The works of Publius Virgilius Maro translated by John Ogilby.

THE SIXTH BOOK OF VIRGIL'S AENEIS.

THE ARGUMENT

At Sybils cave Aeneas asks his fates; Inspir'd, she answers through a hundred gates. Misenus rites; the golden bough is found. Hells dismal passage, and the Stygian sound. Rude Charon pleas'd; a sop loud Cerberus takes. Sad souls hem'd in with nine infernal lakes. Dido is seen; Deiphobus appears. Hell and Elizium. Every thousand years Souls Lethe drink, and bodies reassume. Anchises shews his son those Lords of Rome Must spring from him; their character relates; And after lets him forth at ivory gates.

THus he said weeping, and with full saile stands, Gliding at last to the Euboick strands. They turn from Sea their prows, their ships they moare, And the tall Navy guards the winding shore. The glad vouth leap'd on land, streight some desire To force from flint the hidden seeds of fire.

Some teare the shelters of wild beasts, the woods, Whilst others looke about for fresher floods.

But good Aeneas sought high towrs which have Phoebus their Lord, dread Sibills woundrous cave, Secrets remote; on whom the God bestows An ample mind, and future things foreshews, To Dians growes and golden roofs they came,

Daedalus flying Minos realms, (they fame) To swift wings trusting boldly, through the skies A way untracted to the cold North flies, At last on Chalcis towre he stands, where he First lighting, Phoebus, gave his wings to thee; And a large Temple built; whose porch presents Androgeus death, Athenian punishments, (A wofull thing) leven children, the demands Annually paid, with lots the sad urne stands. Crete that survayes the Sea was opposite; A bulls dire love, Pasiphaes stolne delight, The mix'd race Minotaure, his Monstrous son, The monument of her foule lust was done. The structure, and the Labyrinth here was seen; But Daedalus pitying th'inamor'd Qneen. The art and windings of that house betraies, Shewing the clew; thou Icarus in these Shouldst a great part (had grief permitted) shar'd; To draw thy chance in gold he twice prepar d, Twice fell the fathers hands, Soon the whole frame, They had surva••d; but that Achates came And did the priestesse of great Phoebus bring Deiphobe, who thus bespake the King;

This is no time such sights to entertain; Then bids seaven steers from untouch'd heards be slaine, And as the custome equall sheep be paid. Having said there, the rites were not delaid,

And bids the Twojaus to the Temple come.

A cave was cut from a rocks vaster wombe, Whence through a hundred gates, a hundred ways, Sybil as many prophesies convayes. As he drew neer, the Virgin cries; Be bold To ask thy fate; The god the god behold This said, her colour chang'd; nor had her face And comely tresses, the same form or grace: But her swoln bosome pants, a mighty rage Doth all the faculties of her soul engage: Nor humane voice, greater she seems to be Inspired with th'approaching Deitie.

Trojan Aeneas, then aloud she said, Hast thou not made thy vowes? hast thou not praid? Nor vast gates of the fatal house till then Shall open. Here she silent was agen; And through the Trojans bones shot trembling feare; Whilst from his soul the King powrs forth his prayer.

O Phoebus, thou that strov'st still to protect Unhappy Troy, and didst the shaft direct, And Paris hand to wound Aeacides: I, led by thee, strange lands and many seas To the remote Massylian shores have past, And realms extended unto deserts vast. We Italies flying coasts at length have took, But by our own sad fortune not forsook. And all you Gods and Goddesses that were Foes to Troy's glory, now that nation spare, And you blest Prophetesse humbly I intreat, (I seek but realms are due to me by fate). That we in Latium may find new abodes, And habitations for our wand ring gods; I then to Phoebus and Diana shall A temple build of marble; where Ile call

On solemn dayes, on great Apollo's name, And in our realm Chappels for thee Ile frame, In which the fates and fortunes of our race Which pleas'd you now foretell, shall have their place; And there, blest maid, Ile consecrate choise men. Commit not unto leaves thy verses then, Lest they to wanton winds a sport be made: But sing thy self, I pray. He ends, this said.

But in the cave she furious takes no rest, Striving to shake the great God from her brest; Who tires her more, her raging mouth he frames, And by constraining her fierce bosome tames. The hundred gates themselves now open fling, And through the aire Sibylla's answer bring.

Thou scap'd from dangers of the sea, far more Remain at land; the Trojans shall the shore Of Latium find; thy breast from such cares free, And soon repent: Wars, horrid wars I see, And Tyber swell'd with blood, nor shalt thou misse Greek camps, a Xanthus and a Symois, A new Achilles of a Goddesse come, And you shall Juno find in Latium. What people, what Italian seats in want, Shalt thou not sue to as a suppliant? A wife shall cause again the Trojan woe, And forrain marriage. Yet dangers fear not, but on bolder goe, What course thy fortune grants, thy first supplies Which thou least thinks, from a Greek seat shall rise.

