Even as on Eurotas'
banks or along the Cynthian ridges Diana wheels the dance, while behind
her a thousand mountain nymphs crowd to left and right; she carries
quiver on shoulder, and as she moves outshines them all in deity;
Latona's heart is thrilled with silent joy; such was Dido, so she
joyously advanced amid the throng, urging on the business of her rising
empire.
banks or along the Cynthian ridges Diana wheels the dance, while behind
her a thousand mountain nymphs crowd to left and right; she carries
quiver on shoulder, and as she moves outshines them all in deity;
Latona's heart is thrilled with silent joy; such was Dido, so she
joyously advanced amid the throng, urging on the business of her rising
empire.
Virgil - Aeneid
For while he closely scans the
temple that towers above him, while, awaiting the queen, he admires the
fortunate city, the emulous hands and elaborate work of her craftsmen,
he sees ranged in order the [457-491]battles of Ilium, that war whose
fame was already rumoured through all the world, the sons of Atreus and
Priam, and Achilles whom both found pitiless. He stopped and cried
weeping, 'What land is left, Achates, what tract on earth that is not
full of our agony? Behold Priam! Here too is the meed of honour, here
mortal estate touches the soul to tears. Dismiss thy fears; the fame of
this will somehow bring thee salvation. '
So speaks he, and fills his soul with the painted show, sighing often
the while, and his face wet with a full river of tears. For he saw, how
warring round the Trojan citadel here the Greeks fled, the men of Troy
hard on their rear; here the Phrygians, plumed Achilles in his chariot
pressing their flight. Not far away he knows the snowy canvas of Rhesus'
tents, which, betrayed in their first sleep, the blood-stained son of
Tydeus laid desolate in heaped slaughter, and turns the ruddy steeds
away to the camp ere ever they tasted Trojan fodder or drunk of Xanthus.
Elsewhere Troilus, his armour flung away in flight--luckless boy, no
match for Achilles to meet! --is borne along by his horses, and thrown
back entangled with his empty chariot, still clutching the reins; his
neck and hair are dragged over the ground, and his reversed spear scores
the dust. Meanwhile the Ilian women went with disordered tresses to
unfriendly Pallas' temple, and bore the votive garment, sadly beating
breast with palm: the goddess turning away held her eyes fast on the
ground. Thrice had Achilles whirled Hector round the walls of Troy, and
was selling the lifeless body for gold; then at last he heaves a loud
and heart-deep groan, as the spoils, as the chariot, as the dear body
met his gaze, and Priam outstretching unarmed hands. Himself too he knew
joining battle with the foremost Achaeans, knew the Eastern ranks and
swart Memnon's armour. Penthesilea leads her crescent-shielded Amazonian
columns in furious heat with [492-524]thousands around her; clasping a
golden belt under her naked breast, the warrior maiden clashes boldly
with men.
While these marvels meet Dardanian Aeneas' eyes, while he dizzily hangs
rapt in one long gaze, Dido the queen entered the precinct, beautiful
exceedingly, a youthful train thronging round her.
Even as on Eurotas'
banks or along the Cynthian ridges Diana wheels the dance, while behind
her a thousand mountain nymphs crowd to left and right; she carries
quiver on shoulder, and as she moves outshines them all in deity;
Latona's heart is thrilled with silent joy; such was Dido, so she
joyously advanced amid the throng, urging on the business of her rising
empire. Then in the gates of the goddess, beneath the central vault of
the temple roof, she took her seat girt with arms and high enthroned.
And now she gave justice and laws to her people, and adjusted or
allotted their taskwork in due portion; when suddenly Aeneas sees
advancing with a great crowd about them Antheus and Sergestus and brave
Cloanthus, and other of his Trojans, whom the black squall had sundered
at sea and borne far away on the coast. Dizzy with the shock of joy and
fear he and Achates together were on fire with eagerness to clasp their
hands; but in confused uncertainty they keep hidden, and clothed in the
sheltering cloud wait to espy what fortune befalls them, where they are
leaving their fleet ashore, why they now come; for they advanced, chosen
men from all the ships, praying for grace, and held on with loud cries
towards the temple.
After they entered in, and free speech was granted, aged Ilioneus with
placid mien thus began:
'Queen, to whom Jupiter hath given to found this new city, and lay the
yoke of justice upon haughty tribes, we beseech thee, we wretched
Trojans storm-driven over all [525-559]the seas, stay the dreadful
flames from our ships; spare a guiltless race, and bend a gracious
regard on our fortunes. We are not come to deal slaughter through Libyan
homes, or to drive plundered spoils to the coast. Such violence sits not
in our mind, nor is a conquered people so insolent. There is a place
Greeks name Hesperia, an ancient land, mighty in arms and foison of the
clod; Oenotrian men dwelt therein; now rumour is that a younger race
from their captain's name have called it Italy. Thither lay our course
. . . when Orion rising on us through the cloudrack with sudden surf
bore us on blind shoals, and scattered us afar with his boisterous gales
and whelming brine over waves and trackless reefs. To these your coasts
we a scanty remnant floated up. What race of men, what land how
barbarous soever, allows such a custom for its own? We are debarred the
shelter of the beach; they rise in war, and forbid us to set foot on the
brink of their land. If you slight human kinship and mortal arms, yet
look for gods unforgetful of innocence and guilt.
