Far as he fhoots his towering head on high,
So deep in earth his fix'd foundations lie:
No lefs a ftorm the Trojan hero bears;
Thick meffages and loud complaints he hears,
And bandy'd words still beating on his ears.
650
Sighs, groans and tears, proclaim his inward pains,
But the firm purpose of his heart remains.
The wretched queen, pursued by cruel fate,
Begins at length the light of heaven to hate,
And loaths to live: then dire portents fhe fees,
To haften-on the death her foul decrees;
Strange to relate: for when, before the fhrine,
She pours, in facrifice, the purple wine,
The purple wine is turn'd to putrid blood,
And the white offer'd milk converts to mud.
This dire prefage, to her alone reveal'd,
From all, and ev'n her fifter, the conceal'd.
A marble temple stood within the grove,
Sacred to death, and to her murder'd love;
That honour'd chapel she had hung around
With fnowy fleeces, and with garlands crown'd:
Oft, when the visited this lonely dome,
Strange voices iffued from her husband's tomb:
She thought she heard him summon her away,
Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay.
Hourly 'tis heard, when, with a boding note,
The folitary fcreech-owl ftrains her throat:
And on a chimney's top, or turret's height,
With fongs obfcene difturbs the filence of the night.
Befides, old prophecies augment her fears,
And ftern Æneas in her dreams appears
Difdainful as by day: fhe feems alone
To wander in her fleep, through ways unknown,
Guidelefs and dark: or, in a defert plain,
To feck her fubjects, and to seek in vain.
Like Pentheus, when, distracted with his fear,
He faw two funs, and double Thebes appear:
Or mad Oreftes, when his mother's ghost
Full in his face infernal torches tofs'd;
And fhook her fnaky locks: he fhuns the fight, 685
Flies o'er the stage, furpriz'd with mortal fright;
The furies guard the door, and intercept his flight.
Now, finking underneath a load of grief,
From death alone the feeks her laft relief:
The time and means refolv'd within her breaft,
She to her mournful fifter thus addrefs'd
(Diffembling hope, her cloudy front fhe clears,
And a falfe vigour in her eyes appears):
Rejoice, the faid, instructed from above,
My lover I fhall gain, or lose my love.
Nigh rifing Atlas, next the falling fun,
Long tracts of Ethiopian climates run :
There a Maffylian princess I have found,
Honour'd for age, for magic arts renown'd;
Th' Hefperian temple was her trusted care;
'Twas the fupply'd the wakeful dragon's fare.
She poppy-feeds in honey taught to steep,
Reclaim'd his rage, and footh'd him into fleep.
She watch'd the golden fruit; her charms unbind
The chains of love, or fix them on the mind.
She ftops the torrents, leaves the channel dry;
Repels the stars, and backward bears the sky.
The yawning earth rebellows to her call,
Pale ghofts afcend, and mountain ashes fall.
Witness, ye gods, and thou my better part,
How loth I am to try this impious art!
Within the fecret court, with filent care,
Erect a lofty pile, expos'd in air:
Hang on the topmaft part the Trojan vest,
Spoils, arms and presents of my faithlefs guest.
Next, under thefe, the bridal bed be plac'd,
Where I my ruin in his arms embrac'd:
All relics of the wretch are doom'd to fire,
For fo the priestess and her charms require.
Thus far fhe faid, and farther speech forbears;
A mortal palene in her face appears :
Yet the miftruftlefs Anna could not find
The fecret funeral in thefe rites defign'd,
Nor thought fo dire a rage poffefs'd her mind.
Unknowing of a train conceal'd fo well,
She fear'd no worse than when Sichæus fell:
Therefore obeys. The fatal pile they rear
Within the fecret court, expos'd in air.
The cloven holms and pines are heap'd on high;
And garlands on the hollow spaces lie.
Sad cyprefs, vervain, eugh, compose the wreath,
And every baleful green denoting death.
The queen, determin'd to the fatal deed,
The spoils and sword he left, in order spread:
And the man's image on the nuptial bed.
And now (the facred altars plac'd around) The priestess enters, with her hair unbound, And thrice invokes the powers below the ground. Night, Erebus, and Chaos, fhe proclaims, And threefold Hecate, with her hundred names, 740 And three Dianas: next she sprinkles round, With feign'd Avernian drops, the hallow'd ground: Culls hoary fimples, found by Phoebe's light, With brazen fickles reap'd at noon of night. Then mixes baleful juices in the bowl, And cuts the forehead of a new-born foal; Robbing the mother's love. The deftin'd queen Obferves, affifting at the rites obfcene:
A leaven'd cake in her devoted hands
She holds, and next the highest altar ftands:
One tender foot was shod, her other bare,
Girt was her gather'd gown, and loose her hair.
Thus drefs'd, the fummon'd, with her dying breath,
The heavens and planets, confcious of her death;
And every power, if any rules above,
Who minds, or who revenges, injur'd love.
'Twas dead of night, when weary bodies close
Their eyes in balmy fleep and foft repose:
The winds no longer whisper through the woods,
Nor murmuring tides disturb the gentle floods.
The ftars in filent order mov'd around,
And peace, with downy wings, was brooding on the ground.
The flocks and herds, and particolour'd fowl,
Which haunt the woods, or swim the weedy pool,
Stretch'd on the quiet earth fecurely lay,
Forgetting the past labours of the day.
All elfe of nature's common gift partake;
Unhappy Dido was alone awake.
Nor fleep nor ease the furious queen can find;
Sleep fled her eyes, as quiet fled her mind.
Defpair, and rage, and love, divide her heart:
Despair and
rage had fome, but love the greater part.
Then thus fhe faid within her fecret mind:
What fhall I do; what fuccour can I find?
Become a fuppliant to Hiarba's pride,
And take my turn, to court and be deny'd!
Shall I with this ungrateful Trojan go,
Forfake an empire, and attend a foe?
Himself I refug'd, and his train reliev'd;
'Tis true: but am I fure to be receiv'd?
Can gratitude in Trojan fouls have place?
Laomedon flill lives in all his race!
Then, fhall I fcek alone the churlish crew,
And with my fleet their flying fails pursue ?
What force have I but those, whom scarce before 785
I drew reluctant from their native fhore?
Will they again embark at my desire,
Once more sustain the feas, and quit their fecond Tyre?
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