THE Trojans, after a seven years' voyage, set sail for Italy, but are overtaken by a dreadful storm, which Æolus raises at Juno's request-The tempest sinks one, and scatters the rest -Neptune drives off the winds, and calms the sea-Eneas, with his own ship and six more, arrives safe at an African port -Venus complains to Jupiter of her son's misfortunesJupiter comforts her, and sends Mercury to procure him a kind reception among the Carthaginians-Eneas, going out to discover the country, meets his mother in the shape of a huntress, who conveys him in a cloud to Carthage, where he sees his friends whom he thought lost, and receives a kind entertainment from the queen-Dido, by a device of Venus, begins to have a passion for him, and, after some discourse with him, desires the history of his adventures since the siege of Troy, which is the subject of the two following books.
ARMS and the man I sing, who, forced by Fate,
And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate,
Expell'd and exiled, left the Trojan shore.
Long labours, both by sea and land, he bore,
And in the doubtful war, before he won
The Latian realm, and built the destined town;
His banish'd gods restored to rites divine,
And settled sure succession in his line,
From whence the race of Alban fathers come,
And the long glories of majestic Rome.
O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate;
What goddess was provoked, and whence her hate;
For what offence the queen of heav'n began
To persecute so brave, so just a man;
Involved his anxious life in endless cares,
Exposed to wants, and hurried into wars!
Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show,
Or exercise their spite in human wo?
Against the Tiber's mouth, but far away,
An ancient town was seated on the sea-
A Tyrian colony-the people made
Stout for the war, and studious of their trade:
Carthage the name-beloved by Juno more
Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore.
Here stood her chariot; here, if heav'n were
The seat of awful empire she design'd.
Yet she had heard an ancient rumour fly
(Long cited by the people of the sky),
That times to come should see the Trojan race
Her Carthage ruin, and her tow'rs deface;
Nor thus confined, the yoke of sov'reign sway
Should on the necks of all the nations lay.
She ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in fate;
Nor could forget the war she waged of late,
For conqu'ring Greece, against the Trojan state. 35
Besides, long causes working in her mind,
And secret seeds of envy, lay behind :
Deep graven in her heart, the doom remain'd
Of partial Paris, and her form disdain'd;
The grace bestow'd on ravish'd Ganymed,
Electra's glories and her injured bed.
Each was a cause alone; and all combined
To kindle vengeance in her haughty mind.
For this, far distant from the Latian coast,
She drove the remnants of the Trojan host,
And sev'n long years th' unhappy wand'ring train
Were toss'd by storms, and scatter'd through the
Such time, such toil, required the Roman name,
Such length of labour for so vast a frame.
Now scarce the Trojan fleet, with sails and oars,
Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores,
Ent'ring with cheerful shouts the wat'ry reign,
And ploughing frothy furrows in the main;
When, lab'ring still with endless discontent,
The queen of heav'n did thus her fury vent:-
"Then am I vanquish'd? must I yield?" said she:
"And must the Trojans reign in Italy?
So fate will have it; and Jove adds his force;
Nor can my pow'r divert their happy course.
Could angry Pallas, with revengeful spleen,
The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men?
She, for the fault of one offending foe,
The bolts of Jove himself presumed to throw :
With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship,
And bare exposed the bosom of the deep:
Then-as an eagle gripes the trembling game-
The wretch, yet hissing with her father's flame,
She strongly seized, and, with a burning wound
Transfix'd and naked, on a rock she bound.
But I, who walk in awful state above,
The majesty of heav'n, the sister wife of Jove,
For length of years my fruitless force employ
Against the thin remains of ruin'd Troy!
What nations now to Juno's pow'r will pray,
Or off'rings on my slighted altars lay?"
Thus raged the goddess; and, with fury fraught,
The restless regions of the storms she sought,
Where, in a spacious cave of living stone,
The tyrant Æolus, from his airy throne,
With pow'r imperial curbs the struggling winds, 80
And sounding tempests in dark prisons binds.
This way, and that, th' impatient captives tend,
And, pressing for release, the mountains rend.
High in his hall th' undaunted monarch stands,
And shakes his sceptre, and their rage commands; 85
Which did he not, their unresisted sway
Would sweep the world before them in their way; Earth, air, and seas, through empty space would roll,
And heav'n would fly before the driving soul.
In fear of this, the father of the gods
Confined their fury to those dark abodes,
And lock'd them safe within, oppress'd with mountain loads;
Imposed a king with arbitrary sway,
To loose their fetters, or their force allay;
To whom the suppliant queen her pray'rs address'd,
And thus the tenor of her suit express'd:
"O Eolus!-for to thee the king of heav'n
The pow'r of tempests and of winds has given;
Thy force alone their fury can restrain,
And smooth the waves, or swell the troubled
A race of wand'ring slaves, abhorr'd by me,
With prosp'rous passage cut the Tuscan sea;
To fruitful Italy their course they steer,
And, for their vanquish'd gods, design new temples there;
Raise all thy winds; with night involve the skies; 105
Sink or disperse my fatal enemies.
Twice seven, the charming daughters of the main,
Around my person wait, and bear my train:
Succeed my wish, and second my design,
The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine,
And make thee father of a happy line."
To this, the god-""Tis yours, O queen! to will The work, which duty binds me to fulfil. These airy kingdoms, and this wide command, Are all the presents of your bounteous hand: Yours is my sov'reign's grace; and, as your guest, I sit with gods at their celestial feast: Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue; Dispose of empire, which I hold from you.'
|