Ah! couldst thou break through Fate's severe decree,

A new Marcellus shall arise in thee!
Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring,
Mix'd with the purple roses of the spring:
Let me with fun'ral flow'rs his body strow,
This gift, which parents to their children owe,
This unavailing gift, at least I may bestow!"
Thus having said, he led the hero round
The confines of the blest Elysian ground;
Which when Anchises to his son had shown,
And fir'd his mind to mount the promis'd throne,
He tells the future wars, ordain'd by Fate;
The strength and customs of the Latian state;
The prince, and people; and forearms his

care

With rules, to push his fortune, or to bear.

Two gates the silent house of Sleep adorn; Of polish'd iv'ry this, that of transparent horn: True visions through transparent horn arise, Through polish'd iv'ry pass deluding lies. Of various things discoursing as he pass'd, Anchises hither bends his steps at last. Then, through the gate of iv'ry he dismiss'd His valiant offspring, and divining guest. Straight to the ships Eneas took his way, Embark'd his men, and skimm'd along the sea, Still coasting, till he gain'd Caieta's bay. At length on oozy ground his galleys moor: Their heads are turn'd to sea, their sterns to shore.

BOOK VII.

ARGUMENT.

King Latinus entertains Æneas, and promises him his only daughter, Lavinia, the heiress of his crown. Turnus, being in love with her, favoured by her mother, and by Juno and Alecto, breaks the treaty which was made, and engages in his quarrel Mezentius, Camilla, Messapus, and many other of the neighbouring princes; whose forces, and the names of their commanders, are particularly related.

AND thou, O matron of immortal fame!
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name:
Caieta still the place is call'd from thee,
The nurse of great Eneas' infancy.
Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains;
Thy name ('t is all a ghost can have) remains.
Now, when the prince her fun'ral rites had
paid,

Ho plough'd the Tyrrhene seas with sails ui

play'd.

From land a gentle breeze arose by night; Serenely shone the stars; the moon was bright; And the sea tremb ed with her silver light.

Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run,
(Circe the rich, the daughter of the sun,)
A dang'rous coast!-the goddess wastes her
days

In joyous songs; the rocks resound her lays.
In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night;
And cedar brands supply her father's light.
From hence were heard, rebellowing to the
main,

The roars of lions that refuse the chain,
The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of
bears,

And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors' ears.

These from their caverns, at the close of night, Fill the sad isle with horror and affright. Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe's pow'r,

(That watch'd the moon, and planetary hour,) With words and wicked herbs, from human-kind. Had alter'd, and in brutal shapes confin'd.

Which monsters lest the Trojan's pious host Should bear, or touch upon th' enchanted coast, Propitious Neptune steer'd their course by night,

With rising gales, that sped their happy flight. Supplied with these, they skim the sounding

shore,

And hear the swelling surges vainly roar.

Now, when the rosy morn began to rise, And wav'd her saffron streamer through the skies,

When Thetis blush'd in purple, not her own, And from her face the breathing winds were blown,

A sudden silence sate upon the sea, [way. And sweeping oars, with struggling urge their The Trojan, from the main, heheld a wood, Which, thick with shades, and a brown horror stood.

Betwixt the trees, the Tyber took his course, With whirlpools dimpled ; and with downward

force

་

That drove the sand along, he took his way,
And roll'd his yellow billows to the sea.
About him, and above, and round the wood,
The birds that haunt the borders of his flood,
That bath'd within, or bask'd upon his side,
To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied.
The captive gives command: the joyful train
Glide through the gloomy shade, and leave the
main.

Now, Erato! thy poet's inind inspire,
And fill his soul with thy celestial fire.
Relate what Latium was; her ancient kings:
Declare the past and present state of things,
When first the Trojan fleet Auscnia sought,
And how the rivals lov'd, and he w they fought

These are my theme, and how the war began,
And how concluded by the godlike man :
For I shall sing of battles, blood, and rage,
Which princes and their people did engage;
And haughty souls, that, mov'd with mutual
hate,

In fighting fields pursu'd and found their fate; That rous'd the Tyrrhene realm with loud alarms,

