CHAPTER XIV.

THE SLAYING OF THE SUITORS.

Then spake he among the suitors, “This labor has been accomplished. Let

me try at yet another mark.”

And he aimed his arrow at Antinoüs. But the man was just raising a cup

to his lips, thinking not of death, for who had thought that any man,

though mightiest of mortals, would venture on such a deed, being one

among many? Right through the neck passed the arrow-head, and the blood

gushed from his nostrils, and he dropped the cup and spurned the table

from him.

And all the suitors, when they saw him fall, leapt from their seats;

but when they looked, there was neither spear nor shield upon the wall.

And they knew not whether it was by chance or of set purpose that

the stranger had smitten him. But Ulysses then declared who he was,

saying,--

“Dogs, ye thought that I should never come back. Therefore have ye

devoured my house, and made suit to my wife while I yet lived, and

feared not the gods nor regarded men. Therefore a sudden destruction is

come upon you all.”

Then, when all the others trembled for fear, Eurymachus said, “If

thou be indeed Ulysses of Ithaca, thou hast said well. Foul wrong has

been done to thee in the house and in the field. But lo! he who was

the mover of it all lies here, even Antinoüs. Nor was it so much this

marriage that he sought, as to be king of this land, having destroyed

thy house. But we will pay thee back for all that we have devoured,

even twenty times as much.”

But Ulysses said, “Speak not of paying back. My hands shall not cease

from slaying till I have taken vengeance on you all.”

Then said Eurymachus to his comrades, “This man will not stay his

hands. He will smite us all with his arrows where he stands. But let us

win the door, and raise a cry in the city; soon then will this archer

have shot his last.”

And he rushed on, with his two-edged knife in his hand. But as he

rushed, Ulysses smote him on the breast with an arrow, and he fell

forwards. And when Amphinomus came on, Telemachus slew him with his

spear, but drew not the spear from the body, lest some one should smite

him unawares.

Then he ran to his father and said, “Shall I fetch arms for us and our

helpers?”

“Yea,” said he, “and tarry not, lest my arrows be spent.”

So he fetched from the armory four shields and four helmets and

eight spears. And he and the servants, Eumæus and Philætius, armed

themselves. Also Ulysses, when his arrows were spent, donned helmet

and shield, and took a mighty spear in each hand. But Melanthius, the

goatherd, crept up to the armory and brought down therefrom twelve

helmets and shields, and spears as many. And when Ulysses saw that the

suitors were arming themselves, he feared greatly, and said to his

son,--

“There is treachery here. It is one of the women, or, it may be,

Melanthius, the goatherd.”

And Telemachus said, “This fault is mine, my father, for I left the

door of the chamber unfastened.”

And soon Eumæus spied Melanthius stealing up to the chamber again, and

followed him, and Philætius with him. There they caught him, even as

he took a helmet in one hand and a shield in the other, and bound his

feet and hands, and fastened him aloft by a rope to the beams of the

ceiling.

Then these two went back to the hall, and there also came Athené having

the shape of Mentor. Still, for she would yet further try the courage

of Ulysses and his son, she helped them not as yet, but changing her

shape, sat on the roof-beam like unto a swallow.

And then cried Agelaüs, “Friends, Mentor is gone, and helps them not.

Let us not cast our spears at random, but let six come on together, if

perchance we may prevail against them.”

Then they cast their spears, but Athené turned them aside, one to the

pillar and another to the door and another to the wall. But Ulysses and

Telemachus and the two herdsmen slew each his man; and yet again they

did so, and again. Only Amphimedon wounded Telemachus, and Ctesippus

grazed the shoulder of Eumæus. But Telemachus struck down Amphimedon,

and the herdsman of the kine slew Ctesippus, saying, “Take this, for

the ox foot which thou gavest to our guest.” And all the while Athené

waved her flaming ægis-shield from above, and the suitors fell as birds

are scattered and torn by eagles.

Then Leiodes, the priest, made supplication to Ulysses, saying, “I

never wrought evil in this house, and would have kept others from

it, but they would not. Nought have I done save serve at the altar;

wherefore slay me not.”

And Ulysses made reply, “That thou hast served at the altar of these

men is enough, and also that thou wouldest wed my wife.”

So he slew him; but Phemius, the minstrel, he spared, for he had sung

among the suitors in the hall of compulsion, and not of good will; and

also Medon, the herald, bidding them go into the yard without. There

they sat, holding by the altar and looking fearfully every way, for yet

they feared that they should die.

So the slaughtering of the suitors was ended; and now Ulysses bade

cleanse the hall, and wash the benches and the tables with water, and

purify them with sulphur. And when this was done, that Euryclea, the

nurse, should go to Penelopé and tell her that her husband was indeed

returned. So Euryclea went to her chamber and found the Queen newly

woke from slumber, and told her that her husband was returned, and how

that he had slain the suitors, and how that she had known him by the

scar where the wild boar had wounded him.

And yet the Queen doubted, and said, “Let me go down and see my son,

and these men that are slain, and the man who slew them.”

So she went, and sat in the twilight by the other wall, and Ulysses

sat by a pillar, with his eyes cast down, waiting till his wife should

speak to him. But she was sore perplexed; for now she seemed to know

him, and now she knew him not, being in such evil case, for he had not

suffered that the women should put new robes upon him.

And Telemachus said, “Mother, evil mother, sittest thou apart from my

father, and speakest not to him? Surely thy heart is harder than a

stone.”

But Ulysses said, “Let be Telemachus. Thy mother will know that which

is true in good time. But now let us hide this slaughter for a while,

lest the friends of these men seek vengeance against us. Wherefore let

there be music and dancing in the hall, so that men shall say, ‘This is

the wedding of the Queen, and there is joy in the palace,’ and know not

of the truth.”

So the minstrel played and the women danced. And meanwhile Ulysses went

to the bath, and clothed himself in bright apparel, and came back to

the hall, and Athené made him fair and young to see. Then he sat him

down as before, over against his wife, and said,--

“Surely, O lady, the gods have made thee harder of heart than all women

besides. Would other wife have kept away from her husband, coming back

now after twenty years?”

And when she doubted yet, he spake again, “Hear thou this, Penelopé,

and know that it is I myself, and not another. Dost thou remember how I

built up the bed in our chamber? In the court there grew an olive tree,

stout as a pillar, and round it I built a chamber of stone, and spanned

the chamber with a roof; and I hung also a door, and then I cut off the

leaves of the olive, and planed the trunk, to be smooth and round; and

the bed I inlaid with ivory and silver and gold, and stretched upon it

an ox-hide that was ornamented with silver.”

Then Penelopé knew him, that he was her husband indeed, and ran to him,

and threw her arms about him, and kissed him, saying, “Pardon me, my

lord, if I was slow to know thee; for ever I feared, so many wiles have

men, that some one should deceive me, saying that he was my husband.

But now I know this, that thou art he and not another.”

And they wept over each other and kissed each other. So did Ulysses

come back to his home after twenty years.

THE

ADVENTURES OF ÆNEAS.

CHAPTER I.

When the fair city of Troy was taken and destroyed there appeared to

Æneas, who alone was left of all the great chiefs that had fought

against the Greeks, his mother Venus. And she spake to him, saying,--

“See now, for I will take away the mist that covers thine eyes; see

how Neptune with his trident is over throwing the walls and rooting

up the city from its foundations; and how Juno stands with spear and

shield in the Scæan Gate, and calls fresh hosts from the ships; and how

Pallas sits on the height with the storm-cloud about her and her Gorgon

shield; and how Father Jupiter himself stirs up the enemy against Troy.

Fly, therefore, my son. I will not leave thee till thou shalt reach thy

father’s house.” And as she spake she vanished in the darkness.

Then did Æneas see dreadful forms and gods who were the enemies of

Troy, and before his eyes the whole city seemed to sink down into the

fire. Even as a mountain oak upon the hills on which the woodmen ply

their axes bows its head while all its boughs shake about it, till at

last, as blow comes after blow, with a mighty groan it falls crashing

down from the height, even so the city seemed to fall. Then did Æneas

pass on his way, the goddess leading him, and the flames gave place to

him, and the javelins harmed him not.

But when he was come to his house he bethought him first of the old man

his father; but when he would have carried him to the hills, Anchises

would not, being loath to live in some strange country when Troy had

perished. “Nay,” said he, “fly ye who are strong and in the flower of

your days. But as for me, if the gods had willed that I should live,

they had saved this dwelling for me. Enough is it, yea, and more than

enough, that once I have seen this city taken, and lived. Bid me, then,

farewell as though I were dead. Death will I find for myself. And truly

I have long lingered here a useless stock and hated of the gods since

Jupiter smote me with the blast of his thunder.”

Nor could the old man be moved from his purpose, though his son and

his son’s wife, and even the child Ascanius, besought him with many

tears that he should not make yet heavier the doom that was upon them.

Then was Æneas minded to go back to the battle and die. For what hope

was left? “Thoughtest thou, my father,” he cried, “that I should flee

and leave thee behind? What evil word is this that has fallen from

thy lips? If the gods will have it that nought of Troy should be

left, and thou be minded that thou and thine should perish with the

city, be it so. The way is easy; soon will Pyrrhus be here; Pyrrhus,

red with Priam’s blood; Pyrrhus, who slays the son before the face

of the father, and the father at the altar. Was it for this, kind

Mother Venus, that thou broughtest me safe through fire and sword, to

see the enemy in my home, and my father and my wife and my son lying

slaughtered together? Comrades, give me my arms, and take me back to

the battle. At the least I will die avenged.”

But as he girded on his arms and would have departed from the house,

his wife Creüsa caught his feet upon the threshold, staying him, and

held out the little Ascanius, saying, “If thou goest to thy death, take

wife and child with thee; but if thou hopest aught from arms, guard

first the house where thou hast father and wife and child.”

And lo! as she spake there befell a mighty marvel, for before the face

of father and mother there was seen to shine a light on the head of

the boy Ascanius, and to play upon his waving hair and glitter on his

temples. And when they feared to see this thing, and would have stifled

the flame or quenched it with water, the old man Anchises in great

joy raised his eyes to heaven, and cried aloud, “O Father Jupiter, if

prayer move thee at all, give thine aid and make this omen sure.” And

even as he spake the thunder rolled on his left hand, and a star shot

through the skies, leaving a long trail of light behind, and passed

over the house-tops till it was hidden in the woods of Ida. Then the

old man lifted himself up and did obeisance to the star, and said, “I

delay no more: whithersoever ye lead I will follow. Gods of my country,

save my house and my grandson. This omen is of you. And now, my son, I

refuse not to go.”