These horrid circumstances from her cell, Cumean Sibyl bellowing did foretell, With dark phrase clouding truth: then Phoebus shakes His reins, and her chaf'd heart more fury takes.

When she grew calme and her wild rage alaid; Aeneas spake; Not any toyle, O Maid, To me an new unlook'd for shape presents, I foresee all, and cast their worst events. One boone I crave (since to infernall realms This way conducts and Acherons dismal streames) That I my dearest father may behold. Open the way, inchaunted gates unfold; Him I from thousand weapons through the flame Brought on my shoulders, through an hoast I came, He me accompanied through all the maine And weake did threatning seas and skyes ••••••taine Above the strength, and temper of his age. Us at thy gates t' attend, he did ingage. O pitie then the father and the sonne Blest Maid, for all things can by thee be done. Nor Hecate plac'd thee ore those groves in vaine. If Orpheus could Eurydice regaine, Help'd by his Thracian lyres sweet harmony; Could Pollux by alternate dying free His brother and returne? why should I name Theseus, Alcides? that from Jove I came?

Such things he pray'd, and by the altars hung. Then she replyde; Trojan Aeneas, sprung From blood of Gods: to hel's an easie way, Black Pluto's gates stand open night: And day But to return, and the bright aire to view, This is the worke, the labour of a few, Whom Jove esteems, or vertue hath rais'd high, And sprung from Gods Woods in the middle lie, And round, Cocytus motes with a black lake. If so great love, if such desires thee take, Twice to swim Styx, black hell twice to survay, And to strange toyles th' art pleas'd to give such way,

Hear thy first task. A golden bough doth lie, With shining leaves hid in a shady tree; Sacred t'infernall Juno this is said; This the whole woods, and obscure valleys shade: To visit parts below all are restrain'd Untill the bough with golden leaves is gain'd, Which to fair Proserpine must presented be. This pluck'd, another golden from the tree Sprouts with like metal; with your eye search round, And breake it gently off, when it is found. If fates call thee, it will with ease be gain'd, Else not by ••y violence constrain'd: Nor shall by thee with hardest steele be got, But now thy dead friend, ah thou knowst it not, The whole fleet with his corps contaminates, Whilst thou consulting at our threshold waits; Him first in quiet shade intombe; then bring. Black sheep, an expiating offering; Darke reasms deny de the living thou mayst then Behold. This said, she silent was agen.

Aeneas with fix'd eyes, and sad lookes went, And leaves the cave musing the sad event; Faithfull Achates his companion goes With equall steps, dividing equall woes; Betwixt themselves many conjectures, whom She meant was dead, what corps they should intombe. When as they go, they saw Misenus left On the dry shore, by a sad death bereft. Misenus, none more excellent was found, T inflame to battell by his trumpets sound; Great Hectors friend, who with him fights atchiev'd, Whom, when Achilles had of life depriv'd, This valiant Heroe to Aeneas joynd, Who nothing was in feats of War behind,

But sounding his shrill trumpet towards the seas And fondly challenging the deities; Him, emulous Triton (if it credit have) Among the rocks, drown'd in a foamy wave.

Groaning with great complaints, about they stand; Pious Aeneas chief: Sybils command Weeping they haste, and with heap'd wood the while Up to high heaven they rear his funerall pile,

He visits an old wood, where wild beasts dwel, Elms ring with axes, and tall Cedars fell, They trunks of ash, and oke with wedges rive, And down the hils, woods of wild ashes drive. Amidst the works, Aeneas formost cheer'd His friends, and girded with like arms appear'd. When with a sad heart to himself he said, Viewing the mighty wood, and thus he praid;

O that the golden bough it self would shew, In this huge grove, since all hath proved too true Of thee Misenus, which the Priestesse said. Scarce spoke: when from the skies two pigeons made Their flight to him, and to the green earth drew. His mothers doves soon the great Heroe knew: And joyfull praid; If through those tracts above Lies any way, direct me to the grove, Where the rich bough the fertile soyle doth shade: Blest mother help, still reay to my aid. These having spake, on cheerfully he went, Their flight observing, and what course they bent. But feeding they, no farther distance flew, Then they which follow with clear sight may view. Thence to Avernus noisome gulph they fly A nimble course, and cut the liquid sky: On seats descride, two boughs they pearch'd, whence raies Through branches of discolour'd gold displays.

As in the woods oft times a tree will shew, Fresh in cold winter, green with mislletoe; And a new leafe not from her own sap shoots, Embracing the smooth bole with blushing fruits. So from the shady elme the branches shinde, The spangles crackling with the gentle wind, Th'unwilling branch straight down Aeneas tore, And to the Prophetesse Sybilla bore.

