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These are the crimes, with which they load the name
Of Turnus, and on him alone exclaim.
Let him, who lords it o'er th' Aufonian land,
Engage the Trojan hero hand to hand :
His is the gain, our lot is but to serve :
'Tis juft, the sway he feeks, he should deserve.
This Drances aggravates; and adds, with spight,
His foe expects, and dares him to the fight.
Nor Turnus wants a party, to fupport
His cause and credit, in the Latian court.
His former acts fecure his present fame;
And the queen shades him with her mighty name.
While thus their factious minds with fury burn;
The legates from th' Ætolian prince return :
Sad news they bring, that, after all the coft,
And care employ'd, their embaffy is loft:
That Diomede refus'd his aid in war;
Unmov'd with prefents, and as deaf to prayer.
Some new alliance muft elsewhere be fought;
Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought.
Latinus, funk in forrow, finds too late
A foreign fon is pointed out by fate:
And till Æneas fhall Lavinia wed,
The wrath of heaven is hovering o`er his head.
The gods, he saw, efpous'd the juster side,
When late their titles in the field were try'd: 360
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Thus, full of anxious thought, he fummons all The Latian senate to the council-hall :
The princes come, commanded by their head,
And crowd the paths that to the palace lead.
Supreme in power, and reverenc'd for his years,
He takes the throne, and in the midst appears :
Majeftically fad, he fits in ftate,
And bids his envoys their fuccefs relate.
When Venulus began, the murmuring found ́Was hush'd, and facred filence reign'd around. We have, faid he, perform'd your high command : And pafs'd with peril a long tract of land: We reach'd the place defir'd, with wonder fill'd, The Grecian tents and rifing towers beheld. Great Diomede has compafs'd round with walls The city, which Argyripa he calls; From his own Argos nam'd: we touch'd, with joy, The royal hand that raz'd unhappy Troy. When introduc'd, our prefents first we bring, Then crave an instant audience from the king : His leave obtain'd, our native foil we name; And tell th' important caufe for which we came. Attentively he heard us, while we spoke; Then, with soft accents, and a pleasing look, Made this return: Aufonian race, of old Renown'd for peace, and for an age of gold, What madness has your alter'd minds poffefs'd, To change for war hereditary reft? Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the fword (A needlefs ill your ancestors abhor'd). We (for myself I fpeak, and all the name Of Grecians, who to Troy's deftruction came)
Omitting
405
Omitting those who were in battle flain,
Or borne by rolling Simois to the main:
Not one but fuffer'd, and too dearly bought
The prize of honour which in arms he fought,
Some doom'd to death, and fome in exile driven,
Out-cafts, abandon'd by the care of heaven:
So worn, fo wretched, fo defpis'd a crew,
As ev'n old Priam might with pity view.
Witness the veffels by Minerva tofs'd
In ftorms, the vengeful Capharean coast;
Th' Eubean rocks; the prince, whofe brother led
Our armies to revenge his injur'd bed,
In Egypt loft; Ulyffes, with his men,
Have feen Charybdis, and the Cyclops den:
Why fhould I name Idomeneus, in vain,
Reftor'd to fceptres, and expell'd again?
Or young Achilles, by his rival slain ?
Ev'n he, the king of men, the foremost name
Of all the Greeks, and most renown'd by fame,
The proud revenger of another's wife,
Yet by his own adulterefs loft his life:
Fell at his threshold, and the spoils of Troy
The foul polluters of his bed enjoy.
The Gods have envy'd me the sweets of life,
My much-lov'd country, and my more-lov'd wife :
Banish'd from both, I mourn; while in the sky,
Transform'd to birds, my loft companions fly :
Hovering about the coasts they make their moan;
And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own.
What fqualid spectres, in the dead of night,
Break my fhort fleep, and skim before
my fight!
I might have promis'd to myself those harms,
Mad as I was, when I with mortal arms
Prefum'd against immortal powers to move,
And violate with wounds the queen of love.
Such arms this hand shall never more employ;
No hate remains with me to ruin'd Troy.
I war not with its dust; nor am I glad
To think of past events, or good or bad.
Your prefents I return: whate'er you bring
To buy my friendship, send the Trojan king.
We met in fight, I know him to my cost;
With what a whirling force his lance he toss'd :
Heavens! what a fpring was in his arm, to throw!
How high he held his shield, and rofe at every blow!
Had Troy produc'd two more, his match in might,
They would have chang❜d the fortune of the fight: 440
Th' invafion of the Greeks had been return'd:
Our empire wafted, and our cities burn'd.
The long defence the Trojan people made,
The war protracted, and the fiege delay'd,
Were due to Hector's and this hero's hand;
Both brave alike, and equal in command:
Æneas not inferior in the field,
In pious reverence to the gods excell'd.
Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care
Th' impending dangers of a fatal war.
He said no more; but, with this cold excuse,
Refus'd th' alliance, and.advis'd a truce.
Thus Venulus concluded his report.
A jarring murmur fill'd the factious court:
As when a torrent rolls with rapid force,
And dashes o'er the stones that stop the course;
The flood, constrain'd within a fcanty space,
Roars horrible along th' uneafy race :
White foam in gathering eddies floats around:
The rocky hores rebellow to the sound.
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The murmur ceas'd: then from his lofty throne
The king invok'd the gods, and thus bēgun:
I wish, ye Latins, what we now debate
Had been refolv'd before it was too late:
Much better had it been for you and me,
Unforc'd by this our laft neceffity,
To have been earlier wife; than now to call
A council, when the foe furrounds the wall.
O citizens! we wage unequal war,
With men, not only heaven's peculiar care,
But heaven's own race: unconquer'd in the field,
Or, conquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield.
What hopes you had in Diomede, lay down:
Our hopes muft center on ourfelves alone.
Yet thofe how feeble, and, indeed, how vain,
You fee too well; nor need my words explain.
Vanquish'd without refource; laid flat by fate,
Factions within, a foe without the gate;
Not but I grant, that all perform'd their parts,
With manly force, and with undaunted hearts:
With our united ftrengh the war we wag'd;
With equal numbers, equal arms, engag'd:
VOL. VII.
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