The XII Aeneids of Virgil, the most renowned laureat-prince of Latine-poets; translated into English deca-syllables, by Iohn Vicars. 1632

THE ARGUMENT of the sixth book.

Aeneas safe at Cuma's lands, By Sibyll strange things understands: Misenus found, and buried there, From whom the hill its name doth beare. The Gods appeas'd, a branch of gold He beares along: His course doth hold, By Sibyls guide, t' Avernus lake; Knows Palmure, great care does take To comfort Dido, there being found. Sees Deïphobus cruell wound. Sibyll him shows the pains of hell, Anchises meets him, knows him well. Rare things of Rome to him relates: Which done, he thence returns to's mates.

THose weeping words so uttered, swift he sails, And gets to Cumas coasts with prosperous gales. Foredecks they winde from sea, sharp anchours tie Their settled ships, which 'bout th•• shores do lie: Out leap their nimble youth, with high desire Of Latium land. Some seek for sparks of fire Hid in hard flints; some range the woods about, The wilde-beasts dennes, fresh springs and flouds finde out▪ But good Aeneas to the towers did hie,

Where great Apollo hath supremacie, The dungeon dark and cells of Sibyll grave, To whom a heart and minde Apollo gave Inspir'd with wisedome, future things to know; Then to Diana's groves, guilt rooms, they go. Fame sayes, when Daedalus from Creet did flie On wax-swift wings, he boldly flew i'th' skie, To the cold North gliding by uncouth way, On Cumas turrets he at last did stay. Here first ariving safe, great Phoebus, he Offered his wings, built temples faire to thee. Upon whose gates Androgeus death doth stand: And how (oh woe!) th' Athenians by command Seven sonnes and daughters yeare by yeare did slay: There pots for drawing lots behold we may. Above the sea, their Candy countrey's seen, And there was pourtray'd Pasiphäe the queen: And by her stood her loathsome love, a bull; With whom by art her lust was serv'd at full: Whose monstrous mixture foulely did produce A two-form'd Minotaure, of base abuse, A monstrous monument. That house was here, Whose Labyrinthick labour did appeare In its amazing maze. But Daedalus Pitying the queens love most notorious, Found out the houses sleights; Meanders strange, Led by a threed, through all the crooks did range. And thou, O Icarus, hadst had great share (Had not grief hindred) in this work so rare: Twice he assay'd thy fate in gold to paint, And twice i'th' work thy fathers hand did faint. Yea all those famous facts they had survay'd,

Had not Achates, sent before, them stayd, And with him Deiphobe brought, no lesse, Apollo's and Diana's Prophetesse: Who thus sayes to the king; This time requires No pleasing spectacles to th' eyes desires: But now out of thy droves seven heifers faire Go sacrifice, and seven good sheep prepare, According to old wont. This to him said, Her holy hests Aeneas straight obey'd. The Trojans then she to th' huge temple calls, Into a cave cut out o'th' mightie walls Of Cumas mount: an hundred wayes most wide Leading thereto, an hundred doores beside, Where hundred voices roare Sibylls replies. To th' porch they came, when as the virgin wise Sayes, Now's the time the fates decrees to know: Here's God, ah see the God! who saying so, Her visage straight was changed at the doore, And her complection was not as before: Her haire did stare, her heart did pant with feare, Strange extasies her swelling thoughts did reare; She greater personage seems, no voice humane She seems to have, since she did neare remain Unto the Gods great power, therewith inspir'd: And stand'st thou still (sayes she) when prayer's requir'd, Trojan Aeneas? stand'st thou still, I say? Shall not these fearefull rooms (till thou dost pray) Ope their wide mouths? This having said, she ceast. Straight on the Trojans trembling feare increast. Then thus the king humbly did supplicate; Great Phoebus, who dost still commiserate Troyes tedious toiles, who Paris hand didst guide,

And mad'st his shaft to pierce Achilles side; By whom so many land-enclosing seas I entred have, and passed with sweet ease; And through most farre remote Moroco lands, Through many deep and dangerous quick-sands; And now at last in shrinking Italie Have safe ariv'd, and hitherto past by The various fortunes which have us still tended: O now 'tis time, your indignation ended, Great Gods and Goddesses, whom Ilium brave, And glorious Dardan much provoked have: And thou, most sacred priest, which dost foresee Future events, grant (for I ask of thee But kingdomes due by destinies consent) Us Trojans rest in Latiums continent, And to Troyes wandring Gods, who with us went. Then I'le to Phoebus and Diana raise Faire marble temples, and t' Apollo's praise Make dayes of triumphs; and within our state, Thee as our God, we all will venerate. And here thine anxious oracles I'le place, Thy secret sacred rhymes, my nations grace. To thee, faire priest, choice men I'le consecrate; Onely in leaves do not thy rhymes relate, Lest puft with windes, they fluttering flie away. And thus he ends; Speak thou thy self, I pray. But here the priest pelting impatiently, Wrathfully rag'd at Phoebus deity Within the cave: if she could from her breast Shake off the Gods great power, which her supprest, And which so much the more did curb and tame Her madding mouth, her fierce heart fitly frame.

And now the temples hundred mightie doores Ope of themselves, by orizons; the roares Of Sibylls answers thus the aire do beat; O thou who hast escapt seas dangers great! Yet still on land farre greater thee attend. The Trojans shall (then let this care here end) Into Lavinus realms arive, but there They'le soon repent: warres, warres full fraught with feare, And Tyber foaming streams of bloud I see. Ah Simois and Xanthus there shall be, And second Grecian camps: there thou shalt finde A new Achilles of as fierce a minde, Born of a Goddesse great: yea Iuno fierce Will still the Trojans with much anguish pierce. When thou in straits shalt be, what nations great, What Latian towns shalt not thou lowly entreat? A nother harbour'd wife will cause this smart, A forrain wedlock on the Trojans part. Yet shrink not for these ills, but stouter be: For the first hope (thou'lt scarcely credit me) Of comfort, wherewith fortune will thee crown, Shall surely issue from a Grecian town. Thus from her cell Cumaean Sibyll sings Ambiguous ambages, the cloyster rings With the shrill sound thereof, in most dark strains Wrapping up truths with such o'reruling rains, Apollo's spurres her furious stirres restrains. As soon as ere her rage began to cease, And her mad mouth began to be at peace, Noble Aeneas thus begins to say; Faire virgin, no new stirres thou dost display, No strange unheard of change, unknown to me,

