Aeneid

Virgil

Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.

The King, sore troubled by these portents, sought
oracular wisdom of his sacred sire,
Faunus, the fate-revealer, where the groves
stretch under high Albunea, and her stream
roars from its haunted well, exhaling through
vast, gloomful woods its pestilential air.
Here all Oenotria's tribes ask oracles
in dark and doubtful days: here, when the priest
has brought his gifts, and in the night so still,
couched on spread fleeces of the offered flock,
awaiting slumber lies, then wondrously
a host of flitting shapes he sees, and hears
voices that come and go: with gods he holds
high converse, or in deep Avernian gloom
parleys with Acheron. Thither drew near
Father Latinus, seeking truth divine.
Obedient to the olden rite, he slew
a hundred fleecy sheep, and pillowed lay
upon their outstretched skins. Straightway a voice
out of the lofty forest met his prayer.
“Seek not in wedlock with a Latin lord
to join thy daughter, O my son and seed!
Beware this purposed marriage! There shall come
sons from afar, whose blood shall bear our name
starward; the children of their mighty loins,
as far as eve and morn enfold the seas,
shall see a subject world beneath their feet
submissive lie.” This admonition given
Latinus hid not. But on restless wing
rumor had spread it, when the men of Troy
along the river-bank of mounded green
their fleet made fast.Aeneas and his chiefs,
with fair Iulus, under spreading boughs
of one great tree made resting-place, and set
the banquet on. Thin loaves of altar-bread
along the sward to bear their meats were laid
(such was the will of Jove), and wilding fruits
rose heaping high, with Ceres' gift below.
Soon, all things else devoured, their hunger turned
to taste the scanty bread, which they attacked
with tooth and nail audacious, and consumed
both round and square of that predestined leaven.
“Look, how we eat our tables even!” cried
Iulus, in a jest. Such was the word
which bade their burdens fall. From his boy's lip
the father caught this utterance of Fate,
silent with wonder at the ways of Heaven;
then swift he spoke: “Hail! O my destined shore,
protecting deities of Ilium, hail!
Here is our home, our country here! This day
I publish the mysterious prophecy
by Sire Anchises given: ‘My son,’ said he,
‘When hunger in strange lands shall bid devour
the tables of thy banquet gone, then hope
for home, though weary, and take thought to build
a dwelling and a battlement.’ Behold!
This was our fated hunger! This last proof
will end our evil days. Up, then! For now
by morning's joyful beam we will explore
what men, what cities, in this region be,
and, leaving ship, our several errands ply.
Your gift to Jove outpour! Make thankful prayer
unto Anchises' shade! To this our feast
bring back the flowing wine!” Thereat he bound
his forehead with green garland, calling loud
upon the Genius of that place, and Earth,
eldest of names divine; the Nymphs he called,
and river-gods unknown; his voice invoked
the night, the omen-stars through night that roll.
Jove, Ida's child, and Phrygia's fertile Queen:
he called his mother from Olympian skies,
and sire from Erebus. Lo, o'er his head
three times unclouded Jove omnipotent
in thunder spoke, and, with effulgent ray
from his ethereal tract outreaching far,
shook visibly the golden-gleaming air.
Swift, through the concourse of the Trojans, spread
news of the day at hand when they should build
their destined walls. So, with rejoicing heart
at such vast omen, they set forth a feast
with zealous emulation, ranging well
the wine-cups fair with many a garland crowned.