P. VERGILI MARONIS ÆNEIDOS LIBER QVINTVS - Vergil's Æneid Book V

 The 5th Book of Vergil's Aeneis, 

"The Aeneid"

But in the meantime, Aeneas was already keeping his fleet on course.

Fixed on the path ahead and cleaving waves churned dark with northerly blasts,

He turned to look back at the walls which are a-bright with the blaze

Of unhappy Elissa's burning bonfire --  yet as to why she lit such a bier 

Remains hidden from him; but the woe of such a hard love  5

Which ended so profanely and knowing what a madwoman might do

Has led the hearts of the Teucri to grimly dread the worst to come.

As their ships held fast to their sea-path, no longer does any land

Rise to meet them, for everywhence waves the sea, and sky stretches algates;

And then a dark-blue cloud rolls overhead, a rainstorm which  10

Brought night and the winter's chill while shadows play'd amidst the waves.

Here the helmsman himself, goodly Palinurus, from the lofty stern cried,

"Alas! What such clouds as these now gird the airy skies?

What art thou readying now, Father Neptune?"

                                                                            And having spok'n thus,

He then bids them shorten sail, throw their backs into the strong oars,  15

And, after tacking 'gainst the wind, shouts he such words:

"Great-hearted Aeneas! Even though Jove the great father did unto me

Make a promise, I would not hope to reach Italy under this sky!

The winds have changed their course and rise from a darken'd eventide 

To rush us all at once -- storm-clouds are appearing out of thin air!  20

Neither can we weather such a squall, nor shall we strive enough

Against it! Since Lady Luck has o'ercome us yet again, let us follow her,

And whither she calls, let us turn our course thither. For I do reckon

That thy brother's friendly shores of Eryx and the Sicilian harbors

Are not far off if I set my course by the stars I rightly recall to mind."  25

Attic black-figure cup depicting Greek ships, c. 520 B.C.

Then pious Aeneas did reply: 

                                                "For my part, I have discerned 

What the winds desire, and in vain thou dost strive against them!

Alter our course! Ope the sails! Can any land be more welcoming to me

Or one which I would rather wish to beach my wearied crew,

Than this which holds in her protection Dardanian Acestes  30

And embraces to her breast the bones of my father, Anchises?"

After these words were spok'n, they seek a harbor as the sails are filled

By blasts of favorable Zephyrus. The swift fleet is carried on the swell,

And a people, at long last happy, are borne to well-known sands. 

And far off from a mountain's tip-top, a man looks out  35

And, espying the Trojans' beaching, runs he down to meet these friendly boats --

For he, Acestes, tricked out with javelins and the hide of a Libyan she-bear,

A hero begotten of the river-god Crinisus and a Trojan mother

Who bore him -- being not unmindful of his parents' ancient lineage,

Rejoices at his allies' return and happily welcomes them  40

With the treasure of his fields, comforting his weary friends with supplies.

When the bright day which follow'd had put to flight the stars 

With the advent of the rising Dawn, his allies from ev'ry strand 

Does Aeneas summon to a council and from a high mound he speaks:

"Great sons of Dardanus! O race of divine stock, of lofty blood!  45

With this month drawing to a close, the whole of a year hath passed

Since it was that the remains, the bones of my godlike father

We laid within the earth and made off'rings at mournful altars.

And now hath come the day, if I be not wrong, which will ever be bitter to me,

Which I will ever hold in high honor, if the gods have will'd thus.  50

This I would do were I still an exile stranded on the Gaetulian Syrtes,

Or if I had been captured on Argolic seas, or held even in Mycenae itself --

I would still keep my yearly oath and observe the solemn rites in due order,

Heaping the very altars of my sacrifices with gifts and off'rings.

Now besides we stand next to the ashes and bones of my very parent --  55

And hardly do I think that this was done without the plan and power of the gods --

For this is the selfsame friendly port to which we have been carried.

And so, come now and let us all celebrate this happy honor -- 

Let us ask the winds, and may he will me to yearly complete these holy rites,

In temples dedicated to him in the city which I am to found in time to come.  60

Two head of cattle to ye in each ship doth Acestes, who himself 

Is born of Troy, give out; make ye now sure that our penates are to come to this feast,

As well as our homeland's gods, and those above whom Acestes also worships.

And mark ye this especial: when upon the bountiful day the ninth Aurora

Shows her face to humankind and covers the earth with her rays,  65

The first games of Teucer shall I install: there will be a race of ships,

And then a footrace shall determine a winner, and any who dare with their strength

To step up and prove their better skill in either javelin-cast or flighty arrows,

Or even if they have the confidence to enter the ring wearing rough and bloody caestus.

Let all besides sit besides and let them await the awarding of the deserved palm.  70

Check all, ye now, your tongues, and wreathe garlands 'bout your temples."

Having spok'n thus, he twists his mother's myrtle about his head.

This Helymus also does, this then Acestes, who is along in his years, does,

This also the young man Ascanius does, and the rest of the people follow their lead.

He then went from the meeting-ground with many thousands  75

To the gravesite, a mound amidst the gathering throng. 

According to the rites, he here from twain Grecian bowls of unmixed Bacchic wine 

Poured libations earthward, then twain bowls of fresh milk, then twain of holy blood,

And then redden'd flowers he throws and such things he cries:

"Hail, my blessed father -- it is I again; hail, my forebearer whom I rescued  80

Only for thee to become ashes -- hail to my father's spirit and shade!

I was not allowed to seek out the Italian lands with thee, our destined plains,

Nor the Ausonian Thybris, a river which they say exists somewhere."

He had spok'n these things, when from the foot of the shrine, a shining snake

Unwound his coils seven times, and made seven calm circles  85

Embracing the whole of the hill before it then glided among the altars,

While off its back, mottled with blue-green spots, a golden sheen

Was setting its scales a-gleam, just like when a rainbow 

Throws off a thousand different hues after catching the bright light of the shining sun --

Aeneas stood dumb at the sight. The serpent's long course  90

At last ended amidst the mixing bowls and polished cups

Where it took a taste of the feast and then retreated harmlessly 

To the depths of the earth'n crypt after eating its fill at the altar. 

Aeneas renew'd the rites which had been begun for his father with more zeal,

But if he should imagine the creature to be the genius of the place or his father's familiar,  95

He was unsure. He slays two sheep according to custom,

And as many sows, and likewise black-back'd heifers,

And then he pours the bowels of wine while calling the soul

Of great Anchises and his shade which had been just sent back to Acheron.

And not did his allies, of whom he had a great many, neglect to  100

Happ'ly bear their own off'rings, to weigh down the altar and slay their kine. 

Others set bronze cauldrons in order'd rows throughout the grass,
And, placing live coals beneath them, cook the sacrificed flesh.