And peaceful Italy involv'd in arms.
A larger scene of action is display'd;
And, rising hence, a greater work is weigh'd.
Latinus, old and mild, had long posses'd
The Latian sceptre, and his people bless'd;
His father Faunus: a Laurentian dame
His mother; fair Marica was her name.
But Faunus came from Picus: Picus drew
His birth from Saturn, if records be true.
Thus king Latinus, in the third degree,
Had Saturn author of his family.
But this old peaceful prince, as heav'n decreed,
Was bless'd with no male issue to succeed:
His sons in blooming youth were snatch'd by
fate:

One only daughter heir'd the royal state.
Fir'd with her love, and with ambition led,
The neighb'ring princes court her nuptial bed.
Among the crowd, but far above the rest,
Young Turnus to the beauteous maid address'd,
Turnus, for high descent and graceful mien,
Was first, and favour'd by the Latian queen:
With him she strove to join Lavinia's hand;
But dire portents the purpos'd match with-
stand.
[stood
Deep in the palace, of long growth, there
A laurel's trunk, a venerable wood;
Where rites divine were paid; whose holy hair
Was kept and cut with superstitious care.
This plant, Latinus, when his town he wall'd,
Then found, and from the tree Laurentium
call'd:

And last, in honour of his new abode,
He vow'd the laurel to the laurel's god.
It happen'd once, (a boding prodigy !)
A swarm of bees, that cut the liquid sky,
(Unknown from whence they took their airy
flight,)

Upon the topmost branch in clouds alight,
There, with their clasping feet, together clung,
And a long cluster from the laurel hung.
An ancient augur prophesied from hence :
"Behold on Latian shores a foreign prince!
From the same parts of heaven his navy stands,
To the same parts on earth: his army lands;
The town he conquers, and the tow'r com-
mands."

Yet more, when fair Lavinia fed the fire

Before the gods, and stood beside her sire,

(Strange to relate!) the flames, involv'd in

smoke

Of incense, from the sacred altar broke,
Caught her dishevell'd hair, and rich attire:
Her crown and jewels crackled in the fire:
From thence the fuming trail began to spread,
And lambent glories danc'd about her head.
This new portent the seer with wonder views,
Then pausing, thus his prophecy renews :
"The nymph,who scatters flaming fires around,
Shall shine with honour-shall herself be
crown'd;

But, caus'd by her irrevocable fate,

War shall the country waste, and change the state."

Latinus, frighted at this dire ostent,
For counsel to his father Faunus went,
And sought the shades renown'd for prophecy,
Which near Albunea's sulph'rous fountain lie.
To those the Latian and the Sabine land
Fly, when distress'd: and thence relief de-
mand.

The priest on skins of off'rings takes his ease,
And nightly visions in his slumber sees:
A swarm of thin aerial shapes appears,
And, flutt'ring round his temples, deafs his ears.
These he consults, the future fates to know,
From powers above, and from the fiends be-

low.

Here for the god's advice Latinus flies,
Off'ring a hundred sheep for sacrifice;
Their woolly fleeces, as the rites requir'd,
He laid beneath him, and to rest retir'd.
No sooner were his eyes in slumber bound,
When from above, a more than mortal sound
Invades his ears; and thus the vision spoke :
"Seek not, my seed, in Latian bands to yoke
Our fair Lavinia, nor the gods provoke.
A foreign son upon the shore descends,
Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends.
His race, in arms and arts of peace renown'd,
Not Latium shall contain, nor Europe bound:
'Tis theirs what'er the sun surveys around."
These answers, in the silent night receiv'd,
The king himself divulg'd, the land believ'd:
The fame through all the neighb'ring nations
flew,

When now the Trojan navy was in view.

Beneath a shady tree, the hero spread
His table on the turf, with cakes of bread;
And, with his chiefs, on forest fruits he fed.
They sate; and, (not without the god's com-
mand,)

Their homely fare despatch'd, the hungry band
Invade their trenchers next, and soon devour,
To mend the scanty meal, their cakes of flour,
Ascanius this observ'd, and smiling said,
'See! we devour the plates on which we fed."

