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The Storyteller 

And 

Virgil's 

Anaead 

Michael P. Moore

Copyright Micheal P. Moore 

Osaka 1999 

1 

(moore131@post.com)

Book I 

As the hunched, white-haired storyteller 

slowly meandered his way up 

the grassy incline to where his 

audience was waiting, he looked up 

at the bright afternoon sun and, 

tugging fiercely at his long beard, 

swore silently to himself. Inside he 

was churning with anger because 

for weeks he had been looking 

forward to coming back to this village 

and telling the story of Odysseus and 

his adventures after the sacking of 

Troy. But now he had been 

unexpectedly forced to change his 

plans. The last time he had visited 

this village he had told the story of 

the Iliad; the battle for Troy up to 

the death of Prince Hector. When he

did the rounds of the countryside, he 

always liked to follow the Iliad with 

the Odyssey, a story he greatly 

enjoyed telling. But in his absence a 

rogue storyteller had been through the 

area, and because after the Iliad 

everyone was anxious to hear about 

what happened later, the thief had 

capitalised on the opportunity and 

told them of Odysseus' ten year 

struggle to return home. Now, the 

whole village wanted to hear more 

about the fall of Troy, but the only 

story he knew was one which came 

from a much later age. Having heard 

the Iliad and the Odyssey his listeners 

were going to have certain 

expectations and so if he tried to tell 

Virgil's Anaead in its traditional 

form, he didn't need to be an expert 

to know that his audience would not

like it. The main problem with the 

Anaead was that the Gods, although 

much the same, all had different 

names and if he tried to begin his 

story in the manner he was used to, 

few would understand what he was 

talking about. Added to this was the 

fact that everyone had become 

accustomed to the idea that the fall of 

Troy was a bronze age epic and they 

might become confused if, a mere 

year or so after its fall, warriors rode 

horses and had iron age weapons. 

The more he thought about the 

problems which faced him, the 

more the anger seethed within him 

and became difficult to contain. 

Everyone knew that, by unspoken 

agreement, this was his area when 

it came to telling the Iliad and the 

Odyssey and the fact that rogue

storytellers were travelling through 

the area and completely ignoring 

established traditions, was very 

worrying. Society seemed to be 

breaking down and so as soon as he 

got back to the city he would have 

take the matter up with the other 

travelling bards and see what could be 

done. But before he could do that 

he was going to have to try and adjust 

the Anaead to suit his audience and 

also try not to make a complete 

mess of it. 

But how was he going to do it? 

He had been so totally unprepared 

for this that he just had no idea. 

When he discovered that in his 

absence someone had related the 

Odyssey, he had tried to persuade 

the village elders to let him tell a 

different story. But everyone wanted

to hear more about the fall of Troy 

and so they had insisted. In 

consequence, despite the fact that 

he was completely unprepared, he was 

going to have to tell Virgil's story 

as best he could. When he hadn't 

been allowed to tell a different story 

he had, for a moment, toyed with 

the idea of cancelling his agreement 

to tell a story altogether, but the 

villagers had been looking forward to 

his return and if he left without 

fulfilling his promise, they would be 

unwilling to welcome him back. So, 

passing dejectedly through the 

family groups which sat on the green 

grass which had been warmed by 

the afternoon sun, he sat himself down 

on the gnarled tree stump which, 

in this village, was every storytellers' 

seat. Then, after taking a drink from

his wine skin, he wiped his lips with 

the back of his hand and thought of 

how best to begin his story. Time was 

short and so gathering the main 

threads of the opening chapters and 

thinking of what had to be changed, 

he looked down at the ground and 

held his silence until a hush fell over 

his expectant audience. But instead 

of starting immediately he waited for 

a short while longer before lifting his 

eyes to the heavens and beginning. 

---- 

Sing Goddess! Sing and tell us about 

the that great man who fled from 

burning Troy and eventually won his 

way to Italy, even though he was 

chased by the anger of the Hera, 

Queen of Heaven and enemy of Troy,

and so was forced to endure countless 

calamities and hardships. Tell us also 

of how, once he arrived on the banks 

of the Tiber, he was plagued by wars 

as he struggled to build a city and 

establish a home for his gods and his 

people. Destiny had decided that this 

man would be the founder of Alba's 

house and father of the Latin people 

and that from him and his people 

would spring the great city and 

nation of Rome. But first he had to 

overcome the enmity of those gods 

who were determined to destroy him. 

Tell us also about the Queen 

of Heaven and why she persecuted 

such a good man for so long, because 

it is truly hard for anyone to believe 

that the heavenly ones could hate 

so fiercely and for so long. 

But begin with that time long

ago when in Italy, before Anaeas 

arrived, there was a town which 

stood on the estuaries of the Tiber 

and its people were emigrants from 

Tyre in Carthage. But although far 

removed from the centre of 

civilisation, it was rich and also 

mighty because war and strife were a 

part of its everyday life. The spot on 

which the city stood was so beautiful 

that it has often been said that Hera, 

consort of Zeus and Queen of 

Heaven, loved that place more than in 

any other in the world. But once 

Anaeas and his people arrived it 

gradually developed into the centre 

of a great nation and this was brought 

about by the Fates because they 

wanted to ensure that the blood of 

Troy would once again rise up into a 

great nation and be glorious in war.

But the Queen of Heaven, daughter of 

Kronos, did not want the blood of 

Troy to rise from the ashes because 

she remembered with pleasure that 

old war in which she had helped her 

beloved Achaians destroy the hated 

city of Troy. Nor had she forgotten 

the causes of that feud and the bitter 

pangs of pain she had suffered but 

not yet vanquished from her heart. 

Stored in the depths of her being 

were the memories of Prince Paris' 

judgment and how he had slighted 

her beauty in favour of Aphrodite's. 

When she thought of this it added fire 

to her hatred and so, despite the fact 

that Troy had fallen and almost all the 

Trojans had been killed or enslaved, 

those Trojans who had survived their 

city's destruction were tossed by her 

from sea to sea and kept away from

Latium. She wished the seed of Troy 

to be wiped from the face of the earth 

and so for many a long year these 

homeless survivors found themselves 

compelled to wander the seas of the 

earth. 

But as they wandered the seas 

and visited many countries, they 

came once to the island of Sicily. 

Here they only stayed long enough 

to replenish their stores and as they 

were departing that beautiful island 

and were happily spreading their sails 

so the wind could drive them on 

through the briny spray, Hera, sitting 

in the palace of the gods on Olympus 

and the everlasting wound still 

rankling in her breast, communed 

with herself. 'Am I to give up what 

I have started because I do not know 

what to do and am forbidden by the

Fates to interfere and stop the Anaeas 

from reaching Italy? What! Was not 

Pallas Athene strong enough to 

completely destroy an Achaian fleet 

and drown the crews in the sea for the 

offence of a single man: Aias, son 

of Oileus? Aye, with her own hand 

she launched winged fire from the 

clouds and scattered his ships and 

then sent a ferocious wind which 

churned up the sea and capsized them 

all. But if she could do this why is it 

that I, who walk the sky as its queen 

and am both the sister and consort of 

Zeus, am prevented from doing as 

I please? I have battled with the 

Trojans for many years but now it 

sometimes seems there is not a single 

person to pray to my deity or lay a 

suppliant's gift on my altar?' 

With such thoughts running

through her mind the goddess went to 

the birthplace of the storm cloud and 

the fierce southern blasts. There in 

a vast cavern King Aeolus was 

struggling with the howling winds 

and tempests and holding them in 

check. But they, in their passion, 

raved at the bolted doors and 

struggled to escape. Nevertheless, 

King Aeolus continued trying to 

soothe their wild moods and allay 

their rage because he knew that if he 

were to fail in this task of his, the 

sea, the land and even heaven itself 

would all be forced along by the blast 

and swept far out into the darkness 

of the night. For a long time Zeus, the 

Father of Men and Gods, had been 

afraid of what would happen if these 

winds escaped and roamed the world 

at will and so he had imprisoned

them in a cavern which was both 

dark and deep and over this cavern 

he had placed a great mountain. He 

had also given the angry winds a 

king who, by the terms of his 

contract, knew how to tighten or 

slacken their reins and when to hold 

them in or let them rage. It was to 

him therefore that Hera made her 

request: 

'King Aeolus,' she said in her 

sweetest voice, 'it is to you that the 

Father of Men and Gods has given the 

power to calm the winds or rouse 

them to anger. But there is a race 

which has offended me deeply and 

their ships are now sailing the 

Tyrrhene Sea as they make for Italy. 

Will you not unleash your winds for 

a while and let them rage so they can 

overwhelm and sink the ships or

else scatter them to the four corners 

of the sea and strew the waters with 

the corpses of their crews?' She 

paused for a moment and then added, 

'I have fourteen nymphs, all of whom 

are of surpassing beauty and Deiopea, 

who is the fairest of them all, I will, 

if you do as I wish, give to you in 

wedlock so she can serve your 

desires and make you the father of 

many godly children.' 

'It is for you, great Queen,' 

replied King Aeolus after some 

thought, 'to decide on what needs to 

be done and for me to do your 

bidding. Your husband and brother 

made me lord of the storms and so 

you make my poor realm rich by your 

presence. Also, when I attend a 

banquet on Olympus you never fail to 

receive me warmly and ensure I have

a comfortable couch.' 

As he said this Aeolus used his 

great spear to unbolt doors of the great 

cavern and this allowed the winds to 

burst out and sweep over the earth in 

the form of a hurricane. One and all, 

the winds; east, south and south west 

fell on the sea and raised the waves 

up into great billows which they 

then sent racing towards the shore. 

But when the tempest reached the 

ships the dark clouds instantly 

snatched daylight from the eyes of 

the crews and engulfed them in a 

deep, black and heavy night with 

roaring thunder and bright flashes of 

lightning. As the ships were engulfed 

by the storm, the crews screamed out 

in terror and Anaeas groaned aloud 

in his despair. Stretching his clasped 

hands up to the sky he cried. 'Once

more I am faced by death! But why 

didn't it find me beneath the walls of 

Troy? Why did Diomedes, that 

great son of Tydeus, not lay me low 

when he took my wonderful horses? 

Why did Poseidon save me from the 

spear of Achilles? Why did I live 

when Sarpedon fell to the spear of 

Patroklos and Prince Hector to 

Achilles? Was it for this that I was 

allowed to remain among the living 

while the Simois was seizing the 

arms, shields and bodies of so many 

brave men and sweeping them out to 

sea?' 

As he flung these words at the 

sky, a blast roaring in from the north 

struck his sail full in the front and 

submerged his ship in the water. The 

oars in the men's hands shattered and 

the prow, turning to starboard,

presented the ship's sides to the 

oncoming waves which crashed down 

on it in mountains of water. Three 

ships were caught by this surge and 

flung onto hidden rocks and, as the 

waves tumbled down on top of them, 

the crew called out to the gods. 

Their frenzied pleas were heard by 

Hermes, the Bringer of Luck, so 

before the pointed rocks had a chance 

to smash holes in the bottoms of the 

ships, another great wave 

immediately rose up and, lifting the 

three ships, flung them high up onto 

the sandy beach. However, the ship 

in which the Lykians were sailing 

was struck by a mighty wave from the 

stern and the helmsman was washed 

from his post and, with no one to 

guide it, the ship began to spin in a 

circle. Three times she went round-

about while staying in the same spot 

and a goodly number of the crew were 

flung into the water along with 

much of the treasure which had been 

salvaged from the ruins of Troy. The 

ships of Ilionesus, Achates, Abas, and 

Aletes were also all severely damaged 

and large amounts of water flooded 

into their bellies. 

However, when the noise of the 

roaring storm reached the ears of 

Poseidon, he was grievously troubled. 

Raising his tranquil brow he cast a 

glance over the sea and saw the fleet 

of Anaeas being tossed hither and 

thither by the howling winds and 

billowing waves. But as he watched 

the waters crash onto their ships he 

knew that this was the work of his 

sister and her all-consuming hatred. 

Consequently, he immediately called

the winds before him and spoke to 

them coldly. 'Are you,' he asked, 'so 

completely ruled by your desires? 

How dare you come out to darken 

the skies and toss the seas without my 

permission. It is I who chooses when 

and where you will do your work and 

in time to come I shall make you pay 

for this grievous crime. But now you 

are to make good speed to your 

home and give your king this 

message from me. Tell him that the 

empire of the sea was assigned to 

me and not to him. His sway is 

only over the enormous cave in 

which you winds are imprisoned and 

he has no power in any other place.' 

When he finished speaking the 

winds ashamedly hastened back to 

their cave and the heaving billows 

slowly subsided, the thunder ceased,

the clouds disappeared and the sun 

returned in triumph. On the beach 

the captains Cymothoe and Triton 

combined their efforts to help 

relaunch the ships which had been 

stranded and also guide them through 

the dangerous rocks. Poseidon himself 

decided to help with this task and so 

before long all the ships were once 

more gliding smoothly across the 

water. 

However, the sailors had been 

exhausted by their struggles against 

the storm and now that all was calm 

they began labouring to reach the 

nearest shore which, unbeknownst to 

them, was the coast of Libya. There 

they found a cove where the water 

retired deep into the land and the 

narrow mouth of the inlet formed a 

barrier to the wind and waves of the

sea. On each side of the cove's 

mouth stood two great crags rising up 

into the sky and both were covered 

with dense, black forests. Also 

unknown to them was the fact that 

this was a home of many nymphs and 

so there were a multitude of fresh 

water springs and, as the water within 

the cove was so calm, they had no 

need for a cable or anchor to tether 

the ships. And so it was in this cove, 

with only seven ships remaining 

from his whole fleet, that Anaeas 

ordered his Trojans to disembark and 

take possession of the shore. 

Once on the beach the 

exhausted men threw themselves 

down on the ground and it was only 

the commander Achates who had the 

energy and foresight to gather up 

some dry leaves and start a fire. For

a long while the exhausted Trojans 

just lay on the beach but when they 

had recovered a little of their strength 

they gathered round the fire which 

had begun to blaze brightly and was 

able to dry out their sodden tunics. 

After that they brought their soaked 

corn from the ships and after rescuing 

what they could of it, they began 

crushing it with a millstone. 

As the men were busy crushing 

the corn Anaeas and Achates 

clambered up on a rock from which 

they could get a full view of the sea 

in the hope of spotting something of 

their other ships. But as they gazed 

out across the pearl blue water 

which reflected the bright afternoon 

sunlight, they could see no sign of any 

ship. Anaeas, however, did notice a 

herd of deer grazing along the shore

and immediately took possession of 

the bow and quiver full of arrows 

Achates always carried. The two 

men then began hunting these 

animals down and quickly brought 

seven huge bodies to the ground; one 

for each of the ships which had made 

the safety of the cove. These, when 

the men were fully recovered, 

Anaeas arranged to have brought back 

to the ships where they were shared 

out in a way which made sure 

everyone had their fair share of 

meat. Wine was next. When they had 

visited the Trinacrian shore Achates 

had stowed many casks aboard his 

ship and so, in an effort to comfort 

their sorrowing hearts, some of these 

he now brought out and served to the 

men with his own hand. 

'Comrades,' said Anaeas as

Achates was handing out the red 

wine, 'for comrades we are. Despite 

our predicament we are no strangers 

to hardships and our hearts have felt 

deeper wounds. But heaven will 

find balm for our sorrows. Why! 

Have we not looked on Scylla in 

her madness and heard those 

screaming winds which thrill the 

pointed rocks as they await a hapless 

ship? It is time for us to look to the 

future and banish all fears from our 

hearts. Who knows, in time even the 

storm we have just survived will be 

remembered with both laughter and 

pleasure! However, even though we 

have been faced by many perils, we 

are still going to make our way to 

Italy where the Fates have promised 

me the opportunity to rebuild the 

empire of Troy. Bear up then I say and

look forward to brighter days.' 

Such were the words he spoke 

and so although the men were still 

overwhelmed by their exhaustion 

and also troubled by thoughts of 

what lay ahead, they saw there was 

hope for the future and so put away 

their grief and prepared to deal with 

the forthcoming meal. Some flayed 

the animals, cut the flesh into pieces 

and impaled it on spits while others 

gathered more wood for the fires. 

When they had feasted on the 

meat and drunk their fill of wine they 

all began to feel much better and 

started to discuss their missing 

comrades. But alas, they were torn 

between hope and fear for they did 

not know whether to think of them as 

alive or dead. Anaeas was more 

worried than the rest and as he

thought of his missing comrades; 

Orontes, Amycus, Lycus, Gyas and 

the gallant Cloanthus, his spirit was 

plunged into the depths of despair. 

But now Father Zeus, who was 

sitting in the heights of heaven, 

looked down on the waves of the sea, 

the earth and the tribes of men and, 

when he fixed his gaze on Libya's 

realm, he thought of what sad 

Aphrodite had said: 'Oh thou, who 

by your everlasting laws swayest the 

lives of men and gods and awes them 

with your lightning bolts, what can 

my poor Anaeas have done to merit 

your wrath? Why did you let the 

Achaians destroy the sacred city of 

Troy so completely? What did the 

Trojans do to offend you so deeply? 

Yet these men, after the many deaths 

they have suffered already, still find

the whole world turned against them 

as they struggle to reach the mouth of 

the Tiber. It was your promise that 

as the years roll on, they will the 

forebears of many warrior kings who 

will have absolute sway over both 

land and sea. But perhaps, Father of 

mine, you have changed your mind! 

When Troy's star was setting in 

grievous ruin and I was busy trying to 

balance destiny against destiny, your 

promise was my constant solace. 

But now here is the same evil fortune 

pursuing the brave men she has so 

oft discomfited already. Indeed the 

mighty Antenor found a way to 

escape through the midst of the 

Achaians and make his way to the 

realm of Liburnians. There he built 

the city of Patavium for his Trojans 

to dwell in and, by so doing, gave

them a place and a name among 

nations. But whereas he now lives 

lapped by the calm of peace, the 

ships of my son are either lost or 

ruined and all this to satisfy the malice 

of one cruel heart. Is this the reward 

for piety? Is this how you mean to 

restore a king to his throne?' 

The Father of Men and Gods, 

who had a face which could calm the 

fitful moods of the sky, recalled 

smiling on his daughter when she 

had finished and, after touching her 

lips with a kiss, had said: 'You have 

no cause for alarm, Lady of Cythera, 

for I have not changed my mind about 

the destiny of your son and his people 

and, with your own eyes, you will see 

them build their promised city. 

However, your son's troubles are far 

from over because before he can set

up a government and a city he must 

first wage a mighty war in Italy and 

crush the haughty tribes who live 

there. But that won't begin to happen 

until three years after he has 

defeated the Rutulians. But I can 

promise you that your grandson 

Ascanius shall be sovereign for thirty 

years and he will build the city of 

Alba the Long. There for a full three 

hundred years the crown shall be 

worn by Anaeas' line until a royal 

priestess, who has been known by the 

War God Ares, who, I will remind 

you, recently changed his name to 

Mars, will be the mother of twin 

sons. Of these one will proudly wear 

the tawny hide of the wolf which 

nursed him and his name will be 

Romulus. He will take up the sceptre 

and build a new city. But it will be a

city of war and so will be called a city 

of Mars. He will give both to the city 

and its people his own name of 

Roman and to them I assign no time 

limit and so there will be no date 

for it to end. Consequently, if they 

are wise, they will have dominion 

over the world for time without end. 

But my wife, who still doesn't want 

the Trojans to even survive and does 

everything she can to harm them, will 

one day change her mind and will then 

vie with me in watching over the 

Romans and helping them become 

lords of the earth. For it is willed that 

as the years pass, the time will come 

when Phthia, Mycenae and all of 

Argos will become subject to 

Roman, and therefore Trojan rule. 

Then shall be born a child from an 

illustrious line of Troy and his name

shall be Julius Caesar and he will 

extend the Roman empire to the 

ocean and his glory to the stars. By 

blood he will be an heir to the great 

Ascanius, son of Anaeas and nephew 

of Prince Hector and, because of 

the greatness of his achievements, 

although he is destined to be 

treacherously murdered by one of his 

closest friends, men will pray and 

make their vows to him as they will 

soon do to Anaeas because, in his day, 

internal wars will cease and life for 

those under Roman rule will grow 

mild. The Romans will give law to 

the world and, grim and iron bound 

though these laws may be, they will 

close the gates of internal strife and 

make Discord a prisoner. Though 

he will at times still roar mightily 

and yearn to be free.'

After thinking for a while of 

what he had said to his daughter, 

Zeus thought it might be best if he 

sent Mercury, a brother of Iris of 

the Whirlwind Feet, down from 

heaven with message to tell the 

people of Carthage the New to open 

themselves up and welcome the 

Trojans lest Queen Dido, in her 

ignorance of what Fate was planning, 

should drive them from her borders. 

As a result Mercury was soon flying 

down through the vast darkening sky 

and, by using his wings for oars, he 

quickly reached the shores of Libya. 

But such was his influence that even 

as he arrived the queen was admitting 

into her bosom thoughts of peace and 

kindness towards all strangers. 

As night was falling the Trojans 

in the cove posted a guard and laid

themselves down to sleep. But 

Anaeas could not rest as he kept 

worrying about his missing 

comrades. In consequence, he had 

a restless night and so, as soon as the 

gracious Dawn began lighting up the 

eastern sky with her rosy fingers, he 

was eager to go out and explore this 

new region and find out where he 

was. He also wanted to know what 

kind of people lived on these shores 

because there where many places 

where people did not welcome 

strangers and were often quick to try 

and either kill them or chase them 

away. So, after ordering his men to 

conceal the ships under branches cut 

from trees in the forest and selecting 

only Achates as a companion, he 

picked up two spears with gleaming 

heads of bronze and walked into the

forest. But as the two men made their 

way towards the centre of the forest 

their path was crossed by Aphrodite, 

Anaeas' mother, who had disguised 

herself as a maiden and wore a 

maiden's armour. In true huntress 

fashion a curved bow was slung over 

her shoulder and her flowing scarf 

was gathered round her head in a knot. 

'Hello there!' She cried out when 

she saw them approaching. 'Have you 

chanced to see one of my sisters 

wandering in these parts? If you have 

please tell me where I can find her. 

She has a bow and quiver full of 

arrows and a spotted lynx hide hangs 

from her shoulders. You may have 

seen her chasing a boar with her 

hounds in full cry.' 

Thus Aphrodite spoke and her 

son, who did not recognise his

mother, replied: 'We have not seen 

or heard anyone I'm afraid. But what 

shall I call you? You have a face 

which is surely not of this earth and 

nor is the tone of your voice human. 

I believe you are a goddess. 

Artemis, Apollo's sister most likely 

or perhaps you are a nymph? Be 

gracious whoever you are and relieve 

our hardship by telling us where we 

are and into what country we have 

been thrown. We have been driven 

here by angry winds and mighty 

waves and are complete strangers to 

the people of this place. Tell us 

where we are and many a beautiful 

lamb will be sacrificed to you by 

these hands of mine. 

'Nay,' said Aphrodite. 'I can lay 

claim to no such honours. Tyrian 

maidens like me are wont to carry the

ow and quiver and also to tie the 

purple buckskin high on the waist. 

You are in the Punic realm, the nation 

of Tyrian and a town of Agenor's. 

On our frontiers are the Libyans and 

they are always dangerous in war or 

any dispute. Our queen is Dido who 

fled here from her home in Tyre to 

escape her brother. Lengthy is the tale 

of her woe and lengthy the windings 

of its course, so I will pass rapidly 

from point to point. Her husband was 

Sychaeus, the wealthiest of the 

Phoenician landowners and he was 

loved by his poor wife with a 

passion. Her father had given her to 

him and linked them in bonds of 

matrimony. But the crown of Tyre 

was on the head of her brother, 

Pygmalion, who was a monstrous and 

evil man. One day there was a dispute

etween Dido's husband and 

Pygmalion and so, at the altar in the 

palace, with the love of gold blinding 

his eyes, Pygmalion surprised 

Sychaeus with his stealthy bronze 

and, without a single thought for his 

sister's feelings, laid him low. He 

then hid the body and treated his 

sister cruelly by telling her that 

Sychaeus had gone away 

unexpectedly and then he even 

encouraged her to hope he would 

soon return. But one night in her 

sleep there came to her a vision of her 

dead husband. His face was a strange 

unearthly pallor and, lifting his 

hands to his neck, he slowly opened 

his tunic to expose the cruel wound 

in his chest. Beckoning with a finger 

which dripped with blood, he led her 

first to the altar where he had been

murdered and then to the place where 

his decomposing body had been 

hidden. After this, with winged words 

which she could understand but not 

hear, he urged her to fly for her life 

and quit her home forever. To help her 

he showed her a large treasure of 

silver and gold which he had hidden 

away long ago because he had never 

trusted Pygmalion and expected that 

one day he would need it. Dido's 

soul was stirred and so she quickly 

began to make ready for her flight. 

She gathered together many of her 

friends and all those who hated her 

tyrant brother or were afraid of him. 

One evening they all gathered in the 

harbour set sail as soon as the gold 

and silver had been loaded onto the 

ships. The fact that this enterprise was 

headed by a woman made no

difference to the people who went 

with her and so when they came to the 

spot where you will soon see lofty 

walls rising up to the sky, they 

immediately did her bidding and set 

about building the citadel of 

Carthage the New. They began by 

buying some land which, from the 

transaction, got the name of Byrsa.' 

Aphrodite paused for a moment 

to look at her son and then burst out. 

'But enough of this sorry tale! What 

is more important is: who are you? 

Where do you hail from and whither 

are you going?' 

Anaeas, with a heavy sigh and a 

voice which came from the bottom 

of an almost broken heart began his 

story. 'Fair goddess!' he said. 'If I were 

to begin at the beginning and if you 

had the time to listen to the chronicle

of our sufferings, before even half 

my story was told, Eve would have 

closed the Olympian gates and laid 

the day to sleep. We are bound from 

ancient Troy, if you have ever heard 

of our city, and have wandered over 

many seas already. But now we have 

been driven onto your coast by 

howling winds and raging seas. I am 

Anaeas and I am bringing with me in 

my fleet those gods of Troy which 

we rescued from the Achaian foe. I 

am in quest of Italy for I hope that 

there I will be able to establish an 

ancestral home that has its pedigree 

drawn from Zeus himself. I set out 

on my journey with twice ten ships 

and was guided by a chart of oracles 

and also by my mother who is a 

goddess. But alas, scarce seven ships 

remain to me now as the rest have

een scattered by the storms and may 

even have been sunk. So here am I, 

a stranger, or better still a beggar, 

who, driven from both Europe and 

Asia alike, now wanders on the 

shores of your country.' 

Aphrodite could bear her son's 

story no longer and so interrupted 

him. 'Whoever you are,' she said, 'it is 

not, I believe, under the frown of a 

heavenly brow that you draw the 

breath of life and have arrived on our 

shores. But you must now make your 

way to the queen's palace for I am 

sure your comrades are safe. Unless 

I am mistaken and am not the augur 

I think I am, your fleet has arrived 

safely in our harbour. Look at those 

twelve swans flying overhead in 

beautiful column. They are birds of

Zeus but whereas they were 

previously flying around in confusion, 

you can now see that their line is 

properly formed and while some are 

getting ready to alight on the ground, 

others are circling and uttering cries 

of triumph. This means your gallant 

crews are either safely in our port or 

just entering it with their sails fully 

spread. But you must now go on and 

to where this path leads, so also must 

you direct your steps.' 

Having said this she turned to 

leave but in doing so allowed Anaeas 

to see the shape and beauty of her 

neck and also smell the heavenly 

fragrance of her ambrosial hair. 

Also, although her robe fell elegantly 

down to her ankles, the gracefulness 

of her walk revealed her true identity 

and so, as soon as he recognised his

mother, Anaeas ran after her. 

'How can you be as cruel as all 

the rest,' he called out, 'and mock your 

own son by pretending to be another? 

Why do you not let me grasp your 

hand in mine and hear words which 

come from your heart?' 

Such were the words he called 

out but his mother had vanished and 

so, after pausing for a while to steady 

his beating heart and gather his 

thoughts, he eventually decided to do 

as his mother had told him and make 

his way to the town. But as he and 

Achates proceeded on their way, 

Aphrodite wrapped them in a mist so 

no one would see them, ask the 

reason for their coming or interfere 

in any way with their journey. 

Nevertheless, she herself went off to 

Paphos which was a place she loved

to visit because there she had a temple 

with a hundred altars and at every 

one the people who lived in the area 

ensured that incense was always 

burning and the flowers were always 

fresh. Anaeas and Achates, following 

her instructions, went on along the 

path and climbed the hill which 

overlooked the city. From there 

they were able to marvel at the mass 

of buildings. A short while ago the 

city had been just a small village but 

now it had great gates, the ways had 

been paved and the people were 

moving around and creating a great 

din as they went about their daily 

tasks. Everywhere people where 

intent on building. Some were 

building the city walls even higher, 

some were building houses, others

were enclosing the city in a great 

protective moat and, while all this 

was going on, the learned ones were 

sitting in the market square and 

making laws for the people to live 

by. Outside the city walls and beyond 

the moat a mass of men were laying 

the foundations for a theatre and 

hewing rock into enormous columns 

and great ornaments. The whole 

town was like a common-wealth of 

bees at work in the flowery meadows 

during late spring or early summer 

and it was easy to see that the whole 

city was at a stage where hope is 

young and everyone is looking 

forward to the easing of their burdens 

and a better life. 

'Oh happy are they,' cried Anaeas 

as he looked towards the town, 

'whose city is rising.'

Then, still shrouded by the mist 

which hid them from view, the two 

men made their way into the city and 

began walking among the citizens. 

In the heart of the city stood a 

grove with plenty of shade which had 

been built to honour the Queen of 

Heaven, for she had told them that 

their nation would be rich for 

centuries to come and renowned in 

war. So it was here that Dido, 

Sidon's daughter, was building a vast 

temple to Hera. The great doors 

were made of brass and so also were 

the hinges which held them in place. 

But when Anaeas entered he saw 

objects which caused him to start 

hoping that many of his troubles were 

behind him for, as he walked around 

the temple, his eye ranged over every 

part of the roof and he couldn't help

ut marvel at the busy artists as they 

vied with each other to produce the 

greatest masterpiece. He saw scene 

after scene of the battles of Troy and 

a war which all the world already 

knew about. There were pictures of 

King Priam, Agamenmon, Menelaos 

and Achilles. But here he stopped 

short and burst into tears. 'What 

place on earth is there left Achates,' 

he cried, 'which has not had its fill 

of our sad story? See! There is 

King Priam and all the others who 

fought around the walls of sacred 

Troy.' 

As he spoke copious tears 

began running down his cheeks 

because looking at the pictures, he 

could see in one the Pergamos with 

the Achaians in flight as they were 

chased by Trojans. But in another the

Trojans were in flight with the 

dreaded Achilles in hot pursuit. There 

was a picture of Rhesos' tent and the 

king being slaughtered in his sleep 

while Diomedes bathed himself in 

blood. Next to it was a picture in 

which Diomedes and Odysseus were 

bringing Rhesos' beautiful steeds 

back to the ships before they had even 

had the time to taste the pastures of 

Troy or drink from the Skamandros. 

There, in another picture, was 

Troilos, the happy charioteer who, 

after being confronted by Achilles in 

unequal combat was being dragged 

away by his horses while he himself 

hung half out of the car with his 

lifeless head bouncing along on the 

ground behind. Another picture 

showed the temple of Pallas Athene 

where the Trojan ladies in their

flowing gowns were carrying the 

sacred robe to her statute while 

praying fervently for deliverance and 

beating their breasts with their 

clenched hands. But the goddess was 

keeping her head turned away and 

her stony eyes riveted on the ground. 

In another picture Achilles was 

dragging Prince Hector's body round 

the walls of Troy and in yet another 

he was selling that body for gold. A 

heavy groan escaped his lips when he 

saw the riches Achilles had received 

for the body of his friend Hector. He 

also recognised a picture of himself 

in the forefront of the battle with 

squadrons of men from the East and 

also the swarthy Memnon. In another 

picture, leading her Amazons with 

their moonlike shields was 

Penthesilea the warrior queen who

had been killed by Achilles in all her 

martial frenzy. Her naked breasts 

were held up by a girdle of gold as 

she stood in her chariot and nerved 

herself to the shock of combat; a battle 

of maidens versus men. 

But while Anaeas was standing 

overawed and bewildered by these 

wondrous pictures, Queen Dido 

arrived at the temple. She was a 

beautiful woman and a vast number of 

youths thronged around her; like 

Diana when she danced on the banks 

of the Eurotas and was surrounded by 

a thousand mountain nymphs while 

she, with her bow in her hand and 

quiver of arrows on her back, towered 

above them all. In such a manner did 

the queen make her way through her 

people and arrive at the doors of the 

temple. Then taking a seat altar she

egan settling arguments and passing 

out judgments on her people and, by 

so doing, equalised the burden of 

their tasks. But then through the 

throng Anaeas saw Sergestus, brave 

Cloanthus and some other Trojans 

who had been in the ships he thought 

lost in the storm. Both he and 

Achates were astounded and eager to 

run up to their friends and hug them 

in delight. But they were also 

confused by their sudden appearance 

and so, after a short consultation with 

each other, they decided to stay 

hidden until they found out what had 

happened to their friends and how 

they had managed to arrive on the 

Libyan coast. For the men were 

under a heavy guard and, as they 

made their way to the temple, they 

were suppliant and, in loud voices,

were begging to be treated kindly. 

After they had all entered the 

temple and bowed humbly before 

the queen, she graciously gave them 

leave to speak. 

'Gracious queen,' Ilioneus began, 

'whom Zeus has ordained to find a 

new city and to restrain by force of 

law the pride of savage nations, we 

hapless Trojans, who have been 

driven by the winds over every sea, 

now make our prayer to you. We beg 

you to be kind to us and protect our 

ships from your soldiers. We have not 

come with the sword to cause havoc 

in your homes and snatch what booty 

we can. Such violence is not in our 

nature. There is a place which the 

Greeks call Hesperia. It is an old land 

which is both strong and fruitful. 

The Cenotrians were its settlers and

nowadays they say that the people 

call their land Italy, a name they have 

taken from one of their leaders. It is 

to there that we were travelling when 

a sudden tempest, unleashed by the 

Lord Aeolus, fell upon our ships. The 

howling winds and surging seas took 

control of our path and sent us flying 

hither and thither across the water and 

now we have drifted to your shores. 