The long-awaited day arrived after the steeds of Phaethon

Lifted the ninth Aurora's dawn with a gentle light across the land.  105

The tale told 'round and the reputation of famous Acestes had roused 

All his neighbors -- the shores are teeming with a happy company

Part who wish to see the Aeneads, while part to test their strength and mettle. 

Firstly they set the prizes before the eyes of all within the midst of

The encircling ring -- holy tripods and crowns of leafy fronds,  110

And the palm of reward for the winners, and arms, and raiment 

Dyed with purple, as well as talents of both silver and gold.

A trumpet sings out a call from the middle mound that the games had begun. 

Four evenly-matched keels are chos'n from the larger fleet to inaugurate 

These contests by a race of speed with heavy rowing oars. 

Mnestheus captains The Pristis, a flighty ship due to her tough crew --

Later in Italy, he would give his stock, the Memmi, their name from his own;

Then comes Captain Gyas sailing the enormous Chimaera, a huge bulk, 

A city on water, its crew of Dardanian youths drive onward 

Her triple decks and her three banks of oars raise her up;  120

Then Sergestus, who from his name the House of the Sergii derive,

Captains the mighty Centaur; and finally the sea-green Scylla is captain'd by Cloanthus,

Who is the forebearer of thine own house, O thou Roman Cluentus. 

There is, at a distance off, a rock in the sea set against the foaming 

Surf, which is oft drowned -- but by just a little! -- by meager  125

Waves when winterly Caurus begins to hide the boreal sky;

It lies hidden in calm waters, its level top lifting up from the motionless

Water, a most welcome resting haunt for sunning waterfowl.

It was here that Aeneas decided to plant a leafy shoot upon one edge, yea, here our father

Marked the meta, the other end of the course, a sign for the sailors to turn back,  130

And where they should begin to bend back the wide arc of their race. 

Thereupon they read by chos'n lot their place in line and set upon the sterns

Their captains each, who stood a-gleam in gold and purple hues. 

The rest of the crew, the young men, were crown'd with poplar leaves

And shone likewise themselves from their shoulders slather'd in oil; 135

They seat themselves on the benches and stretch their arms for the oars,

Each awaiting the signal as beating fear drown'd their gasping hearts,

And unyielding desire for the rewards of victory fill'd their veins and sinews.  

So then when the clear-ringing trumpet echoed the sound to start, all the ships

Leapt forth from their lines. The shouts of sailors issuing order  140

And obeisance struck the heav'ns, as they churn'd the waves with their straining muscles. 

They cut these furrows all at once, and the whole surface gaped wide

As it was churn'd up by the oars and three-fork'd beaks of ships.

Not as in as much headlong haste are chariots in a double-steeded contest

Rushing along a level plain as they tear forth from their starting boxes,  145

And not so differently is it when the charioteers strike their team with 

The undulating whip, and leaning his weight into the lashings.

Then the applause and groans of the crowd favoring one contestant or another

Fill the entire grove and the shelter'd shoreline echoes their shouts

And, resounding upon resounding, their cheers spill out and fill the nearby hills.  150

Taking his place at the lead afore all the rest, Gyas slips by 

Amidst confusion and uproar -- but right after him Cloanthus

Follows, and though his ship's oars may be better, her heavy weight of pine

Makes her slow. After these two comes The Pristis neck-and-neck with

The Centaur who vie with each other for the next place --  155

Now The Pristis has the mastery, but now the length of The Centaur

Gives her an edge against her contender, but now they keep 

Their long keels joined, nudging each other as they cut the wide saltsea.

And now they draw near to the rock and keep their course to round the meta,

When Gyas, in the lead and winning at the halfway mark,  160

Bids his helmsman Menoetes with a shout of words suchlike:

"Wherefore wilst thou avoid our starboard?! Keep thy course this way!

Hug the shore, and keep the rock on our portside with oars upraised!

Let the others stray into deeper water!"

                                                                 he shouted; but Menoetes fears

The hidden rock and turns the prow towards the waves of deeper water.  165

"Wherefore wilst thou drift afar?! Again I say: towards the rock, Menoetes!"

With a loud shout Gyas repeated his command -- but, lo! Cloanthus

He espies, and gaining on him, for he was holding a course closer to the rock.

He brushed a scraping path betwixt Gyas' vessel and the wave-resounding 

Rock, a course keeping to The Chimaera's portside, and all of a sudden  170

The Scylla takes the lead and seeks safer waters after leaving the meta in her wake. 

But then burned the pain within the huge young man's bones,

And not did a few tears fall upon his cheeks as he, forgetful

Of any manners or etiquette, or even of the safety of his crew,

Did seize old Menoetes and headlong hurled him from the high deck into the sea,  175

Making himself both captain and helmsman of The Chimaera

And now he onward calls his men to action and steers them for the shoreline.

But as for Menoetes -- the heavy old man scarcely made his way out of the deep,

And lifted he his older frame which dripped floods from his soaking clothes,

Upon the rocky outcropping, and sat he down upon the dry edge.  180

At the old man's fall and swim the Teucri raised up a laugh,

Making jokes as he retched up the salty flood which filled his lungs.

Here were happy hopes heighten'd within the hearts of the two frontrunners,

Sergestus and Mnestheus, now that they had left behind a faltering Gyas.

Sergestus takes the lead as he draws closer near the rocky edge,  185

But still not yet does he had a full ship's length lead,

Only part, for bit-by-bit does beak of The Pristis gain on them.

Walking betwixt his crew as they sit on either side of the vessel,

Mnestheus urgeth them on: 

                                            "Row! Row! Come now! Bend those oars,

O allies Hector! Ye are the ones I chose at Troy's closing hour  190

To be my closest fighters! Now use your strength,

Now use your hearts which you had in the Gaetulian Syrtes,

And in the Ionian Sea, and in Cape Malea's pursuing waters!

No longer do I, Mnestheus, seek the first place, nor contest to win

-- Let them win those whom thou desirest to win, O Neptune --  195

Only to fall to the final place would be shameful -- win this, O fellow-citizens,

And ward off this curse from us!"

                                                        They then lean into 

Their deepest rivalries. Shuddereth the bronze keels under their wide strokes,

And the sea-floor is blown away by their air, until their short'n'd breaths

Causes their limbs and parched lips to shake as their sweat flows algates in rivulets.  200

And so it goes, a chance event oft brings long wish'd-for esteem for men:

For Sergestus, raging at heart, drives his prow right into the rocks,

As he tries to hug the inside, but he sails into uneven waters,

And -- unlucky man! -- grinds against the rocks jutting out here and there.

The oars struck against the jagged and pointed reef, 

Jamming and straining,  205

Before snapping, and the prow hung useless upon the rockface. 

