What, not contented with our oxen flain,
Dare you with heaven an impious war maintain, 325
And drive the harpies from their native reign?
Heed, therefore, what I fay, and keep in mind
What Jove decrees, what Phoebus has defign'd:
And I, the Fury's queen, from both relate :
You feek th' Italian fhores, foredoom'd by fate: 330
Th' Italian fhores are granted you to find,
And a fafe paffage to the port affign'd.
But know, that ere your promis'd walls
My curfes fhall feverely be fulfill'd.
Fierce famine is your lot, for this misdeed,
Reduc'd to grind the plates on which you feed.
She faid, and to the neighbouring forest flew :
Our courage fails us, and our fears renew.
Hopeless to win by war, to prayers we fall,
And on th' offended harpies humbly call.
And whether gods or birds obfcene they were,
Our yows for pardon and for peace prefer.
But old Anchifes, offering facrifice,
And lifting up to heaven his hands and eyes,
Ador'd the greater gods: Avert, faid he,
These omens; render vain this prophecy;
And, from th' impending curfe, a pious people free.
Thus having faid, he bids us put to fea;
We loose from shore our hausers and obey,
And foon, with fwelling fails, pursue our watery way.
Amidst our course Zacynthian woods appear;
And next by rocky Neritos we fteer:
Still are you Hector's, or is Hector fled,
And his remembrance lost in Pyrrhus' bed?
With eves dejected, in a lowly tone,
After a medeit paule, the thus begun :
On only happy maid of Pam's race,
Whom deadh de he'd you the toes embrace !
O tell me how his mother's lofs he bears,
What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years,
How much of Hector in his face appears?
She spoke: and mix'd her speech with mournful cries :
And fruitless tears came trickling from her eyes.
At length her lord defcends upon the plain,
In pomp attended with a numerous train :
Receives his friends, and to the city leads,
And tears of joy amidst his welcome sheds.
Proceeding on, another Troy I fee;
Or, in lefs compafs, Troy's epitome.
A rivulet by the name of Xanthus ran :
And I embrace the Scaan gate again.
My friends in porticos were entertain'd,
And feafts and pleafures through the city reign'd.
The tables fill'd the fpacious hall around,
And golden bowls with sparkling wine were crown'd.
Two days we pass'd in mirth, till friendly gales,
Blown from the south, supply'd our swelling fails.
Then to the royal feer I thus began:
O thou who know'ft, beyond the reach of man,
The laws of heaven, and what the ftars decree, 460
Whom Phoebus taught unerring prophecy,
From his own tripod, and his holy tree:
Skill'd in the wing'd inhabitants of air,
What auspices their notes and flights declare :
O fay; for all religious rites portend
A happy voyage, and a profperous end;
And every power and omen of the sky
Direct my course for deftin'd Italy.
We fly from Ithaca's detefted fhore,
And curfe the land which dire Ulyffes bore.
At length Leucate's cloudy top appears,
And the fun's temple, which the failor fears.
Refolv'd to breathe a while from labour past,
Our crooked anchors from the prow we caft,
And joyful to the little city haste.
Here fafe, beyond our hopes, our vows we pay
To Jove, the guide and patron of our way.
The customs of our country we pursue,
And Trojan games on Actian fhores renew.
*Our youth their naked limbs besmear with oil,
And exercife the wreftlers noble toil.
Pleas'd to have fail'd fo long before the wind,
And left fo many Grecian towns behind.
The fun had now fulfill'd his annual course,
And Boreas on the feas difplay'd his force:
I fix'd upon the temple's lofty door
The brazen fhield which vanquish'd Abas bore:
The verfe beneath my name and action speaks,
These arms Æneas took from conquering Greeks.
Then I command to weigh; the feamen ply
Their fweeping oars, the fmoking billows fly.
The fight of high Phæacia foon we loft,
And fkim'd along Epirus' rocky coaft.
Then to Chaonia's port our course we bend,
And, landed, to Buthrotus, heights afcend.
Here wondrous things were loudly blaz'd by fame, 380 How Helenus reviv'd the Trojan name,
And reign'd in Greece: That Priam's captive fon
Succeeded Pyrrhus in his bed and throne.
And fair Andromache, restor'd by fate,
Once more was happy in a Trojan mate.
I leave my gallies riding in the port,
And long to fee the new Dardanian court.
By chance, the mournful queen, before the gate,
Then folemniz'd her former husband's fate.
Green altars, rais'd of turf, with gifts the crown'd,
And facred priests in order stand around,
And thrice the name of hapless Hector found.
The grove itfelf resembles Ida's wood,
And Simois feem'd the well-diffembled flood.
But when, at nearer distance, she beheld
My fhining armour, and my Trojan shield,
Astonish'd at the fight, the vital heat
Forfakes her limbs, her veins no longer beat:
She faints, the falls; and, fcarce recovering ftrength,
Thus, with a faultering tongue, fhe fpeaks at lengths
Are you alive, O goddess-born! she said,
-Or if a ghost, then where is Hector's shade?
At this the caft a loud and frightful cry:
With broken words I made this brief reply:
All of me that remains appears in fight,
I live; if living be to loath the light.
No phantom; but I drag a wretched life;
My fate refembling that of Hector's wife.
What have you fuffer'd fince you loft your lord?
By what strange bleffings are you now restor❜d?
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