Nor lesse mean while Trojans Misenus mourn, And his sad dust with funerall rites adorn. First a huge pile with sappy pine erect, And cloven oke, with sable branches deckt: About the sides they mournful cypresse place, And with his shining arms the structure grace. Some water warme, the flowing Caldron swims Ore flames; they bathe, and 'noint, his frigid limbs. Then with a groan him on the biere they lay: Above his purple vest, known weeds display. Part, a sad work, take up the ponderous hearse, And as the ancient use, faces reverse Held to the torch; full bowls of oyl they turn, And gifts of frankincense congested burn.

After the ashes fell, and flames decline, The reliques, and dry sparks they quench in wine, In brasse the bones then Chorineus urns, About his mates twice with pure water turns, And he from boughs of happy olive spread Light dews: and they being purg'd, the last words said. But good Aeneas a huge tombe did raise, On which his arms, his oare, and trumpet lays, Under a mighty hill which now they call From him Misenus, and for ever shall. This, done he did Sybils commands dispatch.

There was a deep cave with a mighty breach,

With black lakes moted, and a horrid grove, Ore which not safely swiftest wings could move, Such were the vapours from those fowl jaws came; This place the Graecians did Avernus name.

Here first he foure black bullocks did designe The Priest upon the forehead powring wine, Haire pluck'd betwixt the horns, on sacred flame Lays the prime gift, calling on Hecats name, Powerfull in heaven, and hell: with knives some stood Prepar'd, and sav'd in bouls the reeking blood, A black fleec'd lambe pious Aeneas slew, The furies mother, and great sisters dew, A barren Cow, thee Proserpine they bring, Then rear night altars to the Stygian King: And buls firme entrals on the flames did pile, And poure on scorching bowels purest oyl. When with the dawn behold! and rising sun, Beneath their feet earth groans, the cliffs begun Of the high woods to move, dogs in the shade Howle as the Goddesse her approaches made.

Far, O far off from hence, be all prophane, (The Priestesse cries) and from the Grove abstain; And thou Aeneas draw thy sword, and go, Now courage needs, now thy great valour shew. This said, in th'open cave the Furious leaps, As fast he follows with undaunted steps.

You Gods who souls command, and silent ghosts, Phlegeton, Chaos, nights vast dismall coasts. Grant I declare things heard, by your aid shew What earth and darknesse long hath hid below. Obscur'd through shades, and wofull night they past Through Pluto's empty courts, and kingdoms waste. As through dark woods, when a new moon displaid Pale beams, and Jove the sky hides with a shade,

And black night colour did from things compell. Just at the door, before the gates of hell, Sorrow repos'd, with her revenging Rage, Pale sicknesses and discontented age, Fear, with dire Famine, and base Povertie, Labour and death, shapes terrible to see. Then sleep allied to Death, and fond joys are Plac'd on the other side, with deadly War, On iron beds, Furies and Discord sit, Their viperous hair with bloody fillets knit.

Here a dark elme, did ancient boughs display, The seat (as they report) where vain dreams lay, And stuck 〈◊〉〈◊〉 every leafe: then a huge brood Of various monsters, biform'd Scylla stood, And Centaitrs in the porch; with hundred hands Briareus and the Lernian Hydra stands, Chymera hissing loud, and arm'd with fire, The triple shade, Gorgons and Harpyes dire. Aeneas draws, then struck with sudden fear, Opposing the sharp point to them drew neer. But that his learn'd companion him perswades, They were but fleeting forms, and empty shades, In vain he had attempted ghosts to wound.

Hence led the way to th' Acherontick sound; With a vast gulph here whirlpits vext with mud, Boyling casts sands up from the Stygian flood. Charon the horrid ferry-man these deeps With dreadiul squallidnesse, and river keeps. His untrim'd cheeks were rough with hoary hair, Knotty his beard, his firy eyes did stare, Tye'd on his shoulders hung a sordid coat; He trims his sails, drives with a pole his boat, And in his rusty bark wafts Passengers; The God was youthful still, though struck in years.

Here all the scatter'd throngs rush to these coasts, Men, Women came, and valiant Hero's Ghosts, Depriv'd of life; boys, virgins, young men, here Before their Parents laid upon the bier.

As in first cold of autumne from the trees The leaves fall thick, or to the shore from seas The birds repair in flocks, when early frosts Drive them from water unto warmer coasts. They stand, and first for passages implore, Their hands lift up, longing for th'other shore; But the grim wafter these, now them receives, But others far off on the sand he leaves.

Aeneas wondring at the tumult, said Wherefore this concourse to the streams, O maid? Say what these souls require, why those the shores. Forsake, and other billows roul with oars. Brief, th'aged Priestesse thus to him replies. Anchises son, sure stock of deities, Thou Styx, Cocytus view'st, by this to swear And to deceive the power, the Gods do fear. All those sad troops thou seest, are not interr'd; That Charon; those he wafts are sepulcher'd. Untill their bones in quiet rest, before, None passe these hoarce waves to the horrid shore. A hundred years to wander here they'are bound, Permitted then to passe the Stygian sound.