The speech had omen, that the Trojan race
Should find repose, and this the time and place.
Eneas took the word, and thus replies :-
(Confessing fate, with wonder in his eyes :)
All hail, O earth! all hail, my household gods!
Behold the destin'd place of your abodes!
For thus Anchises prophesied of old,
And this our fatal place of rest foretold:
'When, on a foreign shore, instead of meat,
By famine forc'd, your treuchers you shall eat,
Then ease your weary Trojans will attend,
And the long labours of your voyage end.
Remember on that happy coast to build:
And with a trench enclose the fruitful field.'
This was that famine, this the fatal place,
Which ends the wand'ring of our exil'd race.
Then on to-morrow's dawn, your care employ,
To search the land, and where the cities lie,
And what the men; but give this day to joy.
Now pour to Jove; and, after Jove is blest,
Call great Anchises to the genial feast:
Crown high the goblets with a cheerful draught:
Enjoy the present hour; adjourn the future
thought."

Thus having said, the hero bound his brows
With leafty branches, then perform'd his vows;
Adorning first the genius of the place,
Then Earth, the mother of the heav'nly race,
The nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown,
And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable
And ancient Cybel, and Idman Jove; [throne,
And last his sire below, and mother-queen above.
Then heaven's high monarch thunder'd thrice
aloud

And thrice he shook aloft a golden cloud.
Soon through the joyful camp a rumour flew,
The time was come their city to renew.
Then ev'ry brow with cheerful green is crown'd;
The feasts are doubled,and the bowls go round.
When next the rosy morn disclos'd the day,
The scouts to sev'ral parts divide their way,
To learn the natives' names, their towns ex-
plore,

The coast, and tendings of the crooked shore:
Here Tyber flows, and here Numicus stands;
Here warlike Latians hold the happy lands.

The pious chief who sought by peaceful ways To found his empire, and his town to raise, A hundred youths from all his train selects, And to the Latian court their course directs, (The spacious palace where their prince resides,)

And all their heads with wreaths of olive hides,
To go commission'd to require a peace,
And carry presents to procure access.
Thus while they speed their pace, the prince
designs

The new-elected seat, and draws the lines.

The Trojans round the place a rampire cast, And palisades about the trenches plac'd. Meantime the train, proceeding on their

way,

From far the town and lofty tow'rs survey:
At length approach the walls. Without the
gate,

They see the boys and Latian youth debate
The martial prizes on the dusty plain:
Some drive the cars, and some the coursers
rein;

Some bend the stubborn bow for victory;
And some with darts their active sinews try.
A posting messenger, despatch'd from hence,
Of this fair troop advis'd their aged prince,
That foreign men, of mighty stature, came;
Uncouth their habit, and unknown their name.
The king ordains their entrance, and ascends
His regal seat, surrounded by his friends.
The palace built by Picus, vast and proud,
Supported by a hundred pillars stood,
And round encompass'd with a rising wood.
The pile o'erlook'd thy town, and drew the
sight,

Surpris'd at once with rev'rence and delight. There kings receiv'd the marks of sov❜reign pow'r :

In state the monarchs march'd; the lictors bore
Their awful axes and the rods before.
Here the tribunal stood, the house of pray'r;
And here the sacred senators repair;
All at large tables, in long order set,
A ram their off'ring, and a ram their meat.
Above the portal, carv'd in cedar wood,
Plac'd in their ranks, their godlike grandsire
stood-

́Old Saturn, with his crooked scythe, or high :
And Italus, that led the colony;
And ancient Janus, with his double face,
And bunch of keys, the porter of the place.
There stood Sabinus, planter of the vines:
On a short pruning-hook his head reclines,
And studiously surveys his gen'rous wines;
Then warlike kings, who for their country
fought,

And honourable wounds from battle brought.
Around the posts hung helmets, darts, and

spears,

And captive chariots, axes, shields, and bars And broken beaks of ships, the trophies of their

wars.

Above the rest, as chief of all the band,
Was Picus plac'd; a buckler in his hand;
His other way'd a long divining wand.
Girt in his Gabine gown the hero sate,
Yet could not with his art avoid his fate:
For Circe long had lov'd the youth in vain,
Till love refus'd converted to disdain:

Ther, nixing powerful herbs, with magic art She chang'd his form, who could not change his heart;

Constrain'd him in a bird, and made him fly,
With party-colour'd plumes, a chatt'ring pie.
In this high temple, on a chair of state,
The seat of audience, old Latinus sate;
Then gave admission to the Trojan train;
And thus with pleasing accents he began:

Tell me, ye Trojans-for that name you own; Nor is your course upon our coasts unknownSay what you seek, and whither were you bound?