Then said Æneas, and as he spake the fire came nearer, and the light

was clearer to see, and the heat more fierce, “Climb, dear father, on

my shoulders; I will bear thee, nor grow weary with the weight. We

will be saved or perish together. The little Ascanius shall go with

me, and my wife follow behind, not over near. And ye, servants of my

house, harken to me; ye mind how that to one who passes out of the city

there is a tomb and a temple of Ceres in a lonely place, and an ancient

cypress-tree hard by. There will we gather by divers ways. And do thou,

my father, take the holy images in thy hands, for as for me, who have

but newly come from battle, I may not touch them till I have washed me

in the running stream.”

And as he spake he put a cloak of lion’s skin upon his shoulders, and

the old man sat thereon. Ascanius also laid hold of his hand, and

Creüsa followed behind. So he went in much dread and trembling. For

indeed before sword and spear of the enemy he had not feared, but now

he feared for them that were with him. But when he was come nigh unto

the gates, and the journey was well-nigh finished, there befell a

grievous mischance, for there was heard a sound as of many feet through

the darkness; and the old man cried to him, “Fly, my son, fly; they are

coming. I see the flashing of shields and swords.” But as Æneas hasted

to go, Creüsa his wife was severed from him. But whether she wandered

from the way or sat down in weariness, no man may say. Only he saw her

no more, nor knew her to be lost till, all his company being met at

the temple of Ceres, she only was found wanting. Very grievous did the

thing seem to him, nor did he cease to cry out in his wrath against

gods and men. Also he bade his comrades have a care of his father and

his son, and of the household gods, and girded him again with arms,

and so passed into the city. And first he went to the wall and to the

gate by which he had come forth, and then to his house, if haply she

had returned thither. But there indeed the men of Greece were come,

and the fire had well-nigh mastered it. And after that he went to the

citadel and to the palace of King Priam. And lo! in the porch of Juno’s

temple, Phœnix and Ulysses were keeping guard over the spoil, even the

treasure of the temples, tables of the gods, and solid cups of gold,

and raiment, and a long array of them that had been taken captive,

children and women. But not the less did he seek his wife through all

the streets of the city, yea, and called her aloud by name. But lo!

as he called, the image of her whom he sought seemed to stand before

him, only greater than she had been while she was yet alive. And the

spirit spake, saying, “Why art thou vainly troubled? These things have

not befallen us against the pleasure of the gods. The ruler of Olympus

willeth not that Creüsa should bear thee company in thy journey. For

thou hast a long journey to take, and many seas to cross, till thou

come to the Hesperian shore, where Lydian Tiber flows softly through a

good land and a fertile. There shalt thou have great prosperity, and

take to thyself a wife of royal race. Weep not then for Creüsa, whom

thou lovest, nor think that I shall be carried away to be a bond-slave

to some Grecian woman. Such fate befits not a daughter of Dardanus and

daughter-in-law of Venus. The mighty Mother of the gods keepeth me in

this land to serve her. And now, farewell, and love the young Ascanius,

even thy son and mine.”

So spake the spirit, and, when Æneas wept and would have spoken,

vanished out of his sight. Thrice he would have cast his arms about her

neck, and thrice the image mocked him, being thin as air and fleeting

as a dream. Then, the night being now spent, he sought his comrades,

and found with much joy and wonder that a great company of men and

women were gathered together, and were willing, all of them, to follow

him whithersoever he went. And now the morning star rose over Mount

Ida, and Æneas, seeing that the Greeks held the city, and that there

was no longer any hope of succor, went his way to the mountains, taking

with him his father.

Now for what remained of that year (for it was the time of summer when

Troy was taken), Æneas, and they that were gathered to him, builded

themselves ships for the voyage, dwelling the while under Mount Ida;

and when the summer was well-nigh come again the work was finished,

and the old man Anchises commanded that they should tarry no longer.

Whereupon they sailed, taking also their gods with them.

There was a certain land of Thrace, which the god Mars loved beyond

all other lands, whereof in time past the fierce Lycurgus, who would

have slain Bacchus, was king. Here, therefore, for the men of the land

were friendly, or, at the least, had been before evil days came upon

Troy, Æneas builded him a city, and called it after his own name. But,

after awhile, as he did sacrifice on a certain day to his mother, even

Venus, that he might have a blessing on his work, slaying also a white

bull to Jupiter, there befell a certain horrible thing. For hard by the

place where he did sacrifice there was a little hill, with much cornel

and myrtle upon it, whereto Æneas coming would have plucked wands

having leaves upon them, that he might cover therewith the altars. But

lo! when he plucked a wand there dropped drops of blood therefrom.

Whereupon great fear came on him, and wonder also. And when seeking to

know the cause of the thing he plucked other wands also, there dropped

blood even as before. Then, having prayed to the nymphs of the land and

to Father Mars that they would turn all evil from him, he essayed the

third time with all his might, setting his knee against the ground, to

pluck forth a wand. Whereupon there issued from the hill a lamentable

voice, saying, “Æneas, why doest thou me such cruel hurt, nor leavest

me in peace in my grave? For indeed I am no stranger to thee, nor

strange is this blood which thou seest. Fly, for the land is cruel, and

the shore greedy of gain. I am Polydorus. Here I was pierced through

with spears, which have grown into these wands that thou seest.”

But Æneas when he heard the voice was sore dismayed, and he remembered

him how King Priam, thinking that it might fare ill with him and the

great city of Troy, had sent his son, Polydorus, by stealth, and much

gold with him, to Polymestor, who was king of Thrace, and how the king,

when Troy had now perished, slew the boy, and took the gold to himself.

For of a truth the love of gold is the root of all evil. And Æneas told

the thing to his father and to the chiefs; and the sentence of all

was that they should depart from the evil land. But first they made a

great funeral for Polydorus, making a high mound of earth, and building

thereon an altar to the dead. This also they bound about with garlands

of sad-colored wool and cypress, and the women of Troy stood about

it with their hair loosened, as is the use of them that mourn. They

offered also bowls of warm milk and blood, and laid the spirit in the

tomb, bidding him farewell three times with a loud voice.

After this, when the time for voyaging was come, and the south wind

blew softly, they launched the ships and set sail. And first they came

to the island of Delos, which, having been used to wander over the sea,

the Lord of the Silver Bow made fast, binding it to Myconos and Gyaros,

and found there quiet anchorage. And when they landed to worship, there

met them Anius, who was priest and king of the place, having a crown

of bay-leaves about his head, who knew Anchises for a friend in time

past, and used to them much hospitality. Then did they pray to the god

saying, “Give us, we beseech thee, a home where we may dwell, and a

name upon the earth, and a city that shall abide, even a second Troy

for them that have escaped from the hands of Achilles and the Greeks.

And do thou answer us, and incline our hearts that we may know.”

But when Æneas had ended these words, straightway the place was shaken,

even the gates of the temple and the bay-trees that were hard by. And

when they were all fallen to the ground there came a voice, saying,

“Son of Dardanus, the land that first bare you shall receive you again.

Seek, then, your ancient mother. Then shall the children of Æneas

bear rule over all lands, yea, and their children’s children to many

generations.” Which when they had heard, they greatly rejoiced, and

would fain know what was the city whither Phœbus would have them go,

that they might cease from their wanderings. Then Anchises, pondering

in his heart the things which he had learnt from the men of old time,

spake thus: “There lieth in mid-ocean a certain island of Crete,

wherein is a mountain, Ida. There was the first beginning of our

nation. Thence came Teucer, our first father, to the land of Troy. Let

us go, then, whither the gods would send us, first doing sacrifice to

the Winds; and, indeed, if but Jupiter help us, ’tis but a three days’

journey for our ships.”

So they offered sacrifice, a bull to Neptune and a bull to the

beautiful Apollo, and a black sheep to the Storm and a white sheep

to the West Wind. There came also a rumor that Idomeneus the Cretan

had fled from his father’s kingdom, and that the land was ready for

him who should take it. Whereupon the men of Troy set sail with a

good heart, and passing among the islands that are called Cyclades,

the wind blowing favorably behind them, so came to Crete. There they

builded a city, and called its name Pergamea, after Pergama, which was

the citadel of Troy. And for a while they tilled the soil; also they

married and were given in marriage, as purposing to abide in the land.

But there came a wasting sickness on the men, and a blight also on the

trees and harvests, filling the year with death. The fields likewise

were parched with drought, and the staff of bread was broken. Then the

old Anchises bade them go yet again to the oracle at Delos, and inquire

of the god what end there should be of these troubles, whence they

should seek for help, and whither they should go.

But as Æneas slept there appeared to him the household gods, which he

had carried out of the burning of Troy, very clear to see in the light

of the moon, which shone through the window of his chamber. And they

spake unto him, saying, “Apollo bids us tell thee here that which he

will tell thee if thou goest to Delos. We who have followed thee over

many seas, even we will bring thy children’s children to great honor,

and make their city ruler over many nations. Faint not, therefore, at

thy long wandering. Thou must seek yet another home. For it was not in

Crete that Apollo bade thee dwell. There is a land which the Greeks

call Hesperia; an ancient land, whose inhabitants are mighty men of

valor; a land of vineyards and wheat. There is our proper home, and

thence came Dardanus our father. Do thou, therefore, tell these things

to the old man Anchises. Seek ye for the land of Hesperia, which men

also call Italy; but as for Crete, Jupiter willeth not that ye should

dwell there.”

And for a while Æneas lay in great fear, with a cold sweat upon him,

so clear was the vision of those whom he saw, nor in anywise like unto

a dream. Then he rose up from his bed, and after prayer and sacrifice

told the thing to Anchises. And the old man saw that he had been

deceived in this matter, and he said, “O my son, now do I remember how

Cassandra was wont to prophesy these things to me, and would speak of

Hesperia and of the land of Italy. But, indeed, no man thought in those

days that the men of Troy should voyage to Hesperia, nor did any take

account of the words of Cassandra. But now let us heed the oracle of

Apollo, and depart.”

So the men of Troy made their ships ready and departed. And after

a while, when they could no more see the land, there fell a great

storm upon them, with a strong wind and great rolling waves, and much

lightning also. Thus were they driven out of their course, and for

three days and nights saw neither the sun nor the stars. But on the

fourth day they came to a land where they saw hills, and smoke rising

therefrom. Then did the men ply their oars amain, and soon came to the

shore. Now this place they found to be one of certain islands which men

name the Strophades. And upon these islands dwell creatures which are

called Harpies, very evil indeed, having the countenances of women and

wings like unto the wings of birds, and long claws. Also their faces

are pale as with much hunger. Now when the men of Troy were come to

this land, they saw many herds of oxen and flocks of goats thereon,

nor any one to watch them. Of these they slew such as they needed,

and, not forgetting to give due share to the gods, made a great feast

upon the shore. But lo! even while they made merry, there came a great

rushing of wings, and the Harpies came upon them, making great havoc

of the meat and fouling all things most horribly. And when they had

departed, the men of Troy sought another place where they might do

sacrifice and eat their meat in peace. But when the Harpies had come

thither also and done in the same fashion, Æneas commanded that the

men should draw their swords and do battle with the beasts. Therefore,

the Harpies coming yet again, Misenus with his trumpet gave the sound

for battle. But lo! they fought as those that beat the air, seeing that

neither sword nor spear availed to wound the beasts. Then again these

departed, one only remaining, by name, Celæno, who, sitting on a rock,

spake after this fashion: “Do ye purpose, sons of Laomedon, to fight

for these cattle that ye have wrongfully taken, or to drive the Harpies

from their kingdom and inheritance? Hear, therefore, my words, which

indeed the almighty Father told to Phœbus, and Phœbus told to me. Ye

journey to Italy, and to Italy shall ye come. Only ye shall not build

a city, and wall it about with walls, till dreadful hunger shall cause

you to eat the very tables whereon ye sup.”