The Prince at this no further did advance, And full of thoughts, pitying their sad mischance, Leucaspes and Orontes there he spies, The Lycian chief, sad, wanting obsequies; Whom the black south o're set with tempest, when They sail'd to Troy, waves swallowing ship and men. Lo! Palinure the master next appear'd, Whom whilst by stars from Lybia he steer'd,

Fell mid'st the waves, and tumbles with the stern, Him when he could in so much shade discern, O Palinure, first said what deitie Snatch'd thee from us and drown'd amid'st the Sea, Speak; for to me still Phoebus words prov'd true, But onely in my hopes concerning you. He said, thou safe to Latium through the seas, Shouldst passe; behold! Are these his promises?

Great Trojan Prince, Phoebus deceiv'd not thee, Said Palinure, nor hath the God drown'd me; For the torne rudder grasping with much force, As to my charge I stuck, and steer'd my course, With it I fell, by the rough seas I sweare, Nor for my selfe conceiv'd I so much feare, But that the Master wanting at the helme, Such swelling waves thy ship might overwhelme. Three stormie nights rough south winds carried me Through the vast waves; the fourth dawne, Italy Rais'd on a swelling wave I saw, and swam Softly to shore, and to firm footing came, When cruel men on me with weapons set, Grasping rough bancks, loaden with garments wet, Who ignorantly tooke me for a prey; The waves possesse me now, and in the sea The winds oft rowle my body to the shore; But by heavens pleasant light I thee implore, Py thy deare Father, and thy hopefull heire Take me from hence great Prince, or else interre (For thou hast power) and seeke m'in Velins bay. Or if thy mother Venus shew the way, (For I beleeve without some aiding God Thou com'st not now, to faile this dreadful flood) Then helpe a wretch, and me transport with thee, That I at last in death may quiet be.

This said, then Sybill thus her selfe exprest,

Whence Palinurus, comes this strange request? Wouldst thou unburied, Styx, the furies Lake, Behold, and without leave these shores forsake? Desist to hope that fates will heare thy prayer; But take this comfort to appease thy care. The neighbouring Cities shall thy bones interre, And mov'd by omens, build thy sepulchre; Then to thy tombe pay yearly rites, and shall The place for ever Palinurus call. These words appeas'd his cares, and griefe ore-came, Proud of a countrey that should beare his name.

Then on they went, and to the stream drew nigh. As Charon these from Stygian waves did spie Bending through silent groves, to his fad strands: Thus rudely first begins, and threatning stands.

Who ere thus arm'd approachest to our streams, Your businesse tell: this is the place of dreams, Of shades, and drousie night; depart, nor can My Stygian boat transport a living man. Nor pleas'd it me to waft ore Stygian seas, Theseus, Perithous, nor great Hercules, Though sprung from Gods, men never vanquished. From our Kings Throne, in chains Alcides led Hels porter trembling, the other did combine To take from Plutoe's bed chast Proserpine.

Then Sybill said, give not such way to rage, Here are no stratagems nor arms t'ingage A violence; let hels Porter ever lye In's kennell, and pale Shadowes terrifie; Still in her Uncles Court the Queen may be. Aeneas fam'd for armes and pietie, To see his father, through darke shades descends. If thee no shape of such affection bends,

Behold this bough (which hidden in her vest She shewes) then swelling rage forsakes his breast: Nor more he said, but the strange gift admires, The fatall bough not seen in many years. Then turns his sable vessel toward the strand, Thence drives those Ghosts sate waiting on the sand, Opens his hatches, and receives his freight. The craz'd boat groanes with great Aeneas weight, And leakie drunck much water; safe at last He with the Priestesse and Aeneas past, And free from foule mud, 'mongst black rushes lands.

From triple jawes great Cerberus through those strdans Still barks, and huge in a vast kennell lies. When she his neck dreadfull with serpents spies, She casts to him a soporiferous bit: He opens his three mouths to swallow it, Then being laid, stretcht forth his long back lies Measuring his kennell with his mighty sise. Aeneas past, whilst Cerberus sleeps, and leaves The shores of irrenavigable waves.

Then they heard voices, and a mighty cry Of Infants weeping, which in th'entrance lie; Whom from sweet life a wofull death did call From the loved teate, with timelesse funerall; Next, those who falsly were condemn'd to die, And did not without Lot or judgement lie. Minos being plac'd, a silent councell cals, And lives examines of the criminals.

Next after these, those wretched Ghosts recide, Who nating life, have by their own hands dyde, And lost their soules: who now to live again Would not hard toyle and poverty disdain; Them fates deny, and the most dreadfull sound Binds in, and Stix nine times incircles round.