temple that towers above him, while, awaiting the queen, he admires the
fortunate city, the emulous hands and elaborate work of her craftsmen,
he sees ranged in order the [457-491]battles of Ilium, that war whose
fame was already rumoured through all the world, the sons of Atreus and
Priam, and Achilles whom both found pitiless. He stopped and cried
weeping, 'What land is left, Achates, what tract on earth that is not
full of our agony? Behold Priam! Here too is the meed of honour, here
mortal estate touches the soul to tears. Dismiss thy fears; the fame of
this will somehow bring thee salvation. '
So speaks he, and fills his soul with the painted show, sighing often
the while, and his face wet with a full river of tears. For he saw, how
warring round the Trojan citadel here the Greeks fled, the men of Troy
hard on their rear; here the Phrygians, plumed Achilles in his chariot
pressing their flight. Not far away he knows the snowy canvas of Rhesus'
tents, which, betrayed in their first sleep, the blood-stained son of
Tydeus laid desolate in heaped slaughter, and turns the ruddy steeds
away to the camp ere ever they tasted Trojan fodder or drunk of Xanthus.
Elsewhere Troilus, his armour flung away in flight--luckless boy, no
match for Achilles to meet! --is borne along by his horses, and thrown
back entangled with his empty chariot, still clutching the reins; his
neck and hair are dragged over the ground, and his reversed spear scores
the dust. Meanwhile the Ilian women went with disordered tresses to
unfriendly Pallas' temple, and bore the votive garment, sadly beating
breast with palm: the goddess turning away held her eyes fast on the
ground. Thrice had Achilles whirled Hector round the walls of Troy, and
was selling the lifeless body for gold; then at last he heaves a loud
and heart-deep groan, as the spoils, as the chariot, as the dear body
met his gaze, and Priam outstretching unarmed hands. Himself too he knew
joining battle with the foremost Achaeans, knew the Eastern ranks and
swart Memnon's armour. Penthesilea leads her crescent-shielded Amazonian
columns in furious heat with [492-524]thousands around her; clasping a
golden belt under her naked breast, the warrior maiden clashes boldly
with men.
While these marvels meet Dardanian Aeneas' eyes, while he dizzily hangs
rapt in one long gaze, Dido the queen entered the precinct, beautiful
exceedingly, a youthful train thronging round her.
Even as on Eurotas'
banks or along the Cynthian ridges Diana wheels the dance, while behind
her a thousand mountain nymphs crowd to left and right; she carries
quiver on shoulder, and as she moves outshines them all in deity;
Latona's heart is thrilled with silent joy; such was Dido, so she
joyously advanced amid the throng, urging on the business of her rising
empire. Then in the gates of the goddess, beneath the central vault of
the temple roof, she took her seat girt with arms and high enthroned.
And now she gave justice and laws to her people, and adjusted or
allotted their taskwork in due portion; when suddenly Aeneas sees
advancing with a great crowd about them Antheus and Sergestus and brave
Cloanthus, and other of his Trojans, whom the black squall had sundered
at sea and borne far away on the coast. Dizzy with the shock of joy and
fear he and Achates together were on fire with eagerness to clasp their
hands; but in confused uncertainty they keep hidden, and clothed in the
sheltering cloud wait to espy what fortune befalls them, where they are
leaving their fleet ashore, why they now come; for they advanced, chosen
men from all the ships, praying for grace, and held on with loud cries
towards the temple.
After they entered in, and free speech was granted, aged Ilioneus with
placid mien thus began:
'Queen, to whom Jupiter hath given to found this new city, and lay the
yoke of justice upon haughty tribes, we beseech thee, we wretched
Trojans storm-driven over all [525-559]the seas, stay the dreadful
flames from our ships; spare a guiltless race, and bend a gracious
regard on our fortunes. We are not come to deal slaughter through Libyan
homes, or to drive plundered spoils to the coast. Such violence sits not
in our mind, nor is a conquered people so insolent. There is a place
Greeks name Hesperia, an ancient land, mighty in arms and foison of the
clod; Oenotrian men dwelt therein; now rumour is that a younger race
from their captain's name have called it Italy. Thither lay our course
. . . when Orion rising on us through the cloudrack with sudden surf
bore us on blind shoals, and scattered us afar with his boisterous gales
and whelming brine over waves and trackless reefs. To these your coasts
we a scanty remnant floated up. What race of men, what land how
barbarous soever, allows such a custom for its own? We are debarred the
shelter of the beach; they rise in war, and forbid us to set foot on the
brink of their land. If you slight human kinship and mortal arms, yet
look for gods unforgetful of innocence and guilt.