All these in heart long since I did foresee. This one thing I desire (since men relate, That hard by is th' infernall kings wide gate, And Acherontine darksome plashie lake) O may I enter, for my fathers sake, To see his lovely face. Open, I pray, Those dreadfull doores, and lead me the right way. Him I through flames and thousand fluttering darts Bore on my back, and sav'd from hostile smarts: With me he went, with me all seas he sail'd, All storms, where with skies, seas, shores, us assail'd, Beyond his strength, and lot he feebly bore. He when I hither came, charg'd me before, That humbly I should pray for free accesse Into thy courts: faire ladie, now expresse Compassion to the father and the sonne: For by thy power what ere thou wilt is done. Nor thee in vain hath Hecate set thus Over Avernus groves: If Orpheus With's Thracian harp and rarely sounding voice His wifes soule could regain, with longed choice: If Pollux could by death alternately His brother free, go, come most frequently: What talk I now of Hercules most strong? Of Theseus stout? even I my self belong To mightie Ioves high race. This being said, He held the altar: then the priestly maid Did thus reply; Brave Trojan, born most high, The way to hell is found most easily: Pluto's black gate stands open night and day: But to return, and thence finde heavens hard way, O here's the toile, this is a work indeed;

••ew can do this, and they of heavenly breed, And such as are belov'd of Iove most just, Whose vertues rare to th' skies exalt them must: Dark woods, black flouds, the midwayes overspread: Yet if thy minde be with such longing led, To swimme twice over Styx, twice to behold Tartars dark dennes, and that thou art so bold, So hard a task, so free to take in hand: Then what thou first must do now understand: In huge wood shades there is a golden tree, Whose leaves and tender twigs all golden be, To faire Proserpina being consecrated, VVhich by the whole thick wood is obumbrated, And with dark dikes and banks immur'd about: But none can under earth get in or out, Till he a branch of that gold tree obtain, VVhich must to faire Proserpina remain, As her choice gift. A first branch pull'd away, Another sprig springs out of gold most gay: Then search it seriously, which when you spie, Carefully crop it; for if destinie Intend thee to befriend, 'twill follow faire, With a slight slip; if not, no toil or care Can break the branch, no ax it loose or lop. Besides, there lies upon the earths bare top, Thy friends unburied corps (alas, thou sure Knowest it not) whose smell none can endure Through all thy fleet: then whiles thou here dost stay To ask deep counsell, take his corps away, And lay him in his grave, and with thee take Fat beasts, thy first black sacrifice to make. So shalt thou Sty••••••n groves behold at last,

And hard-found courts, which (yet) no mortals past. This said, to silence she her lips confin'd. Aeneas, he goes on with carefull minde, His eyes fast fixt on ground, the cave forsaken, By thousand thoughts of strange events o'retaken. With whom his trustie kinde Achates went, To share with him in all hard straits full bent. Thus as they passe, much various talk they finde; What corps t'interre she meant; what dead friend kinde: And going on, they on dry-land did spie Misenus good, slain most unworthily: Misenus nobly born, then whom was none A braver bolder trumpeter ere known. With expert art t'inflame mens hearts to fight, In whom great Hector rarely did delight, Made him his mate; for in his battells brave With speare and trump he did him well behave. But when Achilles victour vanquished His Hector deare, he forthwith followed Trojan Aeneas, as his noble mate, To no lesse fame himself t' associate. But (once) when on an hollow rock, by chance, He unadvis'dly did his trump advance, And with shrill notes did seem to vindicate The sea-nymphs; Triton him did emulate, And (if we may beleeve it) in disdain Precipitately in the foamy main Drown'd him amongst the rocks. They all therefore A bout the corps his fatall end deplore, Chiefly Aeneas: then without delay They Sibylls charge to discharge haste away, And weeping went to work, to fell down trees,

A grave pile to erect, which by degrees Should touch the skies. To an old wood they go, Where fierce wilde beasts did lurk: there down they throw Firre-trees, and beech resounding hatchets blow, Ash-trees and oaks they cut and cleave with wedges, And from the hills huge elms they rowl on sledges· Aeneas chiefly all their works o'reviews, Prayes them to ply it, nor doth he refuse To work with them; yet whiles in his sad breast He ruminates these things, his eyes addrest To the huge wood, thus haply prayed he; O that in this wide wood, that golden tree So hard to finde, it self would to me show, For surely all the prophets said (I know) Is too too true of thee, Misenus deare! Scarce said he thus, when to him did appeare A paire of pigeons, flying 'fore his eyes, And on the grasse alighting from the skies. The noble prince his mothers birds did know, And joyfull prayes, O be my guides, and show The way if any be, and through the aire 'Point me a path by which I may repaire Into the wood, and finde the fertile ground, Which with that rare rich golden branch is crown'd. And thou deare mother, do me not forsake In such anxieties: as thus he spake, He steady stands, watching the doves aright, What signes they'd show, which way they'd take their flight. They onely pecking meat flew fast away As farre as e're mans sight could after stray. Thus flying o're Avernus stinking lake, They swiftly hovering up, their way do take

Through the transparent aire, and gliding sit Each on a tree, upon their branches fit. Whence on the boughs gold glistering glimpses lay, Like as when on a pinching winter day The mistle-tow doth flourish fresh and gay With new sprung leaves, which ne're grew from the tree, On which it hangs, whose yellow berries be 'Bout the tall trunk thereof, a clinging shade: Even such a shew the golden branches made, On adverse oaken boughs, which a soft blast Made dangling leaves a twinkling lustre cast. At it straight leaps Aeneas, pulls it quick Greedily, thinking it too long did stick. Which to the Sibylls cell away he bore. Meanwhile the Trojans did lament on shore Misenus dead, and his neglected dust They now adorn with funerall rites most just. And first, fat-heart of oak in shivers cut, And pitchie chips of wood together put, They built a mightie pile, and thereto adde In gracefull wise his arms and cypresse sad. Some get warm water, some set on the flame Brasse boyling cauldrons, some with ointments came, And wash and 'noint his frozen body there, And weeping much his wofull corps they beare Unto the bed; then over him were thrown His purple robes, rich vestures throughly known. Some on their shoulders beare the mightie beere (Sad piece of service) as to parents deare Young men do use; their torches turn'd behinde, Their frankincense and oyles, given with free minde, They heap together, and together burn.