Not farre from hence they to large champaigns came, The fields of sorrow call'd, such was the name; Here those whom cruell love with griefe devours, Did haunt close walks, conceal'd in mirtle bowres, Nor in their death relinquish they their woes; There Phedra, Procris, and Euryphile goes, Shewing those wounds her son had made, he saw Pasiphae, Evadne, Laodomia, Coeneus with them, now woman, once a man, Whom fates restor'd to her own sex againe.

Amongst these, Dido wandred the great wood, With a fresh wound, whom, as Troys Heroe stood, And drawing nigh, through obscure shades he knew: Such in her prime, the rising moon we view, Or seeme at least to see, through clouds displaid: Powring forth tears, then with sweet love he said;

Ah haplesse Dido, truth that newes did tell Which said thou'rt dead, and by thy own hand fell. I was the cause; now by the stars I vow, By Gods, and faith, if any is below, Unwillingly best Queen, I left thy lands, But was inforced by the gods commands: Who now compell me through these shades to passe, Through deepest night, and this most dismall place. Nor my departure could I ere suppose Could thee, alas, ingage in so much woes. O stay, and part not thus. whom fly'st thou? me? We nere shall meet againe, so fates decree. These to her vext and frowning he declares Her to appease, but forceth his own tears: Fix'd on the earth her eyes averse she held, Nor was to change no more with words compeld, Then if hard flint, or Parian Rocks had stood: Then flyes displeas'd, and seeks some shady wood;

To her first Lord Sichaeus she repaires, Who answers all her love, and meets her cares. Aeneas no lesse strucken with these woes, Follows with tears, lamenting as he goes. Thence on they passe, to fields remote they went, And Groves where souls renown'd in war frequent; Valiant Parthenopus and Tydeus here With pale Adrastus shade, did first appear; Those much above lamented, in a train, He all those Dardans saw in battel slain; Glaucus, and Medon, Thersilocus he moans, Polybetes Ceres Priest, Antenors sons, Idaeus in's chariot arm'd; thick souls frequent Now on each hand, nor i'st sufficient To see him once, to tary they desire, And walk with him, his coming they inquire. But the Greek Captains, Agamemnon's bands, Viewing the mans bright arms through shadie strands, Shake with huge feare: part, as in times past, fly To seek their ships, part raise a feeble cry, And the rais'd clamour in the utterance dies.

Here Priams son Deiphobus he spies, Wounded all ore; his mangled face appears, His face and hands, his head dispoil'd of ears, With a dishonour'd wound his ravisht nose; Him pale, and dire wounds hiding, scarce he knowes; At last with known voice spake: O valiant Deiphobus, of Teucers high descent, Whom could such cruel punishments delight? Who had the power? that last and woful night, I heard that thou with Graecian slaughter tir'd, Upon a heap of confus'd corps expir'd. An empty tombe I on the Rhetian coast Have rear'd, and thrice aloud implor'd thy Ghost;

There are thy arms and name; but thee not found, I could not bury friend in native ground.

Then he: Nothing dear friend didst thou neglect; All rites are paid, my tombe thou didst erect: But my own fates, curst Helen me bereft, Drown'd in these woes, and she these monuments left. For as thou knowst, we past with false delight Never to be forgot, that last sad night, When through great Troy the fatal horse did come, And pregnant with an army in his wombe; She fain'd a dance, and Phrygian dames in wild Orgies she led, amidst a huge torch held, And cals the Grecians from a battlement. Tird with my cares, and drowsie, then I went To my unhappy bed, where in calme rest I slept as with the charms of death possest. Mean while my dear wife took my arms away, And from my head did my good sword convay, Opens the gates, lets Menelaus in, Hoping by this great act his love to win, And past offences to extinguish thus. They rush in (to be brief) with Ithacus Plotter of mischief; heaven such Greeks repay, If for revenge with pious lips I pray. But tell what chance thee living hither sent, Driven by storms, or by the gods consent? Or by what fortune brought, that thou resorts To these dark places, sad and dismal courts.

By this the morn in her bright chariot ran Betwixt the poles to heavens Meridian, And th' whole time granted they had thus delaid; But Sybil them advis d, and briefly said:

Night hastes, O Prince, and houres in weeping glide, This is the place where the two wayes divide;

the right, which to great Pluto's Pallace bends, T'Elizum leads; the left, to hell descends, Where wicked men receive their punishment.

Deiphabus said, great Priestesse be content, I shall depart, and fill in shades the list. But go you on and better fates assist. This said, he takes his leave. On his left side, Aeneas then under a Rock espide A mighty fort surrounded with three wals, Where Phlegeton with a swift current fals Of flaming waves: rowling huge stones along, The gates on adamatine pillars hung; No strength of men, of steel, nor gods, has power This to destroy, high stands the brazen towre. Girt in a bloody robe Tisiphone keeps The entrance night and day, and never sleeps. Hence cruel lashes sound and groaning pains, Clashing of steel, and ratling of huge chains.