All hands man the deck, but delay a bit, straining ears to hear a further din

Signaling disaster before putting to good use iron-tipped hooks and sharp-edged boat-pikes

To try to gather in hurried fashion their brok'n oars from the splashing swell. 

At this was Mnestheus glad and made more focused by this change of place  210

Makes a quick maneuver with his oars and, beseeching the winds, 

Sets his sights on favorable waters and sails to the open sea.

Just as a dove is a-sudden stirr'd from the cave which is her home,

Her nest and chicks hidden among the shadowy clefts of the rocks,

She is born aloft to the fields, flying and wheeling on frighten'd feathers  215

She beats her wings loudly at first, but soon glides gracefully on the still air,

Finding a flighty path now, the flitting bird barely flaps her wings --

Just so did Mnestheus, just so did his ship The Pristis sail across final stretch

Of the sea, just so did the last push carry onward their flying keels.

Now he leaves behind Sergestus bemoaning his lot atop his high roost  220

Upon the rock and calling in vain from the prison of the shoals

As they attempted to figure out how to race with their broken oars. 

Now The Pristis overtakes Gyas in the enormous mass which is The Chimaera,

A poor ship which yields her place, for she had been of her helmsman robb'd.

Only now doth Cloanthus remain afore Mnestheus,  225

And he falls right on the former's stern, keeping close to her while exerting their strength.

But then the shouts double in count and volume, and the runner-up's zeal

The crowd cheers on, and the very air resounds with cries and shouts. 

The other crew is indignant lest they keep their due place and the honor

Which has been dealt out to them already -- a people who wish to sell their lives for praise;  230

The others feed on their success -- they can do it because they are believed that they can do it. 

Mayhaps perchance with their beaks equal, they would have taken the prize,

If Cloanthus had not stretched his hands out towards the sea

And poured out prayers and called the gods in invocations:

"O gods to whom the power o'er the sea hath been giv'n, o'er whose realm I now run:  235

To ye shall I happ'ly bring a shining white bull before the altars on yon shore,

In payment for the answer'd prayers, the entrails into the salt-flood

Shall I cast and flowing wine shall I pour into the waves!"

Thus spake he, and from the deepest depths of those waves

A chorus of Nereids, and Phorkys, and the maiden Panopea,  240

And father Portunus himself with his mighty hand drove the praying man

Forward in his course -- swifter in speed than Notus' southerly gusts or a flying arrow

Cloanthus sped to land and sailed into the safety of the deep-laid harbor.

Then the son of Anchises called everyone together according to custom

And summoned the winner Cloanthus in the great voice of a herald  245

And then he wreathed his temples with the green laurel 

And lets him choose three bullocks and to take wine and a large talent of silver as gifts for the ships. 

To the captains themselves he adds these especial rewards:

To the winner goes a gold'n cloak, around the border of which ran  250

A purple Meliboean border in a double meandering line,

With a scene woven showing a princely youth on forested Ida,

A-wearied from chasing swift deer with dart and running 

A keen-eyed man, breathlessly panting -- but now from Ida is he lifted up aloft

In the gleaming talons of Jove's rapacious eagle who beareth the god's arms;  255

The long-aged guards reach out their hands in vain to the heav'ns

High above, and the dogs go mad with barking at the empty air.

But then there is he who valiantly took the second place,

And to him is given a set of light plate-armor, a-work'd in trifold gold

Interwoven, a set which had Aeneas himself had tak'n from Demoleos  260

Winning it in combat beside the swift-flowing Simoeis beneath high Ilium --

And now he gives it away, a worthy and worthwhile defense among armor. 

Scarcely could the twain servants Phegeus and Sagaris lift it,

Heaving the hefty weight upon their shoulders -- though when once he wore it,

Demoleos would send the Trojans dispersed and running in all directions.  265

For the third-place winners, he makes a gift of twin cauldrons made of bronze,

And bowls of silver, engraved with deep marks of decoration.

And now with gifts giv'n and all the winners decked out in prizes,

Departing with temples bound in ribbons of Punic purple,

When from the jagged rock did the last ship finally withdraw herself,

With much toil and effort, her oars all ruined and one deck totally lost --

Mocked and without any honor did Sergestus pilot his ship to shore.

Just as when oft a serpent hath fall'n from the path into the raised roadside,

As it tried to cross and was caught by a bronze-rimmed wheel, or half-dead it

Doth lie languid after some wand'ring traveler hath hit it with stone or stick;

And in vain he tries to flee, his coals writhing in long crests,

Partially because he's still a wild animal, his eyes burning and hissing from his throat,

He tries to lift his head with difficulty, and partially because his crippling wound holds him back,

Winding upon his own coils and wending on his own weight --

By such a rowing as this doth the slow ship sail back to shore.  280

Nevertheless she maketh sail, and under full sail doth she reach the harbor-mouth. 

Aeneas gifts Sergestus with the reward which was promised,

And is happy that the ship was saved and the crew safely return'd.

To him is given a slave woman hardly unknowing of the works of Minerva --

Pholoe by name, a Cretan by birth and bearing twin boys at her breasts.  285

With this contest done, doth pious Aeneas set out

For a grassy plain which everywhence on curving hills

Did wooded forests gird, and thus in the middle, in the valley

Was there made a circle for a theater -- and there within did the hero 

With many thousands take to the center mound and took his seat on a chair set there for him.  290

There he addresses those who perchance would try their mettle in a quick footrace,

And he tempts their stout hearts with prizes and sets rewards for them.

Algates arrive Teucri mixed with Sicani of local Sicily,

Nisus and Euryalus are among these the foremost:

Euryalus was remarkable for his young frame and flowering youth,  295

While Nisus was for his devoted love for the young man; then came

Kingly Diores, one of the outstanding stock of Priamus.

Then Salius, and with him Patron -- the former was an Acarnan,

While the the latter was of Arcadian blood from the race of Tegeae;

Then came two Trinacrian youths, Helymus and Panopes,  300

Who were accustom'd to the forests, and companions of the old man, Acestes. 

Many that were there besides whose renown hath been lost in hidd'n ages of time.  

Aeneas then in their midst spoke such words suchlike:

"Harken, ye all, to these words, and turn these happy thoughts in your minds:

No one of your number will leave from this place without me giving thee something:  305

Pairs of Cretan arrows will I give, each finished in flighty iron,

And a two-edged ax each wrought in silver decorations --

There will be a reward for all who are here! The winners will receive

Three prizes and with the pale-yellow'd olive branches shall their heads be crown'd.

Let the winner have a horse decked out in glorious decorations.  310

Let the second-place winner have an Amazonian quiver full of arrows

From Thrace, which is bound with wide bands of gold on either end,

And a belt loop'd thereon and fasten'd with a shining gem as a broach.

Let the third-place winner leave the ring happy with this helmet!"