But who are you people? How can 

you be so barbarous as to forbid us 

the hospitality of your shore? Despite 

the fact our ships were badly 

damaged, you drew your swords and 

would not let us set foot on your 

land.' 

Ilioneus paused here for a 

moment to gather his thoughts. 'I feel 

I should remind you,' he continued, 

'that people who take weapons to

visitors who come in peace must be 

careful of the gods who watch over 

the principles of right and wrong. 

Anaeas was our king and never was 

there a man more pious in spirit and 

fierce in war. But whether he is alive 

or not we do not know. If, however, 

the Fates are keeping him alive and 

he has not been laid in cruel death's 

shade, all our fears are over and you 

may have cause to regret your actions. 

You need have no fear of us for we 

are not intending to stay. The realm 

of Sicily is governed by Acestes who 

is a king of Trojan blood and he will 

supply us with our needs. All we ask 

is that you allow us to lay up our 

storm beaten ships and fashion 

timbers in your forest for masts and 

oars. After that we will search for our 

king and, when we find him, continue

on our way. But if he has been 

swallowed up by the deep sea then 

we will make for Sicily for there we 

know we are welcome and will have 

a new king in Acestes. 

Such was the speech of Ilioneus 

and, with a downcast look, the 

queen replied. 'Trojans, Dardanians 

and all you others, you can rest easy 

as there is nothing for you to fear. 

Unfortunately my kingdom is still in 

its infancy and, as we must protect 

our frontiers, this makes us extremely 

careful about all visitors. But who 

does not know of Anaeas and the city 

of Troy? Who will ever forget the 

deeds which were done by mighty 

men in that terrible war? We Punic 

folk are not as out of touch with the 

world as you seem to think. However, 

whether you decide to continue on

your way to Italy or make for Sicily 

and the kingdom of Acestes, you 

can rest assured that I will give you 

all the assistance you need. I will 

also give you whatever supplies you 

need for your journey.' The queen 

paused for a moment and looked at 

Ilioneus. 'Unless,' she continued, 

'you would prefer to settle in my 

kingdom here? Look at the city we are 

building. It grows larger and more 

prosperous by the day. You are 

welcome to lay up your ships and 

make your home here and, if you do 

decide to stay, Trojans and Tyrian 

shall be dealt with equally by me. 

Would to heaven that your king had 

also been driven here by the tempest. 

The great Anaeas himself! It is hard 

to believe that such a great man 

would visit my shores. But I will send

trusted servants up and down our 

coast with orders to search every 

beach and inlet in case he has been 

shipwrecked on our coast and is 

wandering somewhere in the forest.' 

Excited by her words the brave 

Achates and Anaeas were eager to 

break out of the mist which hid them 

from everyone's view and greet their 

friends. Achates turned to Anaeas and 

said: 'Son of Laughter-loving 

Aphrodite, what do you think? As 

you can see our fleet is safe and our 

friends have been restored to us. Only 

one ship is missing but we both saw 

it being swallowed up by the surging 

waves. Nevertheless, as your mother 

told us, all the rest are safe.' 

The words were hardly out of his 

mouth when the mist which hid them 

disappeared and exposed them to

view. Anaeas, with the face and 

image of a god, stood out like the 

sunshine and such was his beauty 

that it was like the loveliness an 

artist's touch can impart to a beautiful 

piece of ivory or when Parian marble 

is encased in fine gold. He 

immediately addressed the queen, 

but, such was the suddenness of both 

his appearance and his words, 

everyone was astonished. 

'Here I am' he said, 'the one you 

are seeking. I am Anaeas the 

Dardanian who was snatched by the 

gods from the jaws of the storm. Oh 

kind-hearted queen, who has found 

pity in her heart for those of us who 

have suffered such cruel agonies in 

Troy, agonies which make us, the 

poor remnants of Achaian fury, 

utterly destitute; we thank you from

the bottom of our hearts. But to show 

our gratitude is more than we can do 

and probably more than could be 

done by all the survivors of the 

Dardanian nation who are now 

scattered across the world. May the 

gods, if they care about the pious and 

if justice counts for aught anywhere 

on earth, give you the reward you 

merit! What age had the happiness 

to bring you forth? What godlike 

parents gave such nobleness to the 

world? You can be sure that while 

the rivers run into the sea and the 

stars draw life from the sky, your 

glory and your name shall endure, 

whatever the land in which we finally 

settle.' 

So saying he stretched out his 

hands to clasp his friends; the good 

Ilioneus, Serestus, Gyas, Cloanthus

and all the others. 

Queen Dido, Sidon's daughter, 

was astounded by the hero's sudden 

appearance and by his words. She also 

felt a great sorrow for the enormous 

suffering he had endured. 

'What chance is it, goddessborn,' 

she asked, 'that has chased you 

through such a wilderness of perils? 

What violence has thrown you on our 

savage coasts? Are you indeed the 

famed Anaeas whom Anchises the 

Dardanian and Aphrodite, the queen 

of light and love, conceived on the 

banks of the Simois? Aye, I 

remember Teucer coming to Sidon 

when he was driven from the borders 

of his fatherland and was hoping to 

gain a new kingdom with the help of 

Belus. Belus, my sire, was then 

laying waste the rich fields of Cyprus

and ruling the isle with a conqueror's 

sway. Ever since that time I knew 

about the fate of your Trojan city and 

also your name. Teucer always 

praised the Dardanians and claimed 

that he himself came of the ancient 

Dardanian stock. Come then, brave 

men, and make our dwelling your 

home. I too have had a fortune like 

yours which, after the buffeting of 

countless sufferings, has been 

pleased to give me rest in this land. 

I, who am no stranger to sorrow, will 

not refuse to succour the unhappy,' 

With these words she rose and 

led Anaeas and his men to her queenly 

palace. But before leaving the temple 

she ordered that an unblemished 

animal of great value should be 

sacrificed in thanksgiving to the gods. 

She also sent twenty bulls, a

hundred huge swine, a hundred fat 

lambs with their mothers and many 

casks of wine to the men who waited 

on the ships in the harbour. 

The palace itself was laid out 

with all the splendour of regal 

luxury and in the centre hall, when 

they arrived, the servants were 

preparing a huge banquet. The tables 

had been covered with beautifully 

embroidered cloths and on top of 

these were placed wine cups of silver 

and gold, many of which had a long 

history and had passed through the 

hands of many a Tyrian hero. 

Anaeas however, kept worrying 

about his comrades back at the cove 

and could not rest. Consequently, as 

soon as he was able to, he sent 

Achates to bring Ascanius to the city. 

He also listed some of the treasures

which had been rescued from burning 

Troy and told Achates to bring these 

to the palace as gifts for the queen. 

Among the gifts he selected were 

beautiful figurines of gold and 

adornments which had been given to 

Argive Helen by her mother, Leda, 

and which she, Helen, had worn 

when Paris carried her away from 

Mykene. There was also a golden 

sceptre, a string of pearls and a jewel 

encrusted tiara of gold which had 

once been worn by King Priam's most 

beautiful daughter; Kassandra. 

As Achates hurried to the cove 

to do Anaeas' bidding, Aphrodite, 

the lady Cythera, was thinking of 

ways in which she could get Cupid 

to influence Queen Dido to madness 

and turn the very marrow of her bones 

to fire. She was afraid that as the city

of Carthage and its temple were 

dedicated the Queen of Heaven, Hera 

might use the opportunity to destroy 

both Anaeas and his fleet. So with 

these words she addressed Cupid. 

'My son, who art my strength and 

my power and who even laughs at 

the thunderbolts of Father Zeus, I beg 

a favour. You have seen how your 

brother Anaeas has been tossed on 

the oceans by Hera's implacable 

wrath and so I need not tell you of the 

dangers which face him. He is now 

the guest of Queen Dido the 

Phoenician and she has treated him 

courteously. But I'm afraid of what 

may happen as a result of his resting 

in a city which honours the sister 

and consort of Zeus. She would never 

let an opportunity like this slip her 

by. Therefore I am planning to take

the initiative and surprise Dido with 

a stratagem which engulfs her in the 

fire of love. A mighty passion for 

Anaeas and his people will keep her 

under my control and no power of 

Hera's will be able to work a change 

in her. But you must listen to what I 

have planned. The young Ascanius 

is making ready to go to this 

Sidonian city with Achates and they 

will be bearers of presents which have 

survived the flames of Troy and 

storms of the sea. But Ascanius I will 

lull into deep sleep and hide in my 

hallowed dwelling on Cythera, or 

maybe Idalia, so that there is no 

chance of anyone discovering or 

marring my plot. Then you, for a 

single night and no more, must take 

on his form and put on the boy's most 

godlike look so that when Dido, at the

height of her joy and when the 

blessed wine is flowing freely, takes 

you into her lap, you must steal upon 

her with the poison of love and 

breath passion into her veins. The 

best time to do this will be when she 

caresses your head and plants her 

fondest kisses on your cheek.' 

Cupid complied with his mother's 

wishes at once and, after speeding 

down to the cove with the speed of a 

falling meteorite, he removed his 

wings and took on the form and gait 

of the young Ascanius. While he was 

doing this Aphrodite put the real 

Ascanius into a deep sleep and 

carried him off to Idalia's lofty groves 

where she laid him on a soft couch 

covered with fresh, sweet-smelling 

flowers. As a result, when Achates 

began gathering the presents together

he did not recognise the impostor and, 

as soon as he was ready, the two set 

off for the town. 

Arriving at the palace they found 

the queen occupying a central 

position and settled comfortably on 

a soft couch which was covered with 

a gorgeous tapestry. Anaeas was 

standing next to her and many of the 

surviving lords of Troy who had come 

up from the harbour had stretched 

themselves here and there on coverlets 

of purple. The servants were washing 

the hands of each lord in turn and, 

after presenting him with small towel 

to dry his hands, they placed a small 

basket filled with delicious, freshly 

baked bread in front of him. 

There were also fifty maidens 

whose duty it was to bring the food 

into the hall and light up the fires.

In the hall itself there were a 

hundred more and an equal number of 

young men whose job it was to load 

the tables with dishes, set out the cups 

and serve the food. 

Many of the city's leading 

citizens had also been invited to the 

feast and, as they arrived, they 

scattered themselves throughout the 

hall on embroidered couches. 

When the gifts Achates and 

Ascanius had brought were 

unwrapped, all marvelled at their 

beauty. They also marvelled at the 

glowing, godlike beauty of Ascanius, 

who was in fact Cupid. Chief of all 

the admirers was the queen, that 

unhappy victim of coming ruin. She 

could not satisfy herself with just 

gazing upon the boy and so yearned 

to take him on her lap and caress his

head. However, he, still bent on his 

mother's wishes, spent time in the 

arms of Anaeas before finally 

disengaging himself and making his 

way to the queen. But once she had 

lifted Cupid onto her lap she was, 

in both eye and heart, riveted and 

unable to stop herself from caressing 

his head, hugging him fondly and 

planting kisses on his cheek. Poor 

Dido, she did not know that it was 

love who was sitting on her lap and 

that he was intent on erasing the name 

of Sychaeus, letter by letter, from her 

unhappy heart which had now long 

been unused to love, and was 

replacing it with the name of Anaeas. 

Once the first part of the banquet 

was over and the food had been 

removed, the maidens and young men 

placed huge bowls of excellent wine

at strategic places around the hall. 

Lamps hanging from the walls and 

ceiling were lit and the fires were 

replenished with wood so they could 

chase away the night. The queen then 

called for her golden cup which was 

encrusted with jewels and filled it 

with unmixed wine. It was the same 

prayer cup which had been used by 

Belus and his ancestors and, after a 

bell had been rung to signify the need 

for silence, she made her prayer. 

'Father Zeus,' she prayed, 'you who 

are the giver of the laws which bind 

both guest and host alike, grant that 

this day may be auspicious for both 

the Tyrians and the voyagers from 

Troy and that its memory may live 

among us for years to come. Be with 

us also, Bacchus, the giver of jollity, 

and Hera, the queen of heaven and

of our good fortune.' 

She then poured the libation out 

onto the table and, after touching the 

cup with her lips, she handed it to 

Bitias, whom she had to scold for 

being slow to take the cup from her 

hands. After Bitias had sipped the 

wine the cup was passed to each of 

the other Tyrian lords and, when all 

had tasted the wine, Iopas, the longhaired 

bard, whose teacher was the 

mighty Atlas, took his gilded lyre and 

began filling the hall with beautiful 

music. He sang of the wanderings of 

the moon, the agonies of the sun from 

whence sprang the race of men and all 

the animals on the earth, the water 

and the fire. He also sang of Areturus 

and the showery Hyades, the twin 

bears, of why the winter suns make 

such haste to dip into Ocean Stream

and why the winter nights pass so 

slowly. But while he sang the Tyrians 

and Trojans conversed quietly with 

each other and the talk lengthened 

the night. Queen Dido, with Ascanius 

still on her lap, never ceased to 

question the Trojans about King 

Priam and Prince Hector. She also 

asked about Achilles, the arms in 

which Aurora's son had come to 

battle and what the steeds Diomedes 

had taken from Anaeas were like. But 

after a while she stopped and, turning 

to Anaeas, she said. 'I think it would 

be better, gentle guest, if you told us 

the story from the beginning and all 

about the stratagems of the Achaians, 

the sad fate of your country and 

your own wanderings since then. 

This is now the seventh summer since 

the fall of Troy, so you must have

een to many places and had many 

adventures.'

Book II 

Starting at the queen, like a ripple 

which stretches out from the centre 

of a pond when a stone is thrown into 

it, a silence washed over the hall and 

everyone looked at Anaeas as he 

began to tell his story. 

'This is a story,' he began, 

'almost too sorrowful to be told, 

great queen, and I am sorry you have 

asked me to remember how Troy and 

its empire was vanquished by King 

Agamenmon and his Achaians. I 

cannot bear to recall the heartrending 

sights I saw with own eyes 

and also the scenes in which I myself 

played a part. Who, in telling this tale, 

be he an Argive, a Trojan, a

Myrmidon or one of ruthless 

Odysseus' band, could refrain from 

tears? And at a time like this too, 

when night is closing in on us and the 

stars in the heavens are at their height. 

Still, if so great is your longing to 

hear the tale of Troy's last agony and 

acquaint yourself with out disasters, 

though my mind starts back in 

anguish and shudders at the memory, 

I will try to tell you the tale. 

'The Achaian chiefs, exhausted 

after so many years of war and foiled 

by destiny, built a wooden horse of 

great size. It was the work of the 

finest craftsmen because the chiefs 

had been inspired to do this by Pallas 

Athene who, through her omens, said 

it was to be very large and also very 

well built. But while the horse was 

being constructed the chieftains

spread the rumour that it was an 

offering to Pallas Athene for a safe 

journey home and, once it had been 

completed they chose by lot from 

among their warriors of renown and 

hid the winners within its interior. 

The whole Achaian fleet then set 

sail, but they didn't go far, only as 

far as the island of Tenedos which was 

part of King Priam's realm and had 

once been both rich and powerful. 

But after ten years of war it had 

become a barren land and nothing 

more than a shelter for ships in 

stormy seas. The Achaians hid 

themselves behind this island but we 

Trojans thought they had gone with 

the fair wind for home and shook off 

the agonies of war. We opened our 

gates with joy and you can't believe 

what a joy it was to wander around

outside the city in safety and also to 

go down to the Achaian camp and 

see how deserted it was. Of the 

countless number that had once been 

drawn up on the beach, there wasn't 

a ship in sight. We could see where 

the Argives had camped, where the 

Dolopes and Myrmidons had camped 

and where the Telamonians had 

camped. We could even see where the 

hut of the of the savage Achilles had 

once stood and where his men had 

gathered for battle. The beach, 

which only a short time before had 

been covered with ships, was now 

completely deserted! Most of us were 

also amazed by the offering they had 

left to the virgin goddess and 

wondered at its hugeness. Thymaetes 

was so excited that he began urging 

us to bring it into the city and lodge

it in the citadel, but whether his 

intent was treasonable or not I do not 

know. Perhaps one of the gods had 

addled the brains of all or it was just 

the way the fate of Troy had begun to 

set. Capys and men of saner 

judgement insisted that we throw this 

offering of the Achaians into the sea 

or light a fire underneath and burn 

it to ashes and others suggested that 

we should examine the hollow interior 

and see if anything was hidden inside. 

But unfortunately, the majority of the 

people were unable to decide and so 

everyone divided up into separate 

factions. 

At this point, Laocoon, who was 

all on fire and in an angry mood, 

came running down from the citadel 

and, gesticulating wildly, took his 

place in front of the people. 'What

strange madness is this, my unhappy 

countrymen?' He cried. 'Do you think 

that the enemy has sailed for home 

or that an Argive could ever give a 

gift with no treachery in it? Is this 

what you think of clever men like 

Odysseus? Either the Achaians are 

hiding inside this piece of wood or it 

is an engine of war which is intended 

to be placed against our walls so it 

can have command over our houses 

on the other side. Or else there is 

some other secret trick. Men of Troy, 

I beg you to put no faith in this 

horse. Whatever it is, I fear an 

Achaian, even when he has a gift in 

his hand.' 

When he finished speaking he 

took a mighty spear from the man 

standing next to him and hurled it with 

all his force against the beast's side. It

lodged in the wood and as the shaft 

quivered it seemed to some of us that 

an echo or maybe a groan of some sort 

rang out from within the hollow 

interior and, had but the will of 

heaven been known to us, we would 

there and then have taken up our 

weapons and entered the interior. 

Had we done so, we would, of course, 

have killed those lurking inside and 

King Priam's great city would still be 

standing. 

'However, as we were getting 

ladders so we could climb up and 

break open the horse, some local 

shepherds approached dragging a 

young man with them. His hands 

were tied behind his back and he 

was shouting loudly as he was 

dragged along and thrown to the 

ground in front of the king. In the

hope of accomplishing the Achaian 

mission and getting the horse drawn 

into the city, he prostrated himself 

humbly before our sovereign. Such 

was his bravery, he was ready to 

either achieve his aim or die in the 

attempt. But as he lay sprawled on the 

ground in front of the king, Trojans 

from all sides came streaming round 

to see what the commotion was all 

about and to vie with each other in 

throwing insults at the Argive 

prisoner. But listen while I tell you 

of Argive trickery and how, by this 

one act, they succeed in destroying 

the great city of Troy. The young 

man, who had by now got up on his 

knees and was looking around at the 

people who surrounded him, cried 

out in wild eyed terror. "Alas! Where 

is there a spot of earth that will give

me shelter now? What is left for a 

wretch like me who has no place even 

among his own people? Even the 

children of Dardanos are in arms 

against me and are crying for my 

blood!" 

'At this piteous cry the angry 

mood of the crowd began to change 

because everyone wanted to hear what 

the prisoner had to say for himself 

and find out why he had not sailed 

away with the rest of the fleet. When 

King Priam commanded him to speak 

he replied. "All, my lord, will become 

known to you if you will but hear me 

out. I will not deny that I am an 

Argive by birth but, if Fortune has 

made a miserable wretch out of me, I 

shall not let her turn me into a 

deceiver and liar as well. If by chance 

you have ever heard the name of

Palamedes, of the house of Belus, and 

the wide lands which were once 

under his control, you will know that 

he was an innocent man who had 

been lied against because he raised 

his voice against this war. But now 

that he has been sent to Hades' Halls 

for daring to challenge the king, he is 

lamented by many. I was his friend 

and near relative and though I was 

sent by a needy father to a warrior's 

life in earliest youth, while he was 

an honoured member of the kingly 

council I too enjoyed my measure of 

name and dignity. But I'm sure you 

know the tale." The prisoner stopped 

and looked imploringly at the king to 

see what he would say, but the king, 

who had not heard this tale before 

and had never even heard of 

Palamedes, told him to continue. But

efore getting back to his tale the 

prisoner looked around to see how 

the crowd who surrounded him were 

responding to what he had said. But 

when they just stood and looked at 

him in silence as they waited for the 

rest of his story, he continued. "It 

was the jealousy of false Odysseus. 

My lord." He said. 'Odysseus began 

by having Palamedes removed from 

his position and lowered to the status 

of a criminal. But he then persuaded 

the king that it would be better if 

Palamedes was killed because despite 

the punishment he had received, he 

was still encouraging people not to 

join the expedition. The king agreed 

and at the death of my great friend, I 

was plunged into the depths of despair 

and swore that one day I would take 

revenge for his sufferings and death.

But, fool that I was, I could not 

keep my silence and so I frequently 

spoke of what I had vowed to do and 

what would happen if ever I returned 

to my native Argos. I vowed myself 

his avenger but my words only stirred 

up bitter enmity among my fellows 

and so from that time my ruin began. 

Odysseus was a key player. He was 

always threatening me or telling lies 

about me to anyone who would 

listen. Nor did he stop until one day, 

with the help of Kalchas the prophet 

..." 

'The prisoner stopped again and 

looked around Then, in frustration, 

he burst out. "But why listen to this 

unwelcome story when you have 

nothing to gain by it? Why waste 

your time? If you hate all Achaians 

alike, why not take vengeance on me

and put me to death for, by doing 

so, you will earn a large reward from 

King Agamenmon and his brother 

King Menelaos." 

'This made all of us all extremely 

angry and, not knowing that a crime 

could be so monstrous or Argive art 

so cunning, we wanted to explore the 

reason for his presence. So we 

begged him to continue his tale and 

so, in faltering tones, he began to 

speak again. 

'"King Agamenmon had often 

resolved to abandon this war which 

had dragged on for so many years. 

Everyone wanted to go home and 

would have done so had they not 

been frightened of making the long 

journey across seas which are often 

whipped by the tempests of King 

Aeolus. Even when this horse had

een completed and we were 

making ready to depart, we were 

all terrified by that thunder of Father 

Zeus which was heard by the whole 

camp and you yourselves in Troy. In 

his perplexity the king sent Eurypylos 

to inquire of Phoebus' oracle and this 

is the gloomy message which he 

brought back from the shrine. "It 

was with the blood of a maiden's 

slaughter that ye appeased the winds 

when first ye came to the shores of 

Ilios. So with blood it is that ye must 

propitiate the heavens and buy your 

safe return to Argos." As soon as this 

news reached the soldiers every mind 

was cowed and a cold shudder thrilled 

the depths of every heart. Who was 

the victim going to be? Who did 

Apollo demand as his prey? King 

Agamenmon demanded that Kalchas

tell us what this announcement from 

heaven meant and there were many 

who warned me that I was going to 

be the victim of cruel villainy, for they 

had a good idea of what was likely to 

happen. Nevertheless, for ten days 

Kalchas held his peace and kept to his 

hut. He refused to utter a word or 

disclose the name of the one who 

would have to be sacrificed. But at 

last, goaded by the impatient 

clamour of almost the whole army 

which was anxious to begin the 

journey home, he broke his silence 

and condemned me to the altar. All 

agreed and most, in the deepest part 

of their hearts, were delighted by 

the fact that it was me who had been 

named and not them. But when the 

day of horror came and all was being 

made ready for my sacrifice, I broke

my bonds and escaped my death. I 

admit it. There came a moment 

when the guards turned their 

attention to the wine which had been 

brought with their meal and I dashed 

from my tent. I then fled the camp and 

hid myself in the muddy marsh in 

the hope that if they did not find me 

quickly, they would sail away. 

Which, as you know, they did. My 

home I never expect to see again. 

Nor do I expect to see my darling 

children or the father I have longed 

so much to see. No! Once the king 

reaches Argos he will kill all my 

family in revenge for my escape. Oh, 

by the gods above and the powers 

which know when truth is spoken, if 

there is yet in the heart of any man 

such a thing as unsullied faith? I beg 

you, have pity on my suffering. Have

pity on a soul which has been so 

unfairly and so ruthlessly crushed!"' 

Anaeas paused for a moment at 

this point and took a sip of wine from 

his cup. Looking around at the 

shadowy figures in the flickering 

firelight he could not determine a 

single face, but he could sense that 

every person present was agog with 

excitement and desperate to hear 

more of his tale. So, after taking 

another sip from his cup, he took a 

deep breath and continued his story. 

'Such a tearful appeal gained this man 

our compassion and also his life. King 

Priam himself was the first to order 

the shepherds to cut the bond's which 

bound him and addressed him in 

words of kindness. "Whoever you 

are," he said, "from this time forth 

you must have done with the Argives

and their allies. Forget them and I 

will make you a man of my city. But 

first I bid you answer truthfully the 

questions I shall put. What did the 

Argives mean by building this great 

wooden horse and who was the 

instigator of the idea? What where 

they hoping to achieve? Is this 

gigantic horse a religious offering or 

an engine of war?" 

'At this point, the prisoner, 

calling on all his Argive cunning, 

raised his unbound hands to the stars. 

"You eternal fires who have the 

inviolable gods as your masters. 

You altars of the impious swords 

from which I fled and you, hallowed 

clothing which I wore for the 

sacrifice be my witnesses! All the 

claims of the land of my birth 

notwithstanding, I am free to break

all the sacred ties which bound me 

to the Argives and their allies. I am 

free to treat them as my foes and can 

expose all their secrets to the light of 

day." '"The strength of the Achaians 

in this war has always depended 

on Pallas Athene. But from the time 

that Diomedes and also Odysseus, 

that coiner of villainy, dared to sail on 

a raid and drag her statue from the 

Palladium, there was an ebb and a 

backsliding in Achaian fortunes. The 

goddess was estranged and Achaian 

forces began to lose ground. Do you 

not recall the death of Achilles, their 

most redoubtable man? But scarce 

had the image been lodged in the 

camp when flashing fire glowed in 

her uplifted eyes and tears trickled 

down her cheeks. Three times the

statute actually fell to the ground and 

had to be put back up. At this 

Kalchas called for us to fly home over 

the perilous deep because the 

Pergamos would now never be razed 

by Achaian bronze. He scanned the 

omens and said that the whole force 

had to go back to Argos to regain the 

goodwill of Pallas Athene. Once they 

had done this they would be able to 

recross the deep with a new force 

and come upon Troy again. As for 

this horse, he told them to set it up 

in exchange for the statute they had 

taken from the Palladium as it would 

atone, at least in some measure, for 

their heinous crime. However, he 

bade them to make the horse 

extremely large and knit plank 

carefully to plank so that it might 

not be admitted into the city of Troy

as only then would Pallas Athene 

look favourably on them once more. 

Kalchas then said that if this offering 

should ever be brought into the city 

and lodged in the citadel, the gods 

would turn the omen on its head and 

it would destroy them. All of Achaia 

would be conquered by King Priam 

and his Dardanians." 

'Such was the stratagem of the 

Achaians and the cursed art of Sinon 

the liar, that this story gained 

credence over the people and won 

for the Achaians a victory which, in 

ten years, could not be gained by a 

force which came in a thousand ships 

and, even including our allies, was 

up to ten times larger than the force 

which Troy had to defend itself with. 

'But now another object, greater 

and far more terrible, was forced on

my poor countrymen and it added 

enormous confusion to their blind 

souls. Shortly after we had heard 

Sinon the liar out, Laocoon, who was 

Poseidon's priest, was sacrificing a 

mighty bull at the altar when behold, 

from Tenedos, over the still deep 

waters, I shudder as I recount the tale, 

two great serpents were seen 

swimming across the sea and making 

their way towards our shore. Their 

heads and breasts were erect in the 

water while the remainder of their 

long, undulating bodies trailed 

behind. Their colour was a blood red 

hue and when they landed on our 

shore, their forked tongues darted 

continually out of their hissing 

mouths. Everyone fled in terror but 

they, almost as if they knew what 

they intended to do, made straight for

Laocoon. Each snake then wrapped 

its coils around one of Laocoon's 

sons and squeezed him to death 

before greedily opening up its great 

jaws and swallowing the body whole. 

But when the father tried to come to 

the rescue of his sons with a weapon 

in his hand, one of them fastened on 

him and, winding its coils tightly 

around him, reared up and glared 

down on him with a wide, gaping 

mouth. Laocoon strained to release 

himself from its clutches and his 

priestly clothes were covered in gore 

and black poison while all the time 

he raised a dreadful cry to heaven. It 

was like the sound of a bull which, 

because of an ill aimed axe, has been 

wounded but not killed and so, with 

loud bellows, it dashes from the altar. 

But because of the weapon Laocoon

was carrying or perhaps because the 

snake, which had already swallowed 

one of his sons, was distended and 

unable to exert enough pressure, 

Laocoon eventually managed to 

escape its coils whereupon the two 

serpents glided up to the top of the 

temple and coiled themselves around 

the feet of the statue to Pallas Athene, 

the Lady Triton. At this, every 

person was cowed and although their 

deepest souls were thrilled by this 

new and strange terror, every voice 

insisted that Laocoon had been duly 

punished for his crime of profaning 

the sacred horse and hurling his spear 

against its side. Everyone also called 

for the horse to be brought to the 

temple immediately so they could 

pray to the goddess and gain 

dominion over the Argives. As a

esult we broke open the city's gates 

and even dismantled some of the wall 

so we could drag the horse inside. 

Everyone helped in this endeavour. 

Carpenters put wheels under its feet 

so that it could run more easily 

across the ground and many ropes of 

hemp were tied around its front legs 

and neck. In this way it was dragged 

up from the shore, across the plain and 

to the gates of the city. As it was 

brought up from the beach, it was 

surrounded by young boys and 

unwedded girls who sang sacred 

hymns and delighted in running their 

hands across its legs and along the 

ropes which were being used to drag 

it along. So, in it came, into the very 

heart of our city. Oh, my country! 

Oh, land of Ilios! Oh ye walls of 

Troy which withstood the might of

Achaia for over ten years, how 

could we have been so stupid? But 

we were warned. Four times, on the 

very threshold of the city's gates, the 

horse stopped and refused to budge 

and we even heard arms rattling 

within its womb. However, such was 

our frenzy to lodge this great piece 

in our city that we paid no attention 

and pressed on. Even then Princess 

Kassandra continued to speak of the 

fate which lay in store for us but, by 

command of the god whose 

advances she had rejected, not a 

single Trojan believed a word she 

said. She never stopped crying out 

her warnings but we, alas, ignored her 

and, after having taken three days to 

drag the horse into the city, we spent 

the remainder of that third day 

celebrating our success in the

temples. 

But as the night came upon the 

sky and wrapped the earth in 

darkness, we Trojans eventually 

threw ourselves down to sleep. We 

were exhausted after the effort of 

bringing the horse from the beach and 

such was our confidence, we only put 

a few guards on the walls. But 

unbeknownst to us, under a glowing 

moon the Achaian fleet was already 

travelling quietly over the still water 

and making for a shore the ships 

knew well. Meanwhile, Sinon the 

liar, sheltered by King Priam's 

decree, stealthily released the 

Achaians hidden in the womb of the 

horse. He opened the secret door 

which was so finely crafted, no one 

knew of its presence and out leapt the 

warriors with Thessander and

Sthenelos leading the way. Behind 

came them the dreaded Odysseus, 

Akamas, Thoas, Neoptolemos, 

Machaon and Menelaos. Epeus, the 

framer of the plan came too and 

together they rushed on the town as it 

was drowned in sleep and put all 

the guards to the sword. Throwing 

open the gates they then welcomed 

their comrades who were coming up 

from the ships. 

'All this happened just at the time 

when the first slumber comes to heal 

human suffering and steals upon men 

with heaven's blessing and the 

balmiest of influences. But, as I slept, 

before my eyes there appeared a 

vision of Prince Hector in deepest 

sorrow. He seemed to be shedding 

rivers of tears and his body was 

covered with dust and looked

mangled and disfigured. Even his 

feet were grotesquely swollen at the 

point where Achilles had cut them 

open with his knife. Ah, what a 

terrible sight! And what a change 

from the brave Hector who used to 

come back to Troy after giving the 

Achaians a thrashing or hurling fire 

on their ships? But now his body 

was disfigured, his hair was matted 

with blood and his wounds looked 

fresh. Such was the pain in my breast 

that for a while I could not speak but 

eventually I addressed him with tears 

like his own. "Oh light of Ilios!" I 

cried, "Protector of Troy! What has 

kept you for so long? From what 

clime are you now coming to us? Are 

you here to stay? Have you come 

back to life? In the months since 

your death the people of Troy have

known much suffering and they are 

both spent and weary. But what 

unworthy cause has marred that 

beauty of yours? Why do I behold 

these wounds?" 

'For a while Prince Hector held 

his silence and did not answer my 

questions. But then, with a deep 

groan which seemed to come from the 

very bottom of his heart, he cried. 

"Fly, goddess born! Escape from the 

flames! The walls of Troy are now in 

enemy hands and the city is tumbling 

from its summit. When Pergamus 

could be defended by force of arms, 

the claims of the king were 

satisfied. But now all is lost and you 

must take our city's gods so that they 

can watch over your destiny. You 

must seek for them a mighty city 

which you shall one day build after

you have wandered many oceans." 

Then he brought me the statute of 

Queen Vesta in all her sacred robes 

and the ever burning flame which had 

stood at her feet. 

'Meanwhile the war spread 

through the city and though the 

palace of my father was some way 

from the city centre and set back in 

a grove of trees, the sounds of battle 

began to swell and it was these which 

woke me from my dream. When I 

finally realized what the noise was, I 

couldn't believe what I was hearing 

and so I climbed up onto our 

sloping roof to see what I could. But 

although I could hear the sounds of 

warfare, it was a little while before 

I saw the fires begin to spring up. For 

a while I watched in utter amazement 

and noted that as the fires sprang up,

each new one seemed closer than the 

one before. It was then that, with 

abject horror, I realized what had 

happened. I was so dazed that I just 

continued to stand and stare and, as I 

did so, I saw fire begin to engulf 

Deiphobos' palace and knew that he 

and his neighbours had fallen to the 

enemy. Then, from somewhere, came 

the sound of braying trumpets calling 

the Trojans to arms and so my first 

impulse was to rush into my palace, 

gather my arms and my men and go 

to the Pergamus. I was obsessed with 

the idea of rushing headlong into the 

battle because I couldn't bear the 

thought of dying without a weapon in 

my hand. 