Amaz'd Aeneas stands, and frighted said, What dreadful sights are these, declare O maid. What are these tortures? whence these hideous cries? Renowned Trojan, Sybill then replies, In this dire place none but the guilty are: When Hecate left these dark groves to my care, She shew'd me all their pains, and lead each way.

Stern Gnossian Radamanth these realms doth sway, Hears and corrects their crimes, forcing to tell What they 'mongst mortals vainly did conceal, Sins which at late death unrepented were. Then fierce Tisiphone makes the guilty fear, Shaking her whip from her left hand extends Her twisted snakes, and cals the cruel friends: On groning hinges then th' inchanted gates Are open'd straight; seest thou what porter waits

In th'entrance there, what monster keeps the dore? Hydra with fifty ugly jawes: one more Cruell then this by far, within doth dwell, Whence two steepe wayes lead headlong down to hell: So far it doth beneath earths surface lye, As tall Olympus thrusts into the sky.

Here young Titanians are, earths ancien race, Struck down with thunder to the lowest place. There saw I both th' ••••lodies, those vast Gyants, who strove heavens fabricks to have raz'd, And Jove t'have thrust from heavens high Monarchie. And saw Salmonius in great tortures lie, Whil'st he heavens fire, and thunder imitates, Brandishing flames, and through the Grecian states, Borne on fowre steeds, proudly through Elis drives With fond pretence to heavens prerogatives: Who did in imitable fire and raine, With brasse, and speed of horne hoof'd horses, feign. Then through the clouds from Jove almighty came A dart, he sends no brands, nor earthy flame, And headlong him with inrag'd whitlwinds queld.

Th'all bearing earths son Tityus, I beheld There, whose vast corps did nine whole acres fill, And a huge vulture with a hooked bill His bowels and immortall liver search'd, Fresh food for pains, and on's breast tiering peach'd, To his renewing veins allows no ease.

What need I mention both the Lapithes, A black stone seems now falling on their heads; Golden frames shine with high and geniall beds, Before them cates, with kingly luxuries; But not far off the greatest furie lies, Forbids to eat, and rising from the ground, Swings her black torch, and makes a thundring sound,

Here those who living, did their brothers hate, Murther'd their sires, to clients us'd deceit, Or who alone brooding on riches lie, Lending to none, the greatest companie; Who slain for lust, who impious arms persu'd, Nor fear'd the trust of Princes to delude. Here meet their dooms: Seek not these woes to sound, Nor by what way fate did their souls confound. These roll huge stones, and stretch'd on wheels do lye. There Theseus sits, and shall eternally. Aloud through shades sad Phlegyas warning cries, Admonish'd, justice learn, nor Gods despise. This to a potent Prince his country sold, And laws enacted, and repeal'd for gold; This beds his daughter, and no incest spar'd; All dar'd strange crimes, and thriv'd in what they dar'd. Had I a hundred mouths, as many tongues, A voice of iron, to these had brazen lungs; Their crimes and tortures ne're could be displaid.

When Phoebus aged Priestesse thus had said, Go on, she bids, and finish your intents, I see the Cyclops forged battlements And ports which stand with obvious arches; there To place the present, we commanded were. Then through dark wayes they went with equal pace, The mid path taking, and approach the place: Aeneas came to th'porch, and purg'd with cleere Water, the golden bough he fixed there.

These rites perform'd, the Goddesse gift being plac'd, In joyful places they arriv'd at last, And came to groves where happy souls do rest In pleasant greens, the dwellings of the blest.

Here larger skies did cloath with purple rayes The field, which their own Sun and Stars obeys. Some in green meads their time in wrastling spend. Some gallantly on the bright sand contend, Some graceful footing with a song present. In a long robe the Thracian Poet went, On seven sweet strings he descants sacred laies, His hand now strikes, his ivory quill now playes.

Here Teucers old line, a fair race appears, 'Most valiant Heroes, borne in be ter years, Ilus, Asaracus, and who built Troy's spires, Their arms and empty chariots he admires, Their spears stuck down, their horses through the ground Carelesly fed; and what delight they found In arms, or chariots, or brave steeds alive, That pleasure under earth did still survive. Others he saw on each side banquetting, And in a solemn dance glad Paeans sing, Shaded with odorous Laurel, by whose woods Eridanus rising, rowls his swelling floods. And here were those did for their countrey die, With Priests who in their lives vow'd chastitie; And sacred Poets who pleas'd Phoebus best, Or by invented arts mans life assist, And others in their memories renown'd, Their temples all with snowie garlands bound.

To those about her thus Sybilla sayes, But to Musaeus first, who midst them was, And taller by the head then all the rest; Say blessed souls, and thou of Poets best, Where is Anchises seat•• to him we come, And the great streams of Erebus have swom. To whom the Heroe in few words again: We have no certain places, we remain

On beds of grasse, and walk in shadie woods And meadows ever fresh with chrystal floods. But if you please t'ascend this rising brow, I shall the most convenient passage shew.

