sees,

To hasten on the death her soul decrees-
Strange to relate! for when before the shrine
She pours in sacrifice the purple wine,
The purple wine is turn'd to putrid blood;
And the white offer'd milk converts to mud
This dire presage, to her alone reveal'd,
From all, and e'en her sister, she conceal'd.
A marble temple stood within the grove,
Sacred to death, and to her murder'd love;
That honour'd chapel she had hung around
With snowy fleeces, and with garlands crown'd:
Oft, when she visited this lonely come,
Strange voices issued from her husband's tomb :
She thought she heard him summon her away,
Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay.
Hourly 't is heard, when with a boding note
The solitary screech-owl strains her throat,
And, on a chimney's top or turret's height,
With songs obscene disturbs the silence of the
night.

Besides, old prophecies augment her fears;
And stern Æneas in her dreams appears,
Disdainful as by day: she seems alone,
To wander in her sleep, through ways unknown,
Guideless and dark; or, in a desert plain,
To seek her subjects, and to seek in vain-
Like Pentheus, when distracted with his fear,
He saw two suns and double Thebes appear;
Or mad Orestus, when his mother's ghost
Full in his face infernal torches toss'd,
And shook her snaky locks: he shuns the sight,
Flies o'er the stage, surpris'd with mortal fright;
The furies guard the door, and intercept his
flight.

Now, sinking underneath a load of grief,

From death alone she seeks her last relief:
The time and means resolv'd within her breast,
She to her mournful sister thus address'd:
(Dissemoling hope, her cloudy front she clears,
And a faise vigour in her eyes appears.)
"Rejoice!” she said, " instructed from above,
My lover I shall gain, or lose my love.
Nigh rising Atlas, next the falling sun,
Long tracts of Ethiopian climates run:
There a Massylian priestess I have found,
Honour'd for age, for magic arts renown'd:
Th' Hesperian temple was her trusted care;
'T was she supplied the wakeful dragon's fare.
She poppy-seeds in honey taught to steep,
Reclaim'd his rage, and sooth'd him into sleep:
She watch'd the golden fruit. Her charms un-

bind

The chains of love, or fix them on the mind: She stops the torrents, leaves the channel dry,

Repels the stars, and backward bears the sky.

Pale ghosts ascend; and mountain ashes fall.
Witness, ye gods, and thou my better part,
How loath I am to try this impious art!
Within the secret court, with silent care,
Erect a lofty pile, expos'd in air;
Hang, on the topmost part, the Trojan vest,
Spoils, arms, and presents, of my faithless guest.
Next, under these, the bridal bed be plac'd,
Where I my ruin in his arms embrac'd.
All relics of the wretch are doom'd to fire;
For so the priestess and her charms require."
Thus far she said, and further speech forbears.
A mortal palenses in her face appears
Yet the mistrusuess Anna could not find
The secret fun': al in these rites design'd;
Nor thought so dire a rage possess'd her mind.
Unknowing of a train conceal'd so well,
She fear'd no worse than when Sichæus fell
Therefore obeys. The fatal pile they rear,
Within the secret court, expos'd in air.
The cloven holms and pines are heap'd on high,
And garlands on the hollow spaces lie."
Sad cypress, vervain, yew, compose the wreath;
And ev'ry baleful green denoting death.
The queen, determin'd to the fatal deed,
The spoils and sword he left, in order spread
And the man's image on the nuptial bed.
And now (the sacred altars plac'd around
The priestess enters with her hair unbound,
And thrice invokes the pow'rs below the ground.
Night, Erebus, and Chaos, she proclaims,
And threefold Hecat with her hundred names,
And three Dianas: next she sprinkles round,
With feign'd Avernian drops, the hallow'd
ground;

Culls hoary simples, found by Phœbe's light,
With brazen sickles reap'd at noon of night;
Then mixes baleful juices in the bowl,
And cuts the forehead of a new-born foal,
Robbing the mother's love. The destin'd queen
Observes, assisting at the rites obscene:
A leaven'd cake in her devoted hands
She holds; and next the highest altar stands:
One tender foot was shod, her other bare;
Girt was her gather'd gown, and loose her hair.
Thus dress'd, she summon'd, with her dying
breath,

The heavens and planets, conscious of her death,
And ev'ry pow'r, if any rules above,
Who minds or who revenges injur'd love.