Were you by stress of weather cast aground?
(Such dangers of the sea are often seen,
And oft befall to miserable men';)
Or come your shipping in our ports to lay,
Spent and disabled in so long a way?

Say what you want: the Latians you shall find
Not forc'd to good-ness, but by will inclin'd.
For since the time of Saturn's holy reign,
His hospitable customs we retain :

I call to mind, but time the tale has worn,)
Th' Aurunci told, that Dardanus, though born
On Latian plains, yet sought the Phrygian shore,
And Samothracia, Samos call'd before.
From Tuscan Corythum he claim'd his birth:
But after, when exempt from mortal earth,
From thence ascended to his kindred skies,
A god, and, as a god, augments their sacrifice."
He said.-Ilioneus made this reply;
O king, of Faunus' royal family!

Nor wintry winds to Latium forc'd our way,
Nor did the stars our wand'ring course betray.
Willing we sought your shores; and, hither
bound,

The port, so long desir'd, at length we found; From our sweet homes and ancient realms ex

pell'd;

Great as the greatest that the sun beheld.
The god began our line, who rules above;
And, as our race, our king descends from Jove :
And hither are we come by his command,
To crave admission in your happy land.
How dire a tempest from Mycenae pour'd,
Our plains, our temples, and our town, devour'd;
What was the waste of war, what fierce alarms
Shook Asia's crown with European arms;
E'en such have heard, if any such there be,
Whose earth is bounded by the frozen sea;
And such as, born beneath the burning sky
And sultry sun, betwixt the tropics lie.
From that dire deluge, through the wat❜ry waste,
(Such length of years, such various perils past,)
At last escap'd, to Latium we repair,

To beg what you without your want may spare--

The common water, and the common air;

Sheds which ourselves will build, aɛd mean abodes,

Fit to receive and serve our banish'd gods.
Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace,
Nor length of time our gratitude efface-
Besides what endless honour you shall gain,
To save and shelter Troy's unhappy train.
Now, by my sov'reign, and his fate, I swear-
Renown'd for faith in peace, for force in war-
Oft our alliance other lands desir'd,
And what we seek of you, of us requir'd.
Despise not then, that in our hands we bear
These holy boughs, and sue with words of
pray'r.

Fate and the gods, by their supreme command,
Have doom'd our ships to seek the Latian

land.

To these abodes, our fleet Apollo sends ;
Here Dardanus was born, and hither tends;
Where Tuscan Tyber rolls with rapid force,
And where Numicus opes his holy source.
Besides, our prince presents, with his request,
Some small remains of what his sire possess'd.
This golden charger,snatch'd from burning Troy,
Anchises did in sacrifice employ :
This royal robe and this tiara wore
Old Priam, and this golden sceptre bore,
In full assemblies, and in solemn games :
These purple vests were weav'd by Dardan
dames."

Thus while he spoke, Latinus roll'd around
His eyes, and fix'd a while upon the ground.
Intent he seem'd and anxious in his breast:
Not by the sceptre mov'd, or kingly vest,
But pond'ring future things, of wond'rous
weight-

Succession, empire, and his daughter's fate.
On these he mus'd within his thoughtful mind;
And then revolv'd what Faunus had divin'd
This was the foreign prince, by fate decreed
To share his sceptre, and Lavinia's bed:
This was the race that sure portents foreshew
To sway the world, and land and sea subdue.
At length he rais'd his cheerful head, and spoke:
"The pow'rs," said he, "the pow'rs we both
invoke,

To you, and yours, and mine, propitious be,
And firm our purpose with our augury!
Have what you ask: your presents I receive;
Land where and when you please, with ample
leave:

Partake and use my kingdom as your own:
All shall be yours while I command the crown.
And, if my wish'd alliance please your king,
Tell him he should not send the peace, but

bring:

Then let him ret, a friend's embraces fear: The peace is made when I behold him here.

