Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/57

This page needs to be proofread.

Æneas the Dardan—while he is standing bewildered, and continues riveted in one set gaze—the queen has moved towards the temple, Dido, of loveliest presence, with a vast train of youths thronging round her. Like as on Eurotas' banks, or along the ridges of Cynthus, 5 Diana[o] is footing the dance, while, attending her, a thousand mountain nymphs are massing themselves on either side; she, her quiver on her shoulder, as she steps, towers over the whole goddess sisterhood, while Latona's[o] bosom thrills silently with delight; such was Dido—such she 10 bore herself triumphant through the midst, to speed the work which had empire for its prospect. Then, at the doors of the goddess, under the midmost vaulting of the temple, with a fence of arms round her, supported high on a throne, she took her seat. There she was giving laws and judgments 15 to her citizens, and equalizing the burden of their tasks by fair partition, or draughting it by lot, when suddenly Æneas sees coming among the great crowd Antheus and Sergestus, and brave Cloanthus, and other of the Teucrians, whom the black storm had scattered over the 20 deep, and carried far away to other coasts. Astounded was he, overwhelmed, too, was Achates, all for joy and fear: eagerly were they burning to join hands with theirs, but the unexplained mystery confounds their minds. They carry on the concealment, and look out from the 25 hollow cloud that wraps them, to learn what fortune their mates have had, on what shore they are leaving their fleet, what is their errand here—for they were on their way, a deputation from all the crews, suing for grace, and were making for the temple with loud cries. 30

After they had gained an entrance, and had obtained leave to speak in the presence, Ilioneus, the eldest, thus began, calm of soul:—

"Gracious queen, to whom Jupiter has given to found a new city, and to restrain by force of law the pride of savage 35 nations, we, hapless Trojans, driven by the winds over every sea, make our prayer to you—keep off from our ships the horrors of fire, have pity on a pious race, and