XXV. If aught of Phrygian biremes he discern Antheus or Capys, tost upon the seas, Or arms of brave Caicus high astern. No sail, but wandering on the shore he sees Three stags, and, grazing up the vale at ease, The whole herd troops behind them in a row. He stops, and from Achates hastes to seize His chance-brought arms, the arrows and the bow, The branching antlers smites, and lays the leader low. XXVI. Next fall the herd; and through the leafy glade In mingled rout he drives the scattered train, Plying his shafts, nor stays his conquering raid Till seven huge bodies on the ground lie slain, The number of his vessels; then again He seeks the crews, and gives a deer to each, Then opes the casks, which good Acestes, fain At parting, filled on the Trinacrian beach, And shares the wine, and soothes their drooping hearts with speech. XXVII. "Comrades! of ills not ignorant; far more Than these ye suffered, and to these as well Will Jove give ending, as he gave before. Ye know mad Scylla, and her monsters' yell, And the dark caverns where the Cyclops dwell. Fear not; take heart; hereafter, it may be These too will yield a pleasant tale to tell. Through shifting hazards, by the Fates' decree, To Latin shores we steer, our promised land to see. XXVIII. "There quiet settlements the Fates display, There Troy her ruined fortunes shall repair. Bear up; reserve you for a happier day." He spake, and heart-sick with a load of care, Suppressed his grief, and feigned a cheerful air. All straightway gird them to the feast. These flay The ribs and thighs, and lay the entrails bare. Those slice the flesh, and split the quivering prey, And tend the fires and set the cauldrons in array. XXIX. So wine and venison, to their hearts' desire, Refreshed their strength. And when the feast was sped, Their missing friends in converse they require, Doubtful to deem them, betwixt hope and dread, Alive or out of hearing with the dead. All mourned, but good AEneas mourned the most, And bitter tears for Amycus he shed, Gyas, Cloanthus, bravest of his host, Lycus, Orontes bold, all counted with the lost. XXX. Now came an end of mourning and of woe, When Jove, surveying from his prospect high Shore, sail-winged sea, and peopled earth below, Stood, musing, on the summit of the sky, And on the Libyan kingdom fixed his eye, To him, such cares revolving in his breast, Her shining eyes suffused with tears, came nigh Fair Venus, for her darling son distrest, And thus in sorrowing tones the Sire of heaven addressed;