In this temple, Latinus, from his father’s throne, gave summons, And the Trojans entered, and he made them greeting In courteous oration: “Tell me, Trojans-- We know, you see, your city and race, your voyage Across the oceans--tell me your petition. What cause, what need, has brought you here? You have come Over the blue-green waters to Ausonia. Were you off your course, or driven by storm? Mischances On the high seas are not unknown to sailors. No matter: you have entered peaceful rivers, You rest in a good harbor. We bid you welcome. Do not avoid our friendship. We must tell you We Latins come from Saturn; we are people Whose sense of justice comes from our own nature And the custom of our god. No law, no bondage, Compels our decency. And I remember, Though it was long ago, some story told us By older men; it seems that Dardanus, An ancestor of yours, was born here, left here For towns in Phrygian Ida, and Thracian Samos, Or Samothrace, they call it now. He left here, When he departed, from his Tuscan dwelling Called Corythus, and now the golden palace Of starry sky receives him, throned in heaven, A god, who multiplies their count of altars.” Ilioneus answered:--“Son of Faunus, Great king, no tempest and no blackness drove us Over the waves to shelter here; no star, No shore, has fooled us in our voyage. We came on purpose, and with willing hearts, To this your city, exiled from a kingdom, The greatest, once, that ever the sun looked down on. We come from Jove; in Jove as ancestor The sons of Troy rejoice; our king, Aeneas, Himself is sprung from Jove; it is he who sent us To seek your threshold. No one in all the world, Whether he lives on the farthest edge of ocean, Whether he lives in the deepest heart of the tropics, No one, I think, but knows how fierce a storm-cloud Broke from Mycenae over the plains of Ida, And how two worlds, Europe and Asia, battled Driven by fate to war. We have been driven By that great tidal wave across vast oceans, And now we ask a little home, a harbor-- We will do no damage--for our country’s gods, We ask for nothing more than all should have, For air and water. You need not be sorry, We shall do nothing shameful in your kingdom, Your fame, your kindness, as we tell the story, Will grow in greatness. Ausonia, I promise, Will not regret receiving Troy. I swear it On our captain’s fate and honor, proven often In loyalty, in war. There are many nations, Nations and people both, who have often sought us, Wanted us for their allies--do not scorn us For coming as petitioners, with garlands, With suppliant words--it was the will of heaven That drove us to your shores. Dardanus came From here, and over and over again Apollo guides us