He steer'd at Distance from the faithless Shore
Where the false Goddess reigns with fatal Pow'r;
And sought those grateful Groves, that shade the Plain,
Where Tyber rouls majestick to the Main,
And fattens, as he runs, the fair Campain.
His Kindred Gods the Hero's Wishes crown
With fair Lavinia, and Latinus' Throne:
But not without a War the Prize he won.
Drawn up in bright Array the Battle stands:
Turnus with Arms his promised Wife demands.
Hetrurians, Latians equal Fortune share;
And doubtful long appears the Face of War.
Both Pow'rs from neighb'ring Princes seek Supplies,
And Embassies appoint for new Allies.
Æneas, for Relief, Evander moves;
His Quarrel he asserts, his Cause approves.
The bold Rutulians, with an equal Speed,
Sage Venulus dispatch to Diomede.
The King, late Griefs revolving in his Mind,
These Reasons for Neutrality assign'd.—
Shall I, of one poor Dotal Town possest,
My People thin, my wretched Country waste;
An exil'd Prince, and on a shaking Throne;
Or risk my Patron's Subjects, or my own?
You'll grieve the Harshness of our Hap to hear;
Nor can I tell the Tale without a Tear.
The Adventures of Diomedes.
After fam'd Ilium was by Argives won,
And Flames had finish'd, what the Sword begun;
Pallas, incens'd, pursu'd us to the Main,
In Vengeance of her violated Fane.
Alone Oilëus forc'd the Trojan Maid,
Yet all were punish'd for the brutal Deed.
