HKB
These answers, in the silent night receiv’d, The king himself divulg’d, the land believ’d: The fame thro’ all the neighb’ring nations flew, When now the Trojan navy was in view.
Beneath a shady tree, the hero spread His table on the turf, with cakes of bread; And, with his chiefs, on forest fruits he fed. They sate; and, (not without the god’s command,) Their homely fare dispatch’d, the hungry band Invade their trenchers next, and soon devour, To mend the scanty meal, their cakes of flour. Ascanius this observ’d, and smiling said: “See, we devour the plates on which we fed.” The speech had omen, that the Trojan race Should find repose, and this the time and place. Aeneas took the word, and thus replies, Confessing fate with wonder in his eyes: “All hail, O earth! all hail, my household gods! Behold the destin’d place of your abodes! For thus Anchises prophesied of old, And this our fatal place of rest foretold: ‘When, on a foreign shore, instead of meat, By famine forc’d, your trenchers you shall eat, Then ease your weary Trojans will attend, And the long labours of your voyage end. Remember on that happy coast to build, And with a trench inclose the fruitful field.’ This was that famine, this the fatal place Which ends the wand’ring of our exil’d race. Then, on tomorrow’s dawn, your care employ, To search the land, and where the cities lie, And what the men; but give this day to joy. Now pour to Jove; and, after Jove is blest, Call great Anchises to the genial feast: Crown high the goblets with a cheerful draught; Enjoy the present hour; adjourn the future thought.”
Thus having said, the hero bound his brows With leafy branches, then perform’d his vows; Adoring first the genius of the place, Then Earth, the mother of the heav’nly race, The nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown, And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable throne, And ancient Cybel, and Idaean Jove, And last his sire below, and mother queen above. Then heav’n’s high monarch thunder’d thrice aloud, And thrice he shook aloft a golden cloud. Soon thro’ the joyful camp a rumour flew, The time was come their city to renew. Then ev’ry brow with cheerful green is crown’d, The feasts are doubled, and the bowls go round.
When next the rosy morn disclos’d the day, The scouts to sev’ral parts divide their way, To learn the natives’ names, their towns explore, The coasts and trendings of the crooked shore: Here Tiber flows, and here Numicus stands; Here warlike Latins hold the happy lands. The pious chief, who sought by peaceful ways To found his empire, and his town to raise, A hundred youths from all his train selects, And to the Latian court their course directs, (The spacious palace where their prince resides,) And all their heads with wreaths of olive hides. They go commission’d to require a peace, And carry presents to procure access. Thus while they speed their pace, the prince designs His new-elected seat, and draws the lines. The Trojans round the place a rampire cast, And palisades about the trenches plac’d.
Meantime the train, proceeding on their way, From far the town and lofty tow’rs survey; At length approach the walls. Without the gate, They see the boys and Latian youth debate The martial prizes on the dusty plain: Some drive the cars, and some the coursers rein; Some bend the stubborn bow for victory, And some with darts their active sinews try. A posting messenger, dispatch’d from hence, Of this fair troop advis’d their aged prince, That foreign men of mighty stature came; Uncouth their habit, and unknown their name. The king ordains their entrance, and ascends His regal seat, surrounded by his friends.