The Aeneid of Virgil | Page 9

and a spotted lynx-skin gay,
Or
following on the foaming boar with cries?"
Thus Venus spake, and
thus fair Venus' son replies;
XLIV. "Nought of thy sisters have I heard or seen.
What name, O maiden, shall I give to thee,
For mortal never had thy
voice or mien?
O Goddess surely, whether Nymph I see,
Or
Phoebus' sister; whosoe'er thou be,
Be kind, for strangers and in evil
case
We roam, tost hither by the stormy sea.
Say, who the people,
what the clime and place,
And many a victim's blood thy hallowed
shrine shall grace."
XLV. "Nay, nay, to no such honour I aspire."
Said Venus, "But a simple maid am I,
And 'tis the manner of the
maids of Tyre
To wear, like me, the quiver, and to tie
The purple
buskin round the ankles high.
The realm thou see'st is Punic; Tyrians
are
The folk, the town Agenor's. Round them lie
The Libyan plains,
a people rough in war.
Queen Dido rules the land, who came from
Tyre afar,
XLVI. "Flying her brother. Dark the tale of crime,

And long, but briefly be the sum supplied.
Sychaeus was her lord, in
happier time
The richest of Phoenicians far and wide
In land, and
worshipped by his hapless bride.
Her, in the bloom of maidenhood,
her sire
Had given him, and with virgin rites allied.
But soon her
brother filled the throne of Tyre,
Pygmalion, swoln with sin; 'twixt
whom a feud took fire.
XLVII. "He, reckless of a sister's love, and blind
With lust of gold, Sychaeus unaware
Slew by the altar, and with
impious mind
Long hid the deed, and flattering hopes and fair

Devised, to cheat the lover of her care.
But, lifting features
marvellously pale,
The ghost unburied in her dreams laid bare
His
breast, and showed the altar and the bale
Wrought by the ruthless
steel, and solved the crime's dark tale.
XLVIII. "Then bade her fly the country, and revealed,
To aid her flight, an old and unknown weight
Of gold and silver, in
the ground concealed.
Thus roused, her friends she gathers. All await

Her summons, who the tyrant fear or hate.
Some ships at hand,
chance-anchored in the bay,
They seize and load them with the costly
freight,
And far off o'er the deep is borne away
Pygmalion's
hoarded pelf. A woman leads the way.
XLIX. "Hither, where now the walls and fortress high,
Of Carthage, and her rising homes are found,
They came, and there
full cheaply did they buy,
Such space--called Byrsa from the deed--of
ground
As one bull's-hide could compass and surround.
But who
are ye, pray answer? on what quest
Come ye? and whence and
whither are ye bound?"
Her then AEneas, from his inmost breast

Heaving a deep-drawn sigh, with labouring speech addressed:
L. "O Goddess, should I from the first unfold,

Or could'st thou hear, the annals of our woe,
Eve's star were shining,
ere the tale were told.
From ancient Troy--if thou the name dost
know--
A chance-met storm hath driven us to and fro,
And tost us
on the Libyan shores. My name
Is good AEneas; from the flames and
foe
I bear Troy's rescued deities. My fame
Outsoars the stars of
heaven; a Jove-born race, we claim
LI. "A home in fair Italia far away.
With twice ten ships I climbed the Phrygian main,
My
goddess-mother pointing out the way,
As Fate commanded. Now
scarce seven remain,
Wave-worn and shattered by the tempest's strain.

Myself, a stranger, friendless and unknown,
From Europe driven
and Asia, roam in vain
The wilds of Libya"--Then his plaintive tone

No more could Venus bear, but interrupts her son;
LII. "Stranger," she answered, "whosoe'er thou be;
Not unbeloved of heavenly powers, I ween,
Thou breath'st the vital
air, whom Fate's decree
Permits a Tyrian city to have seen.
But
hence, and seek the palace of the queen.
Glad news I bear thee, of thy
comrades brought,
The North-wind shifted and the skies serene;

Thy ships have gained the harbour which they sought,
Else vain my
parents' lore the augury they taught.
LIII. "See yon twelve swans, in jubilant array,
Whom late Jove's eagle scattered through the sky;
Now these alight,
now those the pitch survey.
As they, returning, sport with joyous cry,

And flap their wings and circle in the sky,
E'en so thy vessels and
each late-lost crew
Safe now and scatheless in the harbour lie,
Or,
crowding canvas, hold the port in view.
But hence, where leads the
path, thy forward steps pursue."
LIV. So saying, she turned, and all refulgent showed

Her roseate neck, and heavenly fragrance sweet
Was breathed from
her ambrosial hair. Down flowed
Her loosened raiment, streaming to
her feet,
And by her walk the Goddess shone complete.
"Ah,
mother mine!" he chides her, as she flies,
"Art thou, then, also cruel?
Wherefore cheat
Thy son so oft with images and lies?
Why may I
not clasp hands, and talk without disguise?"
LV. Thus he, reproaching. Towards the town they fare
In haste. But Venus round them on the way
Wrapt a thick mist, a
mantle of dark air,
That none should see them, none should touch nor
stay,
Nor, urging idle questions, breed delay.
Then back, rejoicing,
through the liquid air
To Paphos and her