'But then I saw that Panthoos 

had escaped the Achaians. Panthoos, 

who was Orthrys' son and a priest of

Phoebus Apollo in the citadel, had 

come to the door of our palace 

carrying the most sacred possessions 

of Troy and dragging his young 

grandchild with him. "How goes it, 

Panthoos." I shouted down from the 

roof. "What is happening? What 

hold have we over the citadel?" I had 

scarcely said these words when, with 

a groan, he shouted back. "It has 

come. The last day of Troy. There 

will be no more Trojans and no 

more land of Ilios. Father Zeus, in 

his cruelty, has cast the great renown 

of the sons of Dardanos to the ground 

and made the Achaians our masters. 

Achaians are pouring into the city 

and Sinon himself, in his insolence, is 

setting fire to whatever he can. 

Thousands are coming up from the 

shore and killing whomsoever they

can find. The streets are clogged with 

the enemy and there is slaughter 

whichever way you look. Some of the 

guards are still holding out but the 

enemy is so numerous, resistance is 

futile." 

'At these words from the son of 

Othrys, I knew what heaven was 

planning but ran down from the roof 

all the same and after putting on my 

armour, I raced out into the street with 

those of my men I could gather. I 

followed the sound of the War God's 

yelling which rose up to the stars and 

on the way I was joined by Rhipeus 

and brave Epytus. We then joined up 

with Hypanis, Dymas and young 

Coroebus, Mygdon's son. He had 

only just arrived in Troy with a 

frantic passion for Kassandra and was 

bringing a son in law's aid to King

Priam. Poor boy! He had given no 

heed to the warnings of his bride to 

be. But, seeing them gathered with 

their men in a mass and ready for 

battle I called out. "Young hearts, 

full of unavailing valour! You can see 

the plight we are in. But are you 

willing to follow a desperate man? 

Gone from our shrine and altar are 

the gods who upheld this empire 

while the city which gave us succour 

is now an inferno. If you choose death 

with me then let us rush into the thick 

of the fight for there is only one hope 

for vanquished men, and that is to 

hope for nothing but death." These 

words stirred their young spirits to 

madness and so, like ravenous wolves 

on a dark night who are driven 

abroad by the blind rage of lawless 

hunger, we set off for the heart of

the town. What words could express 

the carnage of the night and the 

horrors we saw? Here, in one night, 

was an ancient city falling from the 

heights she had enjoyed for so long. 

The streets were strewn with bodies; 

many of them in front of their own 

homes or on the steps of the temples 

to which they had fled to pray for 

deliverance. But it wasn't only on the 

son's of Dardanos that the bloody 

vengeance alighted, for there are 

times when even the vanquished feel 

courage rushing back into their veins 

and they repay death with death. 

Everywhere there was death. In some 

places the Achaians were slaughtering 

Trojans but in others Achaians were 

being met by Trojans who, 

emboldened by the fact that they 

had nothing to lose, had no difficulty

in slaughtering them. 

The first enemy we met, with a 

large band at his back, was 

Androgeos. In his ignorance he took 

us for a troop of his friends and 

hailed us in words of fellowship. 

"Come, my men, be quick!" He cried. 

"What sloth is holding you back? 

Pergamos is on fire and the rest of 

us are helping ourselves to treasures 

without end. But here you are just 

walking lazily along as if you were 

out for an afternoon stroll! Have you 

just come up from the ships?" But 

when no reply was forthcoming he 

realized he had fallen into the thick 

of his enemy and, struck with fear, he 

fell silent and began to retreat. He 

was like a man who, when out on a 

walk one day, accidentally steps on a 

snake and recoils at once in sudden

alarm from the angry uplifted head, 

the black swelling neck, and the 

dangerous hissing. So, Androgeos, 

appalled by the sight of us Trojans, 

fell back. But we rushed him and, as 

they were unfamiliar with the ground, 

they were unable to flee and so we 

slaughtered every man in the group. 

Fortune had smiled on our first 

encounter and it was then that 

Coroebus, flushed with success and 

daring cried, "Come my friends to 

where Fortune directs us. She has 

revealed herself as our ally and we 

must follow her. Let us change 

shields and see if Argive decorations 

will suit us. Be it strength or deceit, 

who, when dealing with an enemy 

cares which? Let the Achaians arm 

us against themselves." So saying he 

put on Androgeos' crested helmet,

strapped his sword to his side and 

gathered up his shield. So did 

Rhipeus and Dymas and then every 

one of us followed suit. After we had 

each armed ourselves with these 

spoils of war we went on mixing with 

the Achaians under auspices which 

were not our own. We had many 

combats but surprise was always on 

our side and so we sent many down 

to Hades' Halls. But there were also 

many who, confused and terrified 

by being unable to distinguish friend 

from foe, fled back to their ships on 

the shore at full speed and some, in 

their dread, even tried to climb into 

the horse and hide themselves in its 

womb. 

'As we fought our way through 

the city we chanced to see a princess 

of Priam's house being dragged by

her hair from the temple, from the 

very shrine of Minerva itself. It was 

Kassandra, shouting and straining her 

flashing eyes to heaven, but in vain 

because those delicate hands of hers 

had been cruelly bound together. 

The sight was too much for Coroebus 

and so he flung himself into the 

middle of the hostile force. We 

followed close behind and, although 

we managed to rescue Kassandra, we 

were driven back. But then, from the 

roof of the lofty temple we were 

overwhelmed by a shower of spears 

and arrows from our own men. They 

had mistaken us for Argives and 

quite a few of us were killed. After 

this, the Achaians, enraged at the 

rescue of Kassandra, rallied from all 

sides and fell upon us. Aias the 

runner in all his fury, the two sons of

Atreus and a whole array of Dolopes, 

Argives and Myrmidons set upon us. 

Even as on a day when the tempest 

is on the rage and fierce wind meets 

fierce wind; west, south and east, so 

the battle raged up and down the 

streets of Troy. Thanks to our 

stratagem we began by driving the 

enemy back but they rallied and 

attacked us again. As soon as they 

recognised our imposture, they kept 

calling loudly to each other and, by 

being aware of the different sound of 

our speech, they were able to 

coordinate their attacks and we were 

overwhelmed by their numbers. First 

of all, Coroebus was laid low by 

Peneleos and his place of death was 

the altar of the Pallas Athene. Slain 

too was Rhipeus, the most righteous 

man in Troy. Down too went

Hypanis and Dymas, both shot by 

their friends on the roof of the temple 

and nor could all his acts of piety save 

the good Panthoos, priest of Apollo 

though he was. But those of us who 

were left did not shrink from any 

encounter and, had it been our fate 

to fall, our spears and swords would 

have earned us a place in history. 

As the fight continued the Achaians 

recaptured Kassandra and our group 

was dispersed, so those of my men 

who were left to me and I became 

separated from the others. But before 

we even had time to catch our breaths 

we were summoned by the shouting 

in King Priam's palace. 

When we arrived the conflict was 

gigantic and it was almost as if it was 

the only place in town were the war 

was being waged. Ares the God of

War was foaming at the mouth and 

raging untamed and, as the door had 

been blockaded, the Achaians were 

trying to climb onto the roof. Scaling 

ladders had been thrown against the 

walls and the Achaians, holding their 

shields with their left hands to 

protect them from the falling missiles 

and using their right to climb up 

the ladders, gradually forced their 

way upwards. The Trojans on the top 

however, as they made their last 

desperate defence, were even tearing 

up the roof for weapons to hurl down 

on the ascending enemy. Stately 

ornaments, tiles and statues; they 

grabbed at anything which might 

serve as a weapon. When the 

Achaians finally reached the roof, the 

defenders drew their swords or picked 

up their spears and faced the

advancing foe. But the sight of those 

brave men was too much for me. It 

breathed new daring into my heart and 

I raced to help them. 

'I knew there was a hidden 

entrance to the palace in the rear. But 

as I led my men through the concealed 

door and into the palace, I saw the 

distraught Andromache looking at us 

in terror and cradling little Astyanax 

in her arms. But instead of stopping I 

rushed passed her and made my way 

to the roof where the wretched 

Trojans were fighting a losing battle. 

The tower was still standing and 

from the top you could, on a clear day, 

look out over all of Troy, the plain 

and the Achaian camp on the shore. 

To this we applied the butt ends of 

our spears, just where the lofty 

flooring made the joining insecure.

So much damage had already been 

done to the roof that it took only a 

little effort to wrench the tower from 

its base and topple it over. Down the 

whole edifice crashed and the falling 

masonry tumbled far and wide onto 

the Achaian ranks below. Countless 

numbers of them were killed but 

others immediately took their places 

and continued the attack. 

'In the entrance to the palace I 

saw Neoptolemos, son of Achilles, 

in his all glory with his father's great 

spear and gleaming sword. With him 

was the gigantic Telamonian Aias, 

who, for a change, looked somewhat 

ill at ease with himself and unsure 

of what he was doing and also 

Automedon, who had once been 

Achilles' charioteer. Confronted by 

the stubborn door Neoptolemos took

a two headed axe in hand and began 

attacking it. It didn't take him long to 

force it open a little and through the 

crack he could see the interior of the 

palace and the armed warriors who 

stood in wait for him and his men. 

But still he continued to hack at the 

door which barred his way. 

'Behind the men who waited for 

Neoptolemos with their shields 

overlapping and spears levelled, was 

a confused scene of shrieking 

disorder. The vaulted chamber was 

filled with female lamentation and 

the heart-rending noise was so great, 

it reached the twinkling stars above. 

Terror stricken matrons ran to and 

fro through the spacious rooms, 

grasping at the walls and kissing them 

as they prayed for deliverance. But 

Neoptolemus kept attacking the door

with all his father's might and 

eventually it was unable to hold him. 

As force will always find a way, it 

eventually gave way under the 

continued strokes of the axe and 

allowed the Achaians to burst into 

the room and begin slaughtering all 

they met. The palace was quickly 

filled with the enemy and with my 

own eyes I saw the crazed 

Neoptolemos along with the two sons 

of Atreus standing in the palace. I 

also saw Hekabe with all her 

daughters in law and King Priam at 

the altar, praying to the flames he 

had himself made holy. But as the 

Achaians overran the palace, even 

those fifty marriage chambers and 

their splendid promise of children 

and children's children all sank in the 

dust. For where there was fire, the

Achaians were masters. 

'But perhaps you are anxious to 

hear of King Priam's fate?' Continued 

Anaeas looking briefly in the 

direction of Queen Dido. 'When he 

saw his city fallen and the doors of 

his palace being attacked by the foe, 

although it was a hopeless gesture, 

he put on his armour and took up 

his bronze headed spear, the point of 

which gleamed in the light from the 

torches on the wall. In the midst of 

the palace courtyard, under the 

naked sky, stood a great altar and by 

it a tree of age untold which leant 

over it and enfolded the household 

gods in its shade. Here about the altar 

Hekabe and her daughters, all like 

helpless doves which have been 

driven down by a howling tempest, 

huddled together and clung to the

statues of their gods. But when 

Hekabe saw King Priam wearing 

the arms of youth she cried. "What 

monstrous thought, my most wretched 

spouse, has moved you to gird 

yourself for war? To where are you 

hurrying? It is not an old man in 

armour that this crisis needs. No! 

Weapons would not help even if our 

lost Hector were now at our side. 

Come and join us here. This altar 

shall be our defence or else we will 

die together." With this she rose and, 

taking him gently by the hand, led him 

to where they were huddled and sat 

him down with the rest. 

'Just at this moment, Polites, one 

of Priam's sons who had escaped the 

attackers, ran flying along the 

corridor and entered the courtyard 

hotly pursued by Neoptolemos. But

as he entered the courtyard and came 

into the view of his parents, 

Neoptolemos came up behind him 

and, with a deadly stroke, drove his 

father's great spear into his back. 

Down he fell and out poured his life 

in a gush of blood. At this King 

Priam, though hemmed in by death 

on every side, could not restrain 

himself or control his voice. "Aye" 

he cried, "for an outrage such as this, 

may the gods, if there is any sense 

of right in heaven, take note and 

give you what you deserve. You, who 

have made me look with my own 

eyes upon my son's death, have 

stained a father's memory with the 

sight of blood. But Achilles, who was 

your sire, dealt not like this with me. 

Hector's lifeless body he gave back 

to me so I could bury him in the

proper manner and give him peace." 

So saying the old man hurled his 

spear at Neoptolemos which, 

because of his age, just bounced 

harmlessly off the young man's 

armour. "Take your complaint 

about me," retorted Neoptolemos, 

"to my father down in Hades' Halls. 

Tell him about my shocking deeds 

and how degenerate I am. Now die!" 

With these words he dragged King 

Priam through his son's blood until 

they reached the altar and there, 

grabbing the old man's hair in his left 

hand, with his right he unsheathed 

his great sword and removed the 

old king's head from his shoulders. 

Such was the end of King Priam 

while Troy burned in front of his 

darkening eyes. Once the mighty 

ruler of many nations and sovereign

lord of Asia, he now lay on the 

ground with his head severed from 

his shoulders. His body without a 

face. 'At this horror, I suddenly thought 

of my own father who was the same 

age as the king. I also thought of 

Creusa and my little Ascanius and 

the danger I had left them in. I looked 

around to see how many of my 

men were still with me, but all 

had disappeared. They had either 

been killed or were too tired to stay 

and had leapt to the ground. So there 

I was on the roof, completely alone, 

when I chanced to see Argive Helen 

lodged in the temple of Vesta and 

crouching mutely in its darkest 

recess. This sight gave direction to 

my wandering feet and light to my 

ranging glance. Yes, there she was

in all her guilt, dreading both the 

Dardanians whom the overthrow of 

Troy had made her enemies and the 

wrath of the husband she had 

abandoned. She, the common fiend 

of both Troy and her country, had 

hidden herself away and was 

hoping to avoid being seen. Anger 

rose in my breast and I was seized by 

a fury. I wanted to avenge my country 

and do justice to the wretch. "So," I 

cried, "she is to see her native Sparta 

and live as a queen in her own country 

again is she? She is to look upon her 

lord and her old home, her child and 

her parents and also have a crowd of 

captive Trojan ladies to dance 

attendance on her is she? Shall it be 

for this that King Priam died and 

Troy has been razed to the ground? Is 

it for this that our land has so often

een soaked with the blood of so 

many brave heroes? No! Never! For 

though there are no proud memories 

to be won by vengeance on a woman 

and no laurels to be reaped from a 

conquest such as this, the extinction 

of so vile a creature and the exaction 

of vengeance will count as a praise in 

itself. It will be a joy to have glutted 

my spirit with her blood." Such were 

the wild words I was uttering and such 

were the impulses of my infuriated 

heart as I made my way across the 

roof to where she was hiding. But 

suddenly there appeared to me, 

brighter than I had ever seen her 

before, my gracious mother in all her 

deity and in the same mien and stature 

by which she is known to the 

dwellers of heaven. She seized me by 

the hand which held my spear and

said. "My son, what mighty agony is 

it which stirs this untamed passion 

of yours? What means this frenzy? 

Where is your care for me? Will you 

not first see where you have left your 

aged father? Where is your wife 

Creusa? Is she still alive? What 

about your little Ascanius? All about 

them the Argive warriors are raging 

to and fro and were it not for me, you 

would not even have a chance of 

rescuing them. It is not the hated 

beauty of Argive Helen nor the 

actions of Paris which are responsible 

for all this. No it is heaven, unpitying 

heaven that is overturning this great 

empire and levelling Troy to the 

ground. See here, for I will take away 

the cloud which blinds your eyes 

and dulls your mind." Then suddenly, 

I was out of my body and looking

down on the blazing city of Troy and 

hearing my mother's words: "Here, 

where you see the city falling is 

Poseidon with his mighty trident 

shaking the walls he built and taking 

away their very foundations. Over 

there by the Skaian Gate is Hera, the 

most vindictive of foes and in tones 

of fury she is summoning her 

confederates from the ships. Over 

there, above the city, is Pallas Athene, 

dressed for war and seated on a cloud 

which is shaped like the Gorgon's 

head. Father Zeus himself is helping 

the Achaians and giving them both 

the strength and courage they need 

for victory. So come my son, take 

advantage of flight while still you can 

and bring the struggle to an end. I 

will not leave you until you have 

reached your father's door?' Then

she veiled herself in night and I saw 

a vision of all the gods who were 

arrayed against Troy. 

'Even as I watched, I could see 

the whole of the city being engulfed 

by flames and the walls which 

Poseidon had built begin to crumble. 

It was like an ancient ash on a 

mountain top which woodsmen with 

axes hack at repeatedly. But as they 

hack away it refuses to topple but 

sways and shakes and keeps nodding 

its leafy head in a menacing manner. 

But at last, mortally weakened by 

the wounds at its base, it gives a great 

groan and topples to the ground. In 

such a manner was the city of Troy 

falling from its heights before my 

eyes. It was at this point that my 

mother put the wool back over my 

eyes and suddenly I was myself again.

After one quick look around the 

palace, I could see there was nothing 

to be rescued from the carnage and 

so immediately jumped down from 

the roof and went out into the street 

and, following the instructions of my 

heavenly mother, I threaded my way 

carefully through the flames and 

rampaging Achaians. 

'When I finally reached the door 

of the old house I knew so well I 

sought out my father as it was my 

first resolve to carry him away to the 

hills. But he refused to try and survive 

the razing of Troy and submit to 

banishment. "It is those of you who 

are young," he said firmly, "and 

whose strength is still firm who 

should think of flight. For me, if the 

dwellers in heaven had wanted to 

prolong my life, they would have

preserved my home. Surely it is 

enough to have once outlived the 

capture and sack of one's city? But 

now I am not going to run any more 

so you must bid farewell to my 

corpse and be gone. I will try to find 

myself a warrior's death as I tempt an 

enemy with the glory of being the 

one to slay me. The loss of a tomb 

will not worry me for age has made 

me hated by heaven and useless to 

earth." 

'Such were the words he kept 

repeating but while we argued with 

each other, Creusa Ascanius and my 

whole household begged him not to 

be stubborn and drag us all down with 

him. But he refused to change his 

mind and so once more, in my agony, 

I decided to plunge back into battle 

and die a warrior's death. I could not

leave my father behind for without 

him, what could wisdom or fortune 

hold for me in the future? But before 

leaving I told him sternly that if it was 

the will of heaven that nothing in the 

city was going to be spared, the doors 

of death stood open for him and he 

could find pleasure in throwing 

himself on the attacking Achaians. I 

also reminded him that Neoptolemos, 

who had just been bathing in King 

Priam's blood and who found pleasure 

in butchering a son before his father's 

eyes and then butchering the father 

himself, would soon be in his house. 

I was infuriated by his stubbornness 

and so I cried out. "Gracious Mother! 

Was it for this that you rescued me 

from fire, spear and sword? That I 

should see the enemy in the heart of 

my home and watch while my little

Ascanius, my father, and my Creusa 

are all hacked to death in a pool of 

each other's blood?" Then I shouted to 

my servants. "My arms! Bring me 

my arms. The call of death rings in 

the ears of the conquered, but let me 

return to the streets and renew the 

combat, for never shall it be said 

that the Trojans were slaughtered 

without resistance." 

So saying I fitted my shield to my 

left arm and picked up my spear but, 

as I was making for the door, my wife 

ran up and clung to my arm. She held 

my little Ascanius up to me and said. 

"If it is to death that you are going, 

then take us with you. But if 

experience gives you any hope in the 

fight you intend to resume, let your 

first stand be made here in your home. 

To whom do you think you are

leaving your little Ascanius, your 

father and I who am your wife? Will 

you leave us here to be slaughtered by 

the son of Achilles the savage while 

you try and win glory and renown for 

yourself in the burning streets?" 

'As she clung to my arm and 

sobbed, her moans filled the house 

and I was undecided as to what to do. 

But then a portent appeared which 

was both sudden and marvellous to 

behold. For even while the hands and 

eyes of his loving parents were upon 

him, a flickering tongue of flame was 

seen to shoot from Ascanius' head 

and it played around his soft curly 

locks. But although the fire appeared 

to do no damage we both immediately 

beat at the flames and tried to put 

them out. When we failed we rushed 

our little boy to the fountain and

were about to submerge his head in 

the water when my father cried out 

and raised his eyes in ecstasy to 

heaven. Holding up his hands to the 

sky and directing his voice to the 

stars he prayed. "Almighty Zeus, if 

any prayer can change your mind, 

then I ask that you look down on us 

and if our piety has earned us your 

good will, grant us your succour and 

ratify the omen we now see." Scarcely 

had the old man finished speaking 

when there came a sudden peal of 

thunder on the left and a star with a 

torchlike train fell from the heavens in 

a blaze of light. Over the top of our 

house we saw it pass and we marked 

its course along the sky until it buried 

itself in Mount Ida's wood. Then, 

after a period in which we all stood in 

shocked silence, my father prayed

again to the gods. "No more delays 

from me. I will follow your guidance 

and am ready to go wherever you 

lead me. Gods of Troy, preserve my 

house and my grandchild and also 

the line of Dardanos." Turning then 

to me he said. "Yes, my son, I give 

way and will not shrink from 

accompanying you on your flight." 

But as he was saying this the noise of 

the rampaging Achaians and the fires 

they were lighting throughout the 

city grew louder and nearer . "Come 

then, dear father," I said hurriedly, 

"take your seat on my back for my 

shoulders will support you and I shall 

not feel the task a burden. Fall things 

as they may, we shall share the peril 

and share the deliverance. Let little 

Ascanius walk by my side while my 

wife, for safety, follows our steps at

a distance." Turning then to my 

servants I said. "You, who have 

been our long and faithful servants, 

attend to what I say. As you leave 

the city there is a mound on which 

stands an ancient temple to Ceres. 

It stands on its own beside an old 

cypress tree and was revered by our 

ancestors. That shall be our meeting 

place. So gather what you can from 

the house and make for that spot." 

After sending them on their way I 

turned to my father and said. 

"Father, take hold of these things 

which are sacred to our gods. I have 

just emerged from the carnage of this 

dreadful war so there is blood on my 

hands and it would be a sacrilege 

for me to touch them before I have 

cleansed myself in running water." 

'So saying I covered my

shoulders with a robe over which I 

put a lion's tawny hide and took up 

my precious burden. My little 

Ascanius fastened his hand in mine 

and followed his father with ill 

matched steps while my wife 

followed on behind. Once out of the 

house and into the burning streets we 

kept to what shadow we could find 

but I, who had never before quailed at 

the spears and arrows which rained 

on me or the mass of Argives, 

Telamonians or Myrmidons which 

barred my way, was now scared by 

every breath of air and startled by 

every sound. I was terrified for the 

burden I carried, my son and also my 

wife. But as we neared the gates and 

thought our journey accomplished, I 

heard the sound of trampling feet and 

my father peered into the darkness

ahead. "My son!" he cried, "Fly! 

They are upon us. I can see the gleam 

of their bronze and from their shields 

it looks like they are Myrmidons." In 

this alarm some unfriendly power 

addled my judgment and so I left the 

path and took to where there was no 

none. Swerving here and there I 

began to try and make my way by 

scrambling across the rubble of ruined 

houses. But woe was me! Destiny 

tore me from my Creusa. Whether she 

stopped or went in another direction 

or sat down for a rest I never knew, 

for I never saw her again. But at the 

time I did not look back to discover 

my loss. I did not even think about 

her until we had passed through the 

city gates and reached the ancient 

temple of Ceres. There, when we 

were all gathered and congratulating

ourselves on our escape, I noticed 

that she was missing. I could not 

believe my misfortune and such was 

my anger that my distraught voice 

spared no one. I rounded on every 

person and blamed them for her 

disappearance. But it was no use. 

Nobody had seen what happened to 

her so I looked back towards the 

burning city and my heart bled even 

more. I was so distraught that 

Ascanius, my father and also the 

sacred relics of our city I gave into my 

comrades care and, picking up my 

shield and spear, I made my way back 

to the city. I was determined to risk 

every hazard again and to retrace my 

steps through the whole of Troy. If 

necessary, I would go all the way 

back to my father's house. First I 

returned to the city walls and the

dark gate by which we had passed out. 

But there was no sign of her and 

so from there I followed my 

footsteps back through the night, 

searching everywhere for a sign of my 

beloved wife. But wherever I looked 

my eyes were met only by burning 

buildings and the mutilated bodies of 

dead Trojans, many of whom I 

recognised and had once called my 

friend. I pressed on through the 

streets though every time I saw a 

group of revelling Achaians, I had to 

duck into cover which, because of the 

ruins, was now plentiful. But when 

I eventually reached my father's house 

I found I was too late. A group of 

Myrmidons, led by Neoptolemos, 

had broken in and were busy 

ransacking every chamber. As I 

watched this sacrilege to our home, I

saw small flames of fire begin to 

lick at the walls and then the crackling 

flames, which grew larger and 

brighter by the moment, quickly 

climbed up to the roof and began to 

engulf the house with a roar. I didn't 

dare linger for even if my beloved 

wife had returned to our house, it 

would have been too late. "Perhaps," 

I thought to myself, "she has gone 

to the citadel." But when I got there 

the sacred cloisters were littered with 

bodies and the floor was awash with 

blood. In the centre I could see 

Odysseus standing with old Phoenix 

and watching his men gather up the 

treasures and throw them onto a large 

tapestry which had been spread out 

on the floor. Golden ornaments, 

sacred vestments and items of great 

value such as jewel encrusted bowls

of solid silver or gold were tossed into 

it with scant regard for their value 

and, standing over this terrible 

carnage, with what seemed to be a 

smile on her face, was the statue of 

Hera, sister and consort of Zeus and 

Queen of Heaven. But more 

heartbreaking than that was fact that 

cowering in a corner and trembling 

in their terror at the unknown fate 

which awaited them were a large 

number of Trojan women, little girls 

and small boys. 

There was, alas, nothing I could 

do to help any of these unfortunate 

people whose destiny it was to 

become slaves in some part of King 

Agamenmon's realm so I passed on 

and, as I walked the streets, I filled 

the air with shouts for my Creusa. 

But despite the fact that I could find

no sign of her I refused to give up. 

Acting like a lunatic and ignoring 

the risk of attracting death from an 

Achaian who would know from my 

voice I was a Trojan, I called again 

and again. But then suddenly, as 

I continued making my way through 

the burning streets, an image of 

Creusa appeared in front of me. At 

first I thought it was her but quickly 

realized that the woman I was looking 

at was much larger than she was in 

life and so I was aghast. I stood frozen 

to the spot, my hair stood on end and 

my tongue stuck to the roof of my 

mouth. But as I stood there she began 

to address me thus. "Why are you 

indulging in this strange pleasure of 

frantic grief my darling husband? 

It is not without the will of Heaven 

that all these horrors have come to

pass. That you should carry your 

Creusa with you on your journey is 

forbidden by Father Zeus himself. 

You have long years of exile ahead of 

you and a vast expanse of ocean to 

traverse. Eventually (like a dragonfly) 

you will arrive in the land of Hesperia 

where a great river rolls gently 

through rich and cultured plains. 

There you have a smiling future. A 

kingdom of your own with a royal 

bride who even now awaits your 

coming. So dry your tears for me, my 

beloved, and although I am the 

choice of your heart, you can rest 

assured that I am not to be carried 

away as a slave to any part of the 

Argive empire. I will serve no 

Achaian matron for I am a Dardanian 

princess and by marriage, a daughter 

of Aphrodite who is immortal. No! I

am kept in this country by the will 

of Heaven and so you have no need 

to cry. Only continue to love the 

son who is both yours and mine." 

Having spoken thus, in spite of my 

tears and in spite of the thousand 

and one things I longed to say, the 

apparition began to vanish into the 

insubstantial air. Three times I tried 

to fling my arms around her neck 

and hold her to me, but three times the 

phantom, impalpable as the wind 

and fleeting as the wings of sleep, 

escaped the arms which struggled to 

embrace it. 

'After this I ceased searching for 

my beloved and, with a heart so 

heavy, I could barely carry its weight, 

I made my way back to the meeting 

place. By this time almost all 

resistance had ceased and the

Achaians were in control of our city, 

so I had some difficulty avoiding the 

men who now roamed the streets. 

But, with help from my mother or 

perhaps one of the other gods I 

managed to avoid being seen and 

make my way through a gate which 

was still unguarded before returning 

to the meeting point. When I arrived, 

I found to my surprise and joy that 

our band had swollen and we had a 

vast multitude of new companions; 

matrons and warriors both. Even in a 

darkness, lit only by the light of the 

stars and the flickering glow which 

emanated from the burning city, I 

could see that it was an army mustered 

for exile and a crowd of the wretched. 

From every side they had made their 

way to this spot and were prepared in 

heart as in fortune to follow me over

the sea to any land I might take them 

to settle. But, just as I returned to my 

band, the morning star was beginning 

to rise over Ida's loftiest peak and 

warned us of the coming dawn. 

Achaian guards had by this time been 

placed at all the city gates and so, as 

there was little hope of any one else 

escaping the ruins, I gathered up my 

father and led the way into the 

mountains.

Book III 

'As dawn began spreading her 

saffron fingers across the countryside 

and we made our way up the slopes 

of Mount Ida, I stopped frequently to 

look back at the smouldering ruin of 

Troy and the great pall of heavy 

black smoke which hung lazily above 

it. I couldn't understand why Father 

Zeus had decided to allow such a great 

city to fall headlong into the dust. 

There seemed to be no justice in it and 

my heart was heavy as I looked down 

on those once great walls which had 

been built by Poseidon himself. 

Even from the distance I could see 

the victorious Achaians hauling their 

booty down to their ships while the

wind, in snatches, carried the sound 

of their joy and laughter to where we 

stood. But for us there was nowhere 

to go and so we were obliged to allow 

ourselves be guided by heaven. With 

our great city gone in a single night, 

we had no option but to look for a 

new home in some place which was 

as yet unpeopled. Over the following 

months, the Achaians sailed away 

with their slaves and their booty and 

some of us went back to the ruined 

city to see what we could scavenge. 

The tools and other assorted odds 

and ends we gathered enabled us to 

build a fleet under the shadow of 

Antandros, which is a forested 

mountain in the range of Ida. But 

although we were all uncertain of our 

fate and where it might lead us, 

everyone agreed that there was no

point in trying to rebuild the city and 

that it would be better for all of us if 

we went in search of a new home. 

'There was no point in staying 

because even though the Achaians 

had gone, Troy was now a dangerous 

place as we Trojans weren't the only 

people who were picking through its 

ruins. Scavengers had arrived from 

far and wide and battles raged every 

day as men fought among themselves 

over even the most worthless of 

trinkets. But, as we constructed our 

fleet winter turned into spring and 

when early summer was upon us, my 

father bid us spread our sails and let 

destiny point the way. Our fleet had 

been completed and loaded with 

everything we had been able to rescue 

from the ruins and so, after one a last 

tearful look at my country's shores,

her harbours and those plains which 

the blackened ruins of Troy had once 

dominated, I gave the order to set sail. 

We were a band of vanquished people 

and so there was nothing for us to do 

but haul up the stones which 

anchored our ships and allow 

ourselves to drift out into the deep. 

'Not too far away was a land 

which was tilled by the Thracians 

and ruled over by Lycurgus, a king 

who held savage sway over his 

people. In the past he had been bound 

to Troy by ties of hospitality and so it 

was to here that I first decided to go 

and we began our search for a new 

home by sailing along the Thracian 

coastline in the hope of finding a place 

where we could commence building 

a new nation; the Anaeadae, after my 

own name.

'After we landed in a likely spot, 

I began by making a sacrifice to 

Father Zeus, my mother and the other 

gods and asking that they might bless 

the work I had begun. But just as I 

was getting ready to slay a bull of 

shining whiteness, I noticed a mound 

nearby. Its top was covered with 

plants of cornel and myrtle which 

bristled with spear like wands. I went 

up to this mound and, after a look 

around, tried to pull one of the smaller 

trees from the ground so that I 

might have a leafy shade for the altar 

I had built. But as I hauled on the 

stem I saw portent which was both 

dreadful and marvellous to tell. This 

first tree which I pulled from the 

ground began to bleed a thick black 

blood which stained the ground 

around my feet with gore. A

freezing shudder passed through my 

frame and chilled my blood with 

fright. But I wasn't deterred and so 

tried to pull a second tree from the 

ground and thus probe this mystery 

to the bottom. But as surely as the 

bark of the first tree bled black 

blood, the second did the same. 

After thinking the matter over I called 

on the nymphs of the wood and 

Gradivus, patron of the land of 

Thrace, and asked that they might 

duly turn the appearance to good and 

make the heavy omen light. But 

when I came to tear up a third tree, I 

strained with my feet against the sand 

and, ought I to tell the tale or hold my 

peace? As the tree began coming up 

from the ground I heard a lamentable 

groan from the bottom of the mound 

and the sound of a human voice

eached my ears. "Why, Anaeas, 

mangle a wretch like me?" It said. 

"Leave me in peace in my grave and 

spare those pious hands of yours. It 

is no alien's blood that is trickling 

from the stems of these trees. Ah! 

fly from this land of cruelty. Fly 

at once from this shore of greed. 

For I am Polydorus and here I lie, 

pierced through by a spear and buried 

under this shabby mound which now 

sprouts a growing crop of trees which 

look like sharp javelins." 

'I was overcome by terror and so 

aghast that my hair stood on end. I 

had known Polydorus and knew that 

after Hector's death, when King Priam 

had begun to despair of his city's 

safety, he had sent Polydorus to 

Thrace with a vast amount of gold 

for safe keeping. But then the

Achaians had raided Thrace and 

Lycurgus, instead of trying to defend 

his city, broke his ties with Troy and 

joined King Agamenmon. Lycurgus 

had obviously then murdered 

Polydorus and taken possession of the 

gold. He might even have shared 

it with the Achaians! Ah, curse the 

lust of gold! What will the heart of 

a man not do for it? However, after 

my cold shuddering had ceased I 

went and told my father of what had 

happened and asked for his advice. 

He, however, thought that before 

committing himself to a decision it 

would be better if he went and 

discussed the matter with the other 

elders. It was some time therefore, 

before he returned and when he did he 

informed me that the elders were 

all of the same mind. We should

depart immediately from the land of 

this crime because our future would 

best be served by leaving the home 

of violated friendship and risking 

our fleet in the gales which beckoned 

it. But before leaving we gave 

Polydorus a solemn funeral. We 

rebuilt his mound after which the 

daughters of Troy, their hair unbound 

in mourner fashion, offered bowls of 

new milk and dishes of consecrated 

meat to the gods so that his spirit 

might at last find peace. 

