The Aeneid (8 page)

210         His men went briskly to work preparing the coming feast.
                They flayed the hide off the ribs and exposed the flesh. Some cut
                it into quivering slices and speared it on spits. Others laid out
                cauldrons of water on the shore and lit fires. Then at last they
                ate, and recovered their strength, lying on the grass and taking
                their fill of old wine and rich venison. When their hunger was
                satisfied and the remains of the feast removed, they talked at
                length about their missing comrades, not knowing whether to
                hope or fear, wondering whether they were still alive or whether
                at that very moment they were drawing their last breath and
220         beyond all calling. Most of all did Aeneas, who loved his men,
                mourn to himself the loss of eager Orontes and Amycus and the
                cruel death of Lycus, then brave Gyas, and brave Cloanthus.

                Now the feast was ended and Jupiter was looking down from
                the height of heaven on the sea flying with sails and the land far
                beneath him, on the shores of the seas and the far-spread
                peoples, when suddenly he stopped in his survey at the highest
                point of the sky and fixed his eyes upon the kingdom of Libya.
                Even as he was turning over in his mind all the suffering that he
                saw, his daughter Venus came to him, her shining eyes brimming
230         with tears, and spoke with a sadness greater than his own: ‘You
                who rule the affairs of gods and men with your eternal law and
                at whose lightning we are all afraid, what great harm has my
                son Aeneas been able to do to you? What crime have the Trojans
                committed that they should suffer all this loss of life and the
                whole world be closed to them for the sake of Italy? Did you
                not promise that with the rolling years there would come a time
                when from this stock the Romans would arise? From this blood
                of Teucer, recalled to Italian soil, there would come leaders of
                men who would hold power over every land and sea. O father,
                father, has some argument changed your mind? As for me, I
                used to console myself with this for the cruel fall and sack of
240         Troy, by weighing one destiny against another. But unrelieved
                misfortune is now hounding these men from disaster to disaster.
                
O great king, what end do you set to their labours? The Greeks
                were all around Antenor, but he escaped them, made his way
                safely into the Illyrian Gulf and the heartlands of the kingdom
                of the Liburnians, and then went beyond the mouth of the
                Timavus. From there with a great roar from inside the mountain,
                a sea of water bursts out of nine mouths and covers the fields
                with a sounding ocean. But in this place he founded the city of
                Patavium as a home for his Trojans and gave them a name.
                There he dedicated the arms with which he fought at Troy and
250         there he now lives in settled peace and quiet. But as for us, your
                own children, to whom you grant a place in the citadel of
                heaven, we lose our ships. It is unspeakable. We are betrayed
                and kept far away from the shores of Italy because there is one
                who hates us. Is this our reward for piety and obedience? Is this
                how you bring us to our kingdom?’

                The Father of Gods and Men, looking at his daughter with
                the smile that clears the sky and dispels the storms, kissed her
                lightly on the lips, and said: ‘Spare yourself these fears, my
                lady from Cythera. You can be sure that the destiny of your
                descendants remains unchanged. You will see the city of Lavinium
260         and its promised walls. You will take great-hearted Aeneas
                up to the stars of heaven. No argument changes my mind. But
                now, since this anxiety is gnawing at you, I shall tell you more,
                unrolling for you the secrets of the scroll of the Fates. He will
                wage a great war in Italy and crush its fierce tribes. He will build
                walls for his people and establish their way of life, until a third
                summer has seen him reigning in Latium and a third winter has
                passed after the subjection of the Rutulians. But the reign of his
                son Ascanius, who now receives the second name Iulus (it was
                Ilus while the kingdom of Ilium still stood), shall last while the
270         months of thirty long years revolve, and he shall transfer his
                kingdom from its seat at Lavinium and build a city with powerful
                fortifications at Alba Longa. Here the rule of the race of
                Hector will last for three hundred long years until Ilia the
                priestess queen, heavy with the seed of Mars, shall give birth to
                twin sons. Then Romulus shall receive the people, wearing with
                joy the tawny hide of the wolf which nursed him. The walls he
                builds will be the walls of Mars and he shall give his own name
                
to his people, the Romans. On them I impose no limits of time
                or place. I have given them an empire that will know no end.
280         Even angry Juno, who is now wearying sea and land and sky
                with her terrors, will come to better counsel and join with me
                in cherishing the people of Rome, the rulers of the world, the
                race that wears the toga. So it has been decreed. There will come
                a day, as the years glide by, when the house of Assaracus will
                reduce Achilles’ Pthia and glorious Mycenae to slavery and will
                conquer and rule the city of Argos. From this noble stock there
                will be born a Trojan Caesar to bound his empire by Oceanus
                at the limits of the world, and his fame by the stars. He will be
                called Julius, a name passed down to him from the great Iulus.
290         In time to come, have no fear, you will receive him in the sky,
                laden with the spoils of the East. He too will be called upon in
                prayer. Then wars will be laid aside and the years of bitterness
                will be over. Silver-haired Truth and Vesta, and Romulus Quirinus
                with his brother Remus, will sit dispensing justice. The
                dread Gates of War with their tight fastenings of steel will then
                be closed, and godless Strife will sit inside them on his murderous
                armour roaring hideously from bloody mouth, hands shackled
                behind his back with a hundred bands of bronze.’