Thus when his corps and all to ashes turn, And the flame slakes; vvhat ever did remain, His unburnt bones, hot cinders, up were ta'ne, And washt vvith wine, and by Chorineus laid Into a brazen coffin, by him made: And thrice pure water on his mates he threw, And with an olive-branch sprinkles sweet dew. And thus due expiation makes for all, And bids farewell, last knell, to th' funerall. But good Aeneas the sepulchre raises To a huge height, and to the mans due praises Layes on his arms, his oare, and trump of fame, Upon the skie-top mount, which from his name Was call'd Misenus, aye to beare the same. This done, he speeds to do the Sibylls charge. There is a dungeon deep, with mouth most large, Lined with stones, fenc'd with black pools, boughs thick, O're which no fowl dares flie, though ne're so quick, Without destruction; such foul stinks arise Out of its mouth, and putrifie the skies: Whence Greeks that place Avernus nominate. Here foure fat heifers he did ordinate, Upon whose front the priest pure liquor threw, And pul'd the haires, which 'twixt their horns thick grew, And cast them in the fire, first expiation; Making to Hecate due invocation, Whose soveraignty in heaven and hell was great. Some kill the beasts, and in their basons neat Save the warm bloud: Aeneas self also A black-wool'd lambe to th' dam of hagges below, And her great sister, vvith his sword did slay; And unto thee, sacred Proserpina,

A barren cow. Then to the Stygian king He built night-altars, and to them did bring Fat flesh of bulls, to sacrifice i'th' flame, Pouring on fatty oyle t' increase the same. But now, behold, before Sols first arise, Under his feet the ground made muttering cries, Wood-mountains mov'd, dogs seem'd to howl i'th' shade, Just as the Goddesse came, foule stirre was made: The priest cries out, Avaunt, be gon, profane, And cleare these groves, not one must here remain. Force thou thy way with naked sword in hand, Be strong, Aeneas, stoutly to it stand. This said, her self into the cave she cast Most furiously; he stiffely follows fast, So good a guide, at heels, and thus he pray'd; Great Gods, which rule each ghost and silent shade, Phlegethon, Chaos, rooms dark, dumbe and deep; O let me not of these things silence keep: O let me with your leave speak what I heare, Disclose hid secrets, vvhich do here appeare, Deep under ground, and in black darknesse drown'd. Then in dark night, black shades, they ramble round Through Pluto's palaces, and regions void: Much like, when men (the moon with clouds being cloyd) Walking in woods but by a glimmering light, Iove having hid with fogs the skies cleare sight, And colours faire being dampt by darksome night. Before the porch, in the first gape of hell, Foule mournings and tormenting cares did dwell; Deadly diseases old-age anguishes, Feare, faultie famine, vvants lean languishes; Affrighting-forms, fierce death, and deadly toiles,

Deaths kinsman, sleep; false filthie joy, that soiles Mens soules. On th' other side were deadly warres, The Furies beds of steel, and desperate jarres, Her viperous haire tide up with bloudy bands. I'th' midst a mightie shadie elm there stands, With weather-beaten boughs and aged arms▪ Where usually (they say) vain dreams and charms Made their abodes, and 'bout the leaves did 'bide, And many furious fierce vvilde beasts beside. Two natur'd Scylla's, Centaures stabled were About the doores, monsters of hideous feare: Briareus hundreth-handed, Hydra's ire, Teeth-gnashing Chimaer's arm'd with flames of fire; Gorgons, and Harpyes, hagges with shapes three-fold. Here sudden fright Aeneas forc'd to hold, And shake his naked sword to all he met: And had not his vvise guides advisement let, And made him from those corps-lesse soules to fly, And passe in peace, those thin shapes subtiltie He had assail'd, but vainly beat the aire. Thence then he to the right path did repaire, Which leads to th' Acherontine filthie floud: Whose troublous stream boiles up vvith mire and mud, And from Cocytus sands evaporates. Charon, hells frightfull ferryman, there vvaits, And plies the passage o're this filthie floud, VVith crabbed countenance, hoare haires, which stood Most roughly over-grown o're all his chin, His gogling eyes star'd, as they flames had bin; In ragged robes and tattered old attire. Thus, a strong long pole thrust into the miro, He drives his boat, assisted vvith one sail,

And, as his charge, in's barge soules o're doth hale. Much grown in yeares, yet lusty for his age; To whom to th' shore soules flock for their passage, Women and men, yea all whom death destroyes, Great potent peeres, unmarried maids and boyes, Compt youths, vvhich die before their fathers face, Like leaves in vvoods, falling from trees apace, Pincht off by autumnes chilling, killing cold: Or like conglomerated birds that hold And flie together, forced o're the main, By vvinter vveather, to some pleasant plain. Thus stand they striving, first, to be past o're, With hands and hearts longing for th' other shore. The fuming ferryman takes these, leaves those, And others fiercely farre from shore o'rethrows. Aeneas (with this noise much mov'd, amaz'd) Sayes to the priestly maid, Pray, vvhence is rais'd This flocking to the floud? vvhat seek these soules? What strange adventure to these banks them toules? And why do those the livid waves vvith oares So swiftly sweep, to get unto you shores? To whom the aged priest sayes briefly thus▪ Anchises, and Ioves off-spring generous, This is Cocytus deep black Styxes lake, By which to sweare, forsweare, Gods conscience make▪ Unburied soules, that ragged-rabble be, And he the boatsman, Charon, whom you see. Those vvhom he rowes in's boat, due buriall have; Now may they, till their bones do rest in grave, O're those rough streams, those banks have transporta∣tion, But make about those shores perambulation, And wandring walks, at least, an hundred yeares,

