I have a daughter whom the oracles of my
father's shrine and many a celestial token alike forbid me to unite to
one of our own nation; sons shall come, they prophesy, from foreign
coasts, such is the destiny of Latium, whose blood shall exalt our name
to heaven.
father's shrine and many a celestial token alike forbid me to unite to
one of our own nation; sons shall come, they prophesy, from foreign
coasts, such is the destiny of Latium, whose blood shall exalt our name
to heaven.
Virgil - Aeneid
Further, he presents to thee these small
guerdons of our past estate, relics saved from burning Troy. From this
gold did lord Anchises pour libation at the altars; this was Priam's
array when he delivered statutes to the nations assembled in order; the
sceptre, the sacred mitre, the raiment wrought by the women of
Ilium. . . . '
At these words of Ilioneus Latinus holds his countenance in a steady
gaze, and stays motionless on the floor, casting his intent eyes around.
Nor does the embroidered purple so move the King, nor the sceptre of
Priam, as his daughter's marriage and the bridal chamber absorb him, and
the oracle of ancient Faunus stirs deep in his heart. This is he, the
wanderer from a foreign home, foreshewn of fate for his son, and called
to a realm of equal dominion, whose race should be excellent in valour
and their might overbear all the world. At last he speaks with good
cheer:
'The gods prosper our undertaking and their own augury! What thou
desirest, Trojan, shall be given; nor do I spurn your gifts. While
Latinus reigns you shall not [262-294]lack foison of rich land nor
Troy's own riches. Only let Aeneas himself come hither, if desire of us
be so strong, if he be in haste to join our friendship and be called our
ally. Let him not shrink in terror from a friendly face. A term of the
peace for me shall be to touch your monarch's hand. Do you now convey in
answer my message to your King.
I have a daughter whom the oracles of my
father's shrine and many a celestial token alike forbid me to unite to
one of our own nation; sons shall come, they prophesy, from foreign
coasts, such is the destiny of Latium, whose blood shall exalt our name
to heaven. He it is on whom fate calls; this I think, this I choose, if
there be any truth in my soul's foreshadowing. '
Thus he speaks, and chooses horses for all the company. Three hundred
stood sleek in their high stalls; for all the Teucrians in order he
straightway commands them to be led forth, fleet-footed, covered with
embroidered purple: golden chains hang drooping over their chests,
golden their housings, and they champ on bits of ruddy gold: for the
absent Aeneas a chariot and pair of chariot horses of celestial breed,
with nostrils breathing flame; of the race of those which subtle Circe
bred by sleight on her father, the bastard issue of a stolen union. With
these gifts and words the Aeneadae ride back from Latinus carrying
peace.
And lo! the fierce wife of Jove was returning from Inachian Argos, and
held her way along the air, when out of the distant sky, far as from
Sicilian Pachynus, she espied the rejoicing of Aeneas and the Dardanian
fleet. She sees them already house-building, already trusting in the
land, their ships left empty. She stops, shot with sharp pain; then
shaking her head, she pours forth these words:
'Ah, hated brood, and doom of the Phrygians that thwarts our doom! Could
they perish on the Sigean [295-326]plains? Could they be ensnared when
taken? Did the fires of Troy consume her people? Through the midst of
armies and through the midst of flames they have found their way. But, I
think, my deity lies at last outwearied, or my hatred sleeps and is
satisfied? Nay, it is I who have been fierce to follow them over the
waves when hurled from their country, and on all the seas have crossed
their flight. Against the Teucrians the forces of sky and sea are spent.
guerdons of our past estate, relics saved from burning Troy. From this
gold did lord Anchises pour libation at the altars; this was Priam's
array when he delivered statutes to the nations assembled in order; the
sceptre, the sacred mitre, the raiment wrought by the women of
Ilium. . . . '
At these words of Ilioneus Latinus holds his countenance in a steady
gaze, and stays motionless on the floor, casting his intent eyes around.
Nor does the embroidered purple so move the King, nor the sceptre of
Priam, as his daughter's marriage and the bridal chamber absorb him, and
the oracle of ancient Faunus stirs deep in his heart. This is he, the
wanderer from a foreign home, foreshewn of fate for his son, and called
to a realm of equal dominion, whose race should be excellent in valour
and their might overbear all the world. At last he speaks with good
cheer:
'The gods prosper our undertaking and their own augury! What thou
desirest, Trojan, shall be given; nor do I spurn your gifts. While
Latinus reigns you shall not [262-294]lack foison of rich land nor
Troy's own riches. Only let Aeneas himself come hither, if desire of us
be so strong, if he be in haste to join our friendship and be called our
ally. Let him not shrink in terror from a friendly face. A term of the
peace for me shall be to touch your monarch's hand. Do you now convey in
answer my message to your King.
I have a daughter whom the oracles of my
father's shrine and many a celestial token alike forbid me to unite to
one of our own nation; sons shall come, they prophesy, from foreign
coasts, such is the destiny of Latium, whose blood shall exalt our name
to heaven. He it is on whom fate calls; this I think, this I choose, if
there be any truth in my soul's foreshadowing. '
Thus he speaks, and chooses horses for all the company. Three hundred
stood sleek in their high stalls; for all the Teucrians in order he
straightway commands them to be led forth, fleet-footed, covered with
embroidered purple: golden chains hang drooping over their chests,
golden their housings, and they champ on bits of ruddy gold: for the
absent Aeneas a chariot and pair of chariot horses of celestial breed,
with nostrils breathing flame; of the race of those which subtle Circe
bred by sleight on her father, the bastard issue of a stolen union. With
these gifts and words the Aeneadae ride back from Latinus carrying
peace.
And lo! the fierce wife of Jove was returning from Inachian Argos, and
held her way along the air, when out of the distant sky, far as from
Sicilian Pachynus, she espied the rejoicing of Aeneas and the Dardanian
fleet. She sees them already house-building, already trusting in the
land, their ships left empty. She stops, shot with sharp pain; then
shaking her head, she pours forth these words:
'Ah, hated brood, and doom of the Phrygians that thwarts our doom! Could
they perish on the Sigean [295-326]plains? Could they be ensnared when
taken? Did the fires of Troy consume her people? Through the midst of
armies and through the midst of flames they have found their way. But, I
think, my deity lies at last outwearied, or my hatred sleeps and is
satisfied? Nay, it is I who have been fierce to follow them over the
waves when hurled from their country, and on all the seas have crossed
their flight. Against the Teucrians the forces of sky and sea are spent.