So saying, she departed. But when great fear was fallen upon all,

Anchises lifted up his hands to heaven and prayed to the gods that they

would keep that evil from them.

Then they set sail, and, the south wind blowing, passed by Zacynthus

and Dulichium, and also Ithaca, which they cursed as they passed,

because it was the land of the hateful Ulysses, and so came to Actium,

where they landed. There also they did sacrifice to the gods, and had

games of wrestling and others, rejoicing that they had passed safely

through so many cities of their enemies. And there they wintered, and

Æneas fixed on the doors of the temple of Apollo a shield of bronze

which he had won in battle from the valiant Abas, writing thereon these

words, “ÆNEAS DEDICATES THESE ARMS WON FROM THE VICTORIOUS GREEKS.”

But when the spring was come they set sail, and, leaving behind them

the land of Phæacia, came to Buthrotum that is in Epirus. There indeed

they heard a marvellous thing, even that Helenus, the son of Priam,

was king in these parts, in the room of Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles,

having also to wife Andromaché, who was the widow of Hector. And when

Æneas, wishing to know whether these things were so, journeyed towards

the city, lo! in a grove hard by, by a river which also was called

Simoïs, there stood this same Andromaché, and made offerings to the

spirit of Hector not without many tears. And at the first when she saw

Æneas, and that he wore such arms as the men of Troy were used to wear,

she swooned with fear, but after a while spake thus: “Is this indeed a

real thing that I see? Art thou alive? or, if thou art dead, tell me,

where is my Hector?” So she cried and wept aloud. And Æneas answered

her: “Yes, lady, this is flesh and blood, and not a spirit, that thou

seest. But as for thee, what fortune has befallen thee? Art thou still

wedded to Pyrrhus?”

And she, casting down her eyes, made answer, “O daughter of Priam,

happy beyond thy sisters in that thou wast slain at the tomb of

Achilles, nor wast taken to be a prey of the conqueror! But as for me I

was borne across the sea, to be slave to the haughty son of Achilles.

And when he took to wife Hermione, who was the daughter of Helen, he

gave me to Helenus, as a slave is given to a slave. But Pyrrhus, after

awhile, Orestes slew, taking him unawares, even by the altar of his

father. And when he was dead, part of his kingdom came to Helenus,

who hath called the land Chaonia, after Chaon of Troy, and hath also

builded a citadel, a new Pergama, upon the hills. But tell me, was it

some storm that drave thee hither, or chance, or, lastly, some sending

of the gods? And is Ascanius yet alive--the boy whom I remember? Doth

he yet think of his mother that is dead? And is he stout and of a good

courage, as befits the son of Æneas and sister’s son to Hector?”

And while she spake there came Helenus from the city with a great

company, and bade welcome to his friends with much joy. And Æneas

saw how that all things were ordered and named even as they had been

at Troy, only the things at Troy had been great, and these were very

small. And afterwards King Helenus made a feast to them in his house,

and they drank together and were merry.

But after certain days were passed, Æneas, seeing that the wind favored

them, spake to Helenus, knowing him also to be a prophet of the gods:

“Tell me now, seeing that thou art wise in all manner of divination and

prophecy, how it will fare with us. For indeed all things have seemed

to favor us, and we go not on this journey against the will of the

gods, yet did the Harpy Celæno prophesy evil things, that we should

endure great extremity of hunger. Say, then, of what things I should

most beware, and how I shall best prosper.”

Then Helenus, after due sacrifice, led Æneas to the temple of Phœbus.

And when they were come thither, and the god had breathed into the

seer, even into Helenus, the spirit of prophecy, he spake, saying, “Son

of Venus, that thou takest thy journey across the sea with favor of the

gods is manifest. Hearken, therefore, and I will inform thee of certain

things, though indeed they be few out of many, by which thou mayest

more safely cross unknown seas and get thee to thy haven in Italy.

Much indeed the Fates suffer me not to know, and much Juno forbids me

to speak. Know then, first of all, that Italy, which thou ignorantly

thinkest to be close at hand, is yet far away across many seas. And let

this be a sign to thee that thou art indeed come to the place where

thou wouldst be. When thou shalt see a white sow and thirty pigs at

her teats, then hast thou found the place of thy city that shall be.

And as to the devouring of thy tables for famine, heed it not: Apollo

will help thee at need. But seek not to find a dwelling-place on this

shore of Italy which is near at hand, seeing that it is inhabited by

the accursed sons of Greece. And when thou hast passed it by, and art

come to the land of Sicily, and shalt see the strait of Pelorus open

before thee, do thou keep to thy left hand and avoid the way that is

on thy right. For here in days past was the land rent asunder, so that

the waters of the sea flow between cities and fields that of old time

were joined together. And on the right hand is Scylla, and on the left

Charybdis the whirlpool. But Scylla dwelleth in her cave, a monster

dreadful to behold; for to the middle she is a fair woman, but a beast

of the sea below, even the belly of a dolphin, with heads as of a wolf.

Wherefore it will be better for thee to fetch a compass round the whole

land of Sicily than to come nigh these things, or to see them with

thine eyes. Do thou also remember this, at all places and times, before

all other gods to worship Juno, that thou mayest persuade her, and so

make thy way safely to Italy. And when thou art come thither, seek

the Sibyl that dwelleth at Cumæ, the mad prophetess that writeth the

sayings of Fate upon the leaves of a tree. For these indeed at first

abide in their places, but, the gate being opened, the wind blows them

hither and thither. And when they are scattered she careth not to join

them again, so that they who would inquire of her depart without an

answer. Refuse not to tarry awhile, that thou mayest take counsel of

her, though all things seem to prosper thy journey, and thy comrades

chide thy delay. For she shall tell thee all that shall befall thee in

Italy,--what wars thou shalt wage, and what perils thou must endure,

and what avoid. So much, and no more, is it lawful for me to utter. Do

thou depart, and magnify our country of Troy even to the heaven.”

And when the seer had ended these sayings, he commanded his people that

they should carry to the ships gifts: gold, and carvings of ivory, and

much silver, and caldrons that had been wrought at Dodona; also a coat

of chain mail, and a helmet with a fair plume, which Pyrrhus had worn.

Also he gave gifts to the old man Anchises. Horses, too, he gave, and

guides for the journey, and tackling for the ships, and arms for the

whole company. Then did he bid farewell to the old Anchises. Andromaché

also came, bringing broidered robes, and for Ascanius a Phrygian cloak,

and many like things, which she gave him, saying, “Take these works

of my hands, that they may witness to thee of the abiding love of her

that was once Hector’s wife. For in truth thou art the very image of my

Astyanax, so like are thy eyes and face and hands. And indeed he would

now be of an age with thee.” Then Æneas also said farewell, weeping the

while. “Be ye happy, whose wanderings are over and rest already won; ye

have no seas to cross, nor fields of Italy, still flying as we advance,

to seek. Rather ye have the likeness of Troy before your eyes. And be

sure that if ever I come to this land of Italy which I seek, there

shall be friendship between you and me, and between your children and

my children, forever.”

Then they set sail, and at eventide drew their ships to the land and

slept on the beach. But at midnight Palinurus, the pilot, rising from

his bed, took note of the winds and of the stars, even of Arcturus, and

the Greater Bear and the Less, and Orion with his belt of gold. Seeing

therefore that all things boded fair weather to come, he blew loud the

signal that they should depart; which they did forthwith. And when the

morning was now growing red in the east, behold a land with hills dimly

seen and shores lying low in the sea. And, first of all, the old man

Anchises cried, “Lo! there is Italy,” and after him all the company.

Then took Anchises a mighty cup, and filled it with wine, and, standing

on the stern, said, “Gods of sea and land, and ye that have power of

the air, give us an easy journey, and send such winds as may favor

us.” And even as he spake the wind blew more strongly behind. Also the

harbor mouth grew wider to behold, and on the hills was seen a temple

of Minerva. And lo! upon the shore four horses white as snow, which

the old man seeing, said, “Thou speakest of war, land of the stranger;

for the horse signifieth war, yet doth he also use himself to run in

the chariot, and to bear the bit in company; therefore also will we

hope for peace.” Then did they sacrifice to Minerva, and to Juno also,

which rites the seer Helenus had chiefly commanded. And this being done

they trimmed their sails and departed from the shore, fearing lest

some enemy, the Greeks being in that place, should set upon them. So

did they pass by Tarentum, which Hercules builded, also the hills of

Caulon, and Scylacium, where many ships are broken. And from Scylacium

they beheld Ætna, and heard a great roaring of the sea, and saw also

the waves rising up to heaven. Then said Anchises, “Lo! this is that

Charybdis whereof the seer Helenus spake to us. Ply your oars, my

comrades, and let us fly therefrom.” So they strove amain in rowing,

and Palinurus also steered to the left, all the other ships following

him. And many times the waves lifted them to the heaven, and many

times caused them to go down to the deep. But at the last, at setting

of the sun, they came to the land of the Cyclops.

There, indeed, they lay in a harbor, well sheltered from all winds that

blow, but all the night Ætna thundered dreadfully, sending forth a

cloud with smoke of pitch, and ashes fiery hot, and also balls of fire,

and rocks withal that had been melted with heat. For indeed men say

that the giant Enceladus lieth under this mountain, being scorched with

the lightning of Jupiter, and that from him cometh forth this flame;

also that when, being weary, he turneth from one side to the other, the

whole land of the Three Capes is shaken. All that night they lay in

much fear, nor knew what the cause of this uproar might be, for indeed

the sky was cloudy, nor could the moon be seen.