Then passe they o're those ponds, which them re-cheeres. Aeneas then with fixed feet stood still, Full of deep thoughts, pitying their case most ill: There he beheld Leucaspis 'mongst them all, And brave Orontes, his fleets admirall, Mourning their vvant of honourable graves, Whom boystrous blasts o'rewhelmed in the vvaves, And sunk both ships and men, sailing from Troy. Behold, he now beheld, vvith more annoy, His ship-master, his Palinure, perplext: Who sailing Sicils seas, his eyes fast fixt Upon his starres, fell over-board, was drown'd; Whom scarce for mists, his sad friend having found, Thus he sayes to him; My deare Palinure, What God our losse of thee did thus procure? And drench thee in the deep? I pray thee tell, For ne're till now did falshood with him dwell: Apollo with this one unsure reply, Did much deceive my vain credulity; Who told me, thou seas safe shouldst passe, and see Faire Italie, and there shouldst landed be: And is this (now) the faithfull promise made? But he on th' other side repli'de, and said; Brave Trojan prince, nor Phoebus thee deluded, Nor any God me to the seas obtruded: For I my self holding my helm too fast, Where I sat pilot, did me headlong cast Into the sea, guiding the ship. I sweare By all rough seas, nought did me so much feare As thy great ships and ship-masters decay, Lest on thy bark rough swelling seas should prey. Three vvinter-nights, fierce vvindes me blew about

The ocean vast; the fourth day I found out, VVith much adoe, the banks of Italie, Keeping my head still 'bove the waves on high: At last, by small degrees I got to land, And thereon safely I a while did stand, And so had staid, but for a barbarous crew, VVho to me (dropping vvet) in fury drew: And as I crawled up on hands and feet A craggy bank, vvith swords they did me meet, Slew me, and of me hop'd to make a prey: Now vvindes and vvaves me neare the shore do lay, Yet keep i'th' sea. Wherefore by heavens light cleare, By this faire aire, and by thy father deare, And young Iülus hopes, I thee intreat Free me from this ill state, thou captain great; And either put me (as thou mayst) in ground, (For I in Velines haven may be found) Or else, if means there be, if Goddesse great Have shewn thee any supernat'rall fear, (For I beleeve, not vvithout heav••nly aid Thou swam'st this floud, this Stygia•• lake didst vvade) Lend me poore wretch thy hand, and help me o're, That I, at least, may rest in you ••weet shore. Thus he; and thus the priest her minde expres••; Whence, Palinure, comes this thy rash request? VVouldst thou unburied, Styxes stream pa••••e o're? The furies flouds, unbidden, leave thy shore? Cease to expect by prayers to change heavens fates. But heare and mark what thy case consolates. The nearest neighbours, bordering 'bo•••• those parts, By heavens prodigious signes perplext in hearts, Shall take thy bones, and vvith solemnities

Interre, entombe thee: from which grave shall rise Unto that place an everlasting name Of Palinure. Hence he more glad became, His care had cure, his grief in part was past, That that land should his name retain at last. Then on they passe, and to the pool draw nigh, Whom Charon straight on Stygian streams doth spie, How slily they the wood walk, haste to land: Thus he with checks and taunts them takes in hand. Who e're thou art, that arm'd wouldst sail this way, Say, what's thy will? why com'st thou? thou shalt stay. These be soules seats: here night and sleep do sit: In Styxes boat live bodies 'tis not fit To carry o're, nor did it me well please To carry Theseus, or great Hercules, Or Pirithous, though they were heavenly bred, For strength and stomack most unconquered. Alcides bound fierce Cerberus in bands, Hells great grim-porter, and with his strong hands Him quaking drag'd from Pluto's princely seat; The rest did plot our king of 's queen to cheat. To whom th' Amphrysian priest reply'd again; Trust me, here's no such tricks; from rage refrain; Our weapons wound not, Cerberus may bark, And ever fright poore soules in's dungeon dark: Proserpina may keep her uncles bed; For this our Trojan prince much honoured For piety and prowesse, but intends To go to's father, to deep hell descends. If so great goodnesse in the man moves not, Yet know this branch of gold, which he hath got: (Which she pul'd forth, being hid under his gown)

Whereat his rage and wrath of heart sank down. Silent, that sacred gift he did adore, The fatall branch not seen long time before, And shoves to shore the blew boat them to take, And other soules which sate beside the lake He thrusts aside, and layes the hatches fit, And great Aeneas sits ith' bulk of it. The joynted barge groan'd with their pondrous weight, And through the chinks took in much puddle straight. At length the priest and prince pasto're the floud, And scapt the flaggy gray-grasse, myre and mud; Hells porter Cerberus, through his triple throat Through all those regions rais'd a barking note. Couching, huge curre-like, in his kennell by, Whose snake-like swelling neck the priest did spie, And cast•• to him a soporiferous sop, With drugs and honey mixt, which he did slop, And through his treble throat it quickly snaps, In dogged-hunger, with his meager chaps. Whereat his mighty back croucht, down he lies, And spreads himself ith' cave, with slumbring eyes. The porter laid, Aeneas whipt in brave, And got to shore from th' irregressive wave. Straight in's first entrance piteous cries he heares, And loud laments of infants 'bout his eares, Of tender babes snatcht from their mothers breast, Depriv'd of longer life by deaths arrest. Next these, were those who by false sentence dy'd, Yet lot and law these to their place apply'd. Minos th' inquisitour the lots doth cast, And spies and tries their lives and follies past. Next, they lie mourning, who with guiltlesse smart,