After these words were said, they take their places and, at the hearing,  315

Of the sudden signal, they're off and leave behind the starting line --

Streaming like unto clouds, they all make for the finish.

First and a long way ahead before everyone else was Nisus,

Faster than the winds themselves or a winged bolt of lightning;

Next in place -- but still a very long way off, but next in place he was indeed --  320

Follow'd Salius; then after him a good ways back came Euryalus in third,

And Helymus follows Euryalos, and then after Helymus himself

Lo! flieth forth Diores, now heel-to-heel in line with the next in line,

Very near to leaning on his shoulder. And if there were more space left

By which he would slip ahead and leave the final outcome in doubt;

But nearly in the final stretch were they growing weary as they approached

The finish line, when in some slippery blood did Nisus

Unluckily fall, the result by chance of the slaughtered bullocks

When they poured forth their blood and wetten'd the green grass.  330

It was here the youth, who was already celebrating as if he'd already won,

Could not keep his staggered step upon the ground, but headfirst

He fell and crashed soaking in the mud made from the holy gore.

But not did he forget Euryalos --  not did he forget his love:

For he rose enough through the muck to put himself before Salius,  335

And the former himself fell rolling on the densely pack'd sand of the ring,

While Euryalos sped by, the winner by the efforts of his friend,

The first place he holds, and he flies by to applause and roars of support.

After him crosses Helymus, and now in third place comes Diores.

Here did the whole enseated enclave and the entire crowd hear  340

From Salius in his great and thund'ring tones of clamor

That from him had the prize by trickery been stol'n, and he demanded his due honor.

Favor guards Euryalos, for tears are more fitting for his age,

And his talents are becoming in such a beautiful body as his. 

Diores adds and amplifies by his own great voice and words,  345

That he had crossed and tak'n the palm, and in vain had he come

To claim his reward, if the first place prize were to go to Salius.

Then quoth Father Aeneas:

                                            "Your gifts remain yours -- 

They stay sure and fixed, lads -- none are moving your prize or place.

But may it be permitted for me to take pity on an innocent friend's ill-luck."  350

Having spok'n thus, he gives from off his own back to Salius the enormous pelt

Of a Gaetulian lion, heavy and with claws covered in gold leaf.

It was here that Nisus spake:

                                                "If such as these are the prizes for the losers,

And pity is felt by thee for those who fell -- then what worthy gifts for Nisus

Wilst thou give, for I would have earned the first place prize

If not I, like Salius, had borne such ill luck as I had?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he showed them his face and limbs

Befoul'd by the wet sludge. Our father best did laugh then at him

And bid a buckler be brought for him, a piece done by Didymaon,

Unfixed from the holy doorpost of Neptune's temple by the Danai.  360

This extraordinary prize he grants to the outstanding young man.

Afterwards, when the races were done, and Aeneas had giv'n out the gifts,

"Now let he who would lift his arms with conquering fists step forth!"

Spake he thus, and he set forth twin rewards as the prize for fighting:  365

To the winner goeth a bullock clothed in gold and holy ribands,

As well as a blade and remarkable helm as a comfort for the loser.

No more delay -- with his enormous strength doth upraise the face

Of Dares, who then stands up amidst a loud murmur of the crowd --

For he was wont to in times before contend against Paris himself,  370

And by the selfsame mound wherein lieth the mightiest of all, Hector,

Dares was declared the winner when he did lay out the great bulk of Bytes,

A warrior who came from the Bebrycian race of Amycus,

Whom Dares struck and stretched out dead upon the yellow sand.

This Dares lifted his head high aloft o'er the crowd for combat to come,  375

Stretched his broad shoulders to throw left and right and right and left punch,

One after the after, mixing them up as he shadow-boxes the air.

A contender is sought -- but none from so great a crowd as this

Dares to step up to the man and don the caestus on his fists.

And so, eagerly doth the man think that all the rest have yielded the palm to him,  380

And while he standeth afore Aeneas, and no longer lingering

Doth he hold the bullock's horn in his left hand and saieth thus:

"Goddess-born, if none dare to commit himself to this fight,

To what end do I stand here? How long shall I be kept waiting?

Bid me lead my gifts away!"

                                                At this the rest of the sons of Dardanus  385

Gave a full-throated roar and bid what was promised to the man be given.

It was here that grim Acestes did scold Entellus with such words

As he took a seat down next to him on a slope of green grass:

"Why, Entellus! Of all heroes once thou were the bravest --

Wilst thou allow and endure such gifts as these to be taken and with no challenger?  390

Where now is our god -- thou know'st the one -- our teacher

Who is remember'd only in vain? Where now is Eryx? Where is thy renown 

Throughout Sicily's three promontories -- what of those trophies which hang in thy house?"

But he to this replied:

                                    "It is not the love of praise, nor glory which has gone,

Nor is it the beating heart of fear --  but chill'd doth slowly run  395

My aged blood, and my exhausted strength grows cold in my joints. 

If within me were the same might which now flows within that impudent lad

If that same youth were now within me as I once had at my hands,

Yea, scarcely would I need such a pretty prize to convince me

To come forth -- I don't dally for presents."

                                                                      Having spok'n thus,  400

Into the midst of the ring his pair of caestus he threw

With a heavy heft, the selfsame gloves Eryx was wont to wear in combat,

And he began to wrap the leather thongs about his hands and up his forearms. 

The minds of the rest were dumbfounded -- huge straps of leather from the

Hides of seven oxen were stiffened by bits of lead and iron wrapped within. 405

Before all others is Dares himself struck motionless and at a distance doth he decline,

As the great-hearted son of Anchises doth the weight and size

Of these gloves turn this way and that, hither and thither back and forth.

Thereupon the older man replied with such words from his heart:

"Why, what if any had seen the gloves and arms of  

Hercules himself?  410

What if thou hadst seen a grim fight upon this very seashore?

These thy brother Eryx once did wear as his arms.

Seest thou how with blood and brain they are still stained?

With these he stood against the mighty grandson of Alceus; with these I myself

Did fight when better blood gave me strength, and not yet had envious  415

Old age besprinkled my twin temples with specks of gray. 

But if Trojan Dares does not wish to contend against our arms,

And if it sits rightly with pious Aeneas, and my spokesman, Acestes,

Doth approve it, let us level the field -- for thee I'll take off Eryx's gloves --

So a sigh thou canst breathe, lad -- and thou take off thy Trojan caestus."  420

Thus spake he, and from his shoulders he threw off his double-folded cloak,

And thus exposed the great joints of his limbs, his mighty bones, and rippling muscles --

He stood enormous in the center of the sand-covered ring.

Then our father, the son of Anchises, bore aloft twain pairs of 

Equally-wrought gloves and began he to bind the fists of either fighter.  425

Each immediately takes up his stance straight up upon his toes, 

And each fearlessly extends their arms into the air afore them.