'As the water looked friendly and 

smooth, once the funeral rites had 

been completed we allowed the 

south's gentle breeze to once more 

waft us out to sea whereupon the 

crews hauled up the sails and the 

land began to disappear quickly into 

the horizon. But where were we to

go? I had heard of a sacred island 

which was the favourite of the mother 

of the Nereids and also of the gods 

of the Aegean. A long time ago it had 

drifted aimlessly through the other 

islands until one day the Heavenly 

Archer had moored it to the rocks of 

Mykonos and Gyaros and by doing 

so turned it into a fixed dwelling 

place which could at last laugh at the 

winds. After some thought, it was to 

there I decided to go as I knew it had 

a sheltered harbour which could give 

my crews some rest. When we landed 

on this island we began by 

worshipping at the temple of 

Apollo but then, to our surprise, 

King Anius, a king of men who was 

also a priest of Phoebus Apollo, 

came running down to the shore. He 

was an old friend of my father's and

so, after greeting us warmly, he 

begged us to enter his home and enjoy 

the hospitality of his house. 

But before leaving the temple 

which had been built of ancient 

stone I prayed. 'Give us, Lord of 

Thymbra, a home which we can call 

our own. We are a weary people and 

need a walled city which will be a 

home to us, our children and our 

children's children. Also keep from 

ruin the new Pergamos which will 

hold within it all that was left after 

the first was sacked by the Achaians. 

You, who are our guide, where would 

you have us go? I beg you to tell us. 

Where shall we build our new home? 

Give us a response, Great Father, 

and fill our needy souls with your 

munificence. 

'I had scarcely spoken these

words when there suddenly came a 

trembling upon the whole place. 

There was a stirring which shook the 

temple, the bay and even the mountain 

itself. We were all terrified by this 

event but, when the door of the shrine 

flew open of its own accord, we all 

prostrated ourselves on the ground 

and a voice wafted to our ears: "Sons 

of Dardanos, you must be strong and 

endure because the land which first 

gave you birth shall one day welcome 

you home and restore you to its 

fruitful bosom. Seek for that land, 

which is the mother of your race, 

until you find her, for there it is that 

the house of Anaeas shall set up 

a kingdom which shall become a 

ruler of nations." Thus spoke the 

voice of Phoebus Apollo and, when 

we recovered our wits, we all jumped

up in joy and excitedly asked each 

other what city he was speaking about 

and whether Phoebus was calling 

the wanderers and bidding them 

return. Then my father, in the 

tradition of men of old, pointed out to 

sea and cried "Listen! Survivors of 

Troy and learn where your hopes lie. 

Crete lies over there in the midst of 

the deep and is an island of Father 

Zeus. It is not too far from Mount Ida 

and so it is the cradle of our race. It 

is a realm of plenty and has a 

hundred cities. It was from there that 

our first father, Teucer, if I rightly 

recall what I have heard, came to the 

Rhoetean coast and fixed on the site 

of Ilios as his empire. The city of 

Troy had not yet been built and so, 

in the beginning, our people lived on 

the plains and in the mountains. Our

ancestors were dwellers on Mount 

Cybele and so let us follow to where 

the finger of heaven points. But first 

let us propitiate the winds with a 

sacrifice and make for the realm of 

Gnossus. The voyage is not long from 

here and if Father Zeus is with us, on 

the third day we will land our fleet on 

the Cretan shore." After this he 

arranged for a proper sacrifice to be 

made: a bull to Poseidon, a bull to 

Phoebus Apollo, a black lamb to 

Aeolus, king of the tempests and 

howling winds and a white one to 

Zephyr, lord of the friendly winds 

and gentle breezes. 

'Crete was the realm of King 

Idomeneus and so normally it would 

have been an island to avoid, but we 

knew that he and his people had 

been driven from their parental home

and that the whole island was 

abandoned. All the houses were 

empty and so there would be no 

enemy to receive us there. 

Consequently, after enjoying the 

hospitality of King Anius for many 

months, a time which was, perhaps, 

longer than it should have been, we 

left Ortygia's harbour and flew 

through seas which were thick with 

islands. We passed the mountains of 

Naxos, green Donysa, Olearos, and 

snowy Paros and, as we went, the men 

shouted with happiness as they 

struggled to make the ships run 

faster and each encouraged the 

other. "For Crete" they cried, "and 

our forefathers home!" A gentle wind 

from the stern helped us on our way 

and on the morning of the third day, 

the time honoured shore of Crete

hove into view. 

'After sailing around the island 

several times we eventually chose a 

site for our new home and began by 

raising the city walls. We called 

our new city Pergamia because a new 

nation should always be proud to 

bear the name of the old and, as we 

worked, I encouraged the people to 

love both hearth and home and also 

to build a citadel with a roof for our 

sacred belongings. The ships were 

hauled up onto the beach and, as there 

was no thought of sailing onwards, 

the people busied themselves with 

tilling the soil and getting married. 

But, one day, after many seasons, as 

the city was growing and I was 

appointing laws for the people to 

live by, there came upon the people 

a sickness which wasted their bodies

and also blighted the trees and crops. 

For a whole year there was nothing 

but death among us and men were 

either leaving the lives they loved or 

dragging bodies which burdened 

them wherever they went. Every plant 

was also sickening and would not 

yield its food and so eventually, my 

father told us to return to the oracle 

of Phoebus and beg for grace. He 

also told us to ask Phoebus what was 

in store for our over-toiled fortunes. 

But on the night before we set off 

for the oracle, when all living things 

were in the power of sleep and I 

myself reposed in the arms of 

slumber, I saw the sacred images 

which I had brought with me from 

blazing Troy standing before me in a 

flood of light where the full moon 

was streaming in through the

windows of my house. Then, bathed 

in this glorious light, they began to 

address me. "The answer," they said, 

"which Apollo is going to give you 

when you reach Ortygia, he delivers 

now. He has sent us to your very door 

for we have been the followers of your 

fortune since your sacred city sank in 

flames and have guided your fleet 

over the water. We are the ones who 

will raise the star of the posterity 

which will follow you and crown 

our city with imperial sway. It is 

your destiny to build mighty walls for 

mighty dwellers and you must not 

abandon the task because of the 

terrible hardships you face. You 

must change your settlement for it was 

not to this coast the oracle guided you. 

It was not in Crete that Apollo bade 

you rest. No, there is a place which

is known as Hesperia, a land with a 

long history and which is strong in 

both arms and in the fruitfulness of 

its soil. It is settled by the Oenotrians 

and is now called Italy after the name 

of one of its leaders. That is our true 

home for from there sprang Dardanos 

and father Iasius, the first founder of 

our line. So rise up now and tell of 

this glad tale to your aged father. Tell 

him he is to look for Corythus and 

the county of Ausonia as Father Zeus 

bars you from the fields of Dicte." 

I was astonished by the visions 

and voices from heaven, for sleep 

it was not. I had clearly seen their 

faces, their wreathed locks of hair and 

their heavenly features. But as I sat 

up in my bed I began to shiver and a 

cold sweat began trickling down my 

whole frame. But instead of giving in

to the fear which threatened to engulf 

me, I leapt from my bed and, lifting 

my upturned hands to heaven, I 

prayed and gave thanks for the 

message. 

'The prayer having been made I 

went to wake my father so I could 

inform him of what had happened 

and also give him the details; from 

first to last. After hearing me out he 

agreed with what the gods had said 

and admitted that he had been in 

error when he said the oracle had 

referred to the island of Crete. "My 

son," he then said, "who has suffered 

and learnt from the destiny of Troy, 

Kassandra's was the one voice which 

used to tell me of this. Now I recall 

that this was the fortune she spoke 

about as appointed for our line. She 

frequently said Hesperia was the land

of our future and sometimes even 

referred to it as the land of Italy. But 

in those days who would have 

believed that we could reach the 

Hesperian shore? Also, who ever 

believed anything Kassandra said? 

Remember when she told us what 

would happen if we brought the 

Argive horse into Troy? We all 

laughed and there were those who 

even jeered at her. But now let us 

give way to what Apollo has said 

and follow the new course." 

'The next day he put this proposal 

to the people and all were delighted 

with the idea of leaving our sickly 

settlement and so with joy, those of us 

who were strong enough, hauled the 

ships back into the water and loaded 

them with whatever we could. Then, 

as the healthy rowed and the ships

egan to nose their way out of the bay 

we had once hoped to make our 

home, I looked back and thought with 

sorrow of the dead we had left behind. 

Once clear of the bay a gentle breeze 

blew up and so, giving thanks to the 

Zephyrs, we raised our sails once 

more and began to fly over the marble 

sea. 'However, as soon as we had 

gained the deep water and there was 

no more land to be seen, there came 

a murky storm cloud which slowly 

darkened the sky above us. It wasn't 

long before the angry winds of King 

Aeolus fell upon us and, in their fury, 

began raising the seas to the heights 

of mountains. Lightening bolts from 

Father Zeus began flashing from the 

dark clouds which blotted out the 

light of day and also tried to sink our

ships by pouring endless amounts of 

water into them. The men, most of 

whom had been weakened by the 

sickness, were unable to keep the 

prow of their ships pointing into the 

wind and so we were at the mercy of 

the winds and waves and, such was 

the blackness which engulfed us, we 

lost all sense of direction and had no 

idea of to where we might be being 

blown. For three terrible days we 

were tossed about on the water and 

never was there a sight of the sun or 

a star to give us guidance. But on the 

fourth day, at last, we saw land on 

the horizon with mountains which 

breathed curling smoke from their 

tips. At this every man, no matter 

how sick he was, took his seat on 

the benches and picked up his oar 

and, straining every muscle, he

struggled to bring us through the 

swelling seas and into the shelter of 

the land. 

'When we finally found shelter in 

the lee of the mountains we realized 

we had been welcomed by the coast 

of an island which the Argives called 

Strophades and which is in the great 

Ionian chain. It was in this island that, 

ever since the doors of Phineus had 

been closed to them and they were 

driven from the home which once fed 

them, Calaeno and the rest of the 

Harpies had made their home. 

Never had Heaven sent the world a 

fiercer plague and in our despair, 

we wondered whether there could be 

a more unhappy portent than this, for 

the Harpies were birds with the face 

of a young maiden, but it was a 

horrid, pallid face which looked as if

it was forever starving. On top of this 

they had fierce crooked talons and 

their saliva emitted a foul smell which 

took a long time to dissipate. 

'Nevertheless, once we entered 

a sheltered bay we saw luxuriant 

herds of fat oxen grazing contentedly 

on the shore and well fed goats 

nibbling at the long grass. There was 

no one to tend them and so we 

immediately jumped ashore with 

some large knives in our hands and 

invited the gods and even Father Zeus 

himself to share in the coming feast. 

The creatures were very docile and 

so in a very short time we had piled 

a large number of slaughtered 

animals on the shore and entertained 

ourselves with joyful talk of the 

wonderful food we were about to eat. 

'But suddenly, with an appalling

screech, the Harpies swooped down 

on us from the hills. The wings of 

these dreadful birds made a terrible 

noise as they flapped around us and 

began tearing at the food we had been 

preparing and spoiling it with their 

filthy smells. But unwilling to do 

without the feast we had been 

looking forward to, once these birds 

had flown away we again set up the 

tables and lit the fires. But this time 

we set them up under a hollow rock 

which was protected by trees with 

plenty of crisp foliage. However, no 

sooner had we got the fire going and 

set up new altars for our libations 

when, out of their hidden lair, 

another flock of Harpies came rushing 

down on us. The trees and the rock 

were no shelter for us and they rushed 

around on this side and that grabbing

at our food with their hooked talons 

and tainting it with their loathsome 

saliva. This was too much and so as 

soon as this flock of birds had flown 

back to its lair I ordered my comrades 

to get their swords, shields and spears 

so that next time the birds attacked our 

food, we could cut them to pieces. 

So my men went back to the ships 

and came back with their weapons 

which they put down in the grass by 

where they stood and we began once 

again to get the food ready for 

cooking. But no sooner were we 

cutting up those carcasses which were 

still untainted when the Harpies 

attacked us again. This time, however, 

every man picked up his sword and 

shield and began slashing at the 

birds as they flew around our heads. 

But no matter how much we slashed

at them, our blades would not pierce 

the skin of these foul creatures, 

though they did take fright and, 

leaving much stinking, half eaten food 

behind, flew off into the sky. But one 

of them flew to the top of a high rock 

which was nearby and gave vent to 

human words. "What is this? War?" 

She cried in a shrill voice. "Are you 

going to make war on us for the sake 

of a few oxen? Are you trying to 

expel us blameless Harpies from our 

home? Take then into your minds 

these words of mine and print them 

there, sons of Dardanos. There is a 

prophecy which Almighty Zeus has 

imparted to Phoebus Apollo and 

Phoebus Apollo to me and I, the chief 

of the Harpies, now make known 

to you. For Italy, I know, you are 

crowding all sail. Well the winds shall

sometimes be at your call as you go 

and sometimes not. But in time, 

although you will be free to enter its 

harbours, you shall not build walls 

around your fated city until after you 

have suffered a great hunger for the 

murderous wrong you have just done 

us. Such will be your hunger that, in 

desperation, you will even gnaw at 

your tables." 

'Having said this she flapped her 

wings and rose quickly up into the 

sky and out of our sight. But for my 

comrades these words curdled the 

blood in their veins and their hearts 

failed them. "No more arms," cried 

a man called Alfred, "We sue for 

grace with vows and prayers, 

regardless of whether the creatures 

are goddesses or just loathsome 

birds." My father then turned his face

to the sea and spreading out his arms, 

he prayed out loud: "Great gods!" He 

cried. "Protect us from these menaces! 

Use your blessing as a shield and 

protect your worshippers from 

disaster." Then he told us to leave 

the all food we had gathered 

untouched, lift up the stones which 

anchored our ships and take our seats 

once more on the benches. 

Once clear of the dreadful island 

and in the open sea we found the 

fierce winds had abated and so we 

hoisted our sails and scudded along in 

front of a brisk, favourable breeze. 

But although we made good speed, 

to where we were headed we did not 

know. However, as we scudded 

along we saw in the distance the 

woods of Zacynthos, the islands of 

Dulichium and Samos and the tall

cliffs of Neritos. We then flew past 

the rocks of Ithica, the realm of 

Laertes and, as we did so, we 

breathed a curse on the land which 

had nursed the hard heart of Odysseus 

who, from what we had heard, had 

still not returned to his home. Those 

of us who had fought the Achaian foe 

on the plains of Ilios and in front of 

the Skaian gates were delighted with 

the news and there were more than a 

few who wished him dead. After 

Ithica came the storm capped peaks 

of Leucata which, because of the 

surrounding rocks, were a terror to 

sailors in bad weather. In our 

weariness, we made for this place 

anyway and, after entering the 

harbour of the little town which had 

been built into the hills overlooking 

the bay, we threw out our anchors and

let the tide turn our sterns out towards 

the wide sea. 

'Once we landed we made 

generous libations to Father Zeus and 

set the altars ablaze with our promises 

of the things we would do if only he 

would guide us safely to Italy. But 

immediately after this, as we were so 

relieved at having passed through the 

heart of our enemy in safety, we 

solemnised the shores of Actium by 

playing the native games of Troy. 

Besides a game of spicket, which 

everyone enjoyed, other men 

stripped, made their bodies slippery 

with olive oil, and practised the style 

of wrestling we had enjoyed in 

happier times. Then, after five days 

of much fun, we settled down on 

this land and decided that, for a while 

at least, it would be better if we

stayed. The mighty year rolled 

round and everybody's health 

improved. Spring turned into summer 

and summer into autumn. But when 

the icy winter arrived on winds from 

the north and made the seas rough, 

I took a shield of brass, once borne by 

the great Abas, and fastened it to 

the temple gate and solemnised my 

deed with these words: "These arms 

which were won from our Achaian 

conquerors are an offering from 

Anaeas." After this, despite the fact 

it was winter, I gave the word that it 

was time to take to the benches and 

depart from this heaven. 

'I could not fathom why I had 

done such a thing during winter but, 

as we drew out from our shelter, each 

man vied with his neighbour to sweep 

the marble surface with his polished

pine and drive the ships forward. In 

due course the airy summits of the 

Phaeacian land and the coast of 

Epirus sank into the horizon and we 

made our way towards the Chaonian 

haven, where stood Buthrotum's lofty 

tower. 

'However, when we arrived in 

Chaonia we heard a rumour of events 

which defied belief. Helenus, son of 

King Priam, was reigning in an 

Argive city! He had gained the right 

to wear the crown of Neoptolemos, 

son of Achilles, and by all accounts 

had also married Andromache. That 

Andromache had been given again to 

a husband of her own nation was 

astonishing in itself, for I could not 

forget the last time I had seen her in 

King Priam's palace; shaking with 

fear and cradling little Astyanax in her

arms. At this news, which to be 

honest, I really didn't believe, my 

heart burned with a longing to find out 

more and, if what we had heard was 

true, learn all about this wondrous 

stroke of fortune. 

'Leaving the fleet in its harbour I 

climbed the hills and went into the 

country at the very time Andromache 

had gone to the grove in which had 

been built a small stream to 

remember the Simois. She was 

celebrating a yearly banquet in which 

she tried to comfort the dead by 

invoking the memory of her Prince 

Hector in a tomb named after him. 

It was only an empty mound of green 

turf, but in this secluded grove she had 

consecrated two altars to her first 

husband so she might have the 

privilege of weeping in private.

However, as soon as she saw me 

approaching dressed in the armour 

of Troy, she jumped up in terror and 

gave a piercing scream. Standing 

rooted to the spot she stared at me in 

silence while all the colour drained 

from her cheeks. Then she fainted. 

Despite all the help I tried to give, it 

was some time before she recovered 

her wits and was able to get back on 

her feet again. "Is it a real face that I 

see?" she cried, "Are those real lips 

which might bring me some news? 

Goddess-born, are you still among 

the living? If the blessed light has 

left you and you are but a vision of 

one who now resides in Hades' Halls, 

speak and tell me of my Hector?" As 

she spoke tears began flowing freely 

down her cheeks and the grove was 

filled with the sound of her sobs.

Such were my feelings it was almost 

impossible to answer her question, 

though eventually I managed to 

address her in broken and confused 

words. "Aye," I said. "Your eyes 

do not deceive you. I live, sure 

enough, and though I have been 

through the worst of fortunes, I am 

still hanging on to life. But what has 

happened to you who has fallen from 

the heights on which your first 

husband enthroned you? What smile 

has fortune got which is warm enough 

to brighten the life of Prince Hector's 

Andromache? Is it Neoptolemos' bed 

you are tending?" 

'At this she dropped her eyes and 

spoke with bated breath. "Oh, blessed 

be your coming." She said. "But 

blessed also be those daughters of 

Dardanos who were bidden to die

under Troy's lofty walls at the hands 

of their foe. They were not taken 

captive so they never became slaves 

and never had to serve the bed of 

their conqueror. But we, after the 

sacking of our city, were carried over 

the sea and none of us has stopped 

scorning the youthful insolence of 

Neoptolemos and his friends. I, the 

slave mother of his child most of all. 

But not too long after the fall of Troy 

he went in quest of an alliance with 

Sparta and, having tired of me, he 

gave me over to Helenos. A slave 

woman to be the mate of a slave! 

However, fired by a desperate passion 

for a ravished bride and maddened 

by the frenzied fiend of crime, 

Helenos surprised Neoptolemos at the 

altar which was dedicated to his father 

and slew him. Then, at Neoptolemos'

death, a portion of this kingdom 

passed to Helenos and he called the 

fields Chaonian and the land itself 

Chaonia, from Chaon, their Trojan 

namesake. He also crowned these 

heights, as you will see, with a new 

Pergamos. But what of you? What 

wind has shaped your destiny? What 

god has driven you to a coast which 

you knew not to be ours? What of 

your wife Cruesa? What of your 

boy Ascanius? Is he alive? Being as 

he is a son of Anaeas and a close 

relative of Hector's, does he yearn for 

the valour of the old days?" 

'Such were her sorrows that as the 

questions poured from her lips she 

was unable to stop crying. But just at 

that moment, King Priam's noble son, 

Helenos, arrived from the city with a 

train of followers and such was his

delight at seeing his old friend again 

that, as soon as he had sent 

messengers to the ships with an 

invitation for all to come to his city, 

he took me straight to his home with 

many a tear interrupting the words 

which gushed from his lips. 

Approaching his city I recognised 

a miniature Troy with a Pergamos, 

a dry rivulet which had been made in 

memory of the Skamandros and, 

when we arrived at the walled city, I 

threw my arms round a replica of 

the Skaian gate and could not stop 

my tears. My Trojan comrades, when 

they arrived, also broke into tears 

when they saw this new Troy. But 

then the king bade us welcome and 

entertained us with a feast of meat, 

bread and other delicacies served on 

golden dishes and fine wine in golden,

jewel-encrusted goblets from which 

we did not hesitate to make copious 

libations to Father Zeus and the other 

heavenly gods. 

However, as the months passed 

quickly by, the breeze kept inviting 

us to set sail again and so one day I 

accosted Helenos, who was also a 

prophet, with these words. "True 

Trojan born and interpreter of 

heaven's will, whom the gods have 

allowed to see things written in the 

stars, understand the tongue of birds 

and also read the omens as they fly 

overhead, I must tell you that the 

augurs have spoken in auspicious 

words regarding the whole of my 

voyage and all the gods, with one 

voice, have urged me to make for 

Italy. Only one, Calaeno the Harpy, 

forebodes a strange future which is

horrible to tell for she cursed us with 

a fierce hunger before we can build 

our city. But tell me then, what 

perils must I avoid and what 

tremendous hardships must I prepare 

myself for?" 

'At this Helenos took me by the 

arm and led me to the temple of 

Phoebus Apollo. He began by 

imploring the favours of heaven with 

the sacrifice of several bullocks and 

then, taking his place at the altar, he 

sank his head into his chest for a 

considerable while before raising 

his eyes to heaven and beginning 

to speak with a voice not his own. 

'"Goddess-born," he said in a 

deep but strange voice. "that mighty 

blessings are upon you is clear 

beyond doubt, but I can only tell 

you a few things which might make

your journey through unknown 

waters safer. My speech is limited 

because Hera, the Queen of Heaven, 

forbids me from saying more. But first 

I will speak of Italy, which you think 

is close at hand and are ready, in your 

blindness, to rush to as quickly as you 

can. But before you can build a city 

in Italy your ships must first traverse 

the expanse of the Trinacrian 

waters, the Ausonian brine and the 

spectral lake. You must also visit the 

land of Aeaean Circe. You will 

know when it is time to begin building 

your city because you will see under 

an oak tree on the banks of a great 

river, an enormous swine which is as 

white a snow with a litter of thirty 

new born babes around her breasts; 

all as white as she is. That shall be 

the time and site for your city and

your assured rest from toil and 

trouble. Nor need you shudder at 

the prospect of gnawing your tables 

before you start to build your walls 

for Apollo will answer your prayers 

and find you a path. But as for the 

line of the Italian coast and those 

islands which lie close by and are 

washed by the spray of our waters, 

from these you must fly. Most of the 

cities are peopled by our Argive 

enemies for it is here that King 

Idomeneus and his people, who have 

fled from Crete, have built new cities 

and now cultivate the Sallentine 

fields. Further, when your fleet stands 

moored in a bay and you build altars 

on the land so you can make your 

vows, always shroud your head with 

a purple robe, lest while the hallowed 

fires are blazing and your worship of

the gods is yet unfinished, some 

enemy's eye might meet yours and 

make the omens void. This ritual 

must be maintained by both you and 

your comrades and also by the 

children who are to follow you. But 

after you bypass Italy and are carried 

by the wind near the Sicilian coast 

and the narrow way of Pelorus is 

dimly open to you, make for the 

left shore and avoid the right. This 

whole region was changed many 

centuries ago by a mighty convulsion. 

Legend has it that whereas there was 

once only a single country, now there 

are two as the sea rushed in and cut 

off the Hesperian land from the 

Sicilian. It was a time of great 

destruction as many great cities full 

of people were washed away by the 

raging waters. The seaboards of these

two countries are now parted by this 

narrow channel and the right hand 

coast is held by Scylla, while the left 

is held by the ever hungering 

Charybdis who, thrice a day, draws 

the huge waves down her precipitous 

throat and into her stomach and then, 

in turn, she lifts the water up to the 

sky so they lash the stars with their 

spray. But Scylla is confined in the 

deep recesses of a cave from whence 

she thrusts out her mouths and tries 

to drag vessels onto her rocks. At 

her top is the face of a maiden with 

beauteous bosom while at bottom 

there is an enormous, evil looking 

sea-monster. Better by far to take 

your chances with Charybdis for once 

you have been seen by the monster 

Scylla, you will not be able to stop 

yourself being dragged onto her rocks.

Moreover, if you give any credence 

to the tongue to which you now listen, 

if you look on these words as 

Apollo's truth, there is one thing, 

goddess-born, one thing which 

outweighs everything else and of this 

I will warn you again and again. 

When you build your altars, you must 

worship Hera the Queen of Heaven 

and chant your prayers to her because 

if you subdue that mighty empress 

by suppliant offerings, you will 

eventually leave Trinacria behind and 

be sped to the borders of Italy. But 

remember that she now prefers to 

called Juno and using this name 

when praying to her will always melt 

her heart, even if only for a little 

while. However, when you reach the 

city of Cumae which is near the 

haunted lake and the woods which

ustle over Avernus, you must visit 

the frenzied prophetess. She lives in 

her cavern under a rock and chants 

her fateful prophesies. All these she 

writes on the leaves of a tree and then 

she arranges them in order and shuts 

them up in her cave. They remain as 

she has left them until the door of the 

cave is opened and a breath of air 

moves the leaves and throws them 

into disarray. But she never bothers to 

try and catch them as they fly about 

the cavern or restore them to their 

original positions, so the prophesy is 

lost. Because of this inquirers always 

retire with their doubts unsolved and 

hearts which store an undying hatred 

for this woman. Nevertheless, when 

you arrive, you must visit her 

immediately and insist that she herself 

chants the oracle and lets her words

flow like waters which cascade over 

a waterfall. Do not let anyone 

dissuade you from visiting her or 

encourage you to sail with a fair 

wind before you have done so because 

she shall tell you of the nations of 

Italy, the wars of the future and the 

way to avoid peril or meet it head on 

and defeat it. Such are the counsels 

I am allowed to give you and so now 

you must go on your way and, by 

your own actions, return to the heights 

the greatness of Troy." 

'As soon as our seer had finished 

uttering these words of kindness he 

returned to his normal self again and 

ordered gifts of gold, silver and 

carved ivory to be carried on board 

our ships. Also cauldrons of Dodona, 

a cuirass of chain mail made out of 

gold and a splendid helmet with a

cone and flowing crest which had 

once been owned by Neoptolemos 

and before him, by his father 

Achilles. To my father he gave two 

horses and also the loan of a guide 

who knew the local waters. But 

although my father was greatly 

touched by this generosity, he was 

anxious not to wear out the patience 

of a fair wind and so gave the word 

to rig the fleet for sail. Before we 

left, Helenos, the interpreter of 

Phoebus, addressed him regally: 

"Anchises," he said, "graced with the 

privilege of Aphrodite's love and in 

the special care of the gods who 

twice tried to save the Pergamos 

from fall: Look! There lies Ausonia's 

land and for this you should make all 

sail. But the first part of this coast 

you must avoid for it has many

dangers and it is on the other side 

that the part of Ausonia which 

Apollo revealed to you lies. Go on 

your way and give thanks to the gods 

for blessing you with a son so 

duteous! Now don't let me delay 

you with my talk and give the gales 

a chance to rise." At this 

Andromache, saddened with grief by 

the parting, presented little Ascanius 

with robes embroidered with pictures 

woven in gold and a Phrygian scarf. 

In fact she could not give him enough 

and, after loading his little arms with 

gifts of fine needle work, she spoke 

thus: "Take these, dear boy, to be a 

memorial of what my hands can do. 

They are a token of my affection. 

Yes," she said thrusting even more 

gifts into his overloaded arms, "take 

these presents as well as they are the

last which your kin can bestow on 

you. Oh, sole surviving image of my 

own little Astyanax! Your eyes are 

his eyes, your hands are his hands and 

your face is his face. Ah, if only he 

was in bloom and growing to 

manhood by your side!" 

As she finished speaking she 

began to shed copious tears and I 

addressed my parting words to the 

royal pair: "Live long and prosper as 

those for whom the book of Fortune 

is closed should. You have won your 

rest and have no expanse of sea to 

cross and no Ausonian mysteries to 

chase. Your eyes can happily look 

on replicas of the old Skamandros, 

the Pergamos and the Skaian Gate 

which your own hands have made. 

Made, I hope and pray, with happier 

auspices and less chance of a visit

from an enemy like the Achaians! If 

ever the day arrives when I enter the 

River Tiber and look on the land 

which Fate has made over to my 

people, then we will be two kindred 

cities. Two fraternal nations. One in 

Epirus and the other in Hesperia, 

both with a common founder; 

Dardanos, and a common history 

and both animated by one heart until 

at last they become one Troy." 

'After this we set sail and 

passed under Ceraunia's neighbouring 

range whence there is a way to Italy, 

the shortest course through the water. 

But there was little wind and so we 

were forced to take to the benches. 

It was a tiring day and so as the sun 

began to sink into Ocean and the 

mountains became veiled in shadow, 

we made for a beach and stretched

ourselves luxuriously on the earth 

while the relentless crashing of the 

waves on the sand lulled us gently 

to sleep. But as sleep comforted our 

weary limbs and the early morning 

approached, Palinurus, with no 

thought of sloth, sprang from his bed 

and studied the feel of the wind. He 

also noted the stars as they swam 

through the silent sky and paid 

particular attention to Areturus, the 

showery Hades, the twin bears and 

Orion in his panoply of gold. When 

he saw them all shining in a heaven 

of calm he woke us up and, after 

climbing aboard our ships once more, 

as the wind had freshened, we spread 

our sails and continued on our way. 

But as the prows of our ships cut a 

path through the water once more, the 

stars began to fade and dawn spread

her warming fingers across the sea 

when suddenly, in the distance we 

saw the dim hills and low plains of 

Italy. "Italy!" Achates was the first 

to cry. "Italy!" shouted the crews 

with joy. At these joyful cries my 

father filled a golden cup with wine 

and, standing on the stern, made a 

generous libation while praying to 

the gods. "Ye powers who live in 

heaven," he cried, "and who rule the 

sea, land and weather; breathe 

auspiciously on us and give us a fair 

wind and smooth passage." 

Almost immediately the breeze 

intensified and, as the land came 

nearer, we were able to make out the 

temple of Minerva on its rocky 

heights. The bay itself was curved into 

an arch with a narrow mouth which 

had a barrier of cliffs on each side

against which crashed mighty waves. 

Seeing this my father ordered the men 

to furl the sails and take to the 

benches once more. Once through the 

narrow mouth, the calmer waters of 

the bay welcomed our ships and we 

saw the temple itself set back some 

way from the shore. However, as we 

rowed towards the beach we could see 

four snowy white horses grazing in 

the grass by the shore and seeing these 

my father spoke out: "Trouble is 

likely for strangers here because those 

are horses of war. You can see they 

have been trained to wear a harness 

and pull a chariot. Yes!" He cried, 

"But one day there might be a hope 

of peace as well." With that he urged 

us to make haste and so we quickly 

built an altar on the shore and made 

our prayers to the sacred majesty of

Pallas Athene, Queen of the Clanging 

Arms and the first to welcome us in 

this, the hour of our joy. But then, 

in deference to the order which 

Helenos had so earnestly impressed 

on us, we prayed to Juno, sister and 

consort of Zeus and Queen of 

Heaven. But as soon as our prayers 

were finished and without delaying 

for a moment, we returned to our 

ships because we dared not stay in a 

land we could not trust. As soon as 

we reached the open sea once more 

we hoisted our sails to the breeze 

and after many days our next sight of 

land was the bay of Tarentum and 

the city, which if the legend is true, 

was the city of Herakles. After that we 

passed Lacinium and the rocky 

towers of Caulon and Scylaceum; the 

two wreckers of ships. Then as we

approached the narrow way of Pelorus 

we saw Trinacrian Aetna in the 

distance and also heard the voice of 

the sea as it crashed furiously upon 

the nearby rocks. As we got closer 

to these narrows we began to fear the 

anger and turmoil of the waters and 

my father called for caution. "No 

doubt," he called out loudly, "this is 

the Charybdis and just ahead are the 

cliffs and frightful rocks of Helenos' 

song. Snatch us from them, 

comrades, and pull on your oars as 

one man." The crew, realising the 

danger, responded with a will and 

Palinurus was the first to turn his 

splashing prow towards the left and 

then the whole fleet followed suit with 

the polished pine of every oar dipping 

into the water as if they were one. 

But such was the raging of the sea that

we went up on the back of a wave 

as if we were being lifted up to stars 

and then suddenly, we fell down 

again as the water beneath us 

disappeared and we felt as if we were 

falling into the deepest regions of 

Hades' Halls. How many times this 

happened I cannot recall but each 

time the crashing of the waves on the 

rocks nearby shouted in our ears and 

spoke of their hunger for the wood of 

our ships. We rowed with all the 

energy we could and the foam which 

was splashed up from the rocks 

drenched us with so much spray, it 

became almost impossible to see 

where we where headed. Fear kept 

us heaving on our oars and very 

gradually we began to leave the 

greatest part of the danger behind and 

the turmoil of the water subsided into

fierce swell. But then, just as we 

had left this danger behind, the wind 

dropped and we were all so tired and 

spent, we allowed ourselves, in our 

ignorance, to drift to the land of the 

Cyclops. 

There it was, straight ahead a 

calm bay which, to our relief, 

sheltered us from both the wind and 

the waves. Once inside we became 

aware of Aetna thundering ominously 

and sending up to the sky a black 

cloud of soot, balls of fire and 

glowing ashes which seemed to lick 

the stars themselves. Then, almost 

immediately after, Aetna threw up 

rocks which had once been buried in 

the deepest part of the mountain's 

bowels. The legend is that the body 

of Enceladus is being kept down by 

the mighty bulk and weight of Aetna

and so he breathes out penal fire 

through channels inside the mountain 

and, as he shifts from side to side 

in his weariness, all Trinacria quakes 

and groans. But that night, as we 

sheltered in the woods on the shore 

of that calm and inviting bay, we 

endured a visitation of monstrous 

portents which we could hear but not 

see because of the cloud of soot and 

ash which hung over the island and 

imprisoned both the stars and the 

moon. 

