The line of fires is scat and broke,
And thick and murky rolls the smoke.
Give leave to seek, in these dark hours,
Æneas at Evander's towers,
Soon will you see us here again
Decked with the spoils of slaughtered men.
Nor strays[errata 1] the road: ourselves have seen
The city, hid by valleys green,
Just dimly dawning, and explored
In hunting all the river-board.'
Out spoke Aletes, old and grey:
'Ye gods, who still are Ilium's stay,
No, no, ye mean not to destroy
Down to the ground the race of Troy,
When such the spirit of her youth,
And such the might of patriot truth.'
Then, as the tears roll down his face,
He clasps them both in strict embrace:
'Brave warriors! what rewards so great,
For worth like yours to compensate?
From Heaven and from your own true heart
Expect the largest, fairest part:
The rest, and at no distant day,
The good Æneas shall repay,
Nor he, the royal youth, forget
Through all his life the mighty debt.'
'Nay, hear me too' Ascanius cried
'Whose life is with my father's tied:
O Nisus! by the home-god powers
We jointly reverence, yours and ours,
The god of ancient Capys' line,
And Vesta's venerable shrine,
By these dread sanctions I appeal
To you, the masters of my weal;
O bring me back my sire again!
Restore him, and I feel no pain.
