The gates and columns were with garlands crown'd, And blood of victim beasts enrich the ground.
He, when he heard a fugitive could move The Tyrian princess, who difdain'd his love, His breast with fury burn'd, his eyes with fire; Mad with defpair, impatient with defire. Then on the facred altars pouring wine, He thus with prayers implor'd his fire divine: Great Jove, propitious to the Moorish race, Who feast on painted beds, with offerings grace Thy temples, and adore thy power divine With blood of victims, and with sparkling wine; Seeft thou not this? or do we fear in vain Thy boafted thunder, and thy thoughtless reign? 305 Do thy broad hands the forky lightnings lance, Thine are the bolts, or the blind work of chance? A wandering woman builds, within our state, A little town, bought at an easy rate; She pays me homage, and my grants allow A narrow space of Libyan lands to plough. Yet, fcorning me, by paffion blindly led, Admits a banish'd Trojan to her bed : And now this other Paris, with his train Of conquer'd cowards, muft in Afric reign!
(Whom, what they are, their looks and garb confess;
Their locks with oil perform'd, their Libyan dress :)
He takes the spoil, enjoys the princely dame;
And I, rejected I, adore an empty name.
His vows, in haughty terms, he thus preferr'd, 320 And held his altar's horns: the mighty thunderer heard, Then
Then caft his eyes on Carthage, where he found
The luftful pair, in lawless pleasure drown'd.
Loft in their loves, infenfible of shame,
And both forgetful of their better fame.
He calls Cyllenius; and the god attends ;
By whom his menacing command he fends :
Go, mount the western winds, and cleave the sky;
Then, with a swift defcent, to Carthage fly:
There find the Trojan chief, who wastes his days 330 In flothful riot and inglorious ease,
Nor minds the future city, giv'n by fate;
To him this meffage from my mouth relate :
Not fo, fair Venus hop'd, when twice the won
Thy life with prayers; nor promis'd fuch a fon. 335
Her's was a hero, deftin'd to command
A martial race; and rule the Latian land.
Who fhould his ancient line from Teucer draw;
And, on the conquer'd world, impose the law.
If glory cannot move a mind fo mean,
Nor future praife from fading pleasure wean,
Yet why fhould he defraud his son of fame;
And grudge the Romans their immortal name!
What are his vain designs? what hopes he more,
From his long lingering on a hoftile shore?
Regardless to redeem his honour loft,
And for his race to gain th' Aufonian coaft!
Bid him with speed the Tyrian court forfake;
With this command the flumbering warrior wake.
Hermes obeys; with golden pinions binds
His flying feet, and mounts the western winds:
And whether o'er the seas or earth he flies,
With rapid force they bear him down the skies.
But first he grafps, within his awful hand,
The mark of fovereign power, his magic wand:
With this he draws the ghosts from hollow graves,
With this he drives them down the Stygian waves;
With this he feals in fleep the wakeful fight ;
And eyes, though clos'd in death, restores to light.
Thus arm'd, the god begins his airy race,
360
And drives the racking clouds along the liquid space.
Now fees the tops of Atlas, as he flies,
Whofe brawny back fupports the starry skies;
Atlas, whofe head, with piny forefts crown'd,
Is beaten by the winds, with foggy vapours bound. 365
Snows hide his fhoulders; from beneath his chin
The founts of rolling ftreams their race begin :
A beard of ice on his large breast depends :
Here, pois'd upon his wings, the god descends:
Then, refted thus, he from the towering height 370
Plung'd downward, with precipitated flight:
Lights on the feas, and fkims along the flood:
As water-fowl, who feek their fishy food,
Lefs, and yet lefs, to diftant profpect fhow,
By turns they dance aloft, and dive below:
Like thefe, the fteerage of his wings he plies,
And near the furface of the water flies :
Till, having pafs'd the feas, and crofs'd the fands,
He clos'd his wings, and stoop'd on Libyan lands:
Where shepherds once were hous'd in homely fheds, 380
Now towers within the clouds advance their heads.
Arriving there, he found the Trojan prince
New ramparts raising for the town's defence:
A purple scarf, with gold embroider'd o'er
(Queen Dido's gift), about his wafte he wore;
A fword with glittering gems diverfify'd,
For ornament, not use, hung idly by his fide.
Then thus, with winged words, the god began
(Refuming his own fhape): Degenerate man,
Thou woman's property, what mak’st thou here,
These foreign walls and Tyrian towers to rear?
Forgetful of thy own? All-powerful Jove,
Who fways the world below, and heaven above,
Has fent me down, with this fevere command :
What means thy lingering in the Libyan land?
If glory cannot move a mind fo mean,
Nor future praife, from flitting pleasure wean,
Regard the fortunes of thy rifing heir;
The promis'd crown let young Afcanius wear;
To whom th' Aufonian fceptre and the state
Of Rome's imperial name is ow'd by fate.
So fpoke the god; and speaking took his flight,
Involv'd in clouds; and vanish'd out of fight.
The pious prince was feiz'd with fudden fear; Mute was his tongue, and upright stood his hair; 405 Revolving in his mind the ftern command,
He longs to fly, and loaths the charming land.
What should he fay, or how should he begin,
What courfe, alas! remains, to fteer between
Th' offended lover, and the powerful queen!
VOL. VI.
This way, and that, he turns his anxious mind,
And all expedients tries, and none can find:
Fix'd on the deed, but doubtful of the means;
After long thought, to this advice he leans :
Three chiefs he calls, commands them to repair 415
The fleet, and fhip their men with filent care:
Some plaufible pretence he bids them find,
To colour what in fecret he defign'd.
Himself, meantime, the fofteft hours would choose,
Before the love-fick lady heard the news;
And move her tender mind, by flow degrees,
To fuffer what the fovereign power decrees:
Jove will infpire him, when, and what to say.
They hear with pleasure, and with hafte obey.
But foon the queen perceives the thin disguise: 425
(What arts can blind a jealous woman's eyes?)
She was the first to find the secret fraud,
Before the fatal news was blaz'd abroad,
Love, the first motions of the lover hears,
Quick to prefage, and ev'n in fafety fears.
Nor impious fame was wanting, to report
The fhips repair'd; the Trojans thick refort,
And purpose to forfake the Tyrian court.
Frantic with fear, impatient of the wound,
And impotent of mind, the roves the city round: 435
Lefs wild the Bacchanalian dames appear,
When, from afar, their nightly god they hear, And howl about the hills, and shake the wreathy spear. At length fhe finds the dear perfidious man; Prevents his form'd excufe, and thus began:
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