                So spoke Jupiter, and he sent down Mercury, the son of Maia,
                to make the lands and the citadel of the new city of Carthage
                hospitable to the Trojans, in case Dido, in her ignorance of
300         destiny, should bar her country to them. Through the great
                expanse of air he flew, wielding his wings like oars, and soon
                alighted on the shores of Libya. There he lost no time in carrying
                out the commands of Jupiter, and in accordance with the divine
                will the Carthaginians laid aside their fiery temper. Most of all
                the queen took into her heart a feeling of quiet and kindness
                towards the Trojans.

                But all that night the dutiful Aeneas was turning many things
                over in his mind. As soon as life-giving morning came, he decided
                to go out and explore this new land and bring back to his men
                a true account of the shores to which the winds had driven him,
                and the beasts and men who lived there, if there were any men,
310         for he saw no signs of cultivation. So, leaving his ships hidden
                in the wooded cove under the overhanging rocks, and shut in
                
on every side by trees and quivering shade, he set out alone with
                Achates, gripping two broad-bladed steel spears in his hand. As
                he walked through the middle of the wood, his mother came to
                meet him looking like a Spartan girl out hunting, wearing the
                dress of a Spartan girl and carrying her weapons, or like the
                Thracian Harpalyce, as she wearies horses with her running and
                outstrips the swift current of the river Hebrus. She had a light
                bow hanging from her shoulders in hunting style, her hair was
320         unbound and streaming in the wind and her flowing dress was
                caught up above the knee. ‘Hey there, soldiers,’ she called out
                to them, ‘do you happen to have seen one of my sisters wandering
                about here or in full cry after the foaming boar? She was
                wearing a spotted lynx skin and had a quiver hanging from
                her belt.’

                So spoke Venus, and Venus’ son so began his reply: ‘I have
                neither seen nor heard any of your sisters. But how am I to
                address a girl like you? Your face is not the face of a mortal,
                and you do not speak like a human being. Surely you must be a
                goddess? Are you Diana, sister of Apollo? Are you one of the
330         sister nymphs? Be gracious to us, whoever you may be, and
                lighten our distress. Tell us what sky this is we find ourselves at
                last beneath. What shore of the world is this on which we now
                wander, tossed here by the fury of wind and wave? We do not
                know the place. We do not know the people. Tell us and many
                a victim will fall by my right hand before your altars.’

                Venus replied: ‘I am sure I deserve no such honour. Tyrian
                girls all carry the quiver and wear purple boots with this high
                ankle binding. This is a Phoenician kingdom you are looking at.
                We are Tyrians. This is the city of the people of Agenor, but the
                land belongs to the Libyans, a race not easy to handle in war.
340         Dido, who came from the city of Tyre to escape her brother,
                holds sway here. There was a crime long ago. It is a long and
                winding story, but I shall trace its outlines for you. Her father
                had given her in marriage to Sychaeus, the wealthiest of the
                Phoenicians. They were joined with all the due rites of a first
                marriage and great was the love the poor queen bore for him.
                But the kingdom of Tyre was ruled by her brother Pygmalion,
                the vilest of criminals. A mad passion came between the two
                
men. In blind lust for his gold the godless Pygmalion attacked
350         him without warning, ambushing him at the altar. With no
                thought for his sister’s love he killed Sychaeus and for a long
                time concealed what he had done. Dido was sick with love and
                he deceived her with false hopes and empty pretences. But one
                night there appeared to her in a dream the very ghost of her
                unburied husband. He lifted up his face, pale with the strange
                pallor of the dead, and, baring the sword wounds on his breast,
                he pointed to the altar where he had been killed and revealed
                the whole horror of the crime that had been hidden in their
                house. He then urged her to escape with all speed from their
                native land, and to help her on her wanderings he showed
                her where to find an ancient treasure buried in the earth, an
360         incalculable weight of silver and gold. This moved Dido to plan
                her escape and gather followers, men driven by savage hatred
                or lively fear of the tyrant. They seized some ships which happened
                to be ready for sea. They loaded them with the gold and
                sailed away with the wealth Pygmalion had coveted. The woman
                led the whole undertaking. When they arrived at the place where
                you will now see the great walls and rising citadel of the new
                city of Carthage, they bought a piece of land called the “Byrsa”,
                the animal’s hide, as large an area as they could include within
                the hide of a bull. But now tell me, who are you? What country
370         have you sailed from? Where are you making for?’

                In reply to her questions Aeneas drew a great sigh from the
                bottom of his heart and said: ‘O goddess, if I were to start at the
                beginning and retrace our whole story, and if you had the time
                to listen to the annals of our suffering, before I finish the doors
                of Olympus would close and the Evening Star would lay the day
                to rest. We come from the ancient city of Troy, if the name of
                Troy has ever reached your ears. We have sailed many seas and
                by the chance of the winds we have been driven ashore here in
                Libya. I am Aeneas, known for my devotion. I carry with me on
                my ships the gods of my home, the Penates, wrested from my
                enemies, and my fame has reached beyond the skies. I am
380         searching for my fatherland in Italy. My descent is from highest
                Jupiter. With my goddess mother to show the way, I embarked
                upon the Phrygian sea with twenty ships, following the destiny
                
which had been given to me, and now a bare seven of them
                remain, and these torn to pieces by wind and wave. I am a
                helpless stranger, driven out of Europe and out of Asia, tramping
                the desert wastes of Libya.’