Keeping their heads far back from the heavy blows 

Which they rain'd down hand-to-hand, feinting to draw in an attack,

The one lighter on his feet, relying on his youth to make his movement flow like water,  430

While the other thrived on the size of his frame -- however, slow

And trembling are his slipping knees, and gasping pain causes his huge muscles to shudder.

Many are the wounds which in vain the twain give back and forth to each other,

Many are the bruises doubling on their crack'd sides, the deep smacks 

As they land strikes on chests, and begin their hands to falter about  435

Their ears and temples ofter and more so as they take hard hit after hit. 

But standeth Entellus unmoving and focused in the same stance,

Warding off the blows from his body with his ever-watchful eyes alone.

But his attacker, just as if he were leading the charge 'gainst some lofty city upon a cliff-face,

Or arranging his army in an encircling siege about a mountaintop castle,  440

Now here, now there makes he his attacks, but each place he tries in his desperate 

And unfocused assaults, he worthlessly expends his efforts. 

Extending then his right fist did Entellus upward rise, and aloft

He stretched out -- the other sensing a coming blow from below did speedily 

Leap in anticipation, and slipped bodily away from the expected assault.  445

Entellus poured his strength into the wind, and immediately 

The heavy man heavily falls, his huge frame colliding with the earth,

As sometimes will a hollow pine tree either on Erymanthus

Or even on Ida the mighty be ripped entirely up by the roots.

They all rise eagerly at once, the Teucri and Trinacrians youths;  450

Their shout reaches the heavens, and the first to run out there is Acestes, 

Who pitifully catches his equal-aged friend from where he lay on the ground.

But he is slow'd not by this turn, nor is the hero scared at all,

But keener doth he return to the fight, and his wrath revives his might.

Then did shame set his strength alight and, fully knowledgeable of his valor,  455

Drives headlong against Dares and pushes him across the entire ring,

Doubling now the blows from his right hand, now from his left,

No hesitation, no respite -- like stormclouds swelling and thundering

In the heavens above, just so did the hero crowd his contender with blows,

Beating and striking Dares with one fist now, and now the other.  460

Thereupon did Father Aeneas scarcely allow Entellus to continue his wrath

And rage in such a savage way as he was against the other man,

And so set an end upon the match and took up he a wearied Dares

In his arms and calm'd the angry attacker with such words as these:

"Unhappy man -- why hath such madness as this tak'n hold of thy mind?  465

Hast thou not felt that another has more strength and the gods changed their support?

Yield, thou, to any god."

                                        So spake he and broke up the fight with his words.

While the beaten man's trusty friends led him away on his wobbling knees,

His head rolling from this side to that, he was spitting thick gobs of gore

From his mouth, some loosen'd teeth mingled in the blood  470

All the way back to the ships -- but the helm and blade they call'd for

And received, leaving the palm of victory and the bullock for Entellus. 

Here the winner felt haughty in his heart and glorying in the prize of the bullock,

Quoth he: 

                 "Goddess-born, and all the rest of ye, Teucri, know this:

This is the strength it was which I once had when I was a younger man,  475

And from what sort of death ye have saved and guarded Dares."

Thus spake he, and he took up a stance opposite the head of the bullock,

The selfsame creature he had just won as a prize, and, having withdrawn

His right hand, he then let the caestus-weighted fist fly betwixt the horns

Of the beast and, upon dashing the skull to pieces, be-spattered the brains.  480

Stretched out and shaking in its final throes, the bullock lies upon ground,

While the man standing o'er it poured out such words from his breast:

"Here is a better sacrifice which for thee, Eryx, in place of the life of Dares 

I offer -- and here it is that, as winner, I offer up both my caestus and mine art."

Forthwith doth Aeneas invite the contenders for the archery contest,  485

Those who would bend their skill to shooting swift arrows for a prize,

Having gathered a large handful of men, he has uplifted the mast of Serestus' ship,

And a flighty dove, tied by a cord affixed to the high mast-top,

Will serve as a target to which they can bend their bows and aim their arrows. 

The men gather'd and take each a lot thrown into a bronze helm --  490

First place is announced to an accompanying shout of support,

That of Hyrtax's son, Hippocoon, who take his place before all the rest.

Then came Mnestheus, the winner of the recent ship-race

Into the second place, yea, Mnestheus crown'd with green olive shoots.

Then third came Eurytion, who was thine own brother, O far-famed  495

Pandarus, who was bid once upon a time to break the armistice 

By being the first to let loose a weapon into the midst of the Achivi.  

Finally, at the bottom of the helm, was left the name of Acestes,

Who dared himself to attempt this young man's game. 

Thereupon does each man bend his bow by flexing his mighty strength,  500

And each picks a handful of arrows from their quivers.

The first shaft of Hyrtax's youthful son split the very air 

As from its buzzing bowstring it flew through the heavens,

And fixed itself quivering into the wood of the mast.

The mast itself shook and on terrified wings the bird trembled  505

And every spectator burst out into uproarious applause.  

After him keen Mnestheus took his stance and drew back the bowstring,

Keeping his aim high aloft, and lining up his sight and the arrowhead.

But nay -- the poor man is unable to hit the bird with his iron,

But the knots and the line which chains the bird his arrow severs,  510

The very line which fetter'd her foot to the mast-top and kept her there.

She took to her escape southward on Notus' blasts, flying into dark clouds there,

When with haste -- for already had he his arrow ready and nock'd

'Gainst the bowstring, Eurytion calls his brother in a vow,

And, taking a second to mark his target happily flitting in the open air  515

On her flapping wings, he hits the dove as she wheels under a dark stormcloud.

Lifeless she earthwards fell after giving up her heart amongst the stars

And the aether above, and bore back down the arrow which pierced her. 

Lost was the prize of victory, for Acestes alone remained --

But yet he nevertheless lets loose his shaft into the air above  520

And so displayed an older man's skill by causing the bow to twang.

But here -- all of a sudden -- an omen of what's-to-come 

Appears afore the eyes of all; only afterwards would the result be known,

Though at the time the terrified priests sang this sight as true omen:

For the flying arrow while passing through swirling clouds burst into flame  525

And so made a road of fire with its flight, a tender light which 

Was devoured by the winds, just as oft do shooting stars

Race across the heavenly plain and leave gleaming trails in their wake.

With minds dumbfounded are the Trinacrians and Teucri rooted to the spot

As they offer their prayers to heaven above; nor doth Aeneas, above all others,  530

Fail to acknowledge the omen, but happ'ly he embraceth Acestes

And piles on him great gifts and prizes while speaking such words:

"Take, thou, these, sire -- for the great king of Olympus hath wished

By those clearly seen signs for thee to have these rewards! 