'In the morning, just as dawn was 

trying to force its way through the 

blackness and we were getting ready 

for our breakfast, from out of the 

woods came the strange figure of a 

man in terrible disarray and who had 

obviously had little or nothing to eat 

for a long time. He stretched out his

wasted, bony arms in supplication 

towards our ships, but, as we looked 

at him, his very sight was enough to 

make us shudder. His filthy beard 

trailed almost down to his feet and his 

emancipated body was covered by a 

tattered rag which was fastened at his 

breast with thorns. The rest of him, 

however, suggested an Argive who 

had once been to Troy with the 

army of his nation. But when he 

looked from the ships to those of us 

who were gathered on the beach and 

saw the armour and insignias of 

Troy, he faltered and began to draw 

back into the woods. But then he 

checked his steps and staggered 

towards us crying loudly: "By the 

stars and the powers above. By the 

blessed light of heaven and the air we 

breath; I beg you to take me with

you and carry me to wherever you 

will. T'will be enough! I know I was 

one of King Agamenmon's men and 

that I carried war into your Trojan 

homes, but if you look upon my crime 

as being so black, chop me into pieces 

and fling me piecemeal to the waves 

or else drown me in the sea for, if I 

am to die, there will be pleasure in 

dying at the hands of men." His 

speech over he fell to the ground 

and grasped my ankles in 

supplication. However, I spoke gently 

to him and encouraged him to tell us 

who he was and why fortune had 

made him its sport. Then my father, 

Anchises, after no long pause, gave 

the man his hand and promised we 

would not kill him. 

'Once he realized he would not 

be killed by his enemy the wretch

gained some confidence and 

clambered slowly to his feet. "I come 

from Ithica," he said in a weak and 

timid voice, "and was a comrade of 

Odysseus. My name is Achemenides 

and I joined the expedition to Troy 

because my father, Adamastus, was 

extremely poor. Ah, would that his 

lot had remained mine! Here, in 

our hurry to leave the slaughterhouse, 

I tripped and my comrades, 

thinking only of themselves, left me 

behind in the Cyclops' enormous den. 

Deep, dark and huge, it is a house of 

gore and bloody feasting. Its one-eyed 

master is so tall he strikes the stars 

with his head and is one on whom 

no eye can rest with pleasure and no 

tongue would dare accost. The flesh 

and blood of unfortunate men are the 

food he most enjoys. These eyes of

mine have seen him catch two men 

from our company in his great hand 

and, after smashing their heads 

against a rock, he began to munch 

contentedly on their bodies while 

their blood and entrails dribbled 

down his chin. But as he was 

crunching their limbs and the warm 

joints of their flesh were quivering 

between his teeth, he wiped the gore 

from his chin with the back of one 

hand and, with that great eye of his, 

watched us cowering in front of him. 

It seemed to me as if he was trying 

to decide on which of us he would 

most like to eat next. But his feasting 

on our men did not go unpunished 

because Odysseus was not a man to 

brook a deed like this. When the 

need was so great, the brain of Ithaca 

was not found wanting and so, as

soon as the Cyclops had gorged 

himself with the flesh of our men and 

addled his brain with wine, he 

flopped on the ground and spread 

himself, in unmeasured length, along 

the floor. But while he was sleeping 

and belching gore and gobbets of 

flesh mixed with bloody wine, 

under Odysseus' orders, we began by 

making our prayers to the gods and 

then, taking our places as arranged by 

the drawing of lots, we surrounded 

him on all sides and, with a pole 

which had been sharpened and 

heated in the fire, we gouged out his 

only eye. By blinding that enormous 

eye we at last took vengeance for 

our comrades' death and because of 

the monster's blindness and terrible 

pain, Odysseus was able to trick him 

into opening the door of his cave and

all but me were able to escape. But 

fly, unhappy men of Troy! Take to 

your ships and fly! For hideous and 

huge though Polyphemus is, there are 

a hundred others who dwell here 

along the coast and every one is just 

as hideous and huge. Monstrous 

Cyclops, who love the taste of human 

flesh, stalk the mountains everywhere 

you go. I have lost track of time 

since I got left behind but have been 

surviving in the woods along with the 

beasts and watching the huge Cyclops 

as they leap from rock to rock. The 

earth trembles at their tread and also 

at the sound of their voices. I have 

only managed to stay alive by eating 

the miserable berries and stony 

cornels which I picked from the 

boughs of trees. But last night, just 

as darkness was falling, I saw this

fleet of yours advancing on the shore 

and felt my chances of being rescued 

by you would be better if I waited till 

morning's light. I did not know you 

were Trojans but will accept whatever 

fate you wish for me because it will 

have been enough to have escaped this 

race of monsters. Take me from this 

island and you are free to dispose of 

my life in whichever you please." 

'Scarce had he finished speaking 

when on the mountain we saw one of 

the giants moving along with his 

enormous bulk and making for a part 

of the shore which was quite close to 

were we were standing. He was both 

hideous and huge and, as he 

approached, we could see a hole in 

the top of his face where his eye had 

once been and knew this was the very 

beast which gorged himself on

Odysseus' men. In his hand he held 

a pine tree he had pulled from the 

ground to help him around obstacles 

and also to steady his footsteps and, 

at his heels, baahing noisily, walked 

his woolly sheep who, in his 

suffering, were his only solace. In our 

horror at what we were seeing we 

stood frozen to the spot and watched 

as he waded out into the sea and 

scooped some water into his hand. 

Then, groaning and gnashing his teeth 

with the pain, he carefully tried to 

wash away the gore which trickled 

from the hole where his eye had once 

been. But far out into the sea though 

he waded, the water barely reached 

his waist and we, in alarm at this 

terrible sight, gathered up our 

belongings and hastened to depart the 

dreadful shore.

By what we had seen we knew 

our suppliant had not lied and so, 

as quietly as we could, we hoisted 

our sails to catch whatever breeze 

they could and, taking our seats on 

the benches, we began to heave on 

our oars with a will. The monster, 

however, sensed that something was 

amiss on the water and, turning his 

steps in our direction, began reaching 

out with his hands to see if he could 

touch what he was hearing. But 

enraged by his inability to see he 

raised a gigantic roar at which the 

sea began to tremble, the land 

shuddered and Aetna was prompted 

to throw another cloud of ash and 

molten rock into the sky. At his cry a 

large number of other Cyclops, 

startled from the woods and lofty 

mountaintops, rushed down to the

each to see what was happening. 

There they stood, the crowd of them, 

each with chin, mouth, nose and 

cheeks topped by a single, terrible 

eye, looking at our ships as they 

slowly began to make their way from 

the shore. At this point we had not 

travelled any distance from the beach 

and so they bent down and, picking 

up rocks from the sand, began hurling 

them at our ships. At first it was only 

small rocks they threw but even still, 

some of those which landed in our 

ships badly injured three of our 

crewmen. Each of the Cyclops then 

rushed to the edge of the forest and 

picked up a rock which was so large, 

no three normal men could lift it, and, 

after bringing it back to the water's 

edge, they hurled them at our ships. 

We were still within range and so our

oats were rocked by the enormous 

waves created by these rocks which 

plunged into the water alongside us. 

But two ships, both on their left side, 

were caught by rocks which shattered 

most of the oars and they 

immediately lost headway and began 

to spin in a circle. At this three of 

the Cyclops rushed out into the water 

with the obvious intention of catching 

the ships and dragging them back to 

the shore. I watched in horror as 

these two ships fell behind the rest 

of our fleet but dared not go back to 

help them. Moving with all the speed 

they could, the enormous Cyclops 

forced their way through the water 

while the captains of the ships 

desperately ordered half of the men on 

right side to bring in their oars and 

deploy them on the left. This the men

managed to do but although both 

ships eventually began to make 

headway again, they were far too 

slow for the Cyclops who continued 

to gain on them. I was mad with 

terror and at a loss to know what to 

do because I could see no possible 

way the ships could escape. I also 

knew that once a giant Cyclops had 

got a hold of a stern, they would drag 

the ship back to the shore and the 

whole group would then spend the 

rest of the day feasting on the flesh of 

my comrades. But, just as the two 

leading Cyclops were about to reach 

out and grasp the sterns of the vessels 

they were chasing, a brisk wind 

sprang up and carried the ships out of 

their reach. With a mighty roar both 

the Cyclops lunged forward and made 

a desperate grab for the sterns, but

the wind and the oars kept the ships 

moving forward and out of their 

reach. At this narrow escape my 

heart soared up to the heavens and I 

ordered everyone to slow down and 

let the two ships catch us up. But as 

they came abreast both ships refused 

to stop and I could see the men, their 

faces white with terror, heaving on 

their oars with all their might and 

refusing to rest or look either to the 

right or the left; even though they 

were now safely out of the Cyclops' 

reach. 

'When our fleet reached the open 

sea again our sails were filled by the 

strong wind which rushed from 

Pelorus' narrow way and we flew 

along past Pantagia's mouth of living 

rock, the bay of Megara and low 

lying Thapsus. Each place we passed

eing named for us by Achemenides 

who remembered them from his 

wanderings with Odysseus. 

'Stretched before the Sicanian 

bay and next to Plemyrium the 

billowy lies the island of Elis which 

was previously known as Ortygia. 

The legend is that Alpheus, the river 

of Elis, made himself a sacred 

passage under the sea and now, 

through the mouth of Arethusa, 

blends himself with the waters of 

Sicily. 

'We stopped here to rest for a 

while and worship the gods before 

sailing on past the over-rich soil of 

Helorus the marshy. Sailing on we 

skirted the tall crags and jutting rocks 

of Pachynus and in the distance we 

could see Camarina: a land which the 

oracle has ordered no man to disturb.

We also passed the mighty city of 

Gela and next came the craggy heights 

of Acragas where the people had once 

bred mighty steeds. Here too, after 

stopping for a while to build altars 

and pray to the gods, we departed 

with a favourable wind and picked 

our way through the sunken rocks 

which make Lilybeium's waters 

perilous. After stopping in Sicily for 

a while so we could spend time with 

our friends, we arrived at Drepanum 

with its haven of calm waters. But it 

was here, after all the dangers we 

had faced, that the worst possible 

thing happened. Woe was me! I lost 

Anchises, my father. The greatest of 

sires and the man who had guided me 

through every care and danger and 

also made them light, left his weary 

son alone. We had stopped to camp

on the beach and rest our weary limbs 

but when I rose the next morning I 

was surprised to find that he was not 

already up. However, when I went to 

where he usually slept I was aghast 

to find all life had left his limbs. 

Among the thousand horrors 

Helenos foretold, he did not warn me 

of this; the worst of them all! No, not 

even the dreadful Calaeno spoke of 

such a dreadful thing. Of all I had 

endured, this was the greatest 

calamity. But it was also the last 

because after giving my father a 

proper funeral and building him a 

mound, we left that land of sorrow 

and shortly afterwards were caught up 

in the storm of King Aeolus and 

driven here, Oh gracious Queen, onto 

your coast.' 

Here, Anaeas, alone and

surrounded by dark shadows because 

the servants had also become caught 

up in the story and had allowed fires 

to die, finished recounting the tale of 

his voyages and was silent at last.

Book IV 

Queen Dido, long since pierced by 

Cupid's cruel shaft, was wasting away 

under a hidden fire. Many times she 

thought of the great hero's worth and 

the glory of his race. His every look 

remained imprinted on her heart and 

his every word stayed in her mind 

and so, when the gathering at last 

retired to bed, the passion which 

burned in her breast refused to give 

soothing sleep a chance to work upon 

her frame. 

The next day when saffron dawn 

was lighting the countryside with her 

torch and had already sent the dark 

shadows scurrying off into the 

western gloom, the queen, sick of

soul, went in search of the sister 

in whom she always confided. 'Anna, 

my sister,' she cried when she finally 

found her, 'what feelings are these 

which confound and appal me? Who 

is this new guest who has visited our 

shores? How beautiful he is! What 

carriage and what strength of chest 

and shoulders! Even if an ignoble soul 

is known by its tendency to brag, I do 

believe it when he says he has the 

blood of a goddess in his veins. Ah! 

what terrible times he has had and 

what terrible wars he has had to fight! 

Were it not the fixed and immovable 

purpose of my mind to never join 

myself with another in wedlock, since 

my first love played me false and 

made me the dupe of death, I might 

have stooped to this one reproach. 

Anna, for I will tell you the truth,

since the day my poor husband, 

Sychaeus, was murdered by my 

brother, Anaeas is the only man 

who has been able to touch my heart 

and shake my resolve to its 

foundations. I recognise the feelings 

of love but first I would pray that 

the earth swallowed me up or that all 

powerful Zeus hurled me, thunder 

stricken, into the darkness of Hades' 

Halls before I violated my woman's 

honour or undid the bonds which 

my husband tied. He was the man who 

wedded me first and carried off my 

heart and so, even if he is in his grave, 

he should keep it for himself.' 

Having at last spoken of her 

feelings Queen Dido couldn't help but 

burst into tears and hug her sister for 

comfort. 

'Sweet love,' Anna replied, 'who

is dearer to me than even the light 

of day itself, are you to pine and 

grieve in loneliness for the rest of 

your life and know nothing more of 

love or a mother's joy in her children? 

Do you think your dead husband 

would take these feelings of your's 

amiss? Since he died no man has 

touched your heart, neither in Tyre or 

here in Libya. Even though many 

chieftains, some of whom are 

extremely powerful, have asked you 

to marry them, you have rejected 

them all. You have even slighted 

King Iarbas with a rejection. But 

although it is right for you to fight 

against an unwelcome passion, 

would you fight against a welcome 

one? Have you forgotten in whose 

territories we have settled? On one 

side are the cities of the Gaetulians

who are invincible in war and also 

the Numidians and inhospitable 

Syrtisians. On the other is a region 

unpeopled because of the desert 

and the widespread barbarism of the 

people from Barce. And is there any 

need to talk about the war cloud which 

threatens from our brother's city? It 

is under the auspices of Heaven and 

with Juno's blessings that the vessels 

from Troy have arrived here. What 

kind of city, my sister, would ours 

become and what kind of empire 

would grow from a marriage like 

this? With the experienced warriors 

of Troy at our back, to what heights 

would the glory of Carthage not soar? 

You must implore the favour of 

Heaven and when you win it, give 

free hospitality to the Trojans and 

weave a web of excuses so that they

will delay while the tempest is raging 

on the sea and Orion, the star of 

rain, is high in the sky. Also, bid 

Anaeas wait until his battered ships 

are fully repaired.' 

By these words Anna added 

fresh fuel to the fire of love which 

burned in Dido's breast and also, by 

giving confidence to her wavering 

mind, she loosened the ties of Dido's 

womanly honour. 

The first thing the two women 

did was to approach the temples 

and, going from altar to altar, they 

asked for pardon. They also 

slaughtered fine sheep to Ceres the 

lawgiver, Phoebus Apollo and father 

Lyaeus. Above all they prayed to 

Juno, Queen of Heaven, who had 

the marriage bonds in her care. At 

Juno's altar Dido herself, in all her

eauty, took a golden goblet full of 

wine and emptied it between the 

horns of a gleaming white heifer 

before cutting open its breast and 

consulting the entrails which still 

quivered with life. 

But alas, alas! How blind are the 

eyes of those who would attempt to 

be seers? What can vows or temples 

do for the madness of love? The 

passion was eating away at the very 

marrow of Dido's bones and deep in 

her breast, the wound refused to heal. 

She was on fire, the poor ill-fated 

queen of Carthage and, in her passion, 

when she finished consulting the 

oracles, she ranged through the city 

like a madwoman looking for 

Anaeas. 

When she found him she took 

him on a tour through the heart of

her town so she could display its 

wealth and, as she pointed out various 

points of interest, she kept 

reminding him that her city was being 

built for people to dwell in. 

However, such were her feelings that, 

as they walked, she often began to 

speak but then stopped in midsentence 

and gazed dreamily off into 

the far distance. Finally, as the day 

began drawing to a close, she called 

for another banquet and asked 

Anaeas to tell about the agonies of 

Troy and of his wanderings once 

more. Then, as he spoke, she hung 

onto his every word and later, when 

the guests had gone and the dim 

moon and setting stars invited 

slumber, she sat alone in the empty 

hall and caressed the couch he had 

left. In her mind's eye she saw him

standing nobly as he told his heartbreaking 

story and also remembered 

holding the wonderful little Ascanius 

in her lap. But during the following 

days and weeks, her ungovernable 

passion prevented her from paying 

attention to the work going on in her 

city and so almost all building came 

to a standstill. The towers and walls 

ceased to rise and the young men 

ceased to practise arms and make 

ready in case of war. 

However, when Juno, daughter of 

Kronos and consort of Father Zeus 

saw that Dido had been so mastered 

by the plague of love and that her 

good name could not stand in the face 

of passion, she sought out 

Aphrodite and spoke thus: 'If the 

plot you have hatched has really 

conquered Queen Dido, you and your

son deserve great praise. No, I am 

not so blind that I can't see what you 

have been up to, but when is this to 

end? What call is there for 

contention between us? You have 

gained what your heart desires 

because Queen Dido is ablaze with 

love and the madness is coursing 

through her frame. So let us establish 

a perpetual peace between us and 

arrange a firm marriage bond 

between the two. This is a nation we 

can rule together, each of us with full 

sovereignty. I am willing to let her 

stoop to be the slave of a Trojan 

husband and, in place of a dowry, I 

will hand over her Tyrians to your 

control.' 

But Aphrodite saw that Juno had 

spoken with treacherous intent and 

meant to divert the Italian empire to

the coast of Libya. In consequence, 

she replied evasively. 'Who would be 

so mad as to spurn an offer such as 

this and prefer your enmity to your 

friendship? But are you certain that 

what you suggest will bring good 

fortune in its train? I, alas, am 

groping blindly after destiny and do 

not know the will of Father Zeus. 

Does he wish the Tyrians and the 

voyagers from Troy to become one 

or would he prefer the two nations 

were joined only by a treaty? You 

are his wife and so it is your place to 

approach him and find out what he 

wants.' 

'That task,' replied the Imperial 

Juno, 'will rest with me. But listen 

while I explain how our mutual 

desires can be brought to fruition. 

Tomorrow at dawn, Anaeas and

Dido are proposing to go hunting in 

the forest and I will arrange for a 

black storm mingled with rain and 

hail to fall unexpectedly. Just when 

they have become separated from the 

main party the whole sky will be 

convulsed with thunder and, in the 

darkness, everyone will scatter and 

fly for cover. But Dido and the 

Trojan chief shall find themselves 

alone and in the same cave. I will 

be there, and, if I may count on your 

goodwill, I will unite them and make 

her his for life.' 

Aphrodite, Queen of Cythera, 

made no demur at this and nodded her 

assent. But inside she smiled to 

herself at the deception she had 

discovered. 

The following day the chivalry of 

Carthage rose with the morning star

and gathered in the courtyard with 

their nets, hounds and hunting spears 

tipped with bronze. However, they 

had to wait for their queen who still 

lingered in her chamber and as they 

waited the Trojan train also gathered 

in the courtyard with Ascanius 

jumping up and down in his 

excitement and shouting with 

delight. When Anaeas, comely 

beyond all the rest, had eventually 

added his presence the queen, dressed 

in a purple robe and followed by her 

attendants, left her chamber and 

joined the excited throng. Once the 

queen was present the whole 

procession streamed out through the 

gates and made for the high 

mountains. But at their approach the 

wild goats began dropping from the 

heights and running for the shelter of

the forest while the deer in their great 

herds, frightened by the approach of 

so many people, began to fly and set 

up a great whirlwind of dust. Young 

Ascanius, in his excitement, set after 

them at full speed and prayed that 

in the midst of such tame game, he 

would be blessed with the sight of a 

great bear or that a tawny lion would 

come down from the hilltops. But 

as the chase of the game gathered 

pace and everyone became separated 

from one another, the clear blue sky 

was suddenly darkened by an 

ominous storm cloud. As soon as the 

storm broke and began to drench the 

land with hail and rain, the Tyrian 

train and chivalry of Troy broke up in 

confusion and, as rivers of water 

began to run down the hill in torrents, 

everyone sought what shelter they

could find. Queen Dido discovered 

a sheltered cave with a mouth hidden 

from view but, as soon as she entered 

and looked around, she found to both 

her delight and terror that her shelter 

was being shared by Anaeas who had 

also managed to discover its hidden 

entrance. 

Outside the cave the rain and hail 

fell in torrents, thunder rumbled 

through the clouds and lightning 

flashes set the heavens ablaze while 

at the same time, somewhere deep 

inside the forest, the nymphs danced 

and gave their nuptial shout. But alas, 

that day was both the birthday of 

woe and the birthday of death 

because from then on Queen Dido 

gave no thought to the common eye 

or common tongue. This was not a 

secret or stolen passion that she had

in her mind because she screened her 

sin by calling it marriage. 

Consequently, in the days and 

weeks which followed Scandalous 

Gossip made her journey through 

Libya's great cities. Scandalous 

Gossip, a monster surpassed in 

speed by none because her 

nimbleness lends her life and she 

gains strength as she travels from 

tongue to tongue. At first fear keeps 

her low but before long she rears 

herself up to the sky and so, while her 

feet tread on the ground, her head is 

hidden among the clouds. Something 

deep inside the human psyche, 

which is provoked to anger by the 

restrictions of the gods, brings her 

forth and some say she is the youngest 

of the family of Coeus and Enceladus. 

But she is swift of wing and a portent

of the terrible because every ear has a 

wish to hear what she has to say and 

every tongue desires to pass on 

what the ear has heard. At night she 

flies midway between heaven and 

earth and makes every slumbering 

body dream of what she has said and 

in the daylight, she sits on top of a 

lofty house or turret and terrifies even 

the greatest kingdoms; for she is just 

as apt to cling to falsehood and wrong 

as to proclaim the truth. So all round 

the city of Carthage she filled the 

public ear with a thousand tales; of 

things that had been done and things 

that had never been done. But nobody 

who heard her tales could distinguish 

one from the other. They heard of 

how Anaeas, a prince of Trojan 

blood, had arrived in Carthage. He 

was a hero whom the queen wished

to make her husband and now they 

were both spending the winter in 

luxurious ease and, enthralled by 

their unworthy passion, they were 

forgetful of the crowns they wore. 

Such were the tales the fiendlike 

goddess was spreading from tongue 

to tongue and in due course, she 

turned her steps towards King Iarbas 

and inflamed him with her rumours 

to such an extent, his indignation 

knew no bounds. He, the son of 

Ammon and a Garamantian nymph 

had built a hundred temples to Father 

Zeus within his broad realm and in 

each there was an altar which he had 

consecrated to ever wakeful Fear, the 

unsleeping sentry of the gods. The 

floors of each temple had been 

washed with the blood of many 

sacrifices and the doors were always

wreathed with multicoloured 

garlands. He was stung by the bitter 

tales he heard and so, standing before 

one of the altars and with the majesty 

of heaven all around him, he prayed 

long and earnestly with upturned 

hands. 'Father Zeus, the Almighty,' 

he cried, 'to whom the Moorish 

race always pours out the offerings 

of their finest vintage, do you see 

what has happened, or when you hurl 

your lightning bolts, is our fear of you 

just an idle panic? Are those fires in 

the clouds which appal us so much 

only an idle amusement for you? Do 

the confused rumblings of your 

thunder have no meaning? Do you 

not know that a woman who came to 

our land and bought leave to build 

a petty town and to whom I made 

over a strip of land for tillage with

its rights of lordship, has rejected 

her alliance with us and received the 

Trojan Anaeas into her kingdom? To 

be its lord and hers? And now this 

second Paris who perfumes his hair, 

wears a Maeonian cap and has a 

following of cowardly people who 

ran from the Argives in Troy is 

enjoying his prize. Is this just an idle 

rumour or do we waste our time when 

we bow down and pray to you?' 

Thus, as Iarbas prayed, the 

Almighty One heard his plea and 

turned his all seeing eyes to the 

queenly city and guilty pair who 

were lost to their better frame. Then 

he called Iris of the whirlwind feet. 

'Summon the Zephyrs,' he said, 'to 

give you speed and go in haste to the 

Dardanian chief who is now dallying 

in Tyrian Carthage and giving no

thought to his destiny. Tell him I am 

shocked by this dalliance of his and 

did not twice rescue him from the 

bronze of the Argives so he could 

spend the rest of his life in Queen 

Dido's Carthage. No, he is destined to 

be the one who governs Italy, a nation 

with a war cry struggling to rise from 

its soul and a brood of unborn empires 

still in its womb. He, as the carrier of 

Dardanian blood, was chosen by me 

to make the whole world bow before 

the laws he honours us with. But if 

he is no longer fired by the spark of 

ambition and will not bend his back 

to our cause, remind him that he is 

begrudging his Ascanius his 

inheritance. Ask him what he is 

building in Carthage and what he 

hopes to gain by lingering on in a 

small town which is surrounded by

enemies? Is the comfort of Dido's 

love causing him to forget the 

greatness we have appointed for him? 

It is my wish that he fulfils his destiny 

and so he must immediately drag his 

ships back into the water and hoist his 

sails to the wind.' 

Father Zeus having spoken, Iris 

prepared to execute her great father's 

command by binding to her feet the 

sandals of gold which would carry 

her over both sea and land with the 

swiftness of a falling meteorite. Then 

she picked up her rod, which like the 

one possessed by Hermes the Guide 

and God of Luck, can close the eyes 

of people and put them to sleep or 

awake them from the deepest 

slumber. With this in hand she flew 

off from Olympus and made her way 

through the sea of clouds. As she flew

past the tall sides of Atlas the rugged 

who supports the sky with his head 

and is forever wreathed in dark 

clouds and buffeted by wind and rain, 

she dropped to the sea and, like a bird 

which is hunting for fish on a rocky 

coast, flew low and close to the water 

until she reached her destination. 

As soon as her winged feet 

alighted among the houses of 

Carthage she saw Anaeas organising 

the building of towers and new 

houses. A sword was at his side and 

hanging from his shoulders was a 

cloak of Tyrian purple which was 

emblazoned with pictures made from 

threads of gold and had been made 

by Queen Dido herself. She accosted 

him immediately. 'What,' she asked 

'are you doing laying the 

foundations of stately Carthage and

uilding, like a fond husband, your 

wife's goodly city while forgetting, 

alas, your own destiny and the cares 

which should be yours? I have been 

sent by Father Zeus, whose mere nod 

sways both heaven and earth, and he 

has ordered me to remind you of his 

will. He wants to know what are 

you building here and why are you 

squandering your time in this Libyan 

land? If you have lost interest in the 

greatness which is your destiny and 

will not bend your back towards this 

aim, think of your little Ascanius who 

is now growing into a man. If you 

marry Queen Dido he will not be your 

heir. He will never be king of 

Carthage because he will always be 

subjective to the children you sire 

with the queen. His future is in Italy 

and the realm of Rome and so Father

Zeus wishes you to drag your ships 

back into the water and be on your 

way.' 

With these words Iris vanished 

into the unsubstantial air and sped 

back to Olympus. 

The visitation stunned Anaeas 

and left him unable to speak. But then, 

as his ears rang with the thunder of 

Heaven's imperious warning, his 

heart was engulfed with the urge to 

leave this land of love and pleasure. 

But how was he going to approach 

the impassioned queen with the news? 

In a desperate attempt to find some 

acceptable way of telling her of what 

he intended, his thoughts ran hither 

and thither: from east to west and then 

north to south before returning once 

more to where they had started. In 

the end, doing what he could to

alance his options, he decided that 

the best thing would be for him to 

begin by preparing the fleet and then 

wait for a favourable opportunity in 

which to tell the queen his unpleasant 

news. Consequently, he called 

Menestheus, Sergestus and brave 

Serestus to his side and ordered 

them to prepare the fleet as quietly 

as possible and muster the crews on 

the shore with their arms in their 

hands. In the meantime he, while 

Dido, who was the kindest of friends, 

remained in ignorance and deemed 

love's bonds to be too strong to be 

snapped, would feel his way forward 

and look for the kindest moment in 

which to tell her of his decision. 

But the queen, ever alive to fear 

in the midst of safety, caught a scent 

the plot and heard the first sounds of

the coming stir. Once again, 

Scandalous Gossip flew from tongue 

to tongue before eventually 

whispering in her frenzied ear and 

telling her that the fleet was being 

equipped and the voyage got ready. 

Infuriated by this news she left her 

palace and stormed through the city 

streets in search of Anaeas and, when 

she found him, she did not wait for 

him to greet her. 

'Why are you hiding this terrible 

crime of yours?' She cried out in 

anger, 'You treacherous wretch! Are 

you intending to steal away in 

secret? Has our love no meaning to 

you? Has your troth, once plighted, 

no value? Would you doom me, your 

beloved Dido, to a cruel death? How 

can you be so foolish as to fit out 

your fleet while winter is still upon

us? Have you forgotten how cruel and 

unforgiving the northern winds can be 

to ships at sea?' She paused for a 

moment and wiped the tears from her 

cheeks. 'Supposing,' she continued, 

'you were not seeking a strange clime 

and a home you do not know? 

Supposing old Troy were still 

standing, would it draw you to risk 

your fleet on the winter's sea? You 

are flying from me, aren't you? But 

what have I done? Please, if I have 

ever done anything to please you, I 

beg you not to leave me to the 

mercy of the tribes which surround 

me. Because of you they now all hate 

me and even my own Tyrians are 

estranged. Because of you, my 

woman's honour has been betrayed 

and that was my one passport to 

holding my place in this land and

keeping a control of my city. But 

since you became my guest, the name 

of my husband has dwindled and the 

people have lost their respect.' She 

stopped again for a moment but then 

burst out. 'Oh why do I bother to 

live any longer? To give my brother 

Pygmalion time to batter down my 

walls or King Iarbas the Moor a 

chance to carry me away as a captive? 

Had I but borne a child of yours 

before you left, if there was some tiny 

Ascanius to play in my hall and 

remind me of you, I should not feel 

so utterly abandoned. But you are 

leaving without a thought for anyone 

but yourself and your precious Italy.' 

At this she fell silent and though 

her eyes still blazed with anger, the 

tears flowed freely down her cheeks. 

But Anaeas, recalling the command

of Father Zeus, shut his great love 

from his heart and kept his eyes stony. 

At length he answered her in cold 

tones. 'Fair queen, name all the claims 

you have upon me and I shall not 

deny a single one. Nor will the 

thought of you ever be unwelcome 

while breath animates my body. A 

few words, however, I will say. I 

never counted, do not dream of it, on 

stealthily concealing my flight from 

you. But you have to remember 

that I never came here with a 

bridegroom's torch in my hand and 

nor was ours an alliance to which I 

agreed. For me, were the Fates to 

allow me to live under a star of my 

own choosing, the city of Troy, 

first and foremost, would claim me. 

King Priam's tall city would be rebuilt 

and my own hands would lay the

stones which restored the Pergamus 

to its former glory. But now it is to 

Italy that I must go because the 

oracles have commanded it. There 

lies my heart and there also lies the 

future of my Ascanius. If you are 

riveted here by the sight of your 

stately Carthage, why, I would ask, 

should your jealousy forbid us from 

settling in Latium? We, like you, 

have the right to look for a foreign 

realm which we can make our own. 

For some time now my father, 

Anchises, has been coming to me 

in my dreams and appalling me by 

his troubled presence. I also can't 

forget my son Ascanius and the 

wrongs I heap on his head each day I 

delay here and rob him of the crown 

of Hesperia; the land which Fate has 

decreed to be his. But just today, and

I swear to this by both our lives, a 

messenger of the gods, sent down by 

Father Zeus himself, brought me 

orders through the flying air. With 

my own eyes I saw her walk through 

the walls of the house I was building 

and took in her words with the ears 

which hear you now. Cease then to 

torment both our souls with your 

reproaches, for my quest is not of my 

own choosing.' 

But as he spoke she glared at him 

and rolled her eyes this way and that 

and then, when he had finished, she 

burst out in anger: 'No goddess was 

a mother of yours and no Dardanos 

the head of your line. You filthy, 

disgusting creature! No, your parent 

was the evil Caucasus and it was a 

Hyrcanian tigress who suckled you at 

her breast. But why should I suppress

anything? For what worse evil should 

I hold myself in reserve? Did you 

groan when I wept? Did you soften 

those hard eyes of yours at my 

distress? Did you yield just a little 

and shed tears at our parting? Did 

you show even an ounce of pity for 

the one you are deserting? Now 

neither Juno, Queen of All, or Zeus 

the Almighty eyes us with impartial 

regard. Oh, in who can I trust? I 

welcomed a shipwrecked beggar and 

madly gave him a share of my 

realm. His damaged fleet and his 

people I brought back from death's 

door and this is how he repays me! 

Ah! Anger is setting me on fire and 

whirling me in circles.' 

She paused for a moment, her 

eyes ablaze with the fire of her fury 

and then continued. 'First you talk of

the prophet of Apollo, and then the 

Lykian oracles and now you tell me 

of a messenger from the gods, sent 

down by Zeus himself. Aye, of 

course, everything you do is at the 

behest of the powers above and I 

would not ask you to disobey them. I 

will retain not your person, nor refute 

your talk. Go! Chase Italy with the 

winds at your back and look for your 

realm on the other side of the sea. But 

if the gods are as powerful as they 

are just, I only hope that far out at 

sea, some jagged rocks will give you 

your just rewards. But, rest assured, 

I will follow you like a dark cloud 

within which burns a venomous fire 

for, when cold death shall have 

parted my soul from my body, my 

memory will haunt you wherever 

you go. Yes, you will suffer and I will

make sure of it.' 

So saying she turned on her heel 

and flew with loathing from his sight. 

But such was her distress that when 

she reached her palace, she collapsed 

on the floor and her maidens had to 

carry her to her marble bed chamber 

and lay her on her bed. 

But good Anaeas, though he had 

been shattered by her fury, yearned 

to soothe her agonised spirit and, by 

his words, check the onset of her 

sorrow. His whole soul cried out in 

sorrow and urged him to go to her 

but he chose instead to answer the 

command of Heaven and returned to 

his fleet. All along the shore his men 

were labouring to drag the ships 

down into the water and, such was 

their eagerness to fly, they loaded 

oars with the leaves and branches still

attached and timber as yet 

unfashioned. The whole shore was 

alive with work and, like columns of 

ants, Trojans could be seen streaming 

from every part of the city to assist in 

the effort. 