And when it was morning, lo! there came forth from the woods a

stranger, very miserable to behold, in filthy garments fastened with

thorns, and with beard unshaven, who stretched out to them his hands

as one who prayed. And the men of Troy knew him to be a Greek. But he,

seeing them, and knowing of what country they were, stood awhile in

great fear, but afterwards ran very swiftly towards them, and used to

them many prayers, weeping also the while. “I pray you, men of Troy,

by the stars and by the gods, and by this air which we breathe, to

take me away from this land, whithersoever ye will. And indeed I ask

not whither. That I am a Greek, I confess, and also that I bare arms

against Troy. Wherefore drown me, if ye will, in the sea. Only let me

die, if die I must, by the hands of men.”

And he clung to their knees. Then Æneas bade him tell who he was,

and how he came to be in this plight And the man made answer, “I am

a man of Ithaca, and a comrade of the unhappy Ulysses. My name is

Achæmenides, and my father was Adamastus. And when my comrades fled

from this accursed shore, they left me in the Cyclops’ cave. Hideous is

he to see, and savage, and of exceeding great stature, and he feeds on

the flesh of men. I myself saw with these eyes how he lay and caught

two of my companions and brake them on the stone; aye, and I saw

their limbs quiver between his teeth. Yet did he not do such things

unpunished, for Ulysses endured not to behold these deeds, and when the

giant lay asleep, being overcome with wine, we, after prayer made to

the gods, and lots cast what each should do, bored out his eye, for one

eye he had, huge as a round shield of Argos, or as the circle of the

sun, and so did we avenge our comrades’ death. Do ye then fly with all

the speed ye may. For know that as this shepherd Polyphemus--a shepherd

he is by trade--so are a hundred other Cyclopés, huge and savage as he,

who dwell on these shores and wander over the hills. And now for three

months have I dwelt in these woods, eating berries and cornels and

herbs of the field. And when I saw your ships, I hastened to meet them.

Do ye with me, therefore, as ye will, so that I flee from this accursed

race.”

And even while he spake the men of Troy saw the shepherd Polyphemus

among his flocks, and that he made as if he would come to the shore.

Horrible to behold was he, huge and shapeless and blind. And when he

came to the sea, he washed the blood from the wound, grinding his teeth

the while; and though he went far into the sea, yet did not the waves

touch his middle. And the men of Troy, having taken the suppliant on

board, fled with all their might; and he hearing their rowing would

have reached to them, but could not. Therefore did he shout aloud, and

the Cyclopés hearing him, hasted to the shore. Then did the men of Troy

behold them, a horrid company, tall as a grove of oaks or cypresses.

Nor knew they in their fear what they should do, seeing that on the

one hand was the land of the Cyclopés, and on the other Scylla and

Charybdis, of which the seer Helenus had bidden them beware. But while

they doubted, there blew a north wind from Pelorus, wherewith they

sailed onwards, and Achæmenides with them. So they came to Ortygia,

whither, as men say, the river Alpheüs floweth under the sea from

the land of Pelops, and so mingleth with Arethusa; and afterwards

they passed the promontory of Pachynus, Camarina also, and Gela, and

other cities likewise, till they came to Lilybæum, and so at last to

Drepanum. There the old man Anchises died, and was buried.

CHAPTER II.

Not many days after Æneas and his companions set sail. But scarce were

they out of sight of the land of Sicily when Juno espied them. Very

wroth was she that they should be now drawing near to the end of their

journey, and she said to herself, “Shall I be balked of my purpose

nor be able to keep these men of Troy from Italy? Minerva, indeed,

because one man sinned, even Ajax Oïleus, burned the fleet of the

Greeks, and drowned the men in the sea. For the ships she smote with

the thunderbolts of Jupiter; and as for Ajax, him she caught up with a

whirlwind, and dashed him upon the rocks, piercing him through. Only

I, though I be both sister and wife to Jupiter, avail nothing against

this people. And who that heareth this in after time shall pay me due

honor and sacrifice?”

Then she went, thinking these things in her heart, to the land of

Æolia, where King Æolus keepeth the winds under bolt and bar. Mightily

do they roar within the mountain, but their King restraineth them and

keepeth them in bounds, being indeed set to do this very thing, lest

they should carry both the heavens and the earth before them in their

great fury. To him said Juno, “O Æolus, whom Jupiter hath made king

of the winds, a nation which I hate is sailing over the Tuscan sea.

Loose now thy storms against them, and drown their ships in the sea.

And hearken what I will do for thee. Twelve maidens I have that wait

on me continually, who are passing fair, and the fairest of all, even

Deïopea, I will give thee to wife.”

To whom answered King Æolus, “It is for thee, O Queen, to order what

thou wilt, it being of thy gift that I hold this sovereignty and eat at

the table of the gods.”

So saying he drave in with his spear the folding-doors of the prison

of the winds, and these straightway in a great host rushed forth,

even all the winds together, and rolled great waves upon the shore.

And straightway there arose a great shouting of men and straining of

cables; nor could the sky nor the light of the day be seen any more,

but a darkness as of night came down upon the sea, and there were

thunders and lightnings over the whole heavens.

Then did Æneas grow cold with fear; and stretching out his hands to

heaven, he cried, “Happy they who fell under the walls of Troy, before

their fathers’ eyes! Would to the gods that thou hadst slain me,

Diomed, bravest of the Greeks, even as Hector fell by the spear of

Achilles, or tall Sarpedon, or all the brave warriors whose dead bodies

Simoïs rolled down to the sea!”

But as he spake a blast of wind struck his sails from before, and

his ship was turned broad-side to the waves. Three others also were

tossed upon the rocks which men call the “Altars,” and three into the

quicksands of the Syrtis. And another, in which sailed the men of

Lycia, with Orontes, their chief, was struck upon the stern by a great

sea and sunk. And when Æneas looked, lo! there were some swimming in

the waves, and broken planks also, and arms and treasures of Troy.

Others also were shattered by the waves, and those of Ilioneüs and

Achates, and of Abas and the old man Alethes.

But King Neptune was aware of the tumult where he sat at the bottom of

the sea, and raising his head above the waves, looked forth and saw how

the ships were scattered abroad and the men of Troy were in sore peril.

Also he knew his sister’s wrath and her craft. Then he called to him

the winds and said, “What is this, ye winds, that ye trouble heaven and

earth without leave of me? Now will I--but I must first bid the waves

be still, only be sure that ye shall not thus escape hereafter. Begone,

and tell your King that the dominion over the sea belongeth unto me,

and bid him keep him to his rocks.”

Then he bade the waves be still; also he scattered the clouds and

brought back the sun. And Cymothea and Triton, gods of the sea, drew

the ships from the rocks, Neptune also lifting them with his trident.

Likewise he opened the quicksands, and delivered the ships that were

therein. And this being done he crossed the sea in his chariot, and

the waves beholding him sank to rest, even as it befalls when there is

sedition in the city, and the people are wroth, and men throw stones

and firebrands, till lo! of a sudden there cometh forth a reverend

sire, a good man and true, and all men are silent and hearken to him,

and the uproar is stayed. So was the sea stilled, beholding its King.

Then Æneas and his companions, being sore wearied with the storm, made

for the nearest shore, even Africa, where they found a haven running

far into the land, into which the waves come not till their force be

spent. On either side thereof are cliffs very high, and shining woods

over them. Also at the harbor’s head is a cave and a spring of sweet

water within, a dwelling-place of the Nymphs. Hither came Æneas, with

seven ships. Right glad were the men of Troy to stand upon the dry land

again. Then Achates struck a spark out of flint, and they lighted a

fire with leaves and the like; also they took of the wheat which had

been in the ships, and made ready to parch and to bruise it, that they

might eat. Meanwhile Æneas had climbed the cliff, if haply he might see

some of his companions’ ships. These indeed he saw not, but he espied

three great stags upon the shore and a herd following them. Wherefore,

taking the arrows and the bow which Achates bare with him, he let fly,

slaying the leaders and others also, till he had gotten seven, one

for each ship. Then made he his way to the landing-place, and divided

the prey. Also he made distribution of the wine which Acestes, their

host in Sicily, had given them as they were about to depart, and spake

comfortable words to them, saying, “O my friends, be ye sure that there

will be an end to these troubles; and indeed ye have suffered worse

things before. Be ye of good cheer therefore. Haply ye shall one day

have pleasure in thinking of these things. For be sure that the gods

have prepared a dwelling-place for us in Italy, where we shall build a

new Troy, in great peace and happiness. Wherefore endure unto the day

of prosperity.”

Then they made ready the feast, and roasted of the meat upon spits, and

boiled other in water. Also they drank of the wine and were comforted.

And after supper they talked much of them that were absent, doubting

whether they were alive or dead.

All these things did Jupiter behold; and even as he beheld them there

came to him Venus, having a sad countenance and her shining eyes dim

with tears, and spake: “O great Father, that rulest all things, what

have Æneas and the men of Troy sinned against thee, that the whole

world is shut against them? Didst not thou promise that they should

rule over land and sea? Why, then, art thou turned back from thy

purpose? With this I was wont to comfort myself for the evil fate of

Troy, but lo! this same fate follows them still, nor is there any end

to their troubles. And yet it was granted to Antenor, himself also a

man of Troy, that he should escape from the Greeks, and coming to the

Liburnian land, where Timavus flows with much noise into the sea, build

a city and find rest for himself. But we, who are thy children, are

kept far from the land which thou hast sworn to give us.”

Then her father kissed her once and again, and answered smiling, “Fear

not, my daughter, the fate of thy children changeth not. Thou shalt

see this city for which thou lookest, and shalt receive thy son, the

great-hearted Æneas, into the heavens. Hearken, therefore, and I will

tell thee things to come. Æneas shall war with the nations of Italy,

and shall subdue them, and build a city, and rule therein for three

years. And after the space of thirty years shall the boy Ascanius, who

shall hereafter be called Iülus also, change the place of his throne

from Lavinium unto Alba; and for three hundred years shall there be

kings in Alba of the kindred of Hector. Then shall a priestess bear

to Mars twin sons, whom a she-wolf shall suckle; of whom the one, even

Romulus, shall build a city, dedicating it to Mars, and call it Rome,

after his own name. To which city have I given empire without bound or

end. And Juno also shall repent her of her wrath, and join counsel with

me, cherishing the men of Rome, so that they shall bear rule even over

Argos and Mycenæ.”

And when he had said this, he sent down his messenger, even Mercury, to

turn the heart of Dido and her people, where they dwelt in the city of

Carthage, which they had builded, so that they should deal kindly with

the strangers.

Now it came to pass on the next day that Æneas, having first hidden

his ships in a bay that was well covered with trees, went forth to spy

out the new land whither he was come, and Achates only went with him.

And Æneas had in each hand a broad-pointed spear. And as he went there

met him in the middle of the wood his mother, but habited as a Spartan

virgin, for she had hung a bow from her shoulders after the fashion of

a huntress, and her hair was loose, and her tunic short to the knees,

and her garments gathered in a knot upon her breast. Then first the

false huntress spake, “If perchance ye have seen one of my sisters

wandering hereabouts, make known to me the place. She is girded with a

quiver, and is clothed with the skin of a spotted lynx, or, may be, she

hunts a wild boar with horn and hound.”