Thou shalt have this prize which did once belong to long-aged Anchises himself:  535

A crater, a mixing bowl, with decoration engraved which a Thracian

Named Cisseus did once give as a prize to my forebearer Anchises

As a remembrance and pledge of their friendship and love."

Having spok'n thus, he wreathes the man's temples with green laurel leaves,

And names Acestes the first place winner before all the others.  540

And not is Eurytion jealous or ill-intended concerning these usurp'd rewards,

Even though it was he alone who pierced the bird in the lofty sky.

Next for gifts approaches he who cut the line with his shot,

While last comes he whose bolt stood fixed in the top of the mast. 

But Father Aeneas, even though the contest had not yet been finished,  545

Calls the guardian and friend of his young son Iulus, named Epytides,

To himself, and speaks these words into his loyal ear:

"Go! Come now! If Ascanius hath his youthful vanguard readied

And instructed in the way to conduct themselves and their mounts,

Let him show off his squad to his grandfather and display himself in arms --  550

Go tell him!"

                        quoth Aeneas. Meanwhile he himself bids all the people

To leave from the lengthy ring and make empty the plain. 

Then enter the boys and before the eyes of their parents they shine

On their bridled mounts, at whose passing the all of Trinacria and Troy murmured. 555

According to custom, the hair of all the boys had been cut with an encircling garland,

And each had twin spears of cornel-wood tipped with iron,

And some had light quivers on their shoulders. A circle of gold doth go

In a twisting ring about their necks, hanging high on their chests.

Three in number were the squadrons, and go three captains  560

Ahead of them; the boys following each captain are in two groups of six,

Separate from the rest of the column, and all a-gleam as their leaders.

One division of the youths is led by a young man whose 

Name Priamus recalls his grandfather -- he is thy child, Polites,

One of the forefathers-to-be of Italy; the lad is borne on a Thracian steed  565

Of white with dark splotches, the ends of his legs were white,

While he showed off a high and hard forehead of white as well. 

Another captain is Atys, whence cometh the stock of Latin Atii,

Little Atys, a youth well-beloved by young Iulus himself. 

The final captain, before all others most beautiful was Iulus  570

Atop a Sidonian steed, which once did splendid Dido

Give to him as a remembrance and token of her love. 

The rest of the youths are borne by Trinacrian steeds

Of old Acestes.

The sons of Dardanus greet the nervous boys with applause and take joy  575

In gazing at them, recognizing in their faces their old relatives.

After they had ridden about the entire assemblage 

And afore the eyes of all, the prepared signal was giv'n

By a loud shout of Epytides, who then cracked a whip --

They race in different directions, three equal divisions breaking apart  580

Their gathered ranks; and at a call, they again converge

Their paths and charge with all their lances leveled for attack. 

Then some go one way, and others go the opposite way,

And then double back, making loops and circles in their riding,

As if engaging in the semblance of a sortie under arms.  585

And now they show off their unarmored backs in flight, now again they wheel

To charge with spears, and now they are borne side-by-side in a truce.

As when once upon a time, it is said, was there a labyrinth deep in Crete,

A maze of blind walls and of doubtful paths, of dead-ends,

Down a thousand ways deceit would lead thee, so that any mark  590

Or sign to follow would be ruined by any unseen or irretraceable mistake --

In hardly any way were the footfalls of the Teucrian youths any different

As they weave and dodge in their galloping and game-like battles,

Like dolphins they seem, which through the watery seas swim

And cut their paths betwixt the Carpathian and Libyan waves where they play.  595

It was this custom in both racing and contest on horseback

Which Ascanius first instituted when he girt Alba Longa with walls,

And taught he the elder Latins how to conduct these rites

In the way which he had as a boy, in the way which the Trojan youths had done --

So then the Albans taught their children, and hence did great Rome  600

Receive them and kept their fathers' traditions in high regard;

For now are the youths said to be "of Troy" and their formation called "Trojan".

And so are completed the contests which honored Aeneas' sacred father.

It was here that Fortune changed her sides and made new compacts:

For while they were carrying out their rites by celebrating their games  605

It was Iris whom Saturnian Juno sent down from the heavens

To the Ilian fleet and on the winds she breathes for her a passage,

For still is she much moved by her old grievances yet unresolved. 

Now Iris did wend along her way with haste along her thousand rainbow's hues,

Racing speedily down her footpath, a maid'n espied by none. 610

But she catches sight of the enormous gath'ring and upon the shore she lights

And sees the harbors empty and fleet left abandoned of any crew.

But far off on the a lonely shore do the Trojan women stand apart

And weep for the lost of Anchises, and they all stare with tear-fill'd eyes

Out towards the deep and vast sea. Alas! so many waves  615

And so much of the sea is left for a weary people -- they are all of one voice.

For a city they pray, they are tired of bearing such toils on the ocean.

And so amidst them did Iris, scarcely ignorant of ill works, 

Fall in and put aside the appearance and raiment of a goddess --

She becomes Beroe, the long-aged wife of Tmarian Doryclus,  620

Who once had a people, a name, a sons of her own,

And so thus carries weight amongst the mothers of the Dardanians.

"O wretched women," quoth she, "whom the Achaean troops in wartime 

Did not drag off to a woeful death beneath our fathers' walls! O my people,

O my unlucky people, what ruination doth Fortune hath in reserve for thee?  625

Already hath pass'd the seventh summer since the fall of Troy,

Since the waves, since all those lands, since across so many unwelcome stones

And stars have we travail'd, while through the great sea 

Do we chase after Italy, which ever seems to flee us, as we're e'er toss'd upon the waves!

Here are the borders of our brother Eryx and our host, Acestes!

Who keeps us from putting up walls and giving our citizens a city?

O my father's land, O penates taken in vain from the enemy's hands,

Shall no walls ever be call'd Troy? N'er again upon

Hector's streams, the rivers Xanthus and Simoeis shall I gaze?

But come with me now! Set aflame with me these accursed keels!  635

For came to me the ghost of Cassandra the prophetess in a dream,

Handing to me burning brands: 'Seek Troy here!

Here is your home!" saieth she. "Now is the time for action,

Nor is delay borne out by such portents! Lo! here are four altars

To Neptune! The god himself hands to us torches and heart!'  640

Speaking such words as these, she forcibly snatched up the dangerous fire

And with her right hand held aloft and straining, she brandishes it before

She hurls it. Alarmed are the minds and dumbfounded are the hearts 

Of the Ilian women. Here one from out of the many, the eldest in age,

Pyrgo, queenly nursemaid of so many of Priamus' sons:

"That is not Beroe! That is not the Rhoeteian wife, O ye mothers,

Of Doryclus! Make ye note of the marks of godlike splendor,

The blazing fire burning in her eyes, the spirit which is within her,

Her face, the sound of her voice, the way she wends and goes --

I myself just now did leave Beroe abed and sick at heart,  650

Ill and unhappy she is that she alone is missing such rites

Which she wished to help conduct for deserved Anchises!"