This said, he went before, and a fair plain Discovering there, thence they descend again. But old Anchises sought with mighty care Souls which in pleasant vales confined were, Which soon must view th' aetherial skies; where he Numbred his own renowned progenie, Their manners, power, their riches, and their doom. When towards him he saw Aeneas come, Through pleasant greens, joyful, his hands did raise, And bathing of his cheeks with tears, thus sayes. Thou com'st at last, and thy great love to me Hath vanquish'd the hard journey; I may see Thee now dear son, and change discourses here; Thus I forethought, and judg'd the time drew neer: Nor hath my care deceiv'd me; from what coast Through vast seas com'st thou, with what perils tost, That now I meet thee here? my mind misgave Lest thou in Lybia some mischance might have. But he: Dear father thy, thy woful shade Appearing oft, this journey did perswade: Our fleet hides Tyrrhen shores; grant, grant that we May joyn right hands, nor our imbraces flee. Large floods then drown'd his cheeks; thrice he assaid T'infold his neck, three times the fleeting shade In vain he with extended arms assails. Which like a swift dream flies, or nimble gales.

When in a winding vale Aeneas fees A secret grove, and far off murmuring trees And pleasant seats, which Lethe warer'd; here People in numerous nations did appeare:

And as in meads, the bees, in the bright spring Sit on the various flowres, incircleing Bright lilleys, and all the fields resound with noise. Aeneas being ignorant, asks the cause, Struck with the sight, what were those streams, wherefore Such multitudes of men had fill'd the shore; Anchises then: Those souls to whom fates owe New bodies, where the streams of Lethe flow, Drink secure draughts, and long oblivion. These I desir'd to thee should be foreshown, And these our stock to number: whence the more Thou mayst rejoyce finding th' Ausonian shore. O sir, must such pure souls aetherial aire Review again, and to dull flesh repaire. Why have the wretches such a strange delight To visit day. I shall the cause recite, Nor will I hold thee in sulpence, dear son; Then thus Anchises orderly went on.

At first the heaven, and earth, the liquid plain, The moons bright globe, and stars Titanian, A spirit fed within, spread through the whole, And with the huge heap mix'd infus'd a soule. Hence man, and beasts, and birds derive their strain, And monsters floating in the marbled main. These seeds have fiery vigour and a birth Of heavenly race; but clog'd with heavy earth, Which their dull limbs and dying members drown'd: Hence fears, and hopes, sorrows, and joy abound; Shut in dark flesh their natures they forget; But when their latest light and life is set, Not all woes leave them, nor all tortures quite Forsake the wretches there; and 'tis but right; Things strangely grown by custome into crimes, They must be punish'd for their mispent times,

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And tortures feele; some in the winds are hung, Others to clense their spotted sins are flung In a vast gulph, or purg'd in fire they are: We all have our own tortures: then repare T'Elizium and some few blest seates obtaine, Till length of time purg their contracted staine, And leave a fire clens'd from all earthly sence, A pure aetherial intelligence. When thousand yeares have fil'd their period, All these God calls in troups to Lethes flood, To th ••nd that they forgetfull of what's past, May reascend, and bodies take at last. Anchises then his son and her (this said) 'Mongst busie troups, and noysfull throngs convaid, Then takes a hill from whence they might discerne Them march in order, and their faces learne.

Now comes thy glory, and the Dardan race, Nephews which shall in Latium have great place. Illustrious souls, to whom our name must be. In briefe, Ile shew thee thy own destiny.

Seest thou that youth, who leans upon his lance? Next lots shall him t'aetheriall aire advance: Sylvius, and Alban name, thy posthume race, Sprung from Italian blood shall next take place: To thee then old, thy wife Lavinia brings Him forth in woods, a King, and sire of Kings, From whom our race shall in long Alba reign. Next Procus glory of the Dardan strain, Numitor, ••apys, Sylvius nam'd from thee Aeneas match'd in arms and piety, If he at any time rule Alba. View Now thore brave youths, and what great strength they shew; These shall with civick wreaths their temples bound, Nomentum, Gabii, Fidena found;

These Collatine towrs famous for chastity Shall raise 'mongst hils, and proud Pometii, And Inous city, Bola, Cora frame, Thus cal'd hereafter, now without a name. Then Martial Romulus shall himself conjoyn Companion to his grandsire from the line Of great Assaracus, whom Ilia bare. Behold a double crown impails his hair; Jove this shall honour as himself (dear son) He shall to Rome give earths dominion, Her fame to heav'n advance, inclosing then Seven hils with wals, happy with valiant men.

As Berecinthia crown'd with turrets rides Through Phrygian cities, joyfull: by her sides, Her race of Gods a hundred she imbrac'd, All heav'ns inhabitants supreamly plac'd.