Hating their lives, their own hands pierce their heart: Then though they spilt their bloud, yet now'd be glad To suffer earths worst toiles, then hells pains bad. But fates forbid, and hells most loathsome lake, And Styxes nine-fold streams tie them to th' stake. Not farre from thence lie all the fields about (For so men call them) of the weeping rout. Here all, whom tyrannizing love did slay With piercing passions, these in by-paths lay, Hid under myrtle boughs, whose grief of heart Still stings them, and in death doth not depart. Here he beheld Procris and Phaedra faire, Eriphyle her sonnes wounds laying bare. Euadne he, and Phasiphe did finde, And Laodamia, to her pheere most kinde: Caeneus now a woman, once a lad, Yet re-transfigur'd for her follies bad. 'Mongst whom he spi'de Sidonian Dido there, Wandring ith' wood her love-wound fresh t' appeare. Whō Troyes brave prince approaching near, scarce knew Through the thick shade: (like Luna, whose first view A man through clouds doth see, or thinks he sees) He weeps, and speaks such sugred words as these; Distressed Dido, ah, that sad report Was too too true, brought to me from thy court; That thou wast dead, and with a sharp sword slain. Alas! sweet lady, I did cause thy bane. Yet I protest by starres and deities, And by firm faith, if under ground it lies, I left thy land (faire queen) against my minde, And here the Gods commandments me do binde To traverse up and down these foggy shades

Through thornie paths, and deep, dark, dumpish glades: Nor could I e're beleeve that it could be, That my departure could so cruciate thee. Ah st••y vvith me, fly not away so fast, Whom shun'st thou? since this talk must be our last. Thus spake Aeneas, thinking therewithall To swage their grief, and flouds of teares let fall. She frowning fixt her angry eyes on ground, Nor was more mov'd with all he could propound, Then is hard flint, or Parus rock obdure. At last she from him breaks into obscure And bushy vvoods, flying most angrilie, VVhere her first spouse Sich•••••• courteously Answered, her vvoes vvith equall love repayd. At this hard hap Aeneas vvas dismay'd: Yet vveeping follows her aloof, apace, Lamenting much her absent vvofull case. Thence on he goes, and at the last they came To th' utmost fields, where men of Martiall fame Did walk about: here he Tydeus meets, And Mars-like Parthenopeus kindely greets; Adrastus gastly ghost: and here he spies Such Trojan lords as caus'd full weeping eyes: They being slain in warre, he knows them all In their rare ranks, and many a teare lets fall. Glaucus, Thersilocus, Medon, all three Antenors sonnes, he sadly there did see, Polybetes, great Ceres priest most stout, Idaeus still in's chariot drawn about, Still brandishing his blade: soules thick do flock On both sides, making him their gazing-stock. One sight sufficeth not: they stay, stand still,

Make neare approach, and know the cause they will Why, how he came. But Greeces peeres most stout, And those of Agamemnons warre-like rout, Spying the man, and his drawn glistering blade Through the thick mists, extreamly all afraid, Some flie away, as once to ship to get: Some gape to speak, whose gapes their speech do let. And here at last he saw in wofull case King Priams Deïphobus mangled face, And all o're wounded corps most cruelly, Yea, his faire face defac'd uncomelily; His broken brows, both hands, both eares, and nose, All quite cut off by his most barbarous foes. Scarce he him knew, trembling in wofull wise, Lab'ring to hide those dire deformities. Yet in a well known tone thus he cries out; Deare Deïphobus, valiant, stern and stout, Sprung from Troyes royall stemme, what savage minde To take such foule revenge in's heart could finde? O who had power to use, abuse thee so? Fame did report, and I nought else did know, But that in dead of night, thou wearied, With slaying Greeks didst fighting fall down dead On heaps of them. Then I in vain did frame On Rhetian shores a tombe unto thy fame: And to thy soule sent three salutes most deep, And made that place thy name and fame to keep: Thy body there (faire friend) I could not see, Nor as I would (my countrey left) give thee A worthy buriall. Deïphobus here Sayes, Nothing's left undone, O friend most deare; To Deïphobus thou all dues hast payd,

All buriall rites: but here alas I'm stayd, And drown'd in this distresse by fates decree, And base Lacaena's fatall villanie: She left me these sad monuments of woe. For as we all (you cannot choose but know, And too too well remember) that last night Did spend in frolick, but most false delight; When first that fatall horrid horse o'releapt Our Trojan walls, when from his paunch out stept His swelling troops of armed foot-men fierce, She feigning votes in Bacchanalian verse, Led up and down our quaffing Phrygian dames, And in her hand held forth bright burning flames: And from their camps call'd out the Grecians bold. Then cumbring cares and sleepinesse did hold Me prest to rest, in my unhappie bed, And sweet deep sleep had me (now) vanquished, And laid like one quite dead. This worthy wife (Meanwhile) my arms, the safegard of my life, And trusty sword, purloyn'd and stole away, Set my doores ope, call'd in without delay Her Menelaus, hoping (thus) to endere His love to her, and all past ills to cleare. What needs more words, they burst into my bed, Together with Vlysses, mischiefs head. Great Gods, repay those Greeks with vengeance due, If it be just which I request of you. But what strange chance hath brought thee (thus) alive To us? Tell me likewise; what seas did drive Thee to these parts? or was't the Gods decree? Or to these toiles hath fortune forced thee? To tread these sad and sunlesse wearying wayes?

Thus with this talk Aurora's radiant rayes Had guilded half-o're heavens huge axletree, And haply all their time thus spent might be: But that the Sibyll his most watchfull mate, Said, Good Aeneas, night doth properate, And we with weeping waste the time in vain: Here see the way divides it self in twain. 〈…〉〈…〉 way, which leads by Pluto's gate, Will bring us the right way t' Elysium straight: But the left leads to Tartars torturing cell, The place where damned soules are plagu'd in hell. Then Deïphobus said, Prime priest, be still, If I offend, I'le back; my number fill, And shelter me in shades. Go thou, O go, Thou glorie of our land, the heavens bestow Better good luck on thee. This having said, As soon as spoke away from them he made. Aeneas quick lookt back, and soon espi'de A spacious castle on a rocks left side, With a strong threefold mightie wall surrounded, Which Phlegethons fierce fierie river bounded; And did thick ratling stones evaporate. Before it stood a mightie open gate, With adamantine pillars set in view, Such as nor Gods nor men could cut or hew By strength or art: a brazen tovvre stood high, Where Tisiphone fierce sate usually In bloudy robes, and night and day did guard And watch the way. From hence was eas'ly heard Great groans and moans of screeking smart and pains, And rumbling noise of shackling iron chains. Aeneas stood amaz'd, dampt with that din,

