The Fourth Book of Virgils Aeneid and the Ninth Book of Voltaires Henriad | Page 8

for ignoble ease,
Your injur'd heir--your young
Ascanius view,
Rome and th' Italian reign to him are due.»
While
thus the God convey'd what Jove resolv'd,
345 From human eyes in
air his form dissolved.
Æneas stood with sacred terror chill'd;
His hair erect, his lips with
horror seal'd;
Aw'd by the present God, the high command,
He
burns to fly, and leave the much lov'd land.
350 But how alas!--What
words, what soothing art?
How meet the Queen, the sad design impart?
Now here, now there,

his wav'ring soul inclin'd;
He bends on ev'ry side his anxious mind:

And thus at length his doubting councils end.
355 He bids Cleanthus
and the chiefs attend,
The crews assemble and the ships prepare,
In silence hid the object of
their care;
While Dido yet the faithless dream deludes,
And not one
doubt upon her bliss intrudes:
360 That he, mean while, the fittest
time would seek,
The fittest place the sad reverse to speak.
In secret they, the pleasing task pursue;
But soon--(what can escape a
lovers view)
Soon Dido saw the change, her boding mind
365
Fancied, foresaw, or felt what they desgn'd.
Trembling, alive to all she sees or hears,
Suspecting ev'ry thing, she
doubts, she fears,
While Fame that wounded feeling never spar'd,

The crews on board announced, the fleet prepar'd:
379 Till mad'ning
flames within her bosom rise;
Distracted, furious, o'er the town she flies,
Wild as the Woodnymph
when the frantic rite
And Bacchanalian shout, to rage excite

Madder and louder as the God invades,
375 She hears him bounding
thro' the midnight shades.
Dido, herself, at length, Æneas sought;
Could you, false man,
conceive the cruel thought,
To hide a crime so great--unseen to go,--

Silent, unnotic'd--Would you leave me so?
380 Has love no charm,
has plighted faith no tie?
Nor Dido doom'd a cruel death to dye.
And for
yourself--unfeeling!--when die skies
With tempest low'r--when
wintry blasts arise,
You tempt the dang'rous ocean--to explore
385
A distant, strange, unhospitable shore.
Had Troy herself existed, who would brave
For Troy herself, the

treach'rous wintry wave.
'Tis me you fly--Oh, by your sacred vow,

By these sad tears, (they're all that's left me now
390 To move your
heart); by all our solemn ties,
By what I've suffer'd, by our shortliv'd joys,
If gratitude has giv'n me
any right,
If any charm in me once gave delight,
Do not desert the
wreck yourself have made,
395 Nor from my falling state withdraw
your aid.
If yet there's any pow'r in pray'rs like mine,
Oh pity me; recal that sad
design--
See Africa pow'rs, my feeble realm pursue,
My Tyrians
hearts are gone,--'Tis all for you,
400 To you I've sacrific'd my
brightest claim,
My sacred honor--all my former fame:
Since the dear name of
husband is forgot,
Think, cruel guest, of wretched Dido's lot.
What
prospect in her ruin'd state remains?
405 Pygmalions
vengeance--proud Iarba's chains.
Of you--of all that's dear in life bereft,
Oh were some pledge of
mutual passion left:
Some young Æneas, in whose face alone
His
father's dear resemblance I might own,
410 With infant grace my
lonely court to cheer,
Not lost, not widow'd quite I should appear».
She ceas'd.--With eyes unmov'd,--o'er aw'd by Jove
He stood, and
with contending passions strove.
At length he spoke. «For ever I
confess
415 I owe you all that words could e'er express,
And in this grateful heart Eliza reigns,
While life itself, and memory
remains.
Ne'er did I hope my voyage to conceal;
Never, (my words
are few for all I feel),
420 Be not deceiv'd, no, never did I join
These nuptial ties, nor this alliance sign.
Had Fate, alas, allow'd me to

dispose,
To end these troubles in the way I chose,
The ruins of my
friends, the wreck of Troy,
425 Should all my care, and all my hope
employ.
Then, sailing back to Asia's fertile shore,
For them, should Priam's
city rise once more.
But now 'tis Italy Apollo shows,
'Tis Italy the
Lycian fates propose,
430 My country's there, there all cry vows
unite.
Far from your native soil, if you delight
In Afric's coast, these walls if
you enjoy;
Allow Ansonia to the sons of Troy.
We too, in foreign
lands a state may raise.
435 As oft as Night her humid veil displays,
Oft as the stars, in solemn glory rise,
My father's murm'ring ghost
before my eyes
Brings young Ascanius, and upbraiding stands,
And
claims th' Hesperian crown, the promised lands;
440 And even
now--(on both their heads I swear)
From Joves high throne above, thro' flitting air,
} The thund'rer's will,
the herald God declar'd;
} These eyes beheld him, and these ears have
heard;
} He past these walls, and in broad day appear'd.
445 Then
cease the wounding accent of complaint--
I follow not my will, but Heav'n's constraint».
She heard his words--but turning from his view,
Now here, now there,
her eyes indignant threw.
She fix'd him with a scornful silent cast,

450 All over view'd him--and burst forth at last.
«No, faithless monster, no! Nor race divine,
Nor Dardan sire, nor
Goddess mother thine!
Form'd in the flinty womb of rocks accurst,

455 Begot by Caucasus, by tygers nurst.
What need I more? why doubt of what is plain?
One sigh,