My son, my strength, whose mighty power alone
Controuls the Thunderer on his awful throne,
To thee thy much-afflicted mother flies,

And on thy succour and thy faith relies.
Thou know'st, my son, how Jove's revengeful wife,
By force and fraud, attempts thy brother's life;
And often hast thou mourned with me his pains.
Him Dido now with blandishment detains;
But I suspect the town where Juno reigns.
For this, 'tis needful to prevent her art,

And fire with love the proud Phoenician's heart—
A love so violent, so strong, so sure,

That neither age can change, nor art can cure.
How this may be performed, now take my mind:
Ascanius, by his father is designed

To come, with presents laden, from the port,
To gratify the queen, and gain the court.
I mean to plunge the boy in pleasing sleep,
And, ravished, in Idalian bowers to keep,
Or high Cythera, that the sweet deceit
May pass unseen, and none prevent the cheat.
Take thou his form and shape. I beg the grace,
But only for a night's revolving space,
Thyself a boy, assume a boy's dissembled face;
That when, amidst the fervour of the feast,
The Tyrian hugs and fonds thee on her breast,
And with sweet kisses in her arms constrains,
Thou may'st infuse thy venom in her veins."
The god of love obeys, and sets aside
His bow and quiver, and his plumy pride;
He walks Iülus in his mother's sight,
And in the sweet resemblance takes delight.
The goddess then to young Ascanius flies,
And in a pleasing slumber seals his eyes:
Lulled in her lap, amidst a train of Loves,
She gently bears him to her blissful groves,

}

Then with a wreath of myrtle crowns his head,
And softly lays him on a flowery bed.
Cupid meantime assumed his form and face,
Following Achates with a shorter pace,
And brought the gifts. The queen already sate
Amidst the Trojan lords, in shining state,
High on a golden bed: her princely guest
Was next her side; * in order sate the rest.
Then canisters with bread are heaped on high;
The attendants water for their hands supply,
And, having washed, with silken towels dry.
Next fifty handmaids in long order bore
The censers, and with fumes the gods adore:
Then youths and virgins, twice as many, join
To place the dishes, and to serve the wine.
The Tyrian train, admitted to the feast,
Approach, and on the painted couches rest.
All on the Trojan gifts with wonder gaze,
But view the beauteous boy with more amaze,
His rosy-coloured cheeks, his radiant eyes,
His motions, voice, and shape, and all the god's dis-
guise;

Nor pass unpraised the vest and veil divine,
Which wandering foliage and rich flowers entwine.
But, far above the rest, the royal dame,

(Already doomed to love's disastrous flame,)
With eyes insatiate, and tumultuous joy,
Beholds the presents, and admires the boy.
The guileful god, about the hero long,
With children's play, and false embraces, hung;
Then sought the queen: she took him to her arms
With greedy pleasure, and devoured his charms.
Unhappy Dido little thought what guest,
How dire a god, she drew so near her breast.

* Note III.

But he, not mindless of his mother's prayer,
Works in the pliant bosom of the fair,

And moulds her heart anew, and blots her former

care.

The dead is to the living love resigned;

And all Eneas enters in her mind.

Now, when the rage of hunger was appeased, The meat removed, and every guest was pleased, The golden bowls with sparkling wine are crowned, And through the palace cheerful cries resound. From gilded roofs depending lamps display Nocturnal beams, that emulate the day.

A golden bowl, that shone with gems divine,
The queen commanded to be crowned with wine-
The bowl that Belus used, and all the Tyrian line.)
Then, silence through the hall proclaimed, she
spoke :-

"O hospitable Jove! we thus invoke,

With solemn rites, thy sacred name and power;
Bless to both nations this auspicious hour!
So may the Trojan and the Tyrian line
In lasting concord from this day combine.
Thou, Bacchus, god of joys and friendly cheer,
And gracious Juno, both be present here!
And you, my lords of Tyre, your vows address
To heaven with mine, to ratify the peace."
The goblet then she took, with nectar crowned,
(Sprinkling the first libations on the ground,)
And raised it to her mouth with sober grace,
Then, sipping, offered to the next in place.
'Twas Bitias whom she called-a thirsty soul;
He took the challenge, and embraced the bowl,
With pleasure swilled the gold, nor ceased to draw,
Till he the bottom of the brimmer saw.

The goblet goes around: Iöpas brought
His golden lyie, and sung what ancient Atlas
taught-

The various labours of the wandering moon,
And whence proceed the eclipses of the sun;
The original of men and beasts; and whence
The rains arise, and fires their warmth dispense,
And fixed and erring stars dispose their influence;
What shakes the solid earth; what cause delays
The summer nights, and shortens winter days.
With peals of shouts the Tyrians praise the song;
Those peals are echoed by the Trojan throng.
The unhappy queen with talk prolonged the night,
And drank large draughts of love with vast delight;
Of Priam much inquired, of Hector more;
Then asked what arms the swarthy Memnon wore,
What troops he landed on the Trojan shore;
The steeds of Diomede varied the discourse,
And fierce Achilles, with his matchless force;
At length, as Fate and her ill stars required,
To hear the series of the war desired.
"Relate at large, my god-like guest," she said,
"The Grecian stratagems, the town betrayed:
The fatal issue of so long a war,

Your flight, your wanderings, and your woes, declare;
For, since on every sea, on every coast,

Your men have been distressed, your navy tossed,
Seven times the sun has either tropic viewed,
The winter banished, and the spring renewed."

NOTES

ON

ÆNEÏS, BOOK I.

Note I.

The realms of ocean, and the fields of air,
Are mine, not his.-P. 237.

Poetically speaking, the fields of air are under the command of Juno, and her vicegerent olus. Why then does Neptune call them his? I answer, Because, being god of the seas, Æolus could raise no tempest in the atmosphere above them without his leave. But why does Juno address to her own substitute? I answer, He had an immediate power over the winds, whom Juno desires to employ on her revenge. That power was absolute by land; which Virgil plainly insinuates: for, when Boreas and his brethren were let loose, he says at first, terras turbine perflant---then adds, Incubuere mari. To raise a tempest on the sea, was usurpation on the prerogative of Neptune, who had given him no leave, and therefore was enraged at his attempt. I may also add, that they who are in a passion, as Neptune then was, are apt to assume to themselves more than is properly their due.