But when she saw this from her 

lofty bedroom, Dido gave a deep 

groan of agony and bust into tears. 

She began then to think of ways in 

which she might bend Anaeas' proud 

spirit and persuade him to stay, at 

least for a while. She was terrified 

because she knew that if she left any 

ruse untried, she would only be 

rushing to a needless death. 

For a time she paced her room 

and constantly looked out on the 

harbour where the Trojans were 

preparing their fleet and then, 

because she could bear it no longer,

she rushed out of her marble bed 

chamber and went in search of her 

sister. When she found her, she took 

her by the arm and spoke earnestly to 

her. 'Anna,' she said, the tears 

streaming down her cheeks. 'You can 

see the Trojans hurrying to the shore 

from all sides and that their canvas is 

already wooing the winds. If I had 

had the foresight to anticipate such a 

heavy blow, I would have the power 

to bear it too. But Anna, my sister, 

this has taken me by surprise and so, 

in my misery, I must beg you to do 

something for me.' She stopped here 

and looked into her sister's eyes. 

Then when she saw her sister was 

sympathetic to her plight, she 

continued. 'Anna, you were the only 

person who that perfidious man was 

wont to make his friend. Aye, he

even trusted you with his secret 

thoughts and so only you know the 

subtle approaches to his heart. Go 

then and supplicate our haughty foe. 

Remind him that I was no party to the 

Argive fleet which sacked his 

beloved Troy and I have also always 

honoured his father's memory. I am 

not and never have been his enemy, 

so why will he not let my words 

sink down into that obdurate heart of 

his? Where is he hurrying to? Ask 

him to grant this last wish to the one 

who loves him so. Let him wait till 

winter has passed and there are 

smooth seas and friendly winds to 

speed him on his way. I will not ask 

him to renew our old vows and nor 

will I ask him to resign his crown or 

forego his fair Latium. All I ask are 

but a few vacant days in which my

passion can have a breathing space 

and my baffled love can learn how to 

grieve. Hurry, please! Go to him and 

persuade him to delay until spring.' 

Such was her appeal to her sister 

and such were the tidings Anna bore 

to Anaeas. But Fate had barred the 

way to Dido's entreaties and so his 

soul was closed to the heart-breaking 

words he heard. Even as an aged oak 

standing on an Alpine hill is 

besieged by powerful winds and a 

loud noise is heard as the leaves are 

blown from its branches and the deep 

roots shift slightly in the earth, the 

tree stays rooted in the ground and 

its head continues to reach for the 

sky. Thus, although Dido's message 

tore at Anaeas' heart and made him 

groan with agony, her tears were in 

vain because his mind remained

unshaken. 

When Anna returned with the 

dreadful news, Queen Dido, 

maddened by her destiny, prayed for 

death as her heart was too weary to 

face the difficulties of the future. That 

death was the right thing for her was 

confirmed when, at the altar, as she 

was laying her offerings and burning 

incense to the gods, horrible to tell, 

she saw her sacred offerings turn 

black while the wine in the golden 

cup she held curdled into a loathsome 

gore. But she told no one of this 

horrible occurrence, not even her 

sister. Nor did she tell of the fact 

that, in the night, from the marble 

chapel which had been dedicated to 

her former husband and to which 

she used to pay singular honours, she 

thought she heard the voice of her

dead husband calling to her. She also 

did not mention the predictions of 

seers in days gone by and their awful 

warnings. In the following nights, 

when she slept, she dreamed Anaeas 

was chasing her furiously along a 

never ending road while she, always 

by herself, ran with all the speed she 

could and looked for her Tyrians in 

a realm without inhabitants. In these 

dreams she felt like Pentheus did 

when, in a frenzy, he saw troops of 

the Furies, two suns and also two 

cities of Thebes rising up against him 

or, like King Agamenmon's Orestes, 

rushing over the stage as he flew from 

his mother who was armed with a 

flaming torch and wreathed in deadly 

snakes which continually lunged at 

him with their fanged mouths and 

tried to bring him to the ground with

their venom. 

Finally, when spent with agony, 

Queen Dido gave in to the forces 

which were attacking her and resolved 

on death. Also, within herself, she 

decided on the time and means and 

so she called her sister and, keeping 

a happy smile on her face to disguise 

her intent, she said. 'Dearest sister, I 

have found a way out of my 

difficulties and you must wish me 

joy. I know how to either bring him 

back or loosen the bonds of love 

which bind me to him. Not far away 

lies Ethiopia. It is a land where the 

gods often go to feast and also where 

Atlas turns round in his hands that 

great pole which is crowned with 

burning stars. There lives a priestess 

of the Massylian race who was once 

the guardian of the temple of the

Hesperides and who used to preserve 

the sacred tree by giving the dragon 

honey laced with drowsy poppy seed. 

She, by her spells, can release souls 

from their torments or, if she chooses, 

make them suffer unbelievable pains. 

She can also stop the water in a river 

bed, cause the stars in the heavens 

to go backwards and call up ghosts 

from Hades' Halls. By the gods, 

dearest sister, I swear to you that I do 

not willingly fall back on weapons of 

sorcery, but such is my distress, I 

must do something. But, to use this 

sorcery which I have heard of, I must 

ask you to build a pile in the privacy 

of the inner courtyard and lay on it the 

arms which that godless man has left 

hanging in my chamber. Also place 

on it all the clothes he wore and the 

nuptial bed which was my undoing.

To destroy every memory of that 

hateful worm is both the priestess's 

bidding and my own pleasure.' 

Having said this she fell silent 

and a paleness came over her face. 

Anna, however, failed to notice this 

and so went to do her sister's bidding. 

She had no idea that these strange 

rites were a veil to hide Dido's death 

and, because she could not 

understand such a frenzy, she feared 

no darker days than ones like those 

in which they had both mourned the 

death of Sychaeus. 

But the queen, when the great 

pile of pine and oak had been built 

in the open courtyard, bedecked the 

palace with garlands and funeral 

boughs. High above the pile she then 

put the sword Anaeas had given her 

as a gift and all the other belongings

he had left behind. After this, with 

one foot unshod and her vest 

ungirdled, she went from temple to 

temple and prayed to nearly three 

hundred gods including Erebus, 

Chaos and Hecate with her three 

faces. But, as she made her dying 

appeal to the gods and the stars 

which share Fate's counsel, she 

begged the gods in heaven who 

watch over ill-yoked lovers, if any 

there be, to hear her prayers. 

As night came and exhausted 

humanity throughout the earth was 

enjoying peaceful slumber and the 

stars were rolling midway in their 

course through the heavens, Dido 

never relaxed for a moment. One 

after another, her sorrows tore at her 

passionate heart and so she could not 

welcome the night into her bosom.

Finally, as the multitude of painful 

thoughts refused to stop whirling 

through the depths of her soul, she 

rose from her bed and cried out. 

'What am I about? Am I to make a 

fool of myself in front of my former 

suitors, all of whom I have scorned? 

Must I stoop to court a nomadic 

bridegroom when I have rejected so 

many already? What shall I do? Shall 

I follow the fleet of Ilios and be at 

the beck and call of a Dardanian 

master? Will he remember the 

kindness I once rendered him? Is he 

grateful for it? But even if I wished 

it, would he admit an unwelcome 

guest to his haughty ships? Am I so 

ignorant, poor wretch that I am? Do 

I not yet understand the treachery of 

the race of Laomedon? What is to 

be done? Shall I fly to the ships alone

and swell the triumph of their crews? 

Or shall I join him with my Tyrians 

and drag those, whom it was so hard 

to uproot from their Sidonian home, 

once more into the deep and bid them 

spread their sails to the winds? No! 

It is better that I die the death I have 

merited and let the sword put my 

sorrows to flight. Yes, over-mastered 

by my tears though I am, I can still 

see that I am the cause of my own 

misfortune. Oh why could I not 

forswear wedlock and live an 

unblemished life in savage freedom? 

Why did I have to meddle with 

troubles like these? Why, alas, did I 

not keep the vows I made to the ashes 

of my Sychaeus?' 

Meanwhile Anaeas, resolved on 

his journey, was slumbering in the 

stern of his vessel. All was in

eadiness for a dawn departure but, 

as he slept, a vision of Iris appeared 

in his dream and gave him a second 

warning. 'Goddess-born,' she said. 

'How can you sleep when a crisis like 

this is upon you? Infatuate though 

you are, can you not see the wall of 

danger which is rising around you 

nor hear the friendly whisper of the 

western wind? She is revolving in her 

bosom thoughts of craft and cruelty 

and although resolved on death, she 

is also surging with a tempest of 

changing passions, so there is no 

telling of what she might do. Will 

you not hasten away while haste is in 

your power? Do you wish to look on 

a sea convulsed with Tyrian ships and 

your own aglow with flame? You are 

in danger and if the dawn goddess 

finds you loitering here on land, there

is no telling what will happen. Quick, 

do not delay! Depart while you can 

for women are ever creatures of 

changing moods and passions.' 

At this Iris vanished from his 

dream and returned into the darkness 

of night. 

Anaeas, greatly disturbed by this 

sudden apparition and its warnings 

immediately leapt from his bed and 

roused his comrades. 'Wake up my 

friends!' He cried. 'Unfurl the sails as 

quickly as you can and take your 

seats on the benches. A goddess, sent 

down from heaven on high, has urged 

us to cut the twisted hawsaws and 

hasten our flight.' Then turning his 

eyes to the star studded sky he cried. 

'Yes! Sacred power, we follow thee, 

whoever you are and, with joy in our 

hearts, we obey thy behest. But be

thou with us and let favourable stars 

be ascendant in the sky.' 

So saying he drew his flashing 

sword from its scabbard and cut the 

hawsers. This sent the spark of joy 

flying from man to man and they laid 

on their oars with a will and, as the 

blades of pine swept the black 

water, the mass of ships began to 

move slowly away from the shore. 

But just as dawn was sprinkling 

the earth with fresh light and chasing 

the shadows into the western gloom, 

the queen looked out from her watch 

tower and saw the fleet moving out to 

sea with all sails spread. At this she 

smote her beauteous breast three 

times and, tearing at her golden locks, 

she cried. 'Great Father Zeus, shall 

he go? Shall someone who chanced 

upon my shores boast of having

flouted my realm? Will my Tyrians 

not get their arms at once and, 

pulling the ships from the docks, give 

chase with fire? Quick, get the 

archers and bring fire to the shore.' 

She stopped for a moment and 

looked wildly around her. Then, 

after a moment's thought, she 

continued. 'But what am I saying? 

Were am I? What madness is 

infecting my brain? Woe is me for 

my sins are stinging me now. But 

they should have done so before I so 

foolishly gave my crown away. What 

loyalty could I expect from a man 

who, they say, carries about with him 

the gods of his country and took 

upon his shoulders his old, worn out 

father! When I had the chance, would 

it not have been better if I had had him 

torn to pieces and fed piecemeal to the

fish of the sea? Or, after having 

destroyed his friends, might I not have 

imprisoned him without food until he 

was starving and then, after killing 

his own little Ascanius, served the boy 

to his father for a meal? But maybe 

I should have just refused to help them 

and sent them on their way because 

the chances of winning a battle 

against experienced Trojan warriors 

would have been doubtful. But then, 

if it was my destiny to die, what had 

I to fear? I would have flung blazing 

torches into his ships and filled the 

sea with flame. Then after killing son 

and sire and the whole family line, 

I would have thrown myself upon the 

burning pyre. But Sun, whose torch 

shows thee all that is done on earth, 

and you, Juno, revealer and witness 

to these stirrings of the heart, and

Hecate, whose name is yelled in civic 

crossways at night by the avenging 

Fiends and you, gods of dying Elissa, 

listen to this! Let your power stoop 

to the evils which call for it and hear 

what I now pray! If it must be that 

the accursed wretch gains the haven 

of Italy because that is what Father 

Zeus desires, grant that, harassed 

by the sword and battles with warlike 

nations, he may see his friends dying 

miserably around him and pray for 

succour. Then, once he has been 

forced to yield to the terms of an 

unjust peace, make sure he does not 

enjoy the crown he wears or the life 

he loves, but let him fall before his 

time and lie unburied in the midst of 

the plain! This is my prayer and these 

are the last words which flow from 

me with my life's blood.'

She paused for a moment 

breathing heavily while her mixed up 

passions tore at her heart. Then she 

cursed him and his descendents by 

crying. 'And you, my Tyrians, let 

your hatred persecute his race and 

people for all time to come. Be this 

the offering you send down to my 

grave. Never let be there be love or 

league between our two nations. 

Arise from my bones, my unknown 

avenger, and pursue the Dardanian 

settlers with fire and sword, both now 

and in days to come. Let coast be at 

war with coast and army with army 

and may our descendants fight their 

descendants for time without end.' 

In this way her passions whirled 

around in circles and, seeking at 

once to cut short the life she now 

abhorred, she spoke briefly to Barce,

Sychaeus' nurse, as her own had been 

left in her old country in the dark 

recesses of a grave: 'Fetch me here, 

dear nurse,' she said, 'my sister Anna. 

Ask her to first sprinkle herself with 

water from the stream and then bring 

the cattle and other prescribed 

offerings for the ritual we have 

planned. But when she comes, both 

of you must cover your eyes with a 

holy veil because I will be performing 

the sacrifice to Stygian Zeus and, once 

I have put to the flame those things 

which that Dardanian has left 

behind, I will no longer be afflicted 

by my sorrows.' 

The nurse, who loved Dido 

dearly and had no idea of what she 

intended, immediately went to do her 

bidding. 

Once the nurse had departed,

Dido, confused and maddened by her 

enormous resolve, rolled her 

bloodshot eyes to heaven and then 

burst through the doors of the inner 

courtyard and frantically climbed the 

tall pile of wood. When she reached 

the top, with her hair dishevelled, her 

clothes in disarray and her cheeks 

wet from the tears which streamed 

down her face, she unsheathed the 

Trojan sword which had been a gift 

procured for a far different end. 

After this she knelt on the unhappy 

nuptial bed which she knew so well 

and, before uttering her final words, 

she placed the point of the sword to 

her breast. 

'Relics who, while Fate and 

Heaven gave me leave, were once 

darlings of mine,' she cried, 'receive 

this my soul and release me from

my sorrows. I have lived my life but 

now the course assigned to me by 

Fortune is run and my phantom must 

pass underground. I have built a 

splendid city and have seen its walls 

completed. In vengeance for a 

husband I have also punished a 

brother who hated me. But, ah, 

happy though I am at this, if only 

the Dardanian ships had never 

touched this coast of ours!' Then 

looking up to the sky above her head 

she continued, 'Is it to be death 

without revenge? If it is, then this is 

the road by which I choose to pass 

into the underworld. Let the 

heartless Dardanian's eyes drink in the 

flame of this pyre from the sea and let 

it carry to him the message of my 

death.' 

So saying she allowed her weight

to fall on the sword. Just at that 

moment her attendants entered the 

courtyard and, when they saw the 

blade sticking out of Dido's back, the 

blood, and her hands grabbing 

painfully at the sides of the nuptial 

bed on which she lay, they screamed 

out in terror. Their shrieks rose to 

the sky and spread the news rapidly 

through the city and so, in moments, 

the whole city was resounding to the 

cries of distraught women and the 

beating of breasts. It was almost as if 

there were a foe about to burst 

through the city gates or the hungry 

flames were already leaping from 

roof to roof and consuming the 

dwellings of both men and gods. 

Anna, hearing the cries, rushed 

with frantic haste to the courtyard and 

when she arrived she pushed her way

through the press and called her sister 

by name. 'Dido, my sister! Was this 

your secret?' she cried. 'Were you 

plotting to cheat me? Was this what 

you were preparing when you asked 

me to build this pile? What should 

my lonely heart grieve for first? Did 

you disdain your sister's company in 

death? Why did you not ask me to 

share your fate? Why did you not 

allow me to die by the same sword 

and at the same time, for this should 

have been the end of us both. And 

did my hands build the pile and my 

voice call upon the gods of our house 

so that you might lie there, while I, 

hard-hearted wretch that I am, was 

away? Yes sister, you have 

destroyed yourself, but what about me 

and the people of your fair city? But 

first let me cleanse your wound and,

if any breath remains in your body, 

let me catch it in my mouth!' As she 

spoke she climbed hastily to the top 

of the lofty pile and embraced her 

dying sister in her arms while streams 

of dark blood reddened her hands and 

her robe. At her sister's arrival Queen 

Dido opened her heavy eyes and 

strove to raise herself on her elbow, 

but sank down again with deep 

gurgles rising from her breast. Three 

times she tried to lift herself onto 

her elbow, but each time she 

collapsed again onto the bed and, with 

helpless, wandering eyes, she 

searched the sky for the light, but 

groaned when she found it. 

At this Juno, Queen of Heaven, 

in compassion for her drawn out 

suffering and her agony in dying, sent 

Iris down from Olympus to part the

struggling soul from its prison of 

flesh. For, as she was not dying in 

the course of Fate nor from any crime 

of her own, but in misery and before 

her time because she was the victim 

of a sudden frenzy, Proserpine had not 

yet carried off a lock of her yellow 

hair and thus doomed her to the place 

of death. So, at Juno's command, Iris 

glided down from Olympus on saffron 

wings which trailed a thousand 

different colours in the early morning 

sunlight and alighted above her head. 

'This I am bidden,' she said gently, 

'to bear away as an offering to Hades, 

and so set you free from your body.' 

So saying she stretched out her hand 

and cut off a lock of Dido's hair and 

at once all life left the queen's frame 

and passed into the air.

Book V 

As the Trojan ships cut through the 

waves raised by the North wind, 

Anaeas constantly turned his eyes 

back to the city he was leaving 

behind. But when the flames from 

poor Dido's funeral pyre began to 

light up the sky, he and his crews 

knew not what to make of it. However, 

when they thought of the cruel 

pangs which follow outrage done to 

great love and realized what a frantic 

woman is capable of, every person's 

heart was swept with agony and 

sorrow. They were sure something 

terrible had happened in the palace 

and that Queen Dido, the queen who 

had succoured them in their time of

need, was now on her way to Hades' 

Halls. 

However, as soon as the ships 

had left all sight of land behind, a 

dark rain cloud charged with night and 

winter's fury arose and stood over 

the fleet. Palinurus, the pilot, spoke 

from the lofty stern. 'Ah!' He cried! 

'Why has such an army of storms 

gathered? What has Father Poseidon 

got in store for us now?' Then he 

ordered the crews to furl the sails, 

make sure everything was securely 

stowed and take to the benches. For 

several hours the men laboured at 

their oars but, Palinurus, unhappy 

with the progress being made, turned 

to Anaeas and said. 'Noble Anaeas, 

even though Father Zeus himself has 

pledged us his help, we cannot hope 

to reach Italy with a sky like this. The

seas are rising and the winds are also 

shifting this way and that, so even 

when we row we cannot make 

headway against them. But since 

Fortune has decided to exert her 

tyranny, let us follow where she leads 

and run with the wind. If memory 

serves me, we are not far from the 

friendly land of Eryx and the 

sheltered bays of Sicania.' 

'We have been struggling 

against the winds for some time 

now,' Anaeas replied, 'and I can see 

all our efforts have been in vain. 

Turn the ships then and let us run with 

the wind. But if you can guide us to 

the sheltered havens of Sicania, I 

doubt if any place would be more 

welcome because it is the land which 

cares for the bones of my father.' 

This said they allowed the ships

to turn and with the wind behind 

them, the fleet rode swiftly over 

the waves and so, with only minor 

adjustments to their course, they soon 

entered the sheltered haven they knew 

well. But from a high hill on the 

island, Acestes had seen the fleet 

from afar and as soon as he was 

sure that they were friendly vessels, 

he ran down to the shore dressed in 

his Libyan bearskin and carrying his 

hunting spear. Acestes was a 

descendant of a Trojan mother and 

the river Crimisus and so at the arrival 

of a Trojan fleet, his ancestral blood 

quickened in his veins and he rejoiced 

in their safe return. After welcoming 

them back, he quickly arranged for 

his townspeople to take care of their 

every need.

On the next day, as dawn was 

putting the stars to flight, Anaeas 

called his comrades to a gathering 

and, standing on the green grass of 

a heaped mound, he addressed them. 

'Mighty sons of Dardanos and race of 

Heaven.' He said. 'The year has 

turned full cycle since we 

consecrated altars of mourning and 

gave to the earth the relics and ashes 

of my deified sire. And now, if I am 

not mistaken, the very day is here; 

that day which for me shall ever be a 

day of weeping. But as the gods 

willed it so, let it also, from now on, 

be a day of honour and if in the future, 

this day ever finds me a homeless 

wanderer among the Gaetulian Syrtes 

or alone in the streets of Argive 

Mycenae, let me still pay my yearly 

vows and pile the altars with their

proper gifts. But now, by an unsought 

chance, we are standing on the very 

ground which cares for my father's 

bones. So come then, let us solemnize 

the occasion with glad celebrations 

and may my father be pleased when 

one day I offer these rites in a city 

of my own building and which has a 

temple dedicated to his memory.' 

Turning to Acestes he said. 

'Send two head of oxen, Acestes, true 

son of Troy, to each ship. Also call 

all the gods who have been 

worshipped by our ancestors to the 

feast and, if on the ninth day from 

today the goddess of dawn is kind and 

makes the world visible with bright 

sunshine and also keeps the storm 

clouds at bay, I propose celebration 

games of racing, archery and boxing. 

Then if the townspeople will put up

their best eleven, we will do the same 

and in the days which follow we 

can recall the glories of Troy and 

enjoy a venerable game of spicket. 

Once he had said this he 

solemnly shrouded his brow with 

myrtle and was followed in this by 

Helymus, Acestes and young 

Ascanius. After this, as protocol 

demanded, each member of the 

gathered crowd also shrouded their 

brows with myrtle and when all were 

properly attired, they followed 

Anaeas to his father's tomb. Anaeas 

began the ceremony by pouring four 

bowls of fine wine on the ground; two 

of new milk and two of sacrificial 

blood. After this he scattered bright 

flowers around the tomb and said. 

'Hail to thee, blessed sire of mine.' 

Then looking down into the mouth of

the tomb he added. 'Hail to you, spirit 

of my father and ashes of one rescued 

in vain! Fate did not intend that you 

should come with me to the Italian 

frontier nor see the Ausonian Tiber; 

whatever the name may mean.' 

As he was saying this a shining 

serpent of great length rose up from 

the mouth of the tomb and after 

gliding gracefully between the altars, 

coiled itself peacefully on the grass 

just above the spot where the ashes 

had been buried. On its back were 

dark green flecks while its scales 

were ablaze with all the colours of 

the rainbow. All were wonder-struck 

by this sight for the creature had 

wound its long column through the 

multitude of dishes and polished 

goblets which rested on the ground 

and had not touched a single one.

But after resting for just a short while, 

the snake gracefully uncoiled itself 

and glided slowly back into the dark 

mouth of the tomb. Excited by this 

Anaeas resumed paying homage to 

his father, for he did not know 

whether to think of this as an 

accidental coincidence or a message 

from his father's spirit. He therefore 

slew two young sheep, two swine 

and two black skinned bullocks and 

also poured goblets of wine on the 

ground and called on the soul of his 

great father and the shadow which 

had been loosed from Hade's prison. 

His comrades too, each according 

their means, also gave glad offerings 

which they piled on the altars. 

According to their wealth they either 

slew bullocks, set up cauldrons or 

held the spits over the burning embers

and roasted the flesh. 

Once the remembrance ceremony 

was over all retired to their ships or 

towns to await the arrival of the ninth 

day. When it came the dawn 

goddess brought a bright sunny 

morning and everybody excitedly 

prepared themselves for the games. 

Acestes brought people from all the 

neighbouring towns and also from 

towns which were some distance 

away and the joyous multitude 

gathered on the shore to await the 

arrival of Anaeas. Many were keen 

to compete for the prizes and so, 

when Anaeas and his entourage 

arrived, he began by placing all the 

prizes in the middle of a ring 

which had been marked out on the 

grass: hallowed tripods, verdant 

chaplets, palms, talents of silver and

gold, armour and also clothing of 

royal purple. Then from a mound 

in the centre of the crowd a shrill 

trumpet proclaimed the sports begun. 

The first contest, which was to be 

waged with labouring oars, was 

entered by the four best ships in the 

fleet. There was Menestheus, who 

would one day be a prince of Italy 

and give his name to the Memmian 

line, with his fiery crew rowing the 

swift Shark. Gyas commanded the 

enormous Chimaera; a ship with 

many oars and Sergestus, from whom 

the Sergian house gained the name it 

keeps, commanded the mighty 

Centaur. Scylla was com-manded by 

Cloanthus, the great fore-father of 

Cluentius of Rome. 

Some distance out in the sea 

stood a craggy rock which was

washed by the waves. In winter, when 

the cold North wind blew and hid the 

stars from view, it was submerged by 

the swell but in a calm it became a 

welcome basking ground for all the 

birds of the sea. On this Anaeas set 

up the green stem of leafy oak so that 

the sailors might have a point around 

which they could turn before 

beginning their return to the shore. 

After the casting of lots had decided 

the starting place of each ship, the 

captains stood on their tall sterns 

dressed in purple and gold while the 

crew, whose bodies shone with the oil 

which had been rubbed into their 

skin, all wore garlands on their heads. 

As they waited for the starting signal, 

every man sat tense in his seat and 

gripped his oar while his beating heart 

was drained by both the desire to win

and the fear of losing. When the shrill 

trumpet uttered its voice, all 

immediately laid on their oars with 

a will and, as the shouts of the 

seamen pierced the sky, the ships 

began to slowly edge away from 

the shore. With measured, uniform 

strokes each man laboured intently at 

his oar and although the ships did not 

move as quickly as war chariots in a 

race, the shouting of the sailors 

and cheering of the spectators raised 

a great din which was echoed back 

by the surrounding hills. As the ships 

began gathering speed Gyas moved 

out in front and was closely followed 

by Cloanthus who had more oars but 

a heavier ship. Behind them the Shark 

and the Centaur strove to keep pace 

but as the speed of the ships 

continued to increase, the Shark

nosed ahead. But almost immediately 

the Centaur pushed her bow in front 

of the Shark's and then the Chimaera 

took the lead once again and for a long 

while there was nothing in it. 

Everyone of the men heaved on their 

oars with all the strength they could 

muster but the position of the ships 

remained unchanged. However, just 

as they were approaching the rock, 

Gyas, whose ship was just in the lead, 

called to his pilot. 'Leave the deep to 

the others and let the blades hug the 

cliff face.' But Menoetes was afraid 

of the hidden rocks and so kept the 

ship safely clear of the rocky island. 

Looking back Gyas saw Cloanthus 

gaining on him and called again. 

'Menoetes! Keep close to the rocks!' 

But Menoetes continued to hold well 

clear and Cloanthus, by steering

etween the Chimaera and the rocky 

island, managed to take the lead and, 

after rounding the rock, headed back 

to the shore across the open sea. Grief 

turned Gyas' very marrow to flame 

and nor where his cheeks free from 

tears of frustration. Forgetting both 

his own position and the safety of his 

crew, he seized the Menoetes by his 

clothes and hurled him headlong 

from the stern into the sea. He himself 

then took his place at the helm and, 

cheering on his rowers, tried to steer 

the ship closer to the rocky island. 

Menoetes, when at last he rose to 

the surface, weighed down by his 

clothes as he was, struggled through 

the water to the rocky island and took 

a seat on the a dry rock. Everyone 

on the ships had laughed when they 

saw him thrown from the stern and

laughed again as he struggled to reach 

the rocks. Now they laughed as he sat 

on the island and coughed the salty 

brine from his lungs. But, because 

the temporary loss of a helmsman had 

caused the Chimaera to swerve 

sharply to the left, the two ships in the 

rear began to hope they might pass 

the lagging Gyas. Sergestus sailed 

close to the rock but was only half 

a length ahead of Menestheus who 

walked though his ship cheering his 

crew on. 'Now, pull on your oars,' 

he cried, 'men of Prince Hector who 

followed me at Troy's last gasp. Put 

out that strength and spirit I saw you 

exert when we battled the 

mountainous waves of Malea. It is not 

first place that I am looking for 

because that will be decided by 

Poseidon, but let it not be our shame

to come in last. So row with a will 

and keep disgrace at bay!' 

At this every man threw 

themselves on their oar and, as the 

ship's speed increased, rivers of 

sweat began streaming down their 

glistening bodies. 

However, it was a mere chance 

which gave them their wished for 

advantage as Sergestus, blind with 

passion, kept driving his ship nearer 

and nearer to the island. But as he 

sailed too close to the rocks he was 

beset with ill fortune. The oars on one 

side struck the jagged rocks and as the 

men on the other continued to pull on 

their oars, the ship veered sharply to 

one side and then ran aground on 

the submerged rocks. The sailors 

immediately jumped up with a loud 

shout and brought out their long poles

and pointed boat hooks to both try and 

pick the broken oars from the water 

and also push the ship clear of the 

rocks. But Menestheus, rejoicing at 

the sight of the stricken ship, rounded 

the rock and sped across the open sea 

towards the coast. So with 

Menestheus in command, the Shark 

cut through the last part of the race 

and left Sergestus behind; struggling 

with his damaged ship and vainly 

calling for help. He then overtook 

Gyas in the Chimaera and began to 

press Cloanthus with all the speed that 

he could. Indeed the shouting 

redoubled on the Shark as the men 

heaved on their oars and tried to catch 

the Scylla for all thought it would be 

a shame if they failed to overtake her. 

But although on the Scylla all thought 

the prize already theirs, the shark

gradually caught up with her and 

as the ships approached the shore 

both prows were level. It would have 

been a draw had not Cloanthus 

stretched out both his hands and 

called on the gods to hear his vow. 

'Powers of the deep,' he cried, 'all you 

who rule the ocean and on whose 

waters I ride. If you allow me to win 

I will sacrifice on your altars a snow 

white bull and throw the entrails far 

into the sea. I will also pour five 

goblets of the finest wine into your 

briny water.' Deep down among the 

billows he was heard by many, 

including all the Nereids and also the 

maiden Panopea and so Father 

Portunus himself sent a swell which 

pushed the ship forward and gave 

her the victory. 

Once the Scylla had passed the

finish line Anaeas proclaimed 

Cloanthus the winner and placed a 

garland upon his head. He then gave 

to each member of the crew a gift of 

his choice; be it a bullock, a barrel 

of wine or a talent of silver. To 

Cloanthus he further gave a scarf 

around which ran a length of 

Meliboean purple and was 

embroidered with a picture which 

showed a royal boy on lofty Ida 

being snatched up by an eagle while 

his aged parents stretched out their 

hands in vain and the dogs at their 

heels barked furiously. To 

Menestheus he gave a cuirass of 

linked bronze chain threaded with 

gold which he himself had stripped 

from Demoleos on the banks of the 

Simois. It was so heavy that his two 

servants; Phegeus and Sagaris, could

arely support its weight but 

Demoleos, with it on his breast, had 

often driven the Trojans in flight 

before him. To Gyas, who came in 

third, he gave a pair of brazen 

cauldrons and two cups of wrought 

silver. 

As soon as all had received their 

prizes Sergestus, who had finally 

managed to dislodge his ship from the 

rocks, brought his crippled vessel in 

to shore minus many oars. To the 

delighted jeers of the onlookers the 

ship limped slowly in and was like a 

serpent which has been surprised on 

the highway by the wheel of a cart 

and has been left for dead. It writhes 

its long body in ineffectual flight 

but although its upper part is all fury 

with eyes blazing and its hissing 

throat reared aloft, its lower part is

disabled by the wound and so cannot 

push the body forward. Such was 

the style in which the damaged ship 

limped slowly through the water. 

However she still managed to enter 

the harbour with sails spread and so 

Anaeas, who was delighted to see the 

ship rescued and the crew brought 

safely back, gave Sergestus a Cretan 

born slave with twin sons at her 

breast. 

After this Anaeas, with many 

following, made his way inland to a 

grassy plain which was surrounded on 

all sides by woods and sloping hills. 

In the centre of the valley was a circle, 

as if of a theatre, and here it was that 

the hero sat himself on a raised stone 

and gave the impression of a king 

sitting on his throne. From this regal 

position he invited contenders for the

foot race and set up the prizes. The 

race was open to all; Sicanians and 

Trojans alike and so the first to step 

forward were Nisus and Euryalus. 

Euryalus was conspicuous for his 

youthfulness and great beauty while 

Nisus was unable to hide the pure love 

he felt for the boy. Then came Diores, 

a royal scion of Priam's illustrious 

stock and after him Salius and Patron 

together; one from Acarnania and the 

other from Tegea but both of 

Arcadian blood. Next came two 

Trinacrian youths; Helymus and 

Panopes who were experienced 

foresters and comrades of Acestes. 

As the competitors crowded round 

him Anaeas stood up. 'Hear what I 

have to say.' He said. 'Not one of 

you shall go away unvalued by me 

and so to every competitor I will

give a pair of Gnossian spears and 

also an axe. But the first three will 

receive special prizes and shall also 

wear wreaths of yellow green olive. 

The first, as conqueror, will receive a 

fine horse. The second an Amazonian 

quiver which is encompassed by a 

broad band of gold and has a buckle 

crowned with a polished jewel. It is 

also full of Thracian arrows. To the 

third, besides the Gnossian spears 

and axe, I will give an Argive 

helmet.' 

This said the competitors quickly 

took their places at the starting line 

and on the signal, all dashed 

forward. Every man, with their eyes 

fixed on the goal, put all their effort 

into the race. Nisus was the first to 

get into the lead as his flowing legs 

seemed carry him forward like the

wind. Behind him, but by a long 

distance, came Salius and then 

Euryalus. After Euryalus came 

Helymus and on his heels came 

Diores who was renowned for his 

stamina and, had the course been 

longer, might even have managed to 

overtake the wind swift Nisus. 

When the runners had rounded 

the mark and were approaching the 

finish line, exerting every muscle and 

panting as they drove themselves 

forward, the ill starred Nisus slid in 

a pool of rotting blood and gore which 

lay where it had been spilt after a 

bullock had been sacrificed the 

previous day. Poor youth, in his 

moment of triumph he lost his footing 

on the slippery soil and fell flat on 

his face; right into the middle of the 

rotting ordure and sacrificial gore. But

he didn't forget his friend Euryalus 

and so he immediately rolled over 

into the path of Salius and brought 

him crashing to the ground. Then, as 

the two leaders lay on the ground 

covered in gore, Euryalus raced past 

them and went on to take first place. 