To whom Æneas, “I have not seen nor heard sister of thine, O

virgin--for what shall I call thee? for, of a surety, neither is thy

look as of a mortal woman, nor yet thy voice. A goddess certainly thou

art, sister of Phœbus, or, haply, one of the nymphs. But whosoever

thou art, look favorably upon us and help us. Tell us in what land we

be, for the winds have driven us hither, and we know not aught of place

or people.”

And Venus said, “Nay, stranger, I am not such as ye think. We virgins

of Tyre are wont to carry a quiver and to wear a buskin of purple.

For indeed it is a Tyrian city that is hard by, though the land be

Lybia. And of this city Dido is Queen, having come hither from Tyre,

flying from the wrong-doing of her brother. And indeed the story of the

thing is long, but I will recount the chief matter thereof to thee.

The husband of this Dido was one Sichæus, richest among all the men

of Phœnicia, and greatly beloved of his wife, whom he married from a

virgin. Now the brother of this Sichæus was Pygmalion, the King of the

country, and he exceeded all men in wickedness. And when there arose a

quarrel between them, the King, being exceedingly mad after gold, took

him unaware, even as he did sacrifice at the altar, and slew him. And

the King hid the matter many days from Dido, and cheated her with false

hopes. But at the last there came to her in her dreams the likeness of

the dead man, baring his wounds and showing the wickedness which had

been done. Also he bade her make haste and fly from that land, and,

that she might do this the more easily, told her of great treasure,

gold and silver, that was hidden in the earth. And Dido, being much

moved by these things, made ready for flight; also she sought for

companions, and there came together to her all as many as hated the

King or feared him. Then did they seize ships that chanced to be ready,

and laded them with gold, even the treasure of King Pygmalion, and

so fled across the sea. And in all this was a woman the leader. Then

came they to this place, where thou seest the walls and citadel of

Carthage, and bought so much land as they could cover with a bull’s

hide. And now do ye answer me this, Whence come ye, and whither do ye

go?”

Then answered Æneas, “Should I tell the whole story of our wanderings,

and thou have leisure to hear, evening would come ere I could make an

end. We are men of Troy, who, having journeyed over many seas, have

now been driven by storms to this shore of Lybia. And as for me, men

call me the Prince Æneas. The land I seek is Italy, and my race is from

Jupiter himself. With twenty ships did I set sail, going in the way

whereon the gods sent me. And of these scarce seven are left. And now,

seeing that Europe and Asia endure me not, I wander over the desert

places of Africa.”

But Venus suffered him not to speak more, but said, “Whoever thou art,

stranger, that art come to this Tyrian city, thou art surely beloved by

the gods. And now go, show thyself to the Queen. And as for thy ships

and thy companions, I tell that they are safe in the haven, if I have

not learnt augury in vain. See those twenty swans, how joyously they

fly! And now there cometh an eagle swooping down from the sky, putting

them to confusion; but now again they move in due order, and some are

settling on the earth and some preparing to settle. Even so doth it

fare with thy ships, for either are they already in the haven or enter

thereinto with sails full set.”

And as she spake she turned away, and there shone a rosy light from her

neck; also there came from her hair a sweet savor as of ambrosia, and

her garments grew unto her feet; and Æneas perceived that she was his

mother, and cried aloud,--

“O my mother, why dost thou mock me so often with false shows, nor

sufferest me to join my hand unto thy hand, and to speak with thee face

to face?”

And he went towards the walls of the city. But Venus covered him and

his companions with a mist, that no man might see them, or hinder them,

or inquire of their business, and then departed to Paphos, where was

her temple and also many altars of incense. Then the men hastened on

their way, and mounting a hill which hung over the city, marvelled to

behold it, for indeed it was very great and noble, with mighty gates

and streets, and a multitude that walked therein. For some built the

walls and the citadel, rolling great stones with their hands, and

others marked out places for houses. Also they chose those that should

give judgment and bear rule in the city. Some, too, digged out harbors,

and others laid the foundations of a theatre, and cut out great pillars

of stone. Like to bees they were, when, the summer being newly come,

the young swarms go forth, or when they labor filling the cells with

honey, and some receive the burdens of those that return from the

fields, and others keep off the drones from the hive. Even so labored

the men of Tyre. And when Æneas beheld them he cried, “Happy ye, who

even now have a city to dwell in!” And being yet hidden by the mist, he

went in at the gate and mingled with the men, being seen of none.

Now in the midst of the city was a wood, very thick with trees, and

here the men of Carthage, first coming to the land from their voyage,

had digged out of the ground that which Juno had said should be a sign

to them, even a horse’s head! for that, finding this, their city would

be mighty in war, and full of riches. Here, then, Dido was building a

temple to Juno, very splendid, with threshold of bronze, and many steps

thereunto; of bronze also were the door-posts and the gates. And here

befell a thing which gave much comfort and courage to Æneas; for as he

stood and regarded the place, waiting also for the Queen, he saw set

forth in order upon the walls the battles that had been fought at Troy,

the sons of Atreus also, and King Priam, and fierce Achilles. Then

said he, not without tears, “Is there any land, O Achates, that is not

filled with our sorrows? Seest thou Priam? Yet withal there is a reward

for virtue here also, and tears and pity for the troubles of men. Fear

not, therefore. Surely the fame of these things shall profit us.”

Then he looked, satisfying his soul with the paintings on the walls.

For there was the city of Troy. In this part of the field the Greeks

fled and the youth of Troy pursued them, and in that the men of Troy

fled, and Achilles followed hard upon them in his chariot. Also he saw

the white tents of Rhesus, King of Thrace, whom the fierce Diomed slew

in his sleep, when he was newly come to Troy, and drave his horses to

the camp before they ate of the grass of the fields of Troy or drank

the waters of Xanthus. There also Troïlus was pictured, ill-matched in

battle with the great Achilles. His horses bare him along; but he lay

on his back in the chariot, yet holding the reins, and his neck and

head were dragged upon the earth, and the spear-point made a trail in

the dust. And in another place the women of Troy went suppliant-wise

to the temple of Minerva, bearing a great and beautiful robe, sad and

beating their breasts, and with hair unbound; but the goddess regarded

them not. Also Achilles dragged the body of Hector three times round

the walls of Troy, and was selling it for gold. And Æneas groaned

when he saw the man whom he loved, and the old man Priam reaching out

helpless hands. Also he knew himself, fighting in the midst of the

Grecian chiefs; black Memnon also he knew, and the hosts of the East;

and Penthesilea leading the army of the Amazons with shields shaped as

the moon. Fierce she was to see, with one breast bared for battle, and

a golden girdle beneath it, a damsel daring to fight with men.

But while Æneas marvelled to see these things, lo! there came, with a

great throng of youths behind her, Dido, most beautiful of women, fair

as Diana, when, on the banks of Eurotas or on the hills of Cynthus, she

leads the dance with a thousand nymphs of the mountains about her. On

her shoulder she bears a quiver, and overtops them all, and her mother,

even Latona, silently rejoices to behold her. So fair and seemly to see

was Dido as she bare herself right nobly in the midst, being busy in

the work of her kingdom. Then she sat herself down on a lofty throne

in the gate of the temple, with many armed men about her. And she did

justice between man and man; also she divided the work of the city,

sharing it equally or parting it by lot.

Then of a sudden Æneas heard a great clamor, and saw a company of men

come quickly to the place, among whom were Antheus and Sergestus and

Cloanthus, and others of the men of Troy that had been parted from him

in the storm. Right glad was he to behold them, yet was not without

fear; and though he would fain have come forth and caught them by the

hand, yet did he tarry, waiting to hear how the men had fared, where

they had left their ships, and wherefore they were come.

Then Ilioneus, leave being now given that he should speak, thus began:

“O Queen, whom Jupiter permits to build a new city in these lands, we

men of Troy, whom the winds have carried over many seas, pray thee

that thou save our ships from fire, and spare a people that serveth

the gods. For, indeed, we are not come to waste the dwellings of this

land, or to carry off the spoils to our ships. For, of a truth, they

who have suffered so much think not of such deeds. There is a land

which the Greeks call Hesperia, but the people themselves Italy, after

the name of their chief; an ancient land, mighty in arms and fertile

of corn. Hither were we journeying, when a storm arising scattered our

ships, and only these few that thou seest escaped to the land. And can

there be nation so savage that it receiveth not shipwrecked men on its

shore, but beareth arms against them, and forbiddeth them to land? Nay,

but if ye care not for men, yet regard the gods, who forget neither

them that do righteously nor them that transgress. We had a king,

Æneas, than whom there lived not a man more dutiful to gods and men and

greater in war. If indeed he be yet alive, then we fear not at all. For

of a truth it will not repent thee to have helped us. And if not, other

friends have we, as Acestes of Sicily. Grant us, therefore, to shelter

our ships from the wind: also to fit them with fresh timber from the

woods, and to make ready oars for rowing, so that, finding again our

King and our companions, we may gain the land of Italy. But if he be

dead, and Ascanius his son lost also, then there is a dwelling ready

for us in the land of Sicily, with Acestes, who is our friend.”

Then Dido, her eyes bent on the ground, thus spake, “Fear not, men of

Troy. If we have seemed to deal harshly with you, pardon us, seeing

that, being newly settled in this land, we must keep watch and ward

over our coasts. But as for the men of Troy, and their deeds in

arms, who knows them not? Think not that we in Carthage are so dull

of heart, or dwell so remote from man that we are ignorant of these

things. Whether, therefore, ye will journey to Italy, or rather return

to Sicily and King Acestes, know that I will give you all help, and

protect you; or, if ye will, settle in this land of ours. Yours is this

city which I am building. I will make no difference between man of Troy

and man of Tyre. Would that your King also were here! Surely I will

send those that shall seek him in all parts of Libya, lest haply he

should be gone astray in any forest or strange city of the land.”

And when Æneas and Achates heard these things, they were glad, and

would have come forth from the cloud, and Achates said, “What thinkest

thou? Lo, thy comrades are safe, saving him whom we saw with our own

eyes drowned in the waves; and all other things are according as thy

mother said.”

And even as he spake the cloud parted from about them, and Æneas stood

forth, very bright to behold, with face and breast as of a god, for

his mother had given to him hair beautiful to see, and cast about him

the purple light of youth, even as a workman sets ivory in some fair

ornament, or compasseth about silver or marble of Paros with gold. Then

spake he to the Queen, “Lo! I am he whom ye seek, even Æneas of Troy,

scarcely saved from the waters of the sea. And as for thee, O Queen,

seeing that thou only hast been found to pity the unspeakable sorrows

of Troy, and biddest us, though we be but poor exiles and lacking all

things, to share thy city and thy home, may the gods do so to thee as

thou deservest. And, of a truth, so long as the rivers run to the seas,

and the shadows fall on the hollows of the hills, so long will thy name

and thy glory survive, whatever be the land to which the gods shall

bring me.” Then gave he his right hand to Ilioneus, and his left hand

to Sergestus, and greeted him with great joy.