"Twas dead of night, when weary bodies close Their eyes in balmy sleep, and soft repose: The winds no longer whisper through the woods, Nor murin'ring tides disturb the gentle floods. The stars in silent order mov'd around; And Peace, with downy wings, was brooding on the ground.

The flocks and herds, and partycolour'd fowl
Which haunt the woods or swim the weedy pool,
Stretch'd on the quiet earth, securely lay,
Forgetting the past labours of the day.
All else of nature's common gift partake;
Unhappy Dido was alone awake.

Nor sleep nor ease the furious queen can find:
Sleep fled her eyes, as quiet fled her mind.
Despair, and rage, and love, divide her heart;
Despair and rage had some, but love the greater
part.

Then thus she said within her secret mind:
"What shall I do? what succour can I find?
Become a suppliant to Iarbas' pride,
And take my turn to court and be denied?
Shall I with this ungrateful Trojan go,
Forsake an empire, and attend a foe?
Himself I refug'd, and his train reliev'd-
"T is true-but am I sure to be receiv'd
Can gratitude in Trojan souls have place?
Laomedon still lives in all his race!
Then, shall I seek alone the churlish crew,
Or with my fleet, their flying sails pursue?
What force have I but those, who scarce before
I drew reluctant from their native shore?
Will they again embark at my desire,
Once more sustain the seas, and quit their se-
cond Tyre?

Rather with steel thy guilty breast invade,
And take the fortune thou thyself hast made.
Your pity, sister, first seduc'd my mind,
Or seconded too well what I design'd.
These dear-bought pleasures had I never
known,

Had I continued free, and still my own-
Avoiding love, I had not found despair,
But shar'd with savage beasts the common air.
Like them, a lonely life I might have led,
Not mourn'd the living, nor disturb'd the dead."
These thoughts she brooded in her anxious
breast.-

On board, the Trojan found more easy rest.
Resolv'd to sail, in sleep he pass'd the night;
And order'd all things for his early flight.
To whom once more the winged god appears
His former youthful mien and shape he wears,
And with this new alarm invades his ears:
"Sleep'st thou, O goddess-born? and canst
thou drown

Thy needful cares, so near a hostile town,
Beset with foes; nor hear'st the western gales
Invite thy passage, and inspire thy sails?
She harbours in her heart a furious hate,
(And thou shalt find the dire effects too late,)
Fix'd on revenge, and obstinate to die.
Haste swiftly hence, while thou hast pow'r to
The sea with ships will soon be cover'd o'er,
And blazing firebrands kindle all the shore.

[fly.

Prevent her rage, while night obscures the skies;

And sail before the purple morn arise.
Who knows what hazards thy delay may bring?
Woman's a various and a changeful thing."
Thus Hermes in the dream; then took his flight,
Aloft in air unseen, and mix'd in night.

Twice warn'd by the celestial messenger, The pious prince arose with hasty fear; Then rous'd his drowsy train without delay: "Haste to your banks, your crooked anchors weigh,

And spreads your flying sails, and stand to sea!
A god commands: he stood before my sight,
And urg'd us once again to speedy flight.
O sacred pow'r! what pow'r soe'er thou art,
To thy blest orders I resign my heart.
Lead thou the way; protect thy Trojan bands
And prosper the design thy will commands."
He said; and, drawing forth his flaming sword,
His thund'ring arm divides the many-twisted
cord.

An emulating zeal inspires his train:

They run; they snatch; they rush into the main. [shores, With headlong haste they leave the desert And brush the liquid seas with lab'ring oars.

Aurora now had left her saffron bed, And beams of early light the heav'ns o'erspread, When from a tow'r, the queen, with wakeful

eyes,

Saw day point upward from the rosy skies.
She look'd to seaward: but the sea was void,
And scarce in ken the sailing ships descried.
Stung with despite, and furious with despair,
She struck her trembling breast, and tore her
hair.

'And shall th' ungrateful traitor go, (she said,) My land forsaken, and my love betray'd? Shall we not arm? not rush from ev'ry street? To follow, sink, and burn his perjur'd fleet? Haste! haul my galleys out! pursue the foe! Bring flaming brands! set sail, and swiftly row! What have I said! where am I? Fury turns My brain; and my distemper'd bosom burns; Then, when I gave my person and my throne This hate, this rage, had been more timely shown.

See now the promis'd faith, the vaunted name, The pious man, who rushing through the me Preserv'd his gods, and to the Phrygian shore The burden of his feeble father bore!