Thus spake she.

But at first the mothers with narrow'd and sideways eyes were doubtfully

Gazing at the ships, wavering betwixt a wretched love  655

For the land on which they now stand and the kingdoms promised by fate,

When the goddess lifts up herself on flapping wings through the sky

And cuts an enormous arc in her flight below the billowing clouds.

But the women, astonished by the omens and driving by madness,

Shout all together, and they seize the fire from deep within the hearths,  660

While others despoils the altars, throwing together the shoots and twigs

Upon the torches. Volcanus rages under trampled sheets

As fire runs through benches, and oars, and painted keels.

A messenger to Anchises' tomb and the seats of the theater --

'Tis goodly Eumelus -- bore news that the ships had been set aflame.  665

And they all themselves look back and see the dark ash floating upwards as a cloud.

And first is Ascanius, as happily as he was leading his cavalry games,

With the same speed doth he on horseback seek the camp

All thrown in uproar, and not can his breathless mentors keep him back.

"What madness is this, what now? Where now, whither do ye go?" he cries.  670

"Alas, O wretched women! 'Tis not an enemy or some deadly camp

Of the Argives ye burn, but your own hope! Lo! I am your

Ascanius!" 

                    -- His helm before his feet he cast, now empty,

Which in playtime he donned while engaged in pretend games of war.

Hastens now Æneas at the head of the battle train of the Teucri.  675

But yon women in fear throughout the scattered shores ran far and wide

In flight, and the forests and whatever hollowed rocks they in secret

Now seek out -- for all are ashamed of the deed and of their lives, now that a change

Has overcome them, and they recognize their kin as shaken was Juno from each breast.

But not for this reason do the flames and burning fires lose their

Immasterable fury: under the wet planks doth the flaxen tow

Burn alight and belches slow-rolling smoke, and the heat has burned away 

The keels, and the conflagration falls down the whole body of a ship,

And neither warrior's strength or river-water's floods are of any use.

Then pious Aeneas doth tear from his shoulders his fine raiment  685

And doth he call upon the gods for aid after stretching out his open hands:

"O Jove the father almighty: if not yet are we Trojans hated to a man,

If there yet still be thine ancient devotion and respect 

For human toils, grant that the fleet escape these flames

Now, O father, and save the tottering fate of the Teucri from total disaster.  690

Or if thou prefer'st it, send whatever survivors there be to death

With thy deadly lightning bolt, if I deserve it -- wipe us out with a wave of thy right hand!"

Scarcely had he cried such words as these when a dark storm-cloud

With rain-showers brimming swirled without delay and shook with thunderclaps

The high hills and level plains. From the airy aether above  695

Doth a storm-shower, the darkest cloud of swirling southerlies, drop its water

And full overtop are the decks of the shops, the half-charred timbers

Are soaked, and all the heat is extinguished until all keels

Are saved from the conflagration except for four lost to flames.

But father Aeneas stood dumbfounded by the harsh turn of events,  700

Now hither, now thither such enormous worries turn about within

His breast, shifting here, then there: should they reside in Sicilian lands,

Forget their destin'd orlays or still try for landfall on Italian shores?

Thereupon did old Nautes, one whom Tritonian Pallas

Once did teach and made him remarkable for his many skills --  705

For she would give him answers as to what the wrath of the gods foretold

Or what the order of fated events demanded to come to pass --

And he comforted Aeneas and began to speak with such words:

"Goddess-born, whither the fates drag back and forth again -- let us follow!

Whatever shall happen -- every fated chance must be overcome by endurance!  710

Thou hast Dardanian Acestes, he himself is of divine stock --

Bring him on as an ally of thy counsel and a join with him willingly.

Give to him those left over who would have manned the ships which are lost,

Those who are so very wearied of thy task and what thou hast undertak'n.

The long-aged old men, the women tired by the ocean's waves,  715

And whosoever among thee be frail or fearful of any peril --

Choose them, and let these tired folk build city walls within these lands.

They shall, if they agree upon it, name this city Acestes!"

Inflamed by such words as these from an older friend,

The heart within his breast was divided between these worries,  720

And now did dark Night conveyed in her chariot hold sway o'er the sky ahead,

When hence a face appears beneath the sky, in appearance

Like unto his father Anchises, which then poured forth such words:

"Son, once thou were more than my life whilst I yet lived,

Dear son, vexed by the fate of Ilium placed before thee,  725

I come hither at the bidding of Jove who did put out the fire

Among the fleet -- he, at last, took pity on thee from above.

Ready the most fine advice which old Nautes gives to thee:
Let youths be chosen, the bravest of hearts, and take them

To Italy. A hardy stock and harsh people must be warr'd against  730

By thee in Latium. But yet, before the gates of Dis thou must go

And the infernal homes there, and through deep Avernus seek out

To meet with me, my son. No, I shall not be confined

To impious Tartarus, where lie the grim shades -- no, the pleasant land

Of the blessed gather'd do I inhabit: Elysium. Hither shall the chaste Sibyl  735

Lead thee after shedding much blood of black sheep in sacrifice.

Then of all thy people shalt thou learn, and of the city walls giv'n to thee.

For now, farewell -- turneth dewy Night upon the midst of her course,

And the cruel rising sun breathes on me with steeds a-panting."

So had he spoken, and then fled like smoke into thin air.  740

Quoth Aeneas,

                         "Whither dost thou run? Whither do you hast'n?

Whom dost thou flee? Who bars thee from our embrace?"

Speaking thus, he breathes life anew into the ashes and near-dead embers,

And offers prayers, farro, and a censer of incense

To the Lar of Pergamum and the shrine of hoary Vesta.  745

And his allies he then summoned -- Acestes first of all --

And explained to them the bidding of Jove and the commands of his dear father

And what ideas have come into his mind and heart.

Hardly did they delay their planning, nor did Acestes refuse their requests.

They enroll the women to this new city and install a people willing  750

To live there, those whose hearts did not want for great glory.

The others rebuild the transoms and the beams gnawed by flames

They replace to make the ships sea-worthy, they fix oars and rigging --

Though are numbers are lessen'd, their valor for war flourisheth. 

In the meantime doth Aeneas mark out the city with a plow,  755

And lays out plans for homes -- here he bids be called "Ilium", and here

This neighborhood be "Troy". Trojan Acestes rejoices in this kingdom

And installs a city center to give laws to summoned fathers.

Then, in the neighborhood of the stars, is a temple founded

On the peak of Eryx, a monument to Idalian Venus; and a priest they  760

Added to the tomb of Anchises, and a holy grove as well was planted there. 