Thanks to his friend he was the 

winner and loudly cheered by the 

spectators. After him came Helymus 

while Diores took third prize. 

But once he had got to his feet 

Salius began raising a clamour and 

insisting that the prize, which he had 

lost through a foul, be restored to him. 

However, because of the tears he 

began to shed so gracefully and the 

greater loveliness of his form, 

Euryalus was supported by the 

popular voice. Diores also backed 

Euryalus with loud shouts because,

having come third, if the first prize 

were given to Salius, he would be 

relegated to fourth place and receive 

only an axe and pair of spears. But at 

this commotion father Anaeas cried 

out: 'Your positions remain fixed as 

they were when you crossed the line 

and no one is to change them. But 

allow me to show pity on a friend's 

undeserved misfortune by giving him 

a consolation prize.' 

So saying, he gave Salius the 

enormous hide of a recently killed 

Gaetulian lion which was loaded with 

shaggy hair and had burnished claws 

which shone like gold. At this Nisus 

cried. 'If the vanquished are rewarded 

so handsomely, what prize can I 

claim? My prowess did earn me first 

place and had it not been for unkind 

fortune, I would have won.' With

these words he jokingly displayed his 

body and limbs, all dishonoured by 

the stinking slime and gore. At this 

the gracious chief smiled and bade 

his servants to bring out a fine shield 

made by Didymaon, once wrested 

by the Argives from the Trojans 

under Poseidon's hallowed gate and 

later recovered and this he gave to 

the illustrious youth. 

The trophies having been duly 

presented Anaeas put out the prizes 

for the next contest. 'Now,' he called 

out, 'whoever has courage and a 

vigorous mind in his breast, let him 

step forward and bind on the gloves. 

To the winner I will give this bullock 

with its gilded horns and to the 

vanquished, as a consolation prize, 

this bronze sword and splendid 

helmet.' Almost before he had

finished speaking the enormous Dares 

rose to his feet and to loud applause, 

began preparing himself for the fight. 

While Troy had still withstood the 

might of the Achaian horde he had 

been a champion who used to enter 

the lists with Paris and once he had 

been forced to fight by the tomb of the 

mighty Prince Hector when he 

encountered the great conqueror 

Butes; a man who carried his 

enormous bulk to the field with all 

the pride of his Begbrycian blood. 

But Dares had struck him down and 

stretched him out in death on the 

yellow sand. Such were the powers 

of Dares and, as he lifted his arms 

to the crowd, he proudly displayed his 

broad shoulders and gigantic muscles. 

He also began savagely punching the 

air with his fists so that any contender

might know what to expect if they 

dared to challenge him. Not a single 

man had the courage to stand and so, 

after a while, when he thought that no 

one would take him on, he grasped 

the bullock by the right horn with his 

left hand and turned to Anaeas. 

'Goddess-born,' he said, 'if no one 

dares to fight me, how long must I 

wait? How long will you keep me 

from my prize? Give but the word and 

I will carry off this bullock right now.' 

No one wanted to risk being 

pressured or tricked into fighting the 

champion and so everyone shouted 

out their approval and called for Dares 

to be given the prize. 

But as the men were clamouring 

for Dares to be given the prize, 

Acestes turned to Entellus who was 

sitting next to him on the grass.

'Entellus,' he said with sly humour, 

'you were once known as the best of 

boxers and bravest of heroes, but it 

seems as if all that counts for 

nothing now. How can you sit here 

and watch the prize being carried off 

without a blow? What happened to 

that mighty champion Eryx used to 

praise so often? And what about all 

those prizes which sit in your home? 

Are they all just meaningless 

trinkets now? 

'Fear, alas,' Entellus replied, 'has 

not extinguished my ambition nor my 

love of praise. No, that thug doesn't 

frighten me. But alas, my blood has 

been chilled by the frost of age and 

my strength isn't what it used to 

be. Nevertheless, had I now the 

strength I once had, that braggart 

asleep on the ground would be a

glory to me and I would not have 

needed a fine bullock to bring me into 

the ring. No! I am not interested in 

prizes but age weighs me down and 

begs me sit quietly while Dares takes 

home the prize.' At this he paused 

for a moment to reflect on what he 

had said but then, rising to his feet, 

he threw into the ring the pair of 

enormous gauntlets which the fiery 

Eryx was wont to use in combat. 

Every man was amazed by the sight 

of them, especially as the hitting 

surfaces had been hardened with lead 

and bronze and so there were few 

who could survive a single blow from 

them. Dares, more astonished than 

all the rest, instantly recoiled at the 

sight and Anaeas, when he picked 

them up from the ground to have a 

closer look, was dumbfounded by

oth their size and weight. 

However, before he had a chance 

to speak Entellus spoke up. 'Has 

anyone here,' he asked, 'ever seen 

mightier weapons? These gauntlets 

were once owned by the mighty 

Herakles, son of Zeus, and have 

fought in many fatal combats. After 

passing through many hands they 

were eventually inherited by Eryx 

who also used them to fight with and, 

if you look, you can still see the stains 

of blood and sprinkled brains. He 

used them when he killed the great 

Alkides and I have also used them 

when fresher blood ran through my 

veins and the hated snows of age 

were not yet sprinkled on my brow.' 

He paused for a moment to look 

around at the faces gazing up at him 

before continuing. 'Nevertheless, if

Dares the Trojan refuses to stand up 

to these gauntlets, I will make the 

contest even. I will spare him the bull 

hides of Eryx provided that he also 

takes off his Trojan gauntlets.' So 

saying he flung his double garment 

from his shoulders and displayed 

his gigantic body, which although not 

young, had not yet started to become 

withered with age. 

The spectators were thrilled by 

the prospect of a fight and so Anaeas 

had two pairs of equal gauntlets 

brought out and bound around the 

hands of each contender. Then the 

two men raised their hands in the air 

and, keeping their heads drawn back 

to avoid becoming the victim of an 

unexpected blow, let their gauntlets 

meet in the middle and provoke battle. 

One was quicker on his feet and had

the confidence of his youth while the 

other, although his feet were heavy, 

had skill and experience. As the 

fight progressed both men rained 

blows on each other and the gauntlets 

kept playing on ear and temple while 

cruel, well placed blows often made 

teeth chatter. Entellus had a tendency 

to stand heavily on his feet and as 

the fight progressed, heavy panting 

also began to shake his great frame. 

But despite this his skill enabled him 

to avoid many of his opponents blows 

with only slight movements of his 

head or body. His rival, on the other 

hand, was like a general who attacks 

a high walled town by trying this 

approach and then that and then, after 

reconnoitring the whole stronghold, 

plies it with an endless number of 

varied assaults; all in vain. However,

after the fight had been raging around 

the ring for a while, Entellus raised up 

his right hand to strike, but other's 

quick eye saw the blow coming and 

dodged out of range. This caused 

Entellus, who had put his whole 

force behind the blow, to lose his 

balance and fall to the ground. 

Nevertheless, despite his age, he 

quickly began climbing back onto 

his feet and mighty roar came from 

the watching crowd while Acestes 

ran into the ring and helped his aged 

friend to stand. But undaunted by 

this setback Entellus came back into 

the fight fiercer than ever. His 

former strength had been 

reawakened by the sting of his shame 

and so, all on fire, he drove at Dares 

with repeated blows and forced him 

back across the ring. The blows, lefts

and rights in rapid combinations, 

rained on the stricken Dares who 

eventually stopped retreating and, 

covering his face with his arms, just 

stood and hoped that the torrent of 

pain would stop. Seeing this Anaeas 

jumped into the ring so as to put an 

end to the fight and rescue the 

gasping Dares from certain death. 

'Entellus!' he cried. 'My good friend, 

what monstrous madness has seized 

you? Can you not see that Dares has 

lost the power to think and can no 

longer defend himself? Only his 

gigantic size has prevented you from 

knocking him senseless to the 

ground. Give way to heaven and let 

the man live; for the gods have 

already made you the victor.' 

These words put an end to the 

fight and Dares, who swayed

drunkenly on his feet, had to be 

supported by his comrades as they led 

him gently from the ring while he 

spat out clots of blood and gore 

mixed with broken teeth. Once they 

had laid him on the grass in a secluded 

spot one of them went to collect 

the helmet and sword and at this 

admission of defeat, the conqueror, 

exulting in his victory, turned to 

Anaeas. 'Goddess-born,' he said, 'let 

the survivors of Troy look upon 

Dares, whom you have just saved 

from death, and note the strength 

which once dwelt in my frame.' Then 

putting on one of the gauntlets of Eryx 

on his right hand, he stood in front of 

his prize, raised up his arm and drove 

his fist into its forehead. The gauntlet 

crashed down on the bullock's head, 

shattered the skull and drove the

pieces of bone into its brain. Then, 

standing astride the dead animal 

which had collapsed at his feet the 

victor cried. 'This life, Eryx, I render 

to thee as a better substitute for that 

of Dares who thought he could 

conquer the man you trained. But 

from now and forever I resign both 

the gauntlets and the game.' 

The boxing contest having been 

settled Anaeas set out the prizes for 

the next tournament and called for 

those who wanted to try their luck 

at archery. He ordered the mast from 

the Centaur taken down and set up 

some distance away with a fluttering 

dove tied to it by a cord for the 

target. The casting of lots decided 

that Hippocoon, son of Hyrtacus, 

would be the first to loose his arrow. 

Second would be Menestheus who

already wore an olive wreath as a 

result of having captained the Shark 

to second place in the boat race. 

Third would be Eurytion, a brother 

of Prince Pandaros; the man who had 

been tricked by Pallas Athene into 

destroying the truce between the 

Achaians and Trojans and later, 

when fighting alongside Anaeas, 

had fallen to Diomedes. Last came 

Acestes who, although no longer 

young, still felt that his skill would 

make him a match for the younger 

men. The order having been settled 

Hippocoon took his place at the line 

and let his arrow fly through the 

heavens. But it was a miss because 

instead of striking the dove, the arrow 

stuck quivering in the mast. After 

him Menestheus drew his bowstring 

back to his chest and let his arrow

fly. Alas, his arrow also missed but 

so close to the bird did it come that 

it cut the cord which tethered it to the 

mast. Away the bird flew towards 

the south and the murky clouds which 

had begun to gather in the distance 

and at this, quick as thought, 

Eurytion breathed a prayer to his 

brother's spirit and fixed his eye 

upon the bird. After drawing the 

string of his brother's great bow 

back to his chest, he let his hungry 

arrow fly. It leapt from the bow in 

pursuit of the fluttering dove and 

did not miss its mark for, after arching 

high up into the sky, it pierced the 

bird on its way back to the ground 

and down she fell; bringing the arrow 

back to earth with her body while 

leaving her life in the sky above. 

Everyone, astonished by the shot,

cheered loudly and although one or 

two remarked on the similarity 

between this contest and the one 

which had taken place at the funeral 

games of Patroklos, the great friend 

of Achilles, all agreed that Eurytion 

was the winner of the contest. But 

Acestes had still not fired his arrow 

and so had not had a chance to 

display his skill. But even though he 

didn't have a target to aim at, he let 

his arrow fly into the sky and the eyes 

of the spectators were met by an 

amazing sight; the story of which 

would be passed from parent to child 

for many generations to come. The 

arrow, as it soared high up into the 

sky and flew towards the clouds, 

caught fire and everyone was able to 

mark its trail by the flame. 

Spellbound, everyone watched as the

flaming arrow grew smaller and 

smaller and then vanished completely 

into the insubstantial air. So aghast 

were they at what they had seen they 

all stood rooted to the spot and it was 

some time before any of them 

recovered their wits. 

Anaeas was the first to regain his 

composure and such was his delight 

at the amazing sight he had just 

witnessed, he clasped Acestes to his 

chest. 'The mighty monarch of 

Olympus,' he cried, 'has ordained 

that with your arrow you have earned 

yourself a special prize. 

Consequently I will give you 

something which is of great value to 

me because it belonged to my father: 

a beautiful bowl embossed with 

figures which a long time ago Cisseus 

gave to my father as a testimony of

his love.' 

So saying Anaeas proclaimed 

Acestes to be the finest of all archers 

and after placing the bowl in his 

hands, he crowned his brow with 

verdant bays. This delighted 

everyone and even Eurytion, who had 

been the one to bring the bird from 

the sky, did not begrudge the old man 

his pre-eminence. The second prize 

was given to the Menestheus who had 

cut the cord and the third to 

Hippocoon whose arrow still stuck in 

the mast. 

The prizes had been given out 

Anaeas went up to Epytides, the 

guardian and companion of Ascanius, 

and whispered in his ear. 'Go now 

and tell Ascanius that if his company 

of boys is ready, he is to bring his 

cavalry onto the field and show

himself in arms.' He then called for 

the crowd to move back and allow 

plenty of space in the centre of the 

field. As soon as this had been 

done the boys came prancing in on 

well-trained steeds in even, 

disciplined lines which gladdened the 

heart of every father watching. After 

passing the gathered chivalry of 

Sicania and Troy the boys levelled 

their spears and continued to parade 

around the field. After this, in a 

glittering show, the group broke into 

three companies, twelve boys in each. 

The first was led by a young Priam 

who revived his grandfather's name 

and was a son of Polites. He rode a 

light brown Thracian steed dappled 

with spots of white and white on the 

extremes of his prancing feet and 

also on his forehead. The second was

led by Atys, a friend of Ascanius and 

from whom was to come the house of 

Roman Atii. Third, and surpassing 

them all in beauty, came Ascanius 

on a Sidonian steed which had been 

given to him by Queen Dido in 

testimony of her love. The rest of 

the boys rode Trinacrian horses 

from the stables of Acestes and they 

were greeted by loud applause as 

they rode around the ring; though 

some began to worry in case one of 

the youths should lose their balance 

and fall to the ground. However, once 

the riders had made a circuit of the 

field and enjoyed the looks they 

received from the envious eyes of 

their friends, Epytides gave the signal 

and in regular order all the boys 

turned their horses in towards the 

centre and began galloping across the

field. Everyone was amazed at the 

youths' ability to stay on their 

galloping mounts and, as he watched, 

Anaeas began to wonder if there 

wasn't some way in which a warrior 

might be firmly secured to a horse so 

he could fight from its back in a 

battle without having to worry about 

falling off. It was, alas, only a fleeting 

thought which had crossed his mind 

many times before and to which there 

didn't appear to be an answer and so 

he turned his attention back to the 

boys as they raced forward. As he 

watched one company wheeled to the 

right, another to the left while the 

third carried straight on. After that 

the two companies which had 

wheeled took up their positions at 

each end of the field and charged 

each other with spears levelled. Four

times the two companies charged each 

other and the spectators were 

horrified in case the horses collided or 

one of the boys was injured or killed 

by a spear. But each time the riders 

passed each other safely and, when 

they reached the end of the field, they 

wheeled their mounts and charged 

again. When this display was over, 

all three companies rode slowly 

towards each other and as they met, 

each rider weaved his horse in and 

out of the horses in the other 

companies. Even as men tell of that 

old labyrinth in lofty Crete which is 

cunningly woven with high walls and 

a thousand paths which wind around 

until the traveller is completely 

baffled by the maze and has no idea 

of where they are or how to return, 

in such a way did these sons of

Dardanus interlace the movements 

of their steeds and leave the spectators 

both confused and amazed. In later 

years, when he built the great walls 

of Alba the Long, Ascanius revived 

the exercise and taught the early 

Latins to perform it as he and the 

surviving youths of Troy had done in 

earlier years. The men of Alba taught 

it to their sons and from them mighty 

Rome received its great tradition of 

disciplined horsemanship. 

But while the boys were busy 

displaying their skills, Fortune exchanged 

her old faith for new because 

Juno, who had been infuriated by her 

failure to turn the city of Carthage 

into a great new empire dedicated to 

her, renewed her hatred for the 

Trojans and sent Iris down to the ships 

to cause trouble. Iris, the celestial

messenger and maid, sped down from 

Olympus to the fleet of Ilios in a 

blaze of colour and when she got 

there, she found the Trojan dames 

on the beach weeping for the lost 

Anchises, but as they wept, they 

gazed one and all at the frightening 

sea. 'Alas, that my wearied soul 

should still have so many waters to 

cross,' was the cry of almost every 

heart and all yearned for a city and a 

home which would put an end to their 

wanderings. When she saw this, Iris, 

who when bidden to by the vindictive 

Queen of Heaven, was no novice at 

causing trouble, alighted among them 

and, after leaving aside her heavenly 

body, she took on the shape and 

form of Beroe, the aged wife of 

Doryclus of Tmaros who had once 

had both a name and children in Troy.

In this guise she stood in the midst of 

the Trojan women and cried out. 

'Wretched women, not to have been 

killed under the walls of Troy or 

dragged off into slavery by the 

Achaians. What worse fate has 

fortune in store for us? This is the 

eighth spring since the fall of Troy 

and still we are being driven over 

unfriendly seas. But wherever we go, 

Italy always seems to recede and we 

are cruelly tossed from wave to wave. 

But now we are in the land of 

brother Eryx who was a Trojan and 

Acestes is our ancient friend. So why 

don't we stay here and begin digging 

the foundations to a new city? Oh my 

country! Oh gods of our homes who 

were snatched in vain from the foe! 

Shall we never live in a city with the 

name of Troy again? Shall we never

on earth see the streams which Hector 

loved; his Skamandros and his 

Simois?' At this the goddess paused 

and turned her hypnotic gaze on the 

women who surrounded her. Then 

she cried. 'Come, we have sailed for 

long enough! Join me in burning 

these accursed ships for in my sleep 

I am sure I saw the likeness of 

Kassandra the seer put blazing 

torches into my hands. After she had 

done this she said in that voice we all 

knew so well, "Here and only here 

should you look for a new Troy 

because here and only here do you 

have a future. If you are not to die on 

a storm tossed sea while searching 

for a land which doesn't exist, the 

hour for action has come." Then she 

pointed to the group of altars at 

which we now worship, all of which,

like now, had a fire burning in front 

of them and said, "See, here are four 

altars dedicated to Poseidon who 

himself gives you the fire which will 

finally build you both a city and a 

home."' 

So saying Iris snatched a 

burning brand from one of the fires 

and hurled it towards the ships. The 

women gazed at her in confusion but 

then the eldest of all, Pyrgo, who had 

been a royal nurse to King Priam's 

many sons, cried out. 'This is not 

Beroe the wife of Doryclus! Look 

at those signs of heavenly beauty 

and also at those glowing eyes. Look 

at her majestic presence and listen 

to the beauty of her voice. Just a 

short while ago I left Beroe who 

is sick and frail and deeply 

distressed by her inability to pay

homage to Anchises.' 

But although the matrons heard 

her words, the goddess robbed them 

of meaning and so every eye began 

looking on the ships with evil intent. 

Every heart was torn between a 

yearning for a home of its own and 

the voice of destiny which bid it 

search for a distant realm. At this 

the goddess knew her work had been 

done and so, leaving the women 

maddened by the thought of having to 

spend endless years on stormy seas, 

she soared up into the sky and 

returned to Olympus. However, just 

as she left the women began shrieking 

and, snatching burning brands 

from the altars, they hurled them at 

the vessels. This delighted 

Hephaistos, God of Fire, who took 

off at full speed along the line of

ships and began his work of 

destruction. But the news of the fleet 

on fire was carried quickly to the men 

at the remembrance games by the 

cloud of thick black smoke which 

rose up into the sky and when they 

saw it, everyone started to wonder 

what had happened. Ascanius was 

the first to realize the smoke 

signalled trouble at the ships and so, 

digging his heels into his horse and 

calling for his friends to follow, he led 

his cavalry down to the beach while 

the men started running after him with 

all the speed they could. When he 

arrived at the beach Ascanius took in 

at a glance what was happening and 

watched in horror as the women 

continued to hurl burning brands at 

the ships. 'What strange madness is 

this, my poor country women?' He

cried. 'I thought for a moment that 

the Argive foe had arrived but now I 

see that it is your own hopes you are 

burning.' At this he took off the 

helmet he had been wearing for the 

sport and, in frustration, flung it on 

the ground. It was just at this moment 

that Anaeas arrived with the main 

body of men at his heels and at the 

sight of them, the matrons took off 

in panic and fled along the beach; 

running this way and that as each tried 

to find a place in which to hide. The 

arrival of their men had broken Iris' 

hypnotic spell and now, as they began 

to realize what they had done, the 

spirit of Juno was exorcised from 

their souls. But despite their horror at 

what they had done and their sorrow, 

the ships continued to burn and no 

matter how hard the men tried to put

the fires out, the Fire God refused to 

let go and roaring flames continued 

to engulf the ships. Seeing the ships 

burn Anaeas tore his fine clothes from 

his back and raised his hands in 

prayer. 'Father Zeus the almighty,' 

he cried. 'is your hatred so great 

that you would destroy the whole 

Trojan race? If you have any regard 

for human suffering, I beg you to save 

the fleet from flame and rescue from 

death the shattered commonwealth of 

Troy. Or else use a thunderbolt to 

send me, this poor wretch who stands 

before you now, to Hades' Halls. But 

whatever you choose to do, let thy 

will be done.' 

Far-sighted Zeus had, however, 

known what Juno had been planning 

and what would eventually happen 

and so, for many hours before Iris had

even visited the fleet, he had been 

gathering the thunder clouds in 

readiness. Consequently, as soon as 

Anaeas had finished praying, he 

unleashed the black tempest and, 

while the rolling thunder pealed 

through both highland and lowland, 

fierce torrents of rain poured down on 

the ships. Such was the deluge that 

every spark the Fire God loved so 

much was quenched and the vessels, 

apart from four, were saved from 

complete destruction. Father Zeus 

still intended Anaeas to reach the land 

of Italy and rebuild the Trojan 

empire. 

However, although most of the 

ships had been saved, Anaeas was so 

devastated by the sight of the damage 

and the burnt out hulks that he 

began to wonder whether he should

continue his quest for Italy or shut 

his ears to the call of Fate and settle 

in the plains of Sicily. But as he 

turned the problem over in his mind, 

old Nautes, whom Tritonian Pallas 

had endowed with wisdom so he 

could perceive the future and warn of 

both heaven's wrath and what 

destiny required, addressed him in 

words of comfort: 'Goddess-born,' 

he said quietly, 'regardless of how 

badly we are treated by our fate, we 

are obliged to pursue it because we 

must win our way through endurance. 

But, before you make a final 

decision, don't be afraid of sharing 

your worries with Acestes because 

he is a son of Dardanos and also has 

the blood of a god in his veins. 

Neither should you be afraid of 

asking him for whatever help you

need because he will not refuse you. 

The loss of four ships means we can't 

take everyone with us, so consign to 

him those who are too weary of the 

ocean to follow your fortunes. The 

old men, the matrons and whoever 

else you think is too weak or 

timorous to withstand the stresses of 

our future. Set these apart and leave 

them here in this land of rest so they 

can build a town of their own and 

honour Acestes by calling it Acesta. 

These words of wisdom only 

angered and confused Anaeas 

because he was deeply disturbed by 

the thought of leaving anyone behind. 

But later that night, as he slept, a 

vision of his father came down from 

heaven and interrupted his dreams. 

'My son,' it said in the voice Anaeas 

knew so well, 'who through years of

hardship has been trained in the 

school of Troy's destiny and who is 

dearer to me than even the life I have 

left, I come at the command of Father 

Zeus who chased the Fire God from 

your ships and looks on your needs 

with pity in his heart. Obey the 

counsel which Nautes has so wisely 

given you. Let only the flower of our 

youth and those who have the 

stoutest hearts follow you to Italy 

because the people you have to battle 

in Latium are hard as stone and skilled 

in warfare. But, because of this, 

before you go there, you must visit 

the infernal halls of Dis and travel 

through the deep shades of Avernus 

until such time as you meet your 

father again. But do not fret for me 

my son, godless Tartarus and its 

spectres of sorrow have no hold on me

for I am in the company of the good 

and dwell in Elysium. After the 

streaming blood of sacrificial cattle 

has unlocked her voice, the virgin 

Sibyl shall point out your way and 

there you will hear of your future and 

the city which fate has in store for 

you. But now I must bid you farewell 

because dark night has reached the 

midst of its swift career and the 

relentless Day Star has touched me 

with the breadth of his panting 

steeds.' 

This said the vision began fading 

into the insubstantial air and as it did 

so Anaeas leapt from his bed and 

tried to clasp his father to his breast. 

'Where are you going?' He cried. 

'Why are you leaving in such haste? 

From whom are you flying? What 

power keeps you from my embrace?'

But having gone the vision 

refused to return and so, after his 

racing heart had slowed and he could 

think rationally again, Anaeas put 

some wood on the slumbering flames 

which burned before the altars and 

honoured the god of Pergamos and 

hoary Vesta by placing food on their 

altars and filling the censer with fresh 

incense. 

His task completed he called his 

friends and told them of his dream 

and of what Father Zeus had 

commanded. He also told them that 

his mind had at last been made up and 

so, with Acestes' help, he arranged 

for the names of all those with hearts 

which heeded not the stir of great 

renown to be transferred to the new 

city's role. Once the decision had 

been made and the survivors of

Troy had been divided into two 

groups, those who were to continue 

the quest for Italy set about repairing 

the ships and making them ready for 

another voyage while those who 

were to stay behind began building 

their new town. Anaeas and Acestes 

marked out the foundations on the 

ground and, by the drawing of lots, 

assigned pieces of land to each person 

and, by so doing, they created a new 

but much smaller Troy. Acestes, a 

true Trojan, was then handed the 

royal sceptre of this new city and 

proclaimed to his assembled senate 

the laws by which the people were 

to live. 

The foundations of the city 

having been established, the whole 

nation stopped to enjoy a nine day 

banquet and on every day, each one

of the altars received their due 

observance. 

But once the banquet was over 

Anaeas was called to the deep once 

more by the repeated whispers of the 

gentle winds. However, as the fleet 

got ready to sail, the shore was 

engulfed with the sound of weeping 

and the prolonged embraces kept the 

ships from the seas they loved so 

much. Now that the time to depart had 

arrived, even the matrons and weaklings 

who had so recently shuddered 

at the very sight of the sea wanted 

to climb aboard the wooden ships 

once more and risk all the dangers 

of the journey. But Anaeas cheered 

them with words of kindness and 

tearfully gave them into the care of 

Acestes who was both his kinsman 

and theirs. Then after ordering the

slaying of three calves to Eryx and an 

ewe lamb to the weather gods, he cut 

the hawsaws and, with his head 

wreathed in olive leaves, stood in the 

prow of his ship and consigned both 

the entrails of the slaughtered animals 

and many cups of sparkling wine to 

the briny water. This pleased the 

Olympians greatly and so a gentle 

wind immediately blew up from the 

stern and pushed the ships towards 

their unknown future while the 

crews, each vying with each, dipped 

their polished blades into the water 

and swept the marble surface. 

Despite the calm waters and 

gentle winds, as the ships made their 

way out into the sea, Aphrodite, who 

was frantic with anxiety for her son, 

went to Poseidon. 'The terrible anger 

of Juno's bottomless heart,' she said,

'forces me to abase myself before you 

in prayer because neither time nor 

the piety of man will ever soften her 

wrath. It is not enough that she, in 

her monstrous malice, has torn the 

heart from the breast of Phrygia and 

burnt the city of Troy to the ground, 

now she pursues the survivors and 

such is her fiendishness, she will 

always seek some way of causing 

them harm. You yourself know that 

in the Libyan waters she raised a 

terrible tempest and sank two of 

their ships by ignoring the will of 

heaven and bribing King Aeolus to 

send the storms which convulsed the 

realm of which you are the master. 

And now, by goading the women to 

crime, she has basely destroyed a part 

of the fleet and so my son has had 

to leave many of his people behind

on an unknown shore. I therefore 

beg that as they sail your waters, you 

allow what remains of the fleet to 

spread its sails in safety and, if my 

prayer is lawful, also let it touch the 

mouth of Laurentian Tiber and find 

the city which has been granted to my 

son by Fate. 

The second son of Kronos and 

lord of the ocean answered her. 'You 

have every right, Queen of Cythera, to 

place your trust in these realms of 

mine; from whence you yourself 

drawest thy birth. I have earned your 

trust as well for have I not often 

checked the madness of the 

Olympians? You may remember that 

when Achilles was routing the 

Trojans and killing them in such an 

orgy of death that their bodies 

choked the rivers and even prevented

Xanthus from threading his way to 

the sea, I myself saved Anaeas from 

death. On that day, when Anaeas 

confronted the mighty son of Peleus 

with weaker arms and weaker aid 

from heaven, I snatched him from 

death and I did that even though my 

whole heart was bent on destroying 

the walls of perjured Troy; walls 

which I myself had built. However, 

as my mind was then, so it is now and 

you can banish your fears because, 

according to your prayer, Anaeas and 

all his crew shall reach the haven of 

Avernus. However, one there must be 

and only one whom your prayers will 

not protect from the briny waters 

because one life, and only one, must 

be given for many.' 

Having soothed the goddess' 

heart with these words the august

Lord of the Sea took a golden yoke 

and yoked his steeds to his chariot. 

The beautiful chariot, which was the 

colour of the ocean and so invisible 

to men, then glided lightly over the 

water's surface and at its approach, 

the waves bowed down while the 

water beneath its wheels remained 

still. As the steeds raced along the 

beings of the sea came up from their 

homes in the deep and swam alongside; 

their hearts filled with joy at 

the presence of their lord and 

master. Along with the enormous 

whales there was the aged Glaucus 

and his followers, Ino's young 

Palaemon, many fast swimming 

Tritons and the whole host of those 

who followed Phorcus while on the 

left swam Thetis of the silver 

slippers, the maiden Panopea, Nesaee,

Spio, Thalia and Cymodoce. 

Meanwhile, on the ships, an 

indefinable something about the 

atmosphere sent a soft thrill of joy 

through the breast of Anaeas and so 

he called for every mast to be raised 

and every sail to be stretched on its 

yardarm. At this command the men, 

all of whom had been infected by the 

same feeling, strained on the ropes 

with a will and in moments the ships 

were being wafted quickly along by 

the stiff winds they loved so much; 

the way being led by Palinurus who 

stood at the helm and shaped the 

fleet's course. 

As light turned to darkness and 

the star studded night approached its 

climax, the men lay down by their 

benches and allowed honeyed sleep 

to engulf their minds. But Palinurus,

who was an experienced sailor and 

knew of the dangers which beset the 

unwary, refused to sleep and kept a 

firm hand on the helm and a watchful 

eye on the stars above. But as he 

guided the fleet through the water 

Poseidon, coming up and sitting on 

the stern alongside him, put these 

words into his mind. 'Palinurus, 

son of Iasus, you have been steering 

the ship all day but the winds are 

breathing evenly and the sea itself is 

steering the fleet, so why not rest 

those exhausted limbs of yours and 

let your weary eyes play truant from 

the toil.' 

But to this temptation Palinurus 

responded. 'What? Are you asking me 

to blind myself to smiling seas and 

sleeping waves? Is that what you 

want me to do? What sailor doesn't

know the seas can be fickle and 

change from a beautiful calm to a 

raging storm in but a moment? 

Would you ask me place my faith in 

the lying winds and deceitful skies 

whose fraud I have so often rued?' 

These words having passed 

through his mind he continued to 

concentrate on steering the ship and 

never once took his hand from the 

rudder or his eye from the stars. But 

at this obstinacy the god waved over 

his head a bough dripping with 

Lethe's dews and drugged with the 

charms of Styx and so, despite 

himself, Palinurus closed his 

swimming eyes. But scarce had 

sudden slumber begun to unstring his 

limbs when the god picked him up and 

effortlessly hurled him over the 

stern. But as sleep carried his

weightless spirit up into the sky 

there were no cries for help, not even 

when his heavy body struck the 

rudder and broke a piece of it off. 

Nevertheless, such was the evenness 

of the wind that even without a 

helmsman the fleet travelled along 

under the protection of Poseidon's 

promise and continued to ride safely 

over the water. But as the ships 

neared the cliffs of the unfriendly 

sirens' isle; under which lay the 

wrecks of many ships and the white 

bones of countless sailors, Anaeas 

perceived the unsteady reel of his 

masterless ship and, racing to the 

stern, found Palinurus missing. 

Quickly taking the helm himself he 

guided the ship past the cliffs which 

remained silent because Poseidon, in 

honour of his promise to Aphrodite

and because he had already given the 

sirens a life to satisfy their yearnings, 

had ordered them to hold their tongues 

while the fleet passed. So, as the ships 

sailed along, the open-eared Anaeas, 

unaware of the great danger from 

which he was being protected, 

mourned the loss of his friend. 

'Victim of a clear sky and calm 

seas,' he cried out, 'you will lie, 

Palinurus, a naked corpse on a beach 

unknown. But you will not be 

forgotten.'

Book VI 

Mourning the loss of his friend 

Anaeas continued guiding the fleet 

onwards and in due time arrived on 

the shores of Euboean Cumae. There 

the crews moored the ships with their 

sterns to the shore after which, with 

that fiery zeal of men who have spent 

many days at sea, they leapt onto 

the Hesperian shore and while some 

quickly started fires, others went to 

look for streams of fresh water. 

Anaeas, after sending Achates to 

fetch the ancient priestess, went to the 

heights on which the altar of Apollo 

was situated and also the vast cavern 

of the dreaded Sibyl: the ancient seer 

into whose breast the god spoke his

own mighty mind and into whose 

eyes he put visions of the future. 

The legend of the temple was that 

Daedalus, daring to trust himself to 

the air on wings of his own making, 

had flown from Minos along an 

unknown way until at last he had 

stood buoyant on top of this Euboean 

hill. Grateful to the land which had 

first received him he dedicated his 

feathery wings to Phoebus Apollo 

and raised a mighty temple on the 

spot. On the doors he painted many 

pictures including one of Androgeos' 

death and also of the Cecrops who 

were cruelly made to pay the penalty 

with the lives of seven of their sons 

and, in the centre of this picture, 

surrounded by terrified youths, stood 

the dreaded urn from which lots of 

death were being drawn. On the other

side of the door were pictures of the 

Gnossian land and also a sequence 

of pictures which told the story of 

Pasiphae's tragic passion for a bull 

and the resulting child; the Minotaur 

who was half man, half brutish 

animal and a monument to 

monstrous love. Other pictures told 

of how the temple was a marvel of 

craftsmanship and its interior maze 

was so inextricable that Daedalus, in 

his pity for the overwhelming 

passion of the royal princess, had 

unravelled the mystery for her by 

using a thread to guide her through 

the dark passageways. There was 

another picture of poor Icarus flying 

high and close to the sun, but although 

the artist had twice tried to represent 

the tragedy in gold, he had failed both 

times.