I should have torn him piece-meal-strow'd in floods

His scatter'd limbs, or left expos'd in woodsDestroy'd his friends and son-and from the

fire

Have sent the reeking boy before the sire.

And, calling . Eliza's name aloud, Runs breathless to the place, and breaks the crowd.

"Was all that pomp of wo for this prepar'd, These fires, this fun'ral pile, these altars rear'd? Was all this train of plots contriv'd, (said she,) All only to deceive unhappy me?

Which is the worst? Didst thou in death pretend

To scorn thy sister, or delude thy friend?

Thy summon'd sister and thy friend had come: One sword had serv'd us both, one common tomb:

Was I to raise the pile, the pow'rs invoke,
Not to be present at the fatal stroke?
At once thou hast destroy'd thyself and me,
Thy town, thy senate, and thy colony!
Bring water! bathe the wound; while I in death
Lay close my lips to hers, and catch the flying
breath."

This said, she mounts the pile with eager haste,
And in her arms the gasping queen embrac'd,
Her temples chaf'd; and her own garments tore,
To stanch the streaming blood and cleanse the
gore.

Thrice Dido tried to raise her drooping head,
And, fainting, thrice fell grov'ling on the bed;
Thrice op'd her heavy eyes, and saw the light,
But, having found it, sicken'd at the sight,
And clos'd her lids at last in endless night.
Then Juno, grieving that she should sustain
A death so ling'ring, and so full of pain,
Sent Iris down, to free her from the strife
Of lab'ring nature, and dissolve her life.

to celebrate the memory of his father with divine honours,and accordingly institutes funeral games, and appoints prizes for those who should conquer in them While the ceremonies are performing, Juno sends Iris to persuade the Trojan women to burn the ships, who, upon her instigation, set fire to them which burned four, and would have consumed the rest, had not Jupiter, by a miraculous shower, extinguished it. Upon this, Æneas, by the advice of one of his generals, and a vision of his father, builds a city for the women, old men, and others, who were either unfit for war, or weary of the voyage, and sails for Italy. Venus procures of Neptune a safe voyage for him and all his men, excepting only his pilot Palinurus, who was unfortunately lost.

MEANTIME the Trojan cuts the wat❜ry way
Fix'd on his voyage through the curling sea;
Then casting back his eyes, with dire amaze,
Sees on the Punic shore the mounting blaze.
The cause unknown; yet his presaging mind
The fate of Dido from the fire divin'd.
He knew the stormy souls of woman-kind;
What secret springs their eager passions move,
How capable of death for injur'd love.
Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw;
Till neither fires nor shining shores they saw,
Now seas and skies their prospect only bound-
An empty space above, a floating field around.
But soon the heav'ns with shadows were o'er-
spread;

A swelling cloud hung hov'ring o'er their head;
Livid it look'd-the threatning of a storm
Then night and horror ocean's face deform.
The pilot, Palinurus, cried aloud,

"What gusts of weather from that gath'ring cloud

cree,

Or her own crime, but human casualty,
And rage of love, that plung'd her in despair,
The sisters had not cut the topmost hair,
Which Proserpine and they can only know;
Nor made her sacred to the shades below.
Downward the various goddess took her flight,
And drew a thousand colours from the light;
Then stood above the dying lover's head,
And said, "I thus devote thee to the dead:
This off'ring to the infernal gods I bear."
Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal hair:
The struggling soul was loos'd, and life dissolv'd
in air.

BOOK V.

ARGUMENT.

Eneas, setting sail from Africa, is driven by a storm on the coast of Sicily, where he is hospitably receiv. ed, by his friend Acestes king of part of the island,

Contract your swelling sails, and luff to wind."
The frighted crew perfom the task assign'd.
Then, to his fearless chief, Not heav'n (said he)
Though Jove himself should promise Italy,
Can stem the torrent of this raging sea.
Mark, how the shifting winds from west arise,
And what collected night involves the skies'
Nor can our shaken vessels live at sea,
Much less against the tempest force their way.
T is Fate diverts our course: and Fate we
must obey.

