_Sed mihi vel tellus, optem, prius ima dehiscat, &c. Ante, pudor, quam te violem, aut tua jura resolvam. Ille meos, primus qui me sibi junxit, amores Abstulit: ille habeat secum, servetque sepulcro._ FOOTNOTES: [103] Read, ----_dira detestatio Nulla expiatur victima._ Epod. v. 89. ÆNEÏS, BOOK V. ARGUMENT. _Æneas, setting sail from Afric, is driven by a storm on the coast of Sicily, where he is hospitably received by his friend Acestes, king of part of the island, and born of Trojan parentage. He applies himself to celebrate the memory of his father with divine honours, and accordingly institutes funeral games, and appoints prizes for those who should conquer in them. While the ceremonies were performing, Juno sends Iris to persuade the Trojan women to burn the ships, who, upon her instigation, set fire to them; which burned four, and would have consumed the rest, had not Jupiter, by a miraculous shower, extinguished it. Upon this, Æneas, by the advice of one of his generals, and a vision of his father, builds a city for the women, old men, and others, who were either unfit for war, or weary of the voyage, and sails for Italy. Venus procures of Neptune a safe voyage for him and all his men, excepting only his pilot Palinurus, who was unfortunately lost._[104] Meantime the Trojan cuts his watery way, Fixed on his voyage, through the curling sea; Then, casting back his eyes, with dire amaze, Sees on the Punic shore the mounting blaze. The cause unknown; yet his presaging mind } The fate of Dido from the fire divined; } He knew the stormy souls of woman-kind, } What secret springs their eager passions move, How capable of death for injured love. Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw; Till neither fires nor shining shores they saw. Now seas and skies their prospect only bound-- An empty space above, a floating field around. But soon the heavens with shadows were o'erspread; A swelling cloud hung hovering o'er their head: Livid it looked--the threatening of a storm: Then night and horror ocean's face deform. The pilot, Palinurus, cried aloud,-- "What gusts of weather from that gathering cloud My thoughts presage! Ere yet the tempest roars, Stand to your tackle, mates, and stretch your oars; Contract your swelling sails, and luff to wind." The frighted crew perform the task assigned. Then, to his fearless chief,--"Not heaven, (said he) } Though Jove himself should promise Italy, } Can stem the torrent of this raging sea. } Mark, how the shifting winds from west arise, And what collected night involves the skies! Nor can our shaken vessels live at sea, } Much less against the tempest force their way. } 'Tis Fate diverts our course, and Fate we must obey. }