And said; Faire lady, tell me, what's within? What damned soules? what plagues? what hideous cries Are those I heare? To whom she thus replies; Brave Trojan prince, no upright man may dwell In this nefarious nest of damned hell: But me, when as Proserpina me made Hells governesse, she taught, and open layd The plagues which Gods inflict, shew'd me them all: Here's (sayth she) Rhadamanthus horrid hall, Where he corrects and findes out knaveries, Forcing confession of all villanies: And when they hope to scape with foolish joy, At last in death he plagues them with annoy. Then Tisiphone, in one hand a whip, Revenge fully makes guiltie soules to skip, With furious lashes, holding stinging snakes In th' other hand, which greater tortures makes, Calling for all her furious sisters aid. At last the sacred gates huge screeking made, And opened wide. Seest thou (sayes she to him) What looks look on us? what a guard most grim Sits at the porch? see horrid Hydra's seat, With fiftie snaky heads and gape-mouths great: Then hell it self, full twice as broad and deep Downward, as heaven, upward beheld, is steep. Here Titans youthfull troop, earths aged race, By thunder thrown down, sunk to th' deepest place. And here the bastard-giant twinnes I saw, Which with their hands meant heaven to scale, and draw Great Iupiter from his supernall seat. I saw Salmone••s suffering tortures great: For he Ioves lightning needs would imitate,

And rattling thunder: being born in state Upon foure horses, shaking flames of fire, Making Greek towns and countreys him admire, In triumph drawn, in frantick arrogance, Himself with Ioves due honour to advance; Whiles he heaven, inimitable fire, By sounding brasse, and horn-hooft steeds desire To counterfeit in their most swift careeres: But mighty Iove, to whom this soon appeares, Through thickest clouds dasht out a deadly dart, (Nor could his torches, nor bright fierie art Assist) and headlong in a storm him slew. There also might you mighty Tityus view, Fructiferous Terra's sonne, whose body great Stretcht out, in breadth nine acres is compleat: A foule devouring vultures bending bill, Gnawing upon his wastelesse intralls still: Whose guts him ever glut with horrid pains, Thus feeding on his breast it still remains, And restlessely pulls his regrowing veins. Why speak I of Lapitha, Ixion, And Pirithous? on whom a huge flint-stone Doth alwayes hang, and alwayes seem to fall; Before whom stand rich lustfull beds most tall; And costly cates to feed their luxurie, Stand ready disht: but nestling o're them nigh Stands the prime Furie, and them strict commands Not once to touch the table with their hands: And if they stirre, she starts up in great ire, Rattles them up, bangs them with flames of fire. Here brother-haters whiles they liv'd, I saw; Parents despisers, cheaters of just law:

Rich churles who got great wealth, but for themselves; The greatest troops being of these impious elves) Such as for foule adulteries have been slain; And who in jurious jarres do entertain; Who rob their masters, traitours are to th' state. All these with plagues hell doth incarcerate. Nor need'st thou ask, what pains and tortures fierce These various vitious men do sting and pierce. Some 'rowl huge stones, so••e hang fast ty'de to wheels, Thus wofull Theseus torments sits and feels, And e're shall feel. Thus Phlegyas most of all With hortatorie cries in hell doth yaull; Be warn'd, be just, the Gods do not despise: For gold of's countrey he made merchandize, And brought in an usurping powerfull lord, Old laws annull'd, made new laws for reward. Another did his daughters bed defile, Using forbidden copulation vile. All did foule deeds, and what they will'd, enjoy'd. Had I an hundred tongues to be employ'd, An hundred mouths, and iron elocution, I could not shew the diverse distribution Of all the kindes of hells impieties, And every plague which on them heavy lies. This when Apollo's Sibyll sage had said, Let's now go on (sayes he) all stayes evade, And our intended task begun conclude: Come, let's make haste; for I farre off have view'd The Cyclops shops, strong walls, high chimneys stand, Where we to leave our present, have command. This said, together they blinde paths passe by, Taking the midway, to the gates drew nigh. Aeneas first rusht in, with water cleare

Sprinckles himself, and on a post most neare Unto the gate, the branch of gold sticks fast; Which done, his gift given to the Goddesse, past; They came at length into these pleasant places, Those fragrant fi••lds and groves of all the Graces, Those sacred seats, where's larger, purer aire, Bright light, true sense of starres, and Phoebus faire. Where some delight in grassy plains to sport, To skip and leap in sand in wrastling sort; Some dance and sing, and trip it on their toes, VVhiles Orpheus in his priest-like long gown goes About, and playes on's seven-fold sounding lute▪ And strikes the strings with quill and skill acute. Here he beheld Troyes ancient noble race, Her potent peeres, born in more blis••efull case; Ilus, Assaracus; first king of Troy, Dardan; their arms put off with peacefull joy. He uselesse chariots (wondring) sees set by; Their speares fast fixt in ground, and carelessely Their steeds let loose, feeding in pastures wide; And look, what chariots love, what Martiall pride, They living had, what care to feed and dresse Their gallant coursers, now 'twas here no lesse. Again, on's right and left hand he doth eye Some, feeding on the grasse, sing merrylie Rare panegyricks 'mongst sweet lawrell trees, VVhere fluent Po•• through groves to flow he sees. Here patriots good, who for their countrey dy'd, Here priests, who liv'd most modest lives, did bide; Here pious prophets, who pure truths did preach, Here expert artists, who rare arts did teach▪ And here were they, who, mindefull of their state,