And Dido, hearing these things, was silent for a while, but at last

she spake: “What ill fortune brings thee into perils so great? what

power drave thee to these savage shores? Well do I mind me how in days

gone by there came to Sidon one Teucer, who, having been banished from

his country, sought help from Belus that he might find a kingdom for

himself. And it chanced that in those days Belus, my father, had newly

conquered the land of Cyprus. From that day did I know the tale of

Troy, and thy name also, and the chiefs of Greece. Also I remember that

Teucer spake honorably of the men of Troy, saying that he was himself

sprung of the old Teucrian stock. Come ye, therefore, to my palace. I

too have wandered far, even as you, and so have come to this land, and

having suffered much, have learnt to succor them that suffer.”

So saying she led Æneas into her palace; also she sent to his

companions in the ships great store of provisions, even twenty oxen,

and a hundred bristly swine, and a hundred ewe sheep with their lambs.

But in the palace a great feast was set forth, couches covered with

broidered purple, and silver vessels without end, and cups of gold,

whereon were embossed the mighty deeds of the men of old time.

And in the mean time Æneas sent Achates in haste to the ships, that he

might fetch Ascanius to the feast. Also he bade that the boy should

bring with him gifts of such things as they had saved from the ruins of

Troy, a mantle stiff with broidery of gold and a veil broidered with

yellow acanthus, which the fair Helen had taken with her, flying from

her home; but Leda, her mother, had given them to Helen; a sceptre

likewise which Ilione, first-born of the daughters of Priam, had

carried, and a necklace of pearls, and a double crown of jewels and

gold.

But Venus was troubled in heart, fearing evil to her son should the

men of Tyre be treacherous, after their wont, and Juno remembered her

wrath. Wherefore, taking counsel with herself, she called to the winged

boy, even Love, that was her son, and spake, “My son, who art all my

power and strength, who laughest at the thunders of Jupiter, thou

knowest how Juno, being exceedingly wroth against thy brother Æneas,

causeth him to wander out of the way over all lands. This day Dido

hath him in her palace, and speaketh him fair; but I fear me much how

these things may end. Wherefore hear thou that which I purpose. Thy

brother hath even now sent for the boy Ascanius, that he may come to

the palace, bringing with him gifts of such things as they saved from

the ruins of Troy. Him will I cause to fall into a deep sleep, and hide

in Cythera or Idalium, and do thou for one night take upon thee his

likeness. And when Queen Dido at the feast shall hold thee in her lap,

and kiss and embrace thee, do thou breathe by stealth thy fire into her

heart.”

Then did Love as his mother bade him, and put off his wings, and took

upon him the shape of Ascanius, but on the boy Venus caused there to

fall a deep sleep, and carried him to the woods of Idalium, and lapped

him in sweet-smelling flowers. And in his stead Love carried the gifts

to the Queen. And when he was come they sat down to the feast, the

Queen being in the midst under a canopy. Æneas also and the men of

Troy lay on coverlets of purple, to whom serving-men brought water

and bread in baskets and napkins; and within fifty handmaids were

ready to replenish the store of victual and to fan the fire; and a

hundred others, with pages as many, loaded the tables with dishes and

drinking-cups. Many men of Tyre also were bidden to the feast. Much

they marvelled at the gifts of Æneas, and much at the false Ascanius.

Dido also could not satisfy herself with looking on him, nor knew what

trouble he was preparing for her in the time to come. And he, having

first embraced the father who was not his father, and clung about his

neck, addressed himself to Queen Dido, and she ever followed him with

her eyes, and sometimes would hold him on her lap. And still he worked

upon her that she should forget the dead Sichæus and conceive a new

love in her heart.

But when they first paused from the feast, lo! men set great bowls upon

the table and filled them to the brim with wine. Then did the Queen

call for a great vessel of gold, with many jewels upon it, from which

Belus, and all the kings from Belus, had drunk, and called for wine,

and having filled it, she cried, “O Jupiter, whom they call the god of

hosts and guests, cause that this be a day of joy for the men of Troy

and for them of Tyre, and that our children remember it forever. Also,

Bacchus, giver of joy, be present, and kindly Juno.” And when she had

touched the wine with her lips, she handed the great cup to Prince

Bitias, who drank thereout a mighty draught, and the other princes

after him. Then the minstrel Iopas, whom Atlas himself had taught,

sang to the harp, of the moon, how she goes on her way, and of the

sun, how his light is darkened. He sang also of men, and of the beasts

of the field, whence they come; and of the stars, Arcturus, and the

Greater Bear and the Less, and the Hyades; and of the winter sun, why

he hastens to dip himself in the ocean; and of the winter nights, why

they tarry so long. The Queen also talked much of the story of Troy, of

Priam, and of Hector, asking many things, as of the arms of Memnon, and

of the horses of Diomed, and of Achilles, how great he was. And at last

she said to Æneas, “Tell us now thy story, how Troy was taken, and thy

wanderings over land and sea.” And Æneas made answer, “Nay, O Queen,

but thou biddest me renew a sorrow unspeakable. Yet, if thou art minded

to hear these things, hearken.” And he told her all that had befallen

him, even to the day when his father Anchises died.

Much was Queen Dido moved by the story, and much did she marvel at him

that told it, and scarce could sleep for thinking of him. And the next

day she spake to Anna, her sister, “O my sister, I have been troubled

this night with ill dreams, and my heart is disquieted within me. What

a man is this stranger that hath come to our shores! How noble of

mien! How bold in war! Sure I am that he is of the sons of the gods.

What fortunes have been his! Of what wars he told us! Surely were I

not steadfastly purposed that I would not yoke me again in marriage,

this were the man to whom I might yield. Only he--for I will tell thee

the truth, my sister--only he, since the day when Sichæus died by his

brother’s hand, hath moved my heart. But may the earth swallow me up,

or the almighty Father strike me with lightning, ere I stoop to such

baseness. The husband of my youth hath carried with him my love, and he

shall keep it in his grave.”

So she spake, with many tears. And her sister made answer, “Why wilt

thou waste thy youth in sorrow, without child or husband? Thinkest

thou that there is care or remembrance of such things in the grave?

No suitors indeed have pleased thee here or in Tyre, but wilt thou

also contend with a love that is after thine own heart? Think too of

the nations among whom thou dwellest, how fierce they are, and of thy

brother at Tyre, what he threatens against thee. Surely it was by the

will of the gods, and of Juno chiefly, that the ships of Troy came

hither. And this city which thou buildest, to what greatness will

it grow if only thou wilt make for thyself such alliance! How great

will be the glory of Carthage if the strength of Troy be joined unto

her! Only do thou pray to the gods and offer sacrifices; and, for the

present, seeing that the time of sailing is now past, make excuse that

these strangers tarry with thee awhile.”

Thus did Anna comfort her sister and encourage her. And first the two

offered sacrifice to the gods, chiefly to Juno, who careth for the bond

of marriage. Also, examining the entrails of slain beasts, they sought

to learn the things that should happen thereafter. And ever Dido would

company with Æneas, leading him about the walls of the city which she

builded. And often she would begin to speak and stay in the midst of

her words. And when even was come, she would hear again and again at

the banquet the tale of Troy, and while others slept would watch, and

while he was far away would seem to see him and to hear him. Ascanius,

too, she would embrace for love of his father, if so she might cheat

her own heart. But the work of the city was stayed meanwhile; nor did

the towers rise in their places, nor the youth practise themselves in

arms.

Then Juno, seeing how it fared with the Queen, spake to Venus, “Are ye

satisfied with your victory, thou and thy son, that ye have vanquished

the two of you one woman? Well I knew that thou fearedst lest this

Carthage should harm thy favorite. But why should there be war between

us? Thou hast what thou seekedst. Let us make alliance. Let Dido obey a

Phrygian husband, and bring the men of Tyre as her dowry.”

But Venus knew that she spake with ill intent, to the end that the

men of Troy should not reign in the land of Italy. Nevertheless she

dissembled with her tongue, and spake, “Who would not rather have peace

with thee than war? Only I doubt whether this thing shall be to the

pleasure of Jupiter. This thou must learn, seeing that thou art his

wife, and where thou leadest I will follow.”

So the two, taking counsel together, ordered things in this wise. The

next day a great hunting was prepared. For as soon as ever the sun was

risen upon the earth, the youth of the city assembled, with nets and

hunting-spears, and dogs that ran by scent. And the princes of Carthage

waited for the Queen at the palace door, where her horse stood champing

the bit, with trappings of purple and gold. And after a while she came

forth with many following her. And she had upon her a Sidonian mantle,

with a border wrought with divers colors; of gold was her quiver, and

of gold the knot of her hair, and of gold the clasp to her mantle.

Æneas likewise came forth, beautiful as is Apollo when he leaveth Lydia

and the stream of Xanthus, coming to Delos, and hath about his hair a

wreath of bay-leaves and a circlet of gold. So fair was Æneas to see.

And when the hunters came to the hills, they found great store of goats

and stags, which they chased. And of all the company Ascanius was the

foremost, thinking scorn of such hunting, and wishing that a wild boar

or a lion out of the hills should come forth to be his prey.

And now befell a great storm, with much thunder and hail, from which

the hunters sought shelter. But Æneas and the Queen, being left of all

their company, came together to the same cave. And there they plighted

their troth one to another. Nor did the Queen after that make secret of

her love, but called Æneas her husband. Straightway went Rumor and told

these things through the cities of Libya. Now Rumor, men say, is the

youngest daughter of Earth, a marvellous creature, moving very swiftly

with feet and wings, and having many feathers upon her, and under every

feather an eye and a tongue and a mouth and an ear. In the night she

flieth between heaven and earth, and sleepeth not; and in the day she

sitteth on some housetop or lofty tower, or spreadeth fear over mighty

cities; and she loveth that which is false even as she loveth that

which is true. So now she went telling through Libya how Æneas of Troy

was come, and Dido was wedded to him, and how they lived careless and

at ease, and thinking not of the work to which they were called.

And first of all she went to Prince Iarbas, who himself had sought Dido

in marriage. And Iarbas was very wroth when he heard it, and, coming to

the temple of Jupiter, spread his grief before the god, how that he had

given a place on his coasts to this Dido, and would have taken her to

wife, but that she had married a stranger from Phrygia, another Paris,

whose dress and adornments were of a woman rather than of a man.

