No More Learning

Himself he traces the city walls with a shallow trench, and
builds on it; and in fashion of a camp girdles this first settlement on
the shore with mound and battlements. And now his men had traversed
their way; they espied the towers and steep roofs of the Latins, and
drew near the wall. Before the city boys and men in their early
[163-196]bloom exercise on horseback, and break in their teams on the
dusty ground, or draw ringing bows, or hurl tough javelins from the
shoulder, and contend in running and boxing: when a messenger riding
forward brings news to the ears of the aged King that mighty men are
come thither in unknown raiment. He gives orders to call them within his
house, and takes his seat in the midst on his ancestral throne. His
house, stately and vast, crowned the city, upreared on an hundred
columns, once the palace of Laurentian Picus, amid awful groves of
ancestral sanctity. Here their kings receive the inaugural sceptre, and
have the fasces first raised before them; this temple was their
senate-house; this their sacred banqueting-hall; here, after sacrifice
of rams, the elders were wont to sit down at long tables. Further, there
stood arow in the entry images of the forefathers of old in ancient
cedar, Italus, and lord Sabinus, planter of the vine, still holding in
show the curved pruning-hook, and gray Saturn, and the likeness of Janus
the double-facing, and the rest of their primal kings, and they who had
borne wounds of war in fighting for their country. Armour besides hangs
thickly on the sacred doors, captured chariots and curved axes,
helmet-crests and massy gateway-bars, lances and shields, and beaks torn
from warships. He too sat there, with the divining-rod of Quirinus, girt
in the short augural gown, and carrying on his left arm the sacred
shield, Picus the tamer of horses; he whom Circe, desperate with amorous
desire, smote with her golden rod and turned by her poisons into a bird
with patches of colour on his wings. Of such wise was the temple of the
gods wherein Latinus, sitting on his father's seat, summoned the
Teucrians to his house and presence; and when they entered in, he thus
opened with placid mien:

'Tell, O Dardanians, for we are not ignorant of your city and race, nor
unheard of do you bend your course [197-228]overseas, what seek you?
what the cause or whereof the need that hath borne you over all these
blue waterways to the Ausonian shore? Whether wandering in your course,
or tempest-driven (such perils manifold on the high seas do sailors
suffer), you have entered the river banks and lie in harbour; shun not
our welcome, and be not ignorant that the Latins are Saturn's people,
whom no laws fetter to justice, upright of their own free will and the
custom of the god of old. And now I remember, though the story is dimmed
with years, thus Auruncan elders told, how Dardanus, born in this our
country, made his way to the towns of Phrygian Ida and to the Thracian
Samos that is now called Samothrace. Here was the home he left,
Tyrrhenian Corythus; now the palace of heaven, glittering with golden
stars, enthrones and adds him to the ranged altars of the gods. '

He ended; and Ilioneus pursued his speech with these words:

'King, Faunus' illustrious progeny, neither hath black tempest driven us
with stress of waves to shelter in your lands, nor hath star or shore
misled us on the way we went.
Of set purpose and willing mind do we draw
nigh this thy city, outcasts from a realm once the greatest that the sun
looked on as he came from Olympus' utmost border. From Jove hath our
race beginning; in Jove the men of Dardania rejoice as ancestor; our
King himself of Jove's supreme race, Aeneas of Troy, hath sent us to thy
courts. How terrible the tempest that burst from fierce Mycenae over the
plains of Ida, driven by what fate Europe and Asia met in the shock of
two worlds, even he hath heard who is sundered in the utmost land where
the ocean surge recoils, and he whom stretching midmost of the four
zones the zone of the intolerable sun holds in severance. Borne by that
flood over many desolate seas, we crave a scant dwelling [229-261]for
our country's gods, an unmolested landing-place, and the air and water
that are free to all. We shall not disgrace the kingdom; nor will the
rumour of your renown be lightly gone or the grace of all you have done
fade away; nor will Ausonia be sorry to have taken Troy to her breast.
By the fortunes of Aeneas I swear, by that right hand mighty, whether
tried in friendship or in warlike arms, many and many a people and
nation--scorn us not because we advance with hands proffering chaplets
and words of supplication--hath sought us for itself and desired our
alliance; but yours is the land that heaven's high ordinance drove us
forth to find. Hence sprung Dardanus: hither Apollo recalls us, and
pushes us on with imperious orders to Tyrrhenian Tiber and the holy
pools of Numicus' spring. 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!