Made others their true goodnesse gratulate. All these were crown'd with fragrant garlands gay, By whom environ'd, thus did Sibyll say; (But chiefly to Musaeus 'mongst them all, For he vvas in the midst, and fa••re most tall) O say, sweet soules, and thou priest most divine, What parts, what place doth old Anchises shrine? For for this cause this toile we undertake, Are hither come, have swumme hells mighty lake. To whom this Heroë this reply did make; No soule hath certain seat, here we all dwell In shady groves, flower-beds, in fields that smell Most fresh and fragrant, grac'd vvith rivers cleare: But ye (if thereunto such joy ye beare) Climbe o're this hill, your vvay I'le easie make. This said, by his good guide, their way they take: And as they passe, he shows them fields most faire; Thus high hills left, they to the plains repaire. But grave Anchises vvas most closely bent To see, observe in valleys excellent, The soules reserv'd for more supernall places, Recogitates all his own kindreds cases: Their number, nature, fates, and fortunes all, Their customes, courage, he to minde doth call. And vvhen he saw Aeneas come to meet him, Through the green grasse he joyfull runs to greet him; Lifts up his hands, lets fall thick teares on's cheeks: Yet thus unto his sonne he cheerely speaks; And art thou come? by power and piety? Hast thou (as I had hope) got victorie O're this hard task? see I thy face again? Shall I my sonne heare and reply most plain?

Thus truly I suppos'd, and cast in minde, Counting the times, and now all true I finde. From vvhat strange parts (deare sonne) vvhat dangerous case! What seas turmoiles, do I thee now embrace! O how I fear'd thy harm in Libya land! Straight he reply'd; Deare father, thy command, And gastly ghost in visions oft beheld, Hath, for thy sake, me to these parts compell'd. My fleet lies safe i'th' port, on Tyrrhene sands: Ah, grant good father vve may now joyn hands, Grant me: ah flie not from our sweet embrace. At vvhich words teares ran down his cheeks apace. Thrice 'bout his neck to clasp his arms he tries, Thrice from his frustrate holds his image flies, Like fleeting blasts, or flashy dreams by night. Meanwhile Aeneas had full in his sight, In a by-valley, an enclosed wood, With ratling boughs and sprigges, where Lethe floud Ran through Elysian fields; 'bout vvhich did stand People and nations, an innumerous band. Like bees, when summers sun-shine does them warm▪ Who in faire meads 'bout flowers and lilies swarm: So o're the field a muttering noise was rais'd, Whose sudden sight Aeneas much amaz'd. Being ignorant, he does the cause enquire, What floud that vvas, and vvhat so great desire, About those banks did cause such troops of men. Then old Anchises answered thus again; Those soules to whom new corps are due by fate, About the banks of Lethe floud do vvait To drink deep draughts of dull forgetfulnes. Long since I long'd these things to thee t' expresse,

And ou•• old stock to thee to numerate, The more with me thee to exhilarate, Latium once found. O father deare (sayes he) Can sacred soules from hence translated be To heaven? and there resume dull corps again? Can wretches such dire love t' earths light retain? I'le tell thee sonne (sayes he) and cleare thy doubt. And thus began Anchises to set out, And punctually each circumstance t' explain: At first one abstruse spirit did maintain Heaven, earth and seas, bright moon and twinkling lights: That spirit infus'd through all parts, moves, incites The totall bulk; diffus'd o're the whole frame. Hence men, beasts, birds, and all sea-creatures came, And take life-feeding heat; and to their seed Celestiall birth, if corrupt bodies breed No obstacles, nor terrene tumours ill The corps with dull and heavy humours fill. And hence they feare, weep, have a longing minde, Regard not heaven, clos'd in flesh prisons blinde. Besides, when they their lifes last breath forsake, Yet death from them (poore soules) doth not quite take Each blot and blemish, or all corp'rall ills, Which long i'th' body grown, it strangely fills. Wherefore they purging punishment endure, To make them from old evils clean and pure. Some frisking soules i'th' whisking windes hang high, Some in huge streams wash their impurity, Or el••e are purged in refining flames: Thus these our pains each soule here fits and frames. Thence then we are to large Elysium sent, Few are in those faire meadows resident,

Till times long progresse quite expired be, And we from imbred, long-fed faults are free; Our soules all simply pure in due degree. And then all these (a thousand yeares full spent) In troops to Lethe flouds by God are sent: There made unmindefull of their former state, They long t' ascend corps to re-occupate, This said, Anchises his Aeneas brings With Sibyll into th' midst o'th' troop, which rings With ratling rumours: to a hill conducts him, Whence all now coming, he to know instructs him. And now go to (sayes he) I'le to the show Our Albane peeres, the glorie which shall flow In Italie, on our faire families, Th' imperiall princes which from us shall rise; Yea all thy fates and fortunes I'le declare. Seest thou (sayes he) that princely youth most faire, Which leans on's headlesse lance? He first shall spring From Latines bloud and Thyne, and be first king; Sylvius an Albane name, thy posthume birth, Whom thy Lavinia to thy long-lifes mirth Shall in the woods bring forth a royall king, From whom a regall race of kings shall spring, From whom our line o're Alba long shall reigne: And Procas next Troyes glorie shall maintain, Capys and noble Numitor, and he VVhose name shall personate, re pattern thee, Sylvius Aeneas, rare for arms and arts, If ever he reigne o're those Albane parts. Behold, my sonne, those youths, what powers they show, Those which with peacefull oaken garlands go, These shall for thee Nomentum, Gabi••, tame,

Fidena faire, Collatia's towers reclaim; Towns famous for their chastities report: Potent Pometia, Bola, Cora's fort, And Inuus camp, towns once of noble fame, Now onely lands, but of no note or name. Besides, to's grandsire Martiall Romulus Shall be a prop, whom from Assaracus His mother Ilia shall produce at last: Seest thou not on his head two crests stand fast? And how great Iove on him his favours poures? Behold (faire sonne) his high emperiall towres, Renowned Rome, vvhose magnanimity Shall rule the earth, and raise their fame to th' skie: And on their vvall she shall seven towres erect, Happie in famous peeres of high respect; Such as from Berecynthia, Gods faire queen, In chariot drawn through Troy, to spring were seen: Triumphant in her hundred God-births faire, All heaven-inhabitants, all starre-kings rare. And now look this vvay, view this nation great, Thy Romanes rare, and Romane Caesars seat, Iülus royall race, the whole earths Keisar. There's, there's the God-sprung man, Augustus Caesar, VVhom I so oft have promis'd unto thee: By whom the golden age Latium shall see. As once by Saturn 'twas the whole earth o're, His empire shall lie past the Indies shore, And Garamants, and where Sols prying eye, And the celestiall signes yet ne're past by: As farre as e're heaven-propping Atlas high Beares on his back the beauteous starrie skie. At his approach all Africk soon shall quake,

