To seek a refuge in remote abodes. Last, to support her in so long a way, He shows her where his hidden treasure lay. Admonished thus, and seized with mortal fright, The queen provides companions of her flight: They meet, and all combine to leave the state, Who hate the tyrant, or who fear his hate. They seize a fleet, which ready rigged they find; Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind. The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea With prosperous winds; a woman leads the way. I know not, if by stress of weather driven, Or was their fatal course disposed by heaven; At last they landed, where from far your eyes May view the turrets of new Carthage rise; There bought a space of ground, which (Byrsa called, From the bull's hide) they first inclosed, and walled. But whence are you? what country claims your birth? What seek you, strangers, on our Libyan earth?" To whom, with sorrow streaming from his eyes, And deeply sighing, thus her son replies:-- "Could you with patience hear, or I relate, O nymph! the tedious annals of our fate, Through such a train of woes if I should run, The day would sooner than the tale be done. From ancient Troy, by force expelled, we came-- If you by chance have heard the Trojan name. On various seas by various tempests tossed, At length we landed on your Libyan coast. The good Æneas am I called--a name, While Fortune favoured, not unknown to fame. My household gods, companions of my woes, With pious care I rescued from our foes. To fruitful Italy my course was bent; And from the king of heaven is my descent. With twice ten sail I crossed the Phrygian sea; Fate and my mother goddess led my way. Scarce seven, the thin remainders of my fleet, From storms preserved, within your harbour meet. Myself distressed, an exile, and unknown, } Debarred from Europe, and from Asia thrown, } In Libyan deserts wander thus alone." } His tender parent could no longer bear, But, interposing, sought to sooth his care. "Whoe'er you are--not unbeloved by heaven, Since on our friendly shore your ships are driven-- Have courage: to the gods permit the rest, And to the queen expose your just request. Now take this earnest of success, for more: Your scattered fleet is joined upon the shore; The winds are changed, your friends from danger free; Or I renounce my skill in augury. Twelve swans behold in beauteous order move, And stoop with closing pinions from above; Whom late the bird of Jove had driven along, And through the clouds pursued the scattering throng: Now, all united in a goodly team, They skim the ground, and seek the quiet stream. As they, with joy returning, clap their wings, And ride the circuit of the skies in rings; Not otherwise your ships, and every friend, Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend. No more advice is needful; but pursue