And so then for nine days all the people feasted, and on altars

Were sacrifices made. Now did calming winds lay like a soft quilt upon 

Quiet seas, and a frequently blowing southerly doth call them again to the sea.

Rising throughout the curved seashore is the loud sound of weeping,  765

As day and night they delay, locked arm-in-arm in each other's embrace.

And now the very mothers, the very one who once thought harsh

The face of the sea and its very name unbearable to hear,

Now wish to go and to endure every toil of sailing away.

Goodly Aeneas comforts these with friendly words  770

And tearfully commends them to his kinsman, Acestes.

Three bull calves to Eryx and a ewe lamb to the gods of Storms

He then bids be slaughtered and the mooring lines be cut. 

His head wreathed about his temples with leaves of an olive branch,

He stands afar on the prow and hold a wide-brim'd dish, from which the entrails  775

He throws forth into the waves follow'd by flowing wine outpouring.

And then follows a wind rising from the stern to help their passage.

In contest do his allies strike the sea and sweep the ocean waves.

But Venus in the meantime addresses Neptune, for she is roused

By such worries and pours these plaints from her breast:  780

"The heavy wrath of Juno and her n'er-satisfied heart

Drive me, O Neptune, to bring my prayers and requests to lower depths.

No length of day nor any devotion calms or soothes her, 

Nor doth she rest, but unbroken by Jove's command and the fates she remains.

Is it not enough that she hath wiped out a city in the midst of Phrygia  785

With her accursed hatred? That she hath dragged the remnants of Troy 

Through every punishment? She harries ashes and wearied bones!

Let her know the reasons she hath to uphold such madness as this.

Thou art thyself a witness to what she hath done above Libya's waves,

When she a-sudden rous'd that storm? The seas with the skies  790

She mixed and dared she in vain to rely on Aeolian gales within thy very kingdom!

Her latest wickedness was to drive the Trojan mothers 

To shamefully set aflame their fleet and nearly drown their ships

To leave their allies lost and left behind upon an alien land.  795

Whoever survives, I beg thee, let them raise their sails safely 

As they go through thy waves; let them reach Laurentine Thybris,

If what I ask hath already been permitted, if already the Parcae prepare their city-walls."

Then Saturn's son, master of the deepsea, spake these words:

"Thou, Cytherea, hast every faith in me and in my realm,  800

Whence thou didst thyself spring. I have deserved as much as well, for oft

Have I curbed and checked the rage and anger of the sky and sea.

Not in the least hath thine Aeneas been a small concern for me --

Let the Xanthus and Simoeis rivers bear witness -- For when Achilles 

Harried the Trojan ranks and pinned them 'gainst the walls of Troy,  805

He would have sent a thousand to their deaths, and groaned did the streams

All a-choked with the dead, and not could find Xanthus his winding way to wend

To the sea -- it was then that thy son faced the mighty son of Peleus,

And in this duel did neither gods favor Aeneas nor had he strength to match Achilles,

So I wrapped him up in a cloud, although I desired to o'erturn from the very foundations  810

The city-walls of lying Troy, walls built by mine own hands.

Even now, not all at hath changed my mind -- dispel these fears of thine.

As thou hast ask'd, safely he shall reach the harbor of Avernus.

But there shall be one for whom thou shalt look, one who will be lost --

One life to be given for the many."  815

When with these words he soothed the happy breast of the goddess,

The godly forebearer doth yoke his team with gold, placing the bridles

Specked with spittle and with stern hands he slacken'd the reins.

In his sea-green chariot doth he skim o'er the ocean-top,

And the waves give way and the swelling sea is scatter'd beneath  820

The thundering axle, and the clouds rush by as he speeds through the wide and empty sky.

Thereupon followed the many forms of his companions: enormous whales,

The elder band of Glaucon, and Inous Palaemon,

The swift-swimming Tritons and all the train of Phorcys,

And on the left-hand side went Thetis, and Melite, and maid'n Panopea,  825

And Nisaee, and Spio, and Thalia, and Cymodoce as well.

It was here that a seductive joy did in turn spread throughout

Father Aeneas' anxious mind. He bids all the masts be faster lifted,

The yard-arms to be stretched out for the billowing sails.

As one they all grab the ropes, and equally now the left  830

And now the right-hand sides of the sail they stretch to catch the wind; as one

They twist one side, and now they twist the other, and soon breezes bear the fleet.

First afore all others was Palinurus leading the closely-pack'd 

Crowd of ships, for to his course were the others bid to set their own. 

Now had dewy Night nearly touched the middle meta of the sky,  835

And in peaceful rest were limbs of the crew growing tired

As they lay scattered about beneath the oars and on hard benches,

When, slipping down from the stars of the airy aether,

Did Sleep scatter the gloomy mists and send away the shadows

In his quest for thee, Palinurus; for he bore thee sad dreams  840

Though thou didst not deserve them. The god took up his seat on the high deck,

And, taking on the form of Phorbas, poured from his mouth these words:

"Iasus' son, Palinurus, the ocean itself carries the fleet,

The becalmed breezes blow -- an hour can be spent on rest.

Put down thy head and rob thine a-wearied eyes of thy task.  845

I myself will -- for a time -- take up thy post for thee."

To him spake Palinurus who barely lifts up his gaze:

"Dost thou bid me to take no more heed of the face of the saltsea, 

The silent waves? Thou bid'st me put my trust in this monster?

Should I believe that Aeneas is safe upon these deceitful winds,  850

Since I have so many times before been tricked by a calm sky?"

Such words spake he, ever fast'ning fast to the tiller,

Which his hands never left, while his eyes he kept fixed upon the stars.

Lo! shaketh the god a branch wet and dripping with Lethean dew,

A sleep-inducing wand imbued with Stygian power, about both  855

The pilot's temples, and so, despite the man's caution, relaxes his swimming eyes. 

Scarcely had the unexpected wave of sleep first released his limbs,

And the god, falling upon him, cast him into the flowing waves below,

With part of the poopdeck pitching after the pilot,

Who headlong splashed amidst the sea and called oft in vain to his friends --  860

Sleep, however, took himself to wing and disappear'd into thin air. 

Sailing onward in its sea-course no slower than before, the fleet

Was unafraid and borne aloft by the oaths of father Neptune.

It was now that, so closely do the ships pass by the rocks of the Sirens,

Hard and rugged, white-seeming at distance from the sun-bleached bones  865

Which litter all about, that those rocks were harshly struck by the salt-surf,

So Father Aeneas awoke and sensed the ship sailing with a pilot lost;

And he himself righted the boat as it cut the nighttime waves,

And many were the groans wrenched from his heart, shocked at the fall of his friend:

"Oh, too much were thou trusting in a calm-seeming sky and sea!  870

Now naked shalt thou lie on an alien shore, O Palinurus!"