And at his God-decrees great Nile shall shake, Maugre his seven-fold mouth. Nor so much ground As he shall win, could Hercules surround, Though light-foot hindes as windes he could outflie, And boares and beares in Erymanth make die: Nor Bacchus that vine-victour with vine-chains, Who tigres fierce to draw his coach constrains O're Nisa's steepie tops. Now then shall we To spread our fame by facts base cowards be? Shall feare affright us from Ausonia land? But what renowned prince doth yonder stand, Crown'd with a sacred olive-branch? oh now I know him by's gray haires on beard and brow, Even noble Numa the first Romane king; Who shall establish laws, and make Rome spring From a poore land, by simple Sabines aid, Unto a mightie monarchie, firm laid; Whom Tullus shall succeed, his men to make Their lazie lives to leave, arms up to take, And wonted triumphs now again to gain. Next him shall rise Ancus with ampler train, Too much affecting popularity: And, if thou wilt, hither reflect thine eye, And see the kingly Tarquines haughty heart; And Brutus, acting the revengers part, Shall first accept the consuls dignity, VVith bundles born, and axes fatally. This father first his own sonnes shall destroy, Raising rebellions to the states annoy; And slay them, for his countrey liberty; Unhappie, howsoe're posterity May elevate and much commend the same,

O'recome with's countreys love and thirst of fame. See there where Decii, Drusi, stately stand, And fierce Torquatus with his ax in's hand; And brave Camillus stoutly doth regain Romes ensignes lost. But that most royall twain Whom thou seest glistring in like-arms most plain, And now seem loving soules, kept in deep shades, Ah! what fierce warres, with slicing bloudy blades, Shall they raise up, when once they rise to life? What battells shall they fight? what stintlesse strife? The fath'r in law passing th' Alps altitude; The sonne in law with's Eastern multitude In battell ray. Not so, deare sonne, not so, Use not uncivil civil-warres of woe, T'embrew your honour'd hands in countreys bloud. And thou, O thou C••sarean sonne, most good, Great seed of Iove▪ sprung from a sacred line, With such foule warres stain not those hands of thine: The Capitoll he shall triumphant take, And in hi•• chariot make Corinthus quake. The Grecians slain, he Argos shall subdue, And trample down proud Agamemnons crew, And victour, vanquish Pyrrhus self most strong, Armipotent Achilles lay along: And thus old Troyes great wrongs revenge shall have, And Pallases polluted temple brave. And who can thee, grave Cato, here omit? Or of couragious Cossus silent sit? Of Gracchus great? those two rare Scipios, Warre wondrous thunder-bolts, to Carthage woes? Fabricius, mightie in his mean estate? Serranus, plow-man, yet Romes potentate?

VVhy am I tyr'd to tell of Fabius gr••••t? That mightie man, whose wisedome to retreat, And grave cunctation shall Romes wrack repaire. Some for their skill in brazen statutes, rare; Some able (I think) hard marbles so to cut And carve, as if they life had in them put: Some famous for facundous oratorie, Some for the Math'maticks deserving glorie. But thou, rare Romane, rule with might and right: Let this be thy chief art, thy choice delight, To plant good laws in peace, to use most kinde Good subjects; but to curb the haughty minde. Thus grave Anchises: and, to their more wonder, Behold (sayes he) mightie Marcellus yonder: How he with spoiles most richly loaded goes, And all transcending, him great victour shows. He, he shall Rome from ruines re-advance, Curb and crush Carthage, and subdue all France▪ A third time shall to Iove, in sacrifice, Hang up the captive arms, his Martiall prize. And here Aeneas (for he saw in's sight A lovely lively youth in armour bright, But with a heavy look and cast-down eye) Sayes, Father, pray, who's that in's company? His sonne? or some of his renowned race? VVhat noise they make? see his most portly pace. VVhy do such dark black mists his head so hide? To whom Anchises, weeping, thus repli'de; Deare sonne, long not to know thy countreys woe: The fates this childe to th' world will onely show, And onely so: Rome (sure) seem'd too too great To you high Gods, if her imperiall seat

Had been perpetuall. O what sighs and cries Shall by his death unto great Rome arise I'th' field of Mars! what frequent funeralls Shalt thou, swift Tyber, in thy fluent falls Behold, as thou dost by his new grave glide. N••'re shall a sprig sprung from our Trojan side, Exalt Italian ancestours so fairely, Nor Rome triumph in any race so rarely. Alas, for his connative pietie! Alas, for faith spread by antiquitie, And Martiall spirit! what do these avail? Who, unreveng'd, durst him in arms assail? And or on horse or foot durst him encounter, But he was ever found his farre surmounter? Ah prince to be deplor'd! if fates decree (Hard fates) thou scape, thou shalt Marcellus be. O give me (now) handfulls of lilies faire, And let me strew, with store of violets rare, Those odoriferous gifts about the grave (Though all in vain) of this our kinsman brave. Thus in these sad complaints they stray about, And prie and spie all in those fields throughout. And when Anchises all to's sonne had shown, And fire of future fame in's heart had blown, At last he shews what battells he must fight, Latinus towns, Italians warre-like might; And how to beare, or forbeare, hazards all, Which could or should i'th' future him befall. There are (sayes he) two dormitive great gates, Th'one made of horn (as fame to us relates) By which true spirits have a passage right: Th'other of elephantine ivorie bright:

But false and fictious dreams soules this way send. When thus Anchises did his conference end, Both to his sonne, and to the Sibyll grave, Through th' ivorie gate he them free passage gave. He hastes to's fleet, revisits his old friends; And to Cateta's port his course he bends. Where they with joy their anchours all do cast, And there the fleet at shore is fixed fast.

An end of the sixth book of Virgils Aeneïds.