Not far from hence, if I observ'd aright
The southing of the stars, and polar light
Sicilia lies, whose hospitable shores

In safety we may reach with struggling oars."
Eneas then replied: "Too soon I find
We strive in vain against the seas and wind:
Now shift your sails: what place can please me

more

Mnestheus pursues; and, while around they wind,

Comes up not half his galley's length behind; Then on the deck, amidst his mates, appear'd, And thus their drooping courages he cheer'd; "My friends, and Hector's followers heretofore, Exert your vigour; tug the lab'ring oar; Stretch to your strokes, my still unconquer'd

crew,

Whom from the flaming walls of Troy I drew.
In this our common int'rest, let me find
That strength of hand, that courage of the mind,
As when you stemin'd the strong Malean flood,
And o'er the Syrtes' broken billows row'd.
I seek not now the foremost palm to gain;
Though yet-but, ah! that haughty wish is
vain!

Let those enjoy it whom the gods ordain.
But to be last, the lags of all the race!—
Redeem yourselves and me from that disgrace."
Now, one and all, they tug amain; they row
At the full stretch, and shake the brazen prow.
The sea beneath them sinks; their lab'ring sides
Are swell'd, and sweat runs gutt'ring down in
tides.
[cess:

Chance aids their daring, with unhop'd suc-
Sergestus, eager with his beak to press
Betwixt the rival galley and the rock,
Shuts up the unwieldy Centaur in the lock,
The vessel struck; and, with the dreadful shock
Her oars she shiver'd and her head she broke.
The trembling rowers from their banks arise,
And anxious for themselves, renounce the prize.
With iron poles they heave her off the shores,
And gather from the sea the floating oars.
The crew of Mnestheus, with elated minds,
Urge their success, and call the willing winds;
Then ply their oars, and cut their liquid way
In larger compass on the roomy sea.
As when the dove her rocky hold forsakes,
Rous'd in a fright, her sounding wings she
shakes;

The cavern rings with clatt'ring; out she flies,
And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the

skies:

At first she flutters, but at length she springs
To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings:
So Mnestheus in the Dolphin cuts the sea;
And flying with a force, that force assists his
way.

Sergestus in the Centaur soon he pass'd,
Wedg'd in the rocky shoals, and sticking fast.
In vain the victor he with cries implores,
And practises to row with shatter'd oars.
Then Mnestheus bears with Gyas, and outflies;
The ship, without a pilot, yields the prize.
Unvanquish'd Scylla now alone remains :-
Her he persues; and all his vigour strains.

Shouts from the fav'ring multitude arise;
Applauding Echo to the shouts replies;
Shouts, wishes, and applause, run rattling
through the skies.

These clamours with disdain the Scylla heard, Much grudg'd the praise, but more the robb'd reward:

Resolv'd to hold their own, they mend their pace,
All obstinate to die, or gain the race.
Rais'd with success, the Dolphin swiftly ran-
For they can conquer who believe they can.-
Both urge their oars; and Fortune both supplies.
(And both perhaps had shar'd an equal prize ;)
When to the seas Cloanthus holds his hands,
And succour from the wat'ry pow'rs demands:
"Gods of the liquid realms on which I row!
If, giv'n by you, the laurel bind my brow,
(Assist to make me guilty of my vow!)
A snow-white bull shall on your shore be slain:
His offer'd entrails cast into the main,
And ruddy wine from golden goblets thrown,
Your grateful gift, and my return shall own.”
The choir of nymphs, and Phorcus from below,
With virgin Panopea, heard his vow;
And old Portunus with his breadth of hand,
Push'd on and sped the galley to the land.
Swift as a shaft, or winged wind, she flies,
And, darting to the port, obtains the prize.

The herald summons all, and then proclaims
Cloanthus conqueror of the naval games.
The prince with laurel crowns the victor's head;
And three fat steers are to his vessel led—
The ship's reward-with gen'rous wine beside,
And sums of silver, which the crew divide.
The leaders are distinguish'd from the rest;
The victor honour'd with a nobler vest,
Where gold and purple strive in equal rows,
And needlework its happy cost bestows.
There, Ganymede is wrought with living art,
Chasing through Ida's groves the trembling
hart:

Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue :
When from aloft descends, in open view,
The bird of Jove, and sousing on his prey,
With crooked talons bears the boy away.
In vain, with lifted hands and gazing eyes,
His guards behold him soaring through the skies,
And dogs pursue his flight, with imitated cries.

Mnestheus the second victor was declar'd And, summon'd there, the second prize he shar'd

A coat of mail, which brave Demoleus bore,
More brave Eneas from his shoulders tore,
In single combat on the Trojan shore;
This was ordain'd for Mnestheus to possess-
In war for his defence, for ornament in peace.
Rich was the gift, and glorious to behold,
And yet so pond'rous with its plates of gold,