But here bend both thine eyes, this off-spring see, Thy Roman Caesar Julius Progenie Must heav'ns great axe next scale: this, this, the Prince That was so often promis'd thee long since! Augustus Caesar, sprung of Gods, once more To Latium shall the golden age restore, Where Saturn reign'd, and stretch his proud command Past Garamant and Inde: there lies a land Beyond the year and Sun, where Atlas bears Heav'ns axeltree adorn'd with shining stars; The Caspian and Meotick lands, when he Draws nigh, heav'ns oracles shall terrifie, And Nile shall tremble in his seven fold streams; Nor did Alcides know so many realms, Though the swift stag and boar he did subdue, And with his shafts in Lerna Hydra slew; Nor conqu'ring Bacchus who joyn'd tygers bent, With viney reins, from Nisa's steep descent.

Doubt we to raise our glory then, shall we Dispair to plant our selves in Italie. What's he far off grac'd with the olive bough Presenting offerings? his white chin I know; A Roman King, whose laws first setled Rome, And from small Curets, a poor soyl shall come To great command; next Tullus who shall break His countreys peace, and sloathful People make Who knew no triumphs, active in the Wan. Next him comes Ancus, one more haughty far, And swoln with popular breath; wouldst thou behold The Tar quine Princes, and the mighty should, Revengeful Brutus, who the fasces had, Sharp axes, and was first a Consul made. Who th'haplesse sire shall cause his son to die, Raising new war, for specious liberty: How ere posterity the fact shall doome, Him love of fame, and's countrey did o'recome. The Decii, Drusii, stern Torquates see; Camillus full of gold and victory. But these behold, whose like arms shine so bright, Concording souls, now hid in shady night: Ah when they live, what wars shall they maintain, Opposing each! what fights, what numbers slain! From the steep Alpes, and the Meotick towers. The sire descends, the son brings Eastern powers. Do not brave youth in such a war contend, Nor with such force your countreys bowels rend. But thou my blood who draw'st from heaven thy race, First pitty, and thy arms lay down. Fam'd with Greek slaughters he a Conquerour shall From Corinth proudly to the Capitoll His chariot drive; Argos, Micene, deface, And shall revenge on great Achilles race,

Old Troy, and temples which prophaned be. Who could forget great Cato Gracchi, thee Cossus, or the thunderboults in Warre Those Scipio's, who the Lybian conquerours were: Temperate Fabricius, or Serranus thee Holding the Plow! where will the F••bii me Ttansport! thou Maximus the only man Who by delayes Romes fortune must regaine, Others I grant shall mould respiring brasse, And cut in marble a most lively face; Some better plead, and some Astronomers, Describe heavens motion and the rising stars: Be thou ambitious how to govern best, In these arts, Roman, thou must be profest. That we a peace well grounded may injoy, Subjects to spare, and Rebels to destroy.

Anchises said, they wondring all the while, Marcellus view, glorious in wealthy spoyle; This conquerour doth in vertue all orecome, And shall in mightiest tumults calme great Rome, The Punie wast, and Gaules most rebel swarms, And thrice to Romulus dedicate their arms.

Aeneas here (for he a youth beheld March in bright arms, whose personage exceld But with sad lookes, and a dejected face) Said, who is this? with him keeps equall pace, Is he his son, or one of of his great stock? How like himselfe! what noyse! what suters flock! But black night with sad clouds, involves his head. Then with abortive tears Anchises said, Know not, deare son, great sorrowes of thy own: This to the world by fates shall be but shown, Then snatch'd away; Romes stock too great had seem'd, Should the Gods grant a gift so much esteem'd.

What grones from Mars his campe afflict great Rome, Tyber, when gliding by his new made tombe, What funeralls wilt thou see! nor any shall Like him who sprung from Troys originall Raise Latium's hope: and never Roman earth Shall boast her selfe to foster such a birth. Ah piety, ancient faith, th'unconquer'd hand, None shall him arm'd with any power withstand: Whether on foot he comes, to charge his foe, Or from his foamie steed makes blood to flow. O youth to be lamented, thou shalt be Marcellus, if thou break'st thy destiny. Handfuls of Lillys bring, and purple flowers, That I may strew this noble soul of ours, And heap with gifts. Thns through all parts they went And saw the vast aeriall continent. Then with his son alone Anchises came, And fires his mind with love of future fame; After to him he did the War relate, Laurentian people, and Latinus state, And how all toyles should be eschew'd or borne.

There are two gates of sleep, the one is horne, From whence with passage free true visions fly: The other faire, shines with bright Ivory; This to the skies in sleep false Manes beares. These, whil'st to's son and Sybill he declares, Anchises lets him forth at Ivory gates. He streight to's Fleet went, and reviews his mates, And to Caieta came, where then abode His navie, and at anchor fafely roade.