Besides this answer, tell my royal guest,
I add to his commands my own request:
One only daughter heirs my crown and state,
Whom not our oracles, nor heav'n, nor fate,
Nor frequent prodigies, permit to join
With any native of th' Ausonian line.
A foreign son-in-law shall come from far,
(Such is our doom,) a chief renown'd in war,
Whose race shall bear aloft the Latian name,
And through the conquer'd world diffuse our
fame.

Himself to be the man the fates require,
I firmly judge, and, what I judge, desire."
He said, and then on each bestow'd a steed.
Three hundred horses, in high stables fed,
Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dress'd:
Of these he chose the fairest and the best,
To mount the Trojan troop. At his command,
The steeds caparison'd with purple stand,
With golden trappings, glorious to behold,
And champ betwixt their teeth the foaming
gold.

Then to his absent guest the king decreed
A pair of coursers born of heav'nly breed,
Who from their nostrils breath'd etherial fire,
Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire,
By substituting mares produc'd on earth,
Whose wombs conceiv'd a more than mortal
birth.

These draw the chariot which Latinus sends;
And the rich present to the prince commends.
Sublime on stately steeds the Trojans borne,
To their expecting lord with peace return.
But jealous Juno, from Pachynus' height,
As she from Argos took her airy flight,
Beheld, with envious eyes, this hateful sight.
She saw the Trojan and his joyful train
Descend upon the shore, desert the main,
Design a town, and, with unhop'd success,
Th' ambassadors return with promis'd peace.
Then, pierc'd with pain, she shook her haughty
head,

Sigh'd from her inward soul, and thus she said:
"O hated offspring of my Phrygian foes!
O fates of Troy, which Juno's fates oppose!
Could they not fall unpitied on the plain,
But, slain, revive, and taken, 'scape again?
When execrable Troy in ashes lay,
Through fires and swords and seas they forc'd

their way.

Then vanquish'd Juno must in vain contend,
Her rage disarm'd, her empire at an end!
Breathless and tir'd, is all my fury spent?
Or does my glutted spleen at length relent?
As if 't were little from their town to chase,
I through the seas pursu'd their exil'd race:
Engag'd the heav'ns, oppos'd the stormy main:
But billows roar'd, and tempests rag'd in vain.

What have my Scyllas and my Syrtes done, When these they overpass, and those they shun?

On Tyber's shores they land, secure of fate,
Triumphant o'er the storms of Juno's hate!
Mars could in mutual blood the Centaurs bathe;
And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath,
Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon?
(What great offence had either people done?)
But I, the consort of the Thunderer
Have wag'd a long and unsuccessful war,
With various arts and arms in vain have toil❜d,
And by a mortal man at length am foil'd!
If native pow'r prevail not, shall I doubt
To seek for needful succour from without:
If Jove and heav'n my just desires deny,
Hell shall the pow'r of heav'n and Jove supply.
Grant that the Fates have firm'd, by their de-
cree,

The Trojan race to reign in Italy:
At least I can defer the nuptial day,
And, with protracted wars, the peace delay:
With blood the dear alliance shall be bought,
And both the people near destruction brought
So shall the son-in-law and father join,
With ruin, war, and waste of either line.
O fatal maid! thy marriage is endow'd
With Phrygian, Latian, and Rutulian blood!
Bellona leads thee to thy lover's hand:
Another queen brings forth another brand,
To burn with foreign fires another land!
A second Paris, diff'ring but in name,
Shall fire his country with a second flame."
Thus having said, she sinks beneath the

To rouse Alecto from th' infernal seat
Of her dire sisters, and their dark retreat.
This Fury, fit for her intent, she chose,
One who delights in wars and human woes.
E'en Pluto hates his own misshapen race;
Her sister Furies fly her hideous face;
So frightful are the forms the monster takes,
So fierce the hissings of her speckled snakes.
Her Juno finds, and thus inflames her spite:
"O virgin daughter of eternal Night,
Give me this once thy labour, to sustain
My right, and execute my just disdain.
Let not the Trojans, with a feign'd pretence,
Of proffer'd peace, delude the Laian prince⚫
Expel from Italy that odious name,
And let not Juno suffer in her fame.
'Tis thine to ruin realms, o'erturn a state,
Betwixt the dearest friends to raise debate,
And kindle kindred blood to mutual hate.
Thy hand o'er towns the fun'ral torch displays
And forms a thousand ills ten thousand ways.