And Jupiter saw that this was so, and he said to Mercury, who was his

messenger, “Go, speak to Æneas these words: ‘Thus saith the King of

gods and men. Is this what thy mother promised of thee, twice saving

thee from the spear of the Greeks? Art thou he that shall rule Italy

and its mighty men of war, and spread thy dominion to the ends of the

world? If thou thyself forgettest these things, dost thou grudge to thy

son the citadels of Rome? What dost thou here? Why lookest thou not to

Italy? Depart and tarry not.’”

Then Mercury fitted the winged sandals to his feet, and took the wand

with which he driveth the spirits of the dead, and came right soon to

Mount Atlas, which standeth bearing the heaven on his head, and having

always clouds about his top, and snow upon his shoulders, and a beard

that is stiff with ice. There Mercury stood awhile; then, as a bird

which seeks its prey in the sea, shot headlong down, and came to Æneas

where he stood, with a yellow jasper in his sword-hilt, and a cloak of

purple shot with gold about his shoulders, and spake: “Buildest thou

Carthage, forgetting thine own work? The almighty Father saith to thee,

‘What meanest thou? Why tarriest thou here? If thou carest not for

thyself, yet think of thy son, and that the Fates have given to him

Italy and Rome.’”

And Æneas saw him no more. And he stood stricken with fear and doubt.

Fain would he obey the voice, and go as the gods commanded. But how

should he tell this purpose to the Queen? But at the last it seemed

good to him to call certain of the chiefs, as Mnestheus, and Sergestus,

and Antheus, and bid them make ready the ships in silence, and gather

together the people, but dissemble the cause, and he himself would

watch a fitting time to speak and unfold the matter to the Queen.

Yet was not Dido deceived, for love is keen of sight. Rumor also told

her that they made ready the ships for sailing. Then, flying through

the city, even as one on whom has come the frenzy of Bacchus flies by

night over Mount Cithæron, she came upon Æneas, and spake: “Thoughtest

thou to hide thy crime, and to depart in silence from this land? Carest

thou not for her whom thou leavest to die? And hast thou no fear of

winter storms that vex the sea? By all that I have done for thee and

given thee, if there be yet any place for repentance, repent thee

of this purpose. For thy sake I suffer the wrath of the princes of

Libya and of my own people; and if thou leavest me, for what should

I live?--till my brother overthrow my city, or Iarbas carry me away

captive? If I had but a little Æneas to play in my halls I should not

seem so altogether desolate.”

But Æneas, fearing the words of Jupiter, stood with eyes that relented

not. At the last he spake: “I deny not, O Queen, the benefits that

thou hast done unto me, nor ever, while I live, shall I forget Dido.

I sought not to fly by stealth; yet did I never promise that I would

abide in this place. Could I have chosen according to my will, I had

built again the city of Troy where it stood; but the gods command that

I should seek Italy. Thou hast thy Carthage: why dost thou grudge

Italy to us? Nor may I tarry. Night after night have I seen my father

Anchises warning me in dreams. Also even now the messenger of Jupiter

came to me--with these ears I heard him--and bade me depart.”

Then, in great wrath, with eyes askance, did Dido break forth upon him:

“Surely no goddess was thy mother, nor art thou come of the race of

Dardanus. The rocks of Caucasus brought thee forth, and an Hyrcanian

tigress gave thee suck. For why should I dissemble? Was he moved at

all my tears? Did he pity my love? Nay, the very gods are against me.

This man I took to myself when he was shipwrecked and ready to perish.

I brought back his ships, his companions from destruction. And now

forsooth comes the messenger of Jupiter with dreadful commands from the

gods. As for thee, I keep thee not. Go, seek thy Italy across the seas:

only, if there is any vengeance in heaven, thou wilt pay the penalty

for this wrong, being wrecked on some rock in their midst. Then wilt

thou call on Dido in vain. Aye, and wherever thou shalt go I will haunt

thee, and rejoice in the dwellings below to hear thy doom.”

Then she turned, and hasted to go into the house. But her spirit left

her, so that her maidens bear her to her chamber and laid her on her

bed.

Then Æneas, though he was much troubled in his heart, and would fain

have comforted the Queen, was obedient to the heavenly word, and

departed to his ships. And the men of Troy busied themselves in making

them ready for the voyage. Even as the ants spoil a great heap of corn

and store it in their dwellings against winter, moving in a black line

across the field, and some carry the great grains, and some chide those

that linger, even so did the Trojans swarm along the ways and labor at

the work.

But when Dido saw it, she called to Anna, her sister, and said, “Seest

thou how they hasten the work along the shore? Even now the sails are

ready for the winds, and the sailors have wreathed the ships with

garlands, as if for departure. Go thou--the deceiver always trusted

thee, and thou knowest how best to move him--go and entreat him. I

harmed not him nor his people; let him then grant me this only. Let

him wait for a fairer time for his journey. I ask not that he give up

his purpose; only that he grant me a short breathing space, till I may

learn how to bear this sorrow.”

And Anna hearkened to her sister, and took the message to Æneas, yet

profited nothing, for the gods shut his ears that he should not hear.

Even as an oak stands firm when the north wind would root it up from

the earth--its leaves are scattered all around, yet doth it remain

firm, for its roots go down to the regions below, even as far as its

branches reach to heaven--so stood Æneas firm, and, though he wept many

tears, changed not his purpose.

Then did Dido grow weary of her life. For when she did sacrifice,

the pure water would grow black and the wine be changed into blood.

Also from the shrine of her husband, which was in the midst of her

palace, was heard a voice calling her, and the owl cried aloud from

the house-top. And in her dreams the cruel Æneas seemed to drive her

before him; or she seemed to be going a long way with none to bear

her company, and be seeking her own people in a land that was desert.

Therefore, hiding the thing that was in her heart, she spake to her

sister, saying, “I have found a way, my sister, that shall bring him

back to me or set me free from him. Near the shore of the Great Sea,

where the Æthiopians dwell, is a priestess, who guards the temple of

the daughters of Hesperus, being wont to feed the dragons that kept the

apples of gold. She is able by her charms to loose the heart from care

or to bind it, and to stay rivers also, and to turn the courses of the

stars, and to call up the spirits of the dead. Do thou, therefore--for

this is what the priestess commands--build a pile in the open court,

and put thereon the sword which he left hanging in our chamber, and the

garments he wore, and the couch on which he lay, even all that was his,

so that they may perish together.”

And when these things were done--for Anna knew not of her purpose--and

also an image of Æneas was laid upon the pile, the priestess, with her

hair unbound, called upon all the gods that dwell below, sprinkling

thereon water that was drawn, she said, from the lake of Avernus, and

scattering evil herbs that had been cut at the full moon with a sickle

of bronze. Dido also, with one foot bare and her garments loosened,

threw meal upon the fire, and called upon the gods, if haply there be

any, that look upon those that love and suffer wrong.

In the meantime Æneas lay asleep in the hind part of his ship, when

there appeared to him in a dream the god Mercury, even as he had seen

him when he brought the commandment of Jupiter. And Mercury spake,

saying, “Son of Venus, canst thou sleep? seest thou not what perils

surround thee, nor hearest how the favorable west wind calls? The Queen

purposes evil against thee. If thou lingerest till the morning come

thou wilt see the shore covered with them that wish thee harm. Fly,

then, and tarry not; for a woman is ever of many minds.”

Then did Æneas in great fear start from his sleep, and call his

companions, saying, “Wake, and sit on the benches, and loose the sails.

’Tis a god thus bids us fly.” And even as he spake he cut the cable

with his sword. And all hasted to follow him, and sped over the sea.

And now it was morning, and Queen Dido, from her watch-tower, saw the

ships upon the sea. Then she smote upon her breast and tore her hair,

and cried, “Shall this stranger mock us thus? Hasten to follow him.

Bring down the ships from the docks, make ready sword and fire. And

this was the man who bare upon his shoulders his aged father! Why did

I not tear him to pieces, and slay his companions with the sword, and

serve up the young Ascanius at his meal? And if I had perished, what

then? for I die to-day. O Sun, that regardest all the earth, and Juno,

that carest for marriage bonds, and Hecate, Queen of the dead, and ye

Furies that take vengeance on evil-doers, hear me. If it be ordered

that he reach this land, yet grant that he suffer many things from his

enemies, and be driven from his city, and beg for help from strangers,

and see his people cruelly slain with the sword; and, when he shall

have made peace on ill conditions, that he enjoy not long his kingdom,

but die before his day, and lie unburied on the plain. And ye, men of

Tyre, hate his children and his people for ever. Let there be no love

or peace between you. And may some avenger arise from my grave who

shall persecute the race of Dardanus with fire and sword. So shall

there be war for ever between him and me.”

Then she spake to old Barcé, who had been nurse to her husband Sichæus.

“Bid my sister bathe herself in water, and bring with her beasts for

sacrifice. And do thou also put a garland about thy head, for I am

minded to finish this sacrifice which I have begun, and to burn the

image of the man of Troy.”

And when the old woman made haste to do her bidding, Queen Dido ran

to the court where the pile was made for the burning, and mounted on

the pile, and drew the sword of Æneas from the scabbard. Then did she

throw herself upon the bed, and cry, “Now do I yield up my life. I

have finished my course. I have built a mighty city. I have avenged my

husband on him that slew him. Happy had I been, yea too happy! had the

ships of Troy never come to this land.” Then she kissed the bed and

cried, “Shall I die unavenged? Nevertheless let me die. The man of Troy

shall see this fire from the sea whereon he journeys, and carry with

him an augury of death.”

And when her maidens looked, lo! she had fallen upon the sword, and the

blood was upon her hands. And a great cry went up through the palace,

exceeding loud and bitter, even as if the enemy had taken Carthage or

ancient Tyre, and the fire were mounting over the dwellings of men and

of gods. And Anna her sister heard it, and rushing through the midst

called her by her name, “O my sister, was this thy purpose? Were the

pile and the sword and the fire for this? Why wouldst thou not suffer

that I should die with thee? For surely, my sister, thou hast slain

thyself, and me, and thy people, and thy city. But give me water, ye

maidens, that I may wash her wounds, and if there be any breath left in

her, we may yet stay it.”

Then she climbed on to the pile, and caught her sister in her arms, and

sought to staunch the blood with her garments. Three times did Dido

strive to raise her eyes; three times did her spirit leave her. Three

times she would have raised herself upon her elbow; three times she

fell back upon the bed, looking with wandering eyes for the light, and

groaning that she yet beheld it.

