, which from afar they fling, The weapons round his hollow temples ring: His golden helm gives way: with stony blows Batter'd, and flat, and beaten to his brows, His crest is rash'd away; his ample shield Is falsify'd, and round with javelins fill'd.

The foe now faint; the Trojans overwhelm: And Mnestheus lays hard load upon his helm. Sick sweat succeeds, he drops at every pore, With driving dust his cheeks are pasted o'er. Shorter and shorter every gasp he takes, And vain efforts, and hurtless blows he makes. Arm'd as he was, at length, he leap'd from high; Plung'd in the flood, and made the waters fly. The yellow god the welcome burden bore, And wip'd the sweat, and wash'd away the gore: Then gently wafts him to the farther coast; And sends him safe to cheer his anxious host.

THE TENTH BOOK OF THE ENEIS.

THE ARGUMENT.

JUPITER, calling a council of the gods, forbids them to engage in either party. At Encas's return, there is a bloody battle: Turnus killing Pallas; Eneas, Lausus, and Mezentius, Mezentius is described as an atheist; Lausus as a pious and virtuous youth: the different actions and death of these two are the subject of a noble episode.

THE gates of Heaven unfold; Jove summons all The gods to council in the common ball,

Sublimely seated, he surveys from far

The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war;
And all th' inferior world: from first to last
The sovereign senate in degrees are plac'd.

Then thus th' almighty sire began: "Ye gods, Natives, or denizens, of blest abodes;

From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind,

This backward fate from what was first design'd? Why this protracted war? When my commands Pronounc'd a peace, and gave the Latian lands. What fear or hopes on either part divides

Our Heavens, and arms our powers on different sides?

A lawful time of war at length will come
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom)
When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome:
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains;
And like a flood come pouring on the plains:
Then is your time for faction and debate,
For partial favour, and permitted hate.
Let now your immature dissension cease:
Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace."
Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge:
But lovely Venus thus replies at large:
"O power immense, eternal energy!
(For to what else protection can we fly?)
Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare
In fields, unpunish'd, and insult my care?
How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train,
In shining arms triumphant on the plain ?
Ev'n in their lines and trenches they contend;
And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend:
The town is fill'd with slaughter, and o'erfloats,
With a red deluge, their increasing moats.
Eneas, ignorant, and far from thence,
Has left a camp expos'd, without defence.
This endless outrage shall they still sustain ?
Shall Troy renew'd be forc'd, and fired again?
A second siege my banish'd issue fears,
And a new Diomede in arms appears.
One more audacious mortal will be found;
And I thy daughter wait another wound.
Yet if, with fates averse, without thy leave,
The Latian lands my progeny receive,
Bear they the pains of violated law,
And thy protection from their aid withdraw.
But if the gods their sure success foretel,

If those of Heaven consent with those of Hell,
To promise Italy; who dare debate
The power of Jove, or fix another fate?
What should I tell of tempests on the main,
Of Eolas usurping Neptune's reign?
Of Iris sent, with Bacchanalian heat,
T' inspire the matrons, and destroy the fleet.
Now Juno to the Stygian sky descends,
Solicits Hell for aid, and arins the fiends.
That new example wanted yet above:
An act that well became the wife of Jove.
Alecto, rais'd by her, with rage inflames
The peaceful bosoms of the Latian dames.
Imperial sway no more exalts my mind
(Such hopes I had indeed, while Heaven was kind);
Now let my happier foes possess my place,
Whom Jove prefers before the Trojan race;
And conquer they, whom you with conquest grace.
Since you can spare, from all your wide command,
No spot of earth, no hospitable land,
Which may my wandering fugitives receive
(Since haughty Juno will not give you leave);

Then, father, (if I still may use that name)
By ruin'd Troy, yet smoking from the flame,
I beg you, let Ascanius, by my care,
Be freed from danger, and dismiss'd the war:
Inglorious let him live, without a crown;
The father may be cast on coasts unknown,
Struggling with fate; but let me save the son.
Mine is Cythera, mine the Cyprian towers;
In those recesses, and those sacred bowers,
Obscurely let him rest; his right resign
To promis'd empire, and his Julian line.
Then Carthage may th' Ausonian towns destroy,
Nor fear the race of a rejected boy.
What profits it my son, t' escape the fire,
Arm'd with his gods, and loaded with his sire;
To pass the perils of the seas and wind;
Evade the Greeks, and leave the war behind;
To reach th' Italian shores: if, after all,
Our second Pergamus is doom'd to fall?
Much better had he curb'd his high desires,
And hover'd o'er his ill-extinguish'd fires.
To Simois' banks the fugitives restore, [fore."
And give them back to war, and all the woes be-
Deep indignation swell'd Saturnia's heart:
"And must I own," she said, "my secret smart?
What with more decence were in silence kept,
And but for this unjust reproach had slept.
Did god, or man, your favourite son advise,
With war unhop'd the Latians to surprise?
By fate you boast, and by the gods' decree,
He left his native land for Italy:
Confess the truth; by mad Cassandra, more
Than Heaven, inspir'd, he sought a foreign share!
Did I persuade to trust his second Troy
To the raw conduct of a beardless boy?
With walls unfinish'd, which himself forsakes,
And through the waves a wandering voyage takes?
When have I urg'd him meanly to demand
The Tuscan aid, and arm a quiet land?
Did I or Iris give this mad advice?

Or made the fool himself the fatal choice?
You think it hard the Latians should destroy
With swords your Trojans, and with fires your Troy:
Hard and unjust indeed, for men to draw
Their native air, nor take a foreign law:
That Turnus is permitted still to live,
To whom his birth a god and goddess give:
But yet 'tis just and lawful for your line,

To drive their fields, and force with fraud to join.
Realms not your own, among your clans divide,
And from the bridegroom tear the promis'd bride:
Petition, while you public arms prepare;
Pretend a peace, and yet provoke a war.
'Twas given to you, your darling son to shrowd,
To draw the dastard from the fighting crowd ;
And for a man obtend an empty cloud.
From flaming fleets you turn'd the fiery way,
And chang'd the ships to daughters of the sea.
But 'tis my crime, the queen of Heaven offends,
If she presume to save her suffering friends.
Your son, not knowing what his foes decree,
You say is absent: absent let him be.
Yours is Cythera, yours the Cyprian towers,
The soft recesses, and the sacred bowers.
Why do you then these needless arms prepare,
And thus provoke a people prone to war?
Did I with fire the Trojan town deface,
Or hinder from return your exil'd race?
Was I the cause of mischief, or the man,
Whose lawless lust the fatal war began?