Then Juno, looking down from heaven, saw that her pain was long, and

pitied her, and sent down Iris, her messenger, that she might loose

the soul that struggled to be free. For, seeing that she died not by

nature, nor yet by the hand of man, but before her time and of her own

madness, Queen Proserpine had not shred the ringlet from her head which

she shreds from them that die. Wherefore Iris, flying down with dewy

wings from heaven, with a thousand colors about her from the light of

the sun, stood above her head and said, “I will give thee to death,

even as I am bidden, and loose thee from thy body.” Then she shred the

lock, and Queen Dido gave up the ghost.

CHAPTER III.

From Carthage Æneas journeyed to Sicily, for the wind hindered him from

coming to Italy as he would fain have done. And in Sicily he held great

games in honor of his father Anchises. And when these were finished

he departed to Italy, leaving behind him all that were weak and

faint-hearted.

The place whereunto he came was nigh unto Cumæ, which was the

dwelling-place of the Sibyl. And the men turned the forepart of the

ships to the sea, and made them fast with anchors. Then they leapt

forth upon the shore, and kindled a fire; and some cut wood in the

forest, or fetched water from the stream. But Æneas went up to the

great cave of the Sibyl, where, by the inspiration of Apollo, she

foretelleth things to come.

Now the temple was a marvellous place to look upon. For Dædalus,

when he fled from Minos, King of Crete, flying through the air upon

wings, came northwards to the land of Cumæ, and tarried there. Also he

dedicated his wings in the temple. On the doors thereof was set forth,

graven in stone, the death of Androgeos, and the men of Attica choosing

by lot seven of their children who should be given as a ransom yearly;

and, rising from the sea upon the other side, the land of Crete.

Likewise the Labyrinth was there and its winding ways; but Icarus they

saw not, for when his father would have wrought the manner of his death

in gold his hands failed him: twice he strove and twice they failed.

And when Æneas would have looked further, the priestess said, “Linger

not with these things, but slay forthwith seven bullocks from the herd,

and seven sheep duly chosen out of the flock.” And when they came to

the cave--now there are a hundred doors, and a voice cometh forth from

each--the Sibyl cried, “It is time. Lo! the god, the god!” And even

as she spake her look was changed and the color of her face; also her

hair was loosened, and her breast panted, and she waxed greater than is

the stature of a man. Then she cried, “Delayest thou to pray, Æneas of

Troy? delayest thou? for the doors open not but to prayer.” Nor said

she more. Then Æneas prayed, saying, “O Phœbus, who didst always pity

the sorrows of Troy, and didst guide the arrow of Paris that it slew

the great Achilles, I have followed thy bidding, journeying over many

lands, and now I lay hold on this shore of Italy, which ever seemed to

fly before me. Grant thou that our ill fortune follow us no more. And

all ye gods and goddesses who loved not Troy, be merciful to us. And

thou, O Prophetess, give, if it may be, such answer as I would hear.

So will I and my people honor thee for ever. And write it not, I pray

thee, upon leaves, lest the winds carry them away, but speak with thy

voice.”

And for awhile the prophetess strove against the spirit; but at the

last it mastered her, and the doors flew open, and she spake, saying,

“The perils of the sea thou hast escaped, but there await thee yet

worse perils upon the land. The men of Troy shall come to the kingdom

of Lavinium. Fear not for that; yet will they fain not have come. I

see battles, and the Tiber foaming with blood, and a new Xanthus and

Simoïs, and another Achilles, himself also goddess-born. Juno also

shall be ever against thee. And thou shalt be a suppliant to many

cities. And the cause of all these woes shall be again a woman. Only

yield not thou, but go ever more boldly when occasion shall serve.

Little thinkest thou that thy first succor shall be from a city of the

Greeks.”

And when she had ended these words, Æneas made answer: “O Lady, no toil

or peril shall take me unawares; for I have thought over all things

in my heart. But one thing I ask of thee. Here is the door of the

dwellings of the dead. Fain would I pass thereby, that I may visit my

father. I carried him on my shoulders out of the fires of Troy, and

with me he endured many things by land and sea, more than befitted his

old age. Likewise he bade me ask this boon of thee. Do thou therefore

pity both father and son, for thou hast the power, if only thou wilt.

Did not Orpheus bring back his wife from the dead, having his harp

only? Also Pollux goeth many times this same path, redeeming his

brother from death. And why should I tell of Theseus and Hercules? And

I also am of the lineage of Jupiter.”

Then the Sibyl spake, saying, “Son of Anchises, it is easy to go down

to hell. The door is open day and night. But to return, and struggle

to the upper air, that is the labor. Few only have done it, and these

of the lineage of the gods and dear to Jupiter. Yet if thou wilt

attempt it, hearken unto me. There lieth hid in the forest a bough of

gold which is sacred to the Queen of hell. Nor may any man go on this

journey till he have plucked it, for the Queen will have it as a gift

for herself. And when the bough is plucked, there ever groweth another;

and if it be the pleasure of the gods that thou go, it will yield to

thy hand. But know that one of thy companions lieth dead upon the

shore. First must thou bury him, and after offer due sacrifice, even

black sheep. So shalt thou approach the dwellings of the dead.”

Then Æneas departed from the cave, and Achates went with him, and much

they wondered who it might be that was dead. And when they came to the

shore, lo! Misenus lay there, than whom no man was more skilful to

call men to battle with the voice of the trumpet. Hector’s companion

he had been in old time, and then followed Æneas. And now, blowing his

trumpet on the shore, he had challenged the gods of the sea to compare

with him; wherefore a Triton caught him and plunged him into the sea,

so that he died. Then did Æneas and his companions prepare for the

burial, cutting ilex and oak and mountain-ash from the wood. But when

Æneas beheld the forest, how vast it was, he said, “Now may the gods

grant that in this great forest the bough of gold discover itself.”

And as he spake, lo! two doves flew before his face, and settled on

the grass, and he knew them to be the birds of his mother, and cried,

saying, “Guide me now to the bough of gold, and thou, my mother, help

me as before.” Then the birds flew so that he could still see them with

his eyes, and he followed after them. But when they came to the mouth

of Avernus, they sat both of them on a tree. And lo! the bough of gold

glittered among the branches and rustled in the wind. Right gladly did

Æneas break it off, and carry it to the dwelling of the Sibyl.

In the meantime the men of Troy made a great burial for Misenus on the

shore, building a pile of wood, and washing and anointing the body.

Also they laid the body on a bier, and on it the garments which he had

worn being yet alive. Then others, with faces turned away, held a torch

to the wood, whereon also were burned incense and offerings of oil.

And when the burning was ended they quenched the ashes with wine. And

Corynæus gathered the bones into an urn of bronze, and purified the

people, sprinkling them with water with a bough of an olive-tree. Then

Æneas made a great mound, and put thereon the trumpet of the man and

his bow; and the mountain is called Misenus, after him, to this day.

But when the burial was ended he did as the Sibyl had commanded. A

great cavern there is, from which cometh so evil a stench that no bird

may fly across. There they brought four black oxen, and the priestess

poured wine upon their heads and cut hairs from between the horns.

And when they had burned these they slew the oxen, holding dishes for

the blood. And Æneas offered a black lamb to the Furies and a barren

heifer to the Queen of hell, smiting them with his sword. Then they

burned the entrails with fire, pouring oil upon them. Then did the

ground give a hollow sound beneath them, and the dogs howled, for the

goddess was at hand. And the priestess cried, “Go ye who may not take

part in this matter. And thou, Æneas, draw thy sword from its sheath

and follow. Now hast thou need of all thy strength and courage.” Then

she plunged into the cave, and Æneas went with her.

So they went together through the land of shadows, like unto men who

walk through a wood in a doubtful light, when the moon indeed hath

risen, but there are clouds over the sky. And first they came to where,

in front of the gates of hell, dwell Sorrow and Remorse, and pale

Disease and Fear, and Hunger that tempteth men to sin, and Want, and

Death, and Toil, and Slumber, that is Death’s kinsman, and deadly War;

also they saw the chamber of the Furies, and Discord, whose hair is of

snakes that drip with blood. And in this region there is an ancient

elm, in the boughs whereof dwell all manner of dreams, and shapes of

evil monsters, as many as have been, such as were the Centaurs, half

man half horse, and Briareus with the hundred hands, and others also.

These Æneas, when he saw them, sought to slay, rushing upon them with

the sword, but his guide warned him that they were shadows only.

After this they came to the river of hell, whereon plies the Boatman

Charon. A long white beard hath he and unkempt; and his eyes are fixed

in a fiery stare, and a scarf is knotted upon his shoulder, as is a

pilot’s wont. An old man he seemeth to be, but hale and ruddy. Now

there was ever rushing to the bank a great crowd, wives and mothers,

and valiant men of war, boys, and girls dead before they were given in

marriage, and young men laid on the funeral pile before their parents’

eyes. Thick they were as the leaves that fall to the earth at the

first frost of autumn, or as the swallows, when they gather themselves

together, making ready to fly across the sea to the lands of the sun.

And of these Charon would take some into his boat; but others he would

forbid, and drive from the shore. This when Æneas saw, he marvelled,

and said, “O Lady, what meaneth this concourse at the river? What seek

these souls? Why be some driven from the bank and some ferried across?”

And the Sibyl made answer: “This river that thou seest is the Styx, by

which the gods in heaven swear, and fear to break their oath. Those

whom thou seest to be driven from the bank are such as have lacked

burial, but those who are ferried across have been buried duly; for

none pass this stream till their bodies have been laid in the grave,

otherwise they wander for a hundred years, and so at last may cross

over.”

Much did Æneas pity their ill fortune, and the more when he beheld

Orontes and his Lycians, whom the sea had swallowed up alive before his

eyes. Here likewise there met him his pilot Palinurus, to whom, when

he knew him, for indeed he scarce could see him in the darkness, he

said, “What god took thee from us and drowned thee in the sea? Surely,

in this one matter, Apollo hath deceived me, saying that thou shouldst

escape the sea and come to the land of Italy.”

Then answered Palinurus, “Not so, great Æneas. For indeed to the land

of Italy I came. Three nights the south wind carried me over the sea,

and on the fourth day I saw the land of Italy from the top of a wave.

And when I swam to the shore, and was now clinging to the rocks, my

garments being heavy with water, the savage people came upon me, and

took me for a prey, and slew me. And now the winds and waves bear me

about as they will. Wherefore I pray thee, by thy father, and Iülus,

the hope of thy house, that thou deliver me from these woes. Go,

therefore, I beseech thee, to the haven of Velia, and cast earth upon

me for burial; or give me now thy hand, and take me with thee across

this river.”

Then said the priestess, “O Palinurus, what madness is this? Wilt thou

without due burial cross the river, and look upon the awful faces of

the Furies? Think not that the Fates can be changed by prayers. Yet

hear this, and be comforted. They that slew thee, being sore troubled

by many plagues, shall make due expiation to thee, and build a tomb,

and make offerings thereon year by year; and the place where they slew

thee shall be called after thy name.”