Anaeas was so fascinated by the 

pictures that he would have spent 

the rest of the day examining them 

had not Achates returned from his 

errand and brought with him 

Deiphobe, the daughter of Glaucus 

and priestess of Phoebus and Diana. 

Without any formality she spoke thus 

to him in a stern voice. 'This is not 

the time to gaze at pictures because 

your present work is to sacrifice 

seven bullocks which have been 

untouched by the yoke and also seven 

of your best sheep.' 

Although taken aback by the 

abruptness of the command Anaeas 

ordered his followers to perform the 

prescribed rites and when this had 

been done, the withered old priestess 

invited them all into the lofty temple. 

One side of the Euboean cliff had

een hollowed out into a cave which 

had a hundred mouths and was approached 

by a hundred broad avenues 

and from these, it was said that a 

hundred voices poured out in 

response to the Sibyl's chants. But 

just as they were on the threshold the 

maiden cried out. 'It is the moment to 

pray to the oracle for the god is here. 

I can feel his presence.' 

As she spoke her whole 

appearance began to undergo a 

change. Her hair broke lose from its 

braid and flew wildly about her head, 

her eyes became bloodshot and 

glaring while her bosom began 

heaving and panting as her turbulent 

soul filled with chaotic passions. 

The men watched as she grew 

larger and larger in front of their eyes 

and as the breath of the divine

presence took over her being, her 

voice suddenly ceased to be that of 

a old woman. In a clear, booming 

new voice she cried. 'What! A laggard 

at praying and making his vows? 

If Prince Anaeas of Troy insists on 

being a laggard, then I have 

nothing to say for only sincere and 

heartfelt prayers will open the lips 

of this shrine.' 

After saying this the priestess fell 

silent and glared at Anaeas and his 

followers. This sent a cold shudder of 

fear running through the iron frames 

of the men who had faced so many 

dangers and hardships but the king 

began pouring out his very soul in 

prayer. 'Phoebus, you who have 

always been the friend of Troy, even 

in her greatest agonies. You who 

drew the Dardan bow of Prince Paris

and guided his arrow to the heel of 

the terrifying Achilles; the only open 

spot left by Hephaiastos' armour. 

With your guidance we have sailed all 

the seas and faced the Massylian 

tribes who have been thrust by nature 

out of view and we have also 

crossed the dangerous quicksands 

which surround their coasts. Now, 

although at last our hands are on 

the flying skirts of Italy, this has 

only been possible because you have 

been constantly at our side. You have 

also spared the gods and goddesses 

of Pergamus whose eyes were 

affronted by the savagery of Achaia 

and fall Troy. And thou, prophetess, 

who can read the future as easily as 

the present, tell me what is to happen 

for I am not asking for a crown 

which Fate does not owe me. Grant

a settlement in Latium to the sons of 

Dardanos and their wandering gods. 

To Phoebus and his Trivian sister I 

will, in my gratitude, set up a temple 

of solid marble and appoint feast days 

in their honour. For thee too, 

priestess, I will build an august shrine 

and there I will lodge the oracles and 

the secret words of destiny which 

you will speak to my nation and I will 

also consecrate chosen men to your 

service. Only commit not your 

prophesies to leaves lest they become 

the sport of whirling winds. Utter 

them with thine own lips, I implore 

thee.' 

But the prophetess, who was not 

yet Phoebus' willing slave, went 

storming around the cavern in a frenzy 

as though she hoped to unseat the 

mighty god from her bosom. But

Phoebus plied the bit in her mouth 

more sharply and eventually her fury 

began to flag and, after taming her 

savage soul, Phoebus moulded her to 

his will. At this the hundred mighty 

doors of the chamber flew open of 

their own accord and wafting through 

the air came the voice of prophecy. 

'Your perils at sea are over at last but 

on land heavier toils remain in store. 

The sons of Dardanos will come to 

the realm of Lavinium and so from 

this anxiety you should set your 

minds at rest. But think not that there 

will be joy at your arrival for war, 

savage war, is in store for you and 

the foaming Tiber will run red with 

the blood of your warriors. That is 

the vision I see. But, be warned, 

although you will not lack for a 

Simois, Xanthus or Dorian camp,

another Achilles awaits you in 

Latium and he also is the son of a 

goddess. Nor will Juno, daughter of 

Kronos and Queen of Heaven ever 

forget the judgment of Paris and her 

hatred for Troy and because of this 

you will be forced to subdue all the 

cities which are now in Italy. An alien 

bride and a foreign bed will again 

bring you troubles but you, in so far 

as your destiny allows, will not 

yield to these afflictions but will 

instead go forth all the bolder to 

meet them. However, little as you 

dream it now, your first glimpse of 

safety and rest will come to you from 

an Argive town.' 

Such were the words which 

rebounded from the cavern walls and 

as soon as her frenzy had abated and 

the madness of her lips grew calm,

Anaeas began to speak. 'Nothing you 

have said, dread maiden, rises to 

mine eyes anything new or unlooked 

for. I have already been warned about 

all the dangers you prophesy.' He 

paused for a moment to gather his 

thoughts and then continued. 

'Nevertheless, I do have one prayer to 

make because I have heard that it is 

from here that a man can pass into the 

realm of the infernal monarch. 

Therefore I beg you to be my guide 

and unlock the sacred doors so I can 

enter the presence of my beloved 

father who I rescued from the midst 

of our foe and bore away on my 

shoulders through flames and a 

tempest of spears and arrows. He 

was the companion of my journey 

and despite his feeble frame, he 

shared with me all the storms of the

ocean as well as all the other terrors 

we encountered. But now he has come 

to me in a vision and asked me to 

visit him in the underworld. So I beg 

you to pity both the son and the father 

and grant me thy grace because it 

was not for nothing that Hecate set 

you over the groves of Avernus. If 

Orpheus, with the help of his Thracian 

lyre had the power to fetch his wife 

back from the shade and if Pollux 

redeemed his brother by dying and 

then bringing him back along those 

paths of darkness, why trouble to also 

talk of Theseus or the great Alkides? 

After all, my line, like theirs, is from 

Zeus most high.' 

Such was his prayer as his hands 

clasped the altar, but he had barely 

finished when the prophetess began 

to speak again. 'Heir to the blood of

the gods and son of Anchises.' She 

said. 'Going down to Avernus is easy 

because all day and all night the gates 

of gloomy Hades stand open and 

unbarred. But to retrace your footsteps 

and win your way back to the upper 

air is another matter altogether and is 

something few have achieved. There 

have been a few who had the 

power; favourites of Father Zeus or 

those who themselves sprang from 

gods and were exalted by heaven. But 

the whole of the intervening space is 

possessed by dark woods and 

encircled by the black windings of 

Cocytus' stream. Nevertheless, if 

your heart's yearning is so great and 

your madness so strong that you 

would try to twice cross the Stygian 

pool and also twice gaze on the 

dreadful night of Tartarus, hear what

must first be done. There is a tree 

from which springs a branch of gold 

and is dedicated to the service of the 

Juno of the shades. It is hidden 

somewhere in the forest but none can 

pierce the subterranean darkness 

until they have first gathered that 

leafy sprout of gold. Fair Proserpine 

has ordained that this be brought her 

as her own proper tribute and if you 

pluck one twig off, another of gold 

just as pure is unfailingly there. So let 

your eye be keen to search for it and 

when at last you find what you seek, 

let your hand be quick to pluck it. If 

you have been called by Fate it will 

follow your touch with willingness 

and ease, but if you have not been 

called, no strength of yours will 

remove it from its tree and neither 

will any knife or sword cut it free.

But besides this, I see that you have 

the breathless corpse of a friend 

which lies unburied. Alas, you know 

it not, but while you have been asking 

heaven's will and lingering on this, 

our threshold, an accident has tainted 

your whole fleet with the air of death. 

Him you must first consign to his 

proper place in a grave and afterwards 

you must make a sacrifice of black 

cattle at the altar as this will be the 

expiation which will open your way. 

If Fate so decrees, you will then at 

last look on the groves of Styx and 

realms untrodden by the living.' 

When she finished speaking, 

Anaeas, with a heavy heart and 

steadfast gaze, left the cave and went 

back into the sunshine. But as he 

returned to the shore with the ever 

faithful Achates at his side, many

were the thoughts they exchanged as 

they wondered about who the dead 

comrade might be. However, as soon 

as they arrived on the beach they 

chanced upon Misenus, son of 

Aeolus, lying on the sand, snatched by 

a death which should have spared 

him. Misenus the musician who had 

been able to bring men to the brink 

of tears or, with his clarion call, kindle 

in their breasts the War God's 

flame. He had once been a follower 

of Prince Hector and a warrior who 

was renowned for his skill with both 

the trumpet and spear. But after the 

conquering arm of Achilles had 

robbed Hector of life, he made 

himself a comrade of Anaeas and nor 

had he found his new standard to be 

meaner than the old. But this day, just 

as he had been bending over the

water and making his hollow shell 

ring out over the waters, Triton, 

roused to jealousy by the beauty of 

his music, seized him, if the story 

be true, and plunged his face in the 

waves which lapped the rocks. After 

finding the body, Anaeas and his 

followers all stood round uttering 

loud cries and, louder than all the 

rest, were the those of King Anaeas 

who always suffered greatly at the 

loss of one of his people. Having 

expressed their grief they set about the 

Sibyl's bidding and, as quickly as they 

could, they began preparing the 

funeral which would carry his spirit 

across the waters of Tartarean 

Acheron. 

They began by cutting down 

oaks and other trees in the ancient 

forest and these they rolled down the

mountain side to the beach. 

Anaeas, in this, as in other labours, cut 

as much wood as any other man 

and as he laboured, he was quick 

to encourage those who worked with 

praise and criticise the slackers who 

tried to avoid the heavy toil. Once the 

wood had been gathered and taken 

down to the shore, he looked around 

in sad silence and gave utterance to 

a prayer. 'Oh,' he cried, 'that at this 

moment, wherever it is in this dense 

forest, the golden branch would 

reveal itself to me because I see in 

Misenus that the priestess has 

spoken truly.' 

But scarcely had he finished 

speaking when, as if by chance, a pair 

of white doves came down from high 

in the sky and settled on the ground 

by his feet. At once the mighty chief

ecognised his mother's birds and 

quickly breathed a second prayer' 

'Oh guide me on my way and as you 

fly, direct my steps to that grove 

where the precious branch of gold 

casts its shade upon the ground!' 

Having said this he took a step 

towards the birds and watched to see 

what they did and in which direction 

they flew. As they took fright and 

raced off into the sky, they flew with 

such speed that it was all Anaeas 

could do to keep them in sight. 

Passing the great jaws of the cave the 

birds glided down through the clear 

sky and eventually settled on a branch 

that was above another which flashed 

with the gleam of gold. It took some 

time but when he finally caught up 

with the birds the exhausted Anaeas, 

in his eagerness, snatched the twig

from the tree and was about to run 

with it to the home of the Sibyl when 

he remembered that he had first to 

bury the body of Misenus. 

Arriving back at the shore he 

found the men paying their last 

tributes to the lifeless body and while 

some were building up the great pile 

of wood, others were heating 

cauldrons of water so they could 

wash the corpse before anointing it 

with oil and sweet-smelling creams. 

But as everyone worked at their 

task, their wails rang out across the 

pearl blue sea and Anaeas joined in 

the lamentations. 

Once the dirge was over, 

Minesus' best friends carried the bier 

to the top of the pyre and covered 

it with purple garments and then, in 

ancestral fashion and with eyes

averted, they applied the torch to the 

bottom of pile. The great pile of wood 

quickly caught alight and while the 

fire blazed, those who watched 

made offerings of wine, incense, oil 

and sacrificial food. 

In the evening, when the fire 

had died down, they drenched the 

burning embers with sparkling wine 

and Corynaeus, gathering the white 

bones of his friend, placed them in an 

urn. He also spoke the last solemn 

words and, from a bowl of pure 

water and using a branch of olive, 

he sprinkled each of the dead man's 

comrades three times. Finally Anaeas 

ordered a monument of massive size 

to be built and even today it 

remembers Misenus by retaining his 

name. But on that sorrowful day his 

comrades honoured their friend by

placing his arms, his oar and also his 

famed trumpet on its top. 

The funeral having been 

completed Anaeas and his followers 

went with the Sibyl into the gloom of 

the forest to where there was a deep 

cavern with a giant, yawning throat. 

Over this spot no winged creature 

could fly unharmed because of the 

streams of dark, poisonous breath 

which wafted up into the sky from 

its mouth. The Argives had given this 

forbidding place the name of Aornos 

and it was here, after a fire had been 

lit, that the priestess began her 

ceremonies. She started by placing the 

four black skinned bullocks Anaeas 

had brought in their sacrificial places 

and, while emptying wine over their 

brows, she plucked from between 

their horns the hairs of the crown

and these, with loud cries to Hecate 

and Erebus, she threw into the 

hallowed flame as the first fruits of 

worship. One of Anaeas' followers 

then put a knife to the throat of the 

beasts while another caught the 

streaming blood in a bowl. With his 

own sword Anaeas killed a lamb of 

sable fleece for the Furies' mother and 

her mighty sister and also a barren 

heifer for dread Proserpine. After 

this, to the Stygian Monarch he 

constructed an altar of stone and on 

top of it built a blazing fire. On the 

flames he placed the carcasses of 

the bulls and while they burned, 

he poured fat oil over the entrails and 

so caused the flames to leap high into 

to the air. But as the goddess of dawn 

began to warn of her coming, there 

was a rumble from beneath their

feet and the ground started shaking. 

'Quick,' cried the priestess turning to 

the followers of Anaeas, 'go from here 

with your unhallowed feet and rid 

this grove of your presence. But you,' 

she said pointing at Anaeas, 'the hour 

has come for us to leave and so now 

is the time for a stout heart.' With no 

more said she flung herself into the 

mouth of the cave and Anaeas, 

without hesitating for a moment, 

followed her in. 

As they passed through the cave 

and went down into the gloom 

beyond, they entered into the ghostly 

realms of Hades' great halls. But 

here Hades was known as Pluto and 

before the threshold to the mouth of 

his realm, Agony and the fiends of 

Remorse had made their lair. 

Alongside them lived Wan Diseases,

Woeful Age, Terror and the Hunger 

which prompts a person to sin. 

Terrible Want was also there and next 

to her, too loathsome to even look 

at, were Suffering and Death. After 

this came Sleep, Death's blood 

brother and crouched by the gate were 

the spirits of Guilty Joys, Deadly War 

and Frantic Strife. 

In the midst of the great hall 

stood a massive elm with its aged 

arms outspread and which, so rumour 

tells, was the chosen seat of 

countless, terrifying nightmares; each 

of which clung to one of the leaves. 

There were also a hundred evil beasts 

of diverse kinds, each one both 

terrifying in its presence and 

repulsive to look at. Centaurs stood 

in the entrance along with two 

Scyllas; Briareus the hundred handed

and a portent of Lerna which hissed 

fearfully. The chimera, with its fire 

breathing, dragon-like face and tail 

which was a deadly serpent was also 

there as were Gorgons, Harpies, and a 

semblance of the being with three 

bodies; three heads, six legs and six 

arms. As all these repulsive beings 

began to slowly advance on him, 

Anaeas drew his sword in alarm and, 

had his companion not warned him 

that they were nothing but thin 

unbodied spirits with no substance, 

he would have rushed in among them 

and slashed vainly at their shadows 

with his blade. 

At the back of the hall there was 

a tunnel which led down to the waters 

of Tartarean Acheron whose stream, 

churning mud in its monstrous 

depths, was all aglow. These waters

were guarded by Charon, the grisly 

ferryman who was frightful to look 

at and emitted a putrid smell. His 

frayed and grubby clothes hung 

from his gaunt shoulders while his 

eyes were a mass of angry flame and, 

although a sail hung limply from the 

mast, he always had to use his own 

hand to push his craft through the 

water with a pole. His job was to 

ferry the souls of the dead across the 

water and although he himself was 

old in years, a god's old age is green 

and vigorous and, because of the 

multitude which waited for him on 

the bank, he was never allowed to rest 

from his labours. Waiting for him 

were matrons, the souls of mighty 

warriors who had been killed in 

battle, boys, unwedded maidens and 

children who had been laid out in

death in front of their distraught 

parents' eyes. So many were there in 

fact that they were like the leaves 

which fall in a dense forest during 

autumn's early cold. There they all 

stood with arms yearningly 

outstretched towards the further 

shore and each praying that he might 

be the next to be carried across. But 

the grim boatman always selected 

those he took on board. Some he 

beckoned with his crooked finger 

while others he drove away and bared 

from the bank. Anaeas, startled by 

the tumult and the countless number 

of souls waiting to cross cried out. 

'Tell me, dread maiden, what does 

this stream mean? What are all 

these spirits of the dead searching 

for and what decides who shall cross 

and who shall not?'

'Son of Anchises and offspring of 

heaven,' answered the aged priestess, 

'the multitude you see on this side of 

the river is helpless and tombless. 

Charon is the ferryman and those who 

cross the river are the buried. He 

can not ferry anyone from this 

dreadful bank until after their bones 

have found a place of rest. Many 

wander aimlessly about on this side of 

the bank for up to a hundred years 

and then, when nature at last buries 

their bones, they embark and see 

again the flood of their longing.' 

Hearing this dreadful tale Anaeas 

paused for a moment to think deeply 

and pity the lot of those prevented 

from crossing. As he looked around, 

he saw Leucaspis and Orontes, the 

two chieftains who had sailed with 

him from Troy but whose ships, just

efore they reached Queen Dido's 

city, had been overwhelmed by the 

tempest of King Aeolus. 

He then saw his pilot, Palinurus, 

saddened and in the depths of a great 

depression, moving along with the 

crowd and, although he constantly 

tried to get a place on the ferryman's 

barge, the ferryman kept sternly 

ordering him away from the bank. 

When Anaeas finally recognised his 

unhappy friend he called out. 'Who 

was it, Palinurus, of all the gods, who 

tore you from us and hurled you 

into the sea? Tell me who? Till now 

I have never found Apollo false but 

in this one respect, he has proved a 

fraud because he foretold that you 

would be unharmed on the sea and 

win your way to the Ausonian 

frontier. But this is how he has kept

his word!' 

'Nay, my chief,' replied the 

depressed Palinurus. 'Phoebus told 

you no lie and nor did any god throw 

me into the sea. No! I chanced to 

fall as I guided your course and, as 

I fell, I tore away a part of the rudder 

to which I was clinging like sentry 

to his post. But I felt no fear for my 

own life because I was terrified that 

your ship, shaken loose from her 

ruler's hand, would lose her way and 

find a home on the rocks. But after 

I fell, for three long nights the south 

wind swept me over the vast 

wilderness of the ocean and at last, on 

the fourth dawn, I looked upon Italy 

from the crest of a wave. Stroke by 

stroke I made my way to the shore 

but, just as I reached the beach and 

was laying hold on safety, the savage

natives came on me with sword and 

spear in hand. In their blindness they 

thought they had found a prize and 

so now the sea should be my body's 

home; but the currents and winds 

keep pushing it back on the beach. 

Oh, by heaven's bright sky and 

beautiful sunshine and by your father, 

I beg you to rescue me from this cruel 

fate. Either spread earth upon my 

body and give me leave to cross this 

river or else ask your goddess mother 

to tell of some way in which you 

might stretch out your hand and take 

me with you when you cross the 

water. That way at least, I might find 

in death a place of peace and rest.' 

But when he finished the 

priestess said. 'What demon, 

Palinurus, has set on you so 

monstrous a desire? You, who are

unburied, look on the Stygian water 

and the dread river of the Furies and 

would dare to cross unbidden? Cease 

to dream that Heaven's will can be 

swayed by prayer. Yet hear and 

retain some words which may console 

your dreadful lot. Know that the 

dwellers in that fatal land which 

refused you succour shall be goaded 

by prodigies from heaven and in their 

fear they shall remember your death 

and propitiate your dust. They will 

erect a magnificent tomb and by so 

doing send down to the ferryman 

your fare and the mound of your tomb 

shall bear forever the name of 

Palinurus.' 

These words allayed the pilot's 

cares for a while and banished the 

grief which engulfed his sad bosom. 

His heart also leapt at the thought of

an everlasting mound which would 

be called by his name. 

Turning back towards the river 

Anaeas and the priestess continued 

on their journey but as soon as the 

boatman saw them approaching, he 

called out: 'You who are making for 

this river of ours in warlike trim, 

speak your business from where you 

are and come no nearer. This is a 

place for shadows and so the bodies 

of the living may not be ferried in 

my boat. Nay, it was not to my joy 

that I once gave passage to Alkides, 

nor to Theseus and Pirithous who 

were born of gods and of strength 

unsubdued. The one laid a jailor's 

hand on the warder of Tartarus, even 

at the foot of the king's own throne, 

and dragged him trembling from his 

post while the other tried to carry

off the queen from Pluto's bridal 

chamber.' 

'Don't be alarmed,' replied the 

Sybil, 'for here there are no 

stratagems like those. These weapons 

are not borne for violence so the 

monstrous guardian of your gate is 

free to terrify the bloodless spectres 

from his den and Proserpine will 

remain free to keep her uncle's home 

as a faithful wife should. This is 

Anaeas of Troy, renowned for his 

piety and for his arms alike. It is to 

see his father that he is going down 

to the lowest depths of Erebus' 

gloom. But even if your are not 

moved by his piety, let this branch 

claim your recognition.' 

At this she uncovered the golden 

branch she had concealed in her robe 

and the ferryman's anger subsided

almost immediately. He said nothing 

more and, gazing in wonder at the 

sacred offering which he had last 

seen a long time ago, he turned his 

boat towards where they stood on 

the bank. There he dislodged his 

ghostly passengers and took the 

priestess and Anaeas aboard. The 

boat, used only to carrying 

insubstantial spirits, creaked and 

cracked beneath their earthly weight 

and for a moment it seemed as if the 

timbers would burst asunder. But the 

boat slowly settled down in the water 

and after ferrying his two passengers 

across the flood, the ferryman set 

them down on the opposite shore. 

However, as they stepped ashore 

Cerberus, the monster, as he lay in 

the entrance of his den, made the 

whole realm ring out with three

terrifying roars. But the priestess, 

seeing the venomous snakes already 

bristling and rearing up on his neck, 

threw him a morsel steeped in the 

honeyed dew of medicated sleep and, 

in his frenzy of hunger, the monster 

opened his triple jaws and gulped it 

down. Almost immediately he 

slumped onto the ground and, as 

he slept, Anaeas and the priestess 

passed the entrance to his den and 

moved away from the banks of the 

river without return. 

Almost immediately their ears 

were assaulted by the sound of a 

mighty wailing. Infant spirits were 

crying and sobbing because, even 

before they had had a chance to taste 

the sweetness of life, they had been 

snatched from their mother's breast by 

the tyranny of Death and carried off

into the untimely darkness. Beyond 

them were those people who had been 

done to death by false accusation; but 

let none think that the judge's 

sentences were wanting for there sat 

Minos, the president, with urn in hand 

and, as he summoned an assembly of 

the speechless, he took cognizance of 

their earthly lives and earthly sins. 

Next came the dwelling place of 

the sons of sorrow who, though 

guiltless, had procured their own 

death through violence and had flung 

their lives away simply because of 

their hatred for the sunshine. But oh, 

how gladly they would now, in the 

air above, bear to the end Fate's load 

of poverty and the full extremity 

of her toil? But alas, the unlovely 

waters of the Styx, with its ninefold 

windings, barred the way back and

held them fast. 

Not far from here, as they 

travelled ever downwards, the eyes 

of the travellers were met by the 

Mourning Fields which stretched out 

into the distance on every side. Here 

lived those whom cruel Love's 

consuming tooth had eaten to the heart 

and who, even in death, could not 

escape their sorrows. In this region 

Anaeas saw Phaedra and Procris and 

sad Eriphyle who, when she saw him 

looking, pointed to the wounds 

inflicted by her ruthless son. There 

was also Evadne, Pasiphae and 

Laodamia and Caeneus, who had once 

been allowed to be a man but was now 

a woman again because the turn of 

Fate's wheel had brought her back to 

her former self. Among these hapless 

souls Anaeas also saw Phoenicia's

daughter, Queen Dido herself. As 

soon as he saw her looming dimly 

through the dusk, tears began to pour 

down his cheeks and he repeatedly 

called out her name. At first she 

pointedly ignored him but when she 

finally turned to face him, he cried out 

lovingly. 'Unhappy Dido! My love. 

A messenger reached me with the 

news of your death and told me that 

the sword I had given you for other 

purposes had done its worst? Was 

it, alas, to a grave that I brought 

you? By the stars of heaven and the 

powers above and by all that is most 

sacred here underground, I swear, fair 

queen, that when I left your coast it 

was at the command of heaven; that 

same stern force which now compels 

me to pass through this wilderness 

of squalor and abysmal night. But

although it was the gods who drove 

me from your shore, I never dreamt 

my departure would bring on you 

such grief and violence.' 

But Queen Dido, her eyes 

glaring, turned and began to move 

away from him and so he cried. 'Stay 

your step and withdraw not from the 

look I bend upon you. For these are 

the last words which Fate allows me 

to address to you.' With words like 

these, Anaeas, as the tears ran down 

his cheeks, kept trying to break 

through Dido's reserve and soothe her 

soul. But as she waited for him to 

finish she was unmoved by his 

words and stood with her head 

averted and stony eyes on the 

ground. When at last he finally 

finished, she flung herself away from 

him and, unforgiving still, fled into

the shadow of the forest where her 

former husband and lord, Sychaeus, 

answered her sorrows with his and 

gave her full measure for her love. 

Yet, none the less, Anaeas, moved to 

the depths of his soul by her cruel 

fate, followed her with tears flowing 

down his cheeks and sent his pity 

along with her. 

Eventually he was forced to give 

up the chase of Dido's shadow as 

it flitted through the woods and return 

to where the priestess, who was 

anxious to continue the journey, 

awaited him. Leaving the Mourning 

Fields behind they reached the place 

where the heroes of war lived. As they 

walked along Anaeas encountered 

Tydeus and Parthenopaeus and also 

the spectre of pale Adrastus. Further 

along he met many great chiefs of the

Dardan line and, as he saw them all 

in long array, he groaned heavily. 

Glaucus, Medon, Thersilochus, 

Polyphoetes who had been Ceres' 

priest and Idaeus were all in the 

armour they had been wearing when 

they fell as were the whole ghostly 

crowd which surrounded them on 

both the right and the left. Their joy 

was plain for all to see and Anaeas 

would have stopped to talk with them 

had the priestess not refused to let 

him linger. Further along they came 

across the Danaans and flower of 

King Agamenmon's army but when 

they saw Anaeas in the gleaming 

armour of Troy, they were smitten 

with alarm. Some turned their backs 

in flight as once they had fled to their 

ships before the fury of Prince Hector 

while others raised a feeble war

shout. But although Anaeas knew that 

King Agamenmon and Prince 

Achilles himself were among their 

number, their timid cries mocked 

their straining throats. 

At little further on Anaeas saw 

King Priam's son, Deiphobus, minus 

his ears and with both his face and 

nose cruelly marred. Anaeas only 

barely recognised him, trembling as 

he was and trying to hide the terrible 

vengeance which had been wreaked 

on him. However, when he finally 

realized who the person with the 

terribly disfigured face was, Anaeas 

accosted him. 'Deiphobus,' he said, 

'mighty warrior and son of King 

Priam, what evil being has had the 

desire to avenge themselves on you so 

cruelly? Who has done this terrible 

thing to you? I had heard that on

that fatal night, exhausted by the work 

of slaughtering Argives, you had sunk 

down on a heap of undistinguished 

carnage. Later, with my own hand, I 

set up an empty tomb for you on the 

Rhoetean shore and thrice, in a loud 

voice, invoked your spirit. Your name 

and arms now keep that spot in 

memory of you.' 

'Dear Friend,' Deiphobus replied, 

'you have failed in nought for as you 

can see, the ferryman has carried me 

across the river and so you have done 

all I might have asked. No! It was my 

own destiny for the wounds on my 

face are the doings of the treacherous 

Spartan woman. How we spent the 

early part of that fatal night in 

rejoicing you know well, but before 

the Argives came out of that evil 

horse's womb, she feigned joy at our

success and led the Trojan dames 

around our city in Bacchic ecstasy, 

herself dancing in their midst and 

raising a mighty torch aloft. However, 

I was spent with exhaustion and so 

lay down to rest but, as I lay 

peacefully in the arms of honeyed 

sleep, she came back from the city 

and removed from my house arms of 

every sort. Yes! Even my sword she 

took from under my pillow and when 

the attack began, she threw open 

the doors to our home and called 

on Menelaos; hoping no doubt that 

her actions would soften her 

husband's heart and that the memory 

of her crime would be wiped from his 

mind. But why make the story long? 

When they burst into the chamber I 

had no arms and so there was nothing 

I could do to defend myself. But you?

What has brought you here while still 

in life? Have you come under the 

spell of your wanderings or by the 

command of heaven? What tyranny 

of fortune insists that you visit these 

sad and sunless dwellings; the abode 

of confusion?' 

But as they indulged in this 

interchange of talk, the Day goddess, 

careering through the sky in her 

flashing car, passed the summit of 

the arch and alas, the time for 

conversation had passed and the 

Sibyl spoke sternly to Anaeas. 

'Night is hastening Anaeas and we, 

as we weep, are carelessly letting the 

hours pass. Just ahead is the spot 

where the road divides in two. On the 

right is the path which leads under the 

palace walls of the mighty Dis and 

there lies our way to Elysium. On the

left the path leads to the torture 

chambers of the wicked and from 

there goes on down to the home of 

evil.' 

'Frown not dread priestess,' said 

Deiphobos, 'for I will plunge again 

into the darkness and make the 

ghostly numbers complete.' Then 

turning to Anaeas he said. 'Go on 

your way, you who are our nation's 

glory. Go and may your experience 

of fate be more blest than mine.' 

Then turning away he began to melt 

slowly back into the gloom. 

But as Deiphobos disappeared 

into the haze Anaeas turned to look 

ahead and on his left he saw a broad 

stronghold surrounded by a triple 

wall and a fierce stream which surged 

with the fire of Tartarean Phlegethon. 

Set into the walls was a gate

with pillars on either side and such 

was its size, no force of man could 

break it down. But rising up behind 

the walls was a great turret and 

Tisiphone, dressed in her gory robe, 

sat at the vestibule keeping her 

sleepless vigil. But from within the 

citadel came the sounds of terrible 

wailing, the crack of remorseless 

whips and also the clank of thick 

bronze chains as they were dragged 

along the stone floor. Anaeas stood 

still, riveted by both the ugliness of 

the citadel and the terror of the noise. 

'What shape,' he said turning to the 

priestess, 'is guilt wearing now? Tell 

me, dread maiden! What are the 

torments which persecute the 

sinners? What do these loud shrieks 

mean?' 

The priestess answered. 'Noble

leader of the Dardans, no innocent 

foot may enter that terrible citadel. 

But when Hecate set me over the 

groves of Avernus, she allowed me to 

enter and also led me through each 

of its grisly chambers. That citadel, 

which is sometimes known as 

Lubyanka, is ruled by Gnosian 

Rhadamanthus who is both a tyrant 

and avenger and also a judge of guilt. 

He compiles the confession of what 

crimes a man has committed in the 

upper air, especially those who 

blindly rejoiced in their cheats and 

kept them secret till the hour of their 

death. But in that moment of death, 

Tisiphone, the unpitying torturer with 

a scourge in her right hand, lashes 

the guilty soul while brandishing 

in her left a grim knot of deadly 

serpents. Eventually, because of the

pain, the guilty confess their sins and 

then at last the way to the gulag is 

opened. See the terrible presence 

which guards the threshold? Know 

that a Hydra fiercer yet and with fifty 

monstrous throats, each a yawning pit, 

lives within. Behind this evil creature 

is the pit which leads straight down 

to the deepest part of Tartarus and 

extends under the shades twice as far 

as a man can gaze into the sky. Down 

there live earth's ancient progeny, 

the Titan brood who were hurled 

down by a thunderbolt of Zeus to 

wallow in the depths. Down there I 

saw the twin sons of Aloeus, great 

giants who tried by force of hand to 

knock mighty Zeus from his realm 

in the sky. I saw too Salmoneus, 

smitten with cruel vengeance while 

mimicking the fires of Zeus and the

umblings of Olympus. He rode in a 

four horse car and with a flaming 

torch in hand, he made his triumphal 

progress through the tribes of Greece 

bidding all to accord him a god's 

homage. Madman! He tried to 

counterfeit the unrivalled thunderbolt 

and storm cloud with a torch, the 

rattle of brass and the beat of horses' 

hoofs. But the Almighty Sire, from 

high up in his cloudy dwelling saw 

what was happening and hurled a 

thunderbolt which dashed the 

imposter headlong down into the 

depths of Tartarus. While I was there 

I also saw Tityos, the foster child of 

earth's common breast. His body lies 

stretched out over nine large fields 

and there is a monstrous vulture with 

hooked beak which tears away at 

his imperishable liver and reaps a

harvest of pain by dining on his 

vitals as it digs deep into his breast 

for its meal. Nor does that dreadful 

bird give the new growing vitals a 

chance to rest for as soon as they 

grow again, he tears at them once 

more with his cruel beak. I saw also 

the Lapithae, people who live under 

a great black crag which is forever in 

the act of dropping. Ixion and 

Pirithous are also there and for them 

the lofty couch is spread for the 

banquet. The feast, served in kingly 

luxury is before them, but the eldest 

of the Furies is crouched by their 

side and will not let them stretch out 

a hand for every time they do so, she 

jumps up with torch uplifted and 

thunder in her voice. But,' continued 

the priestess, her voice growing 

weary, 'even if I had a hundred

tongues, a hundred mouths and lungs 

of iron I could not tell you of all the 

types of crime which drag a spirit 

down into that evil place. Down in 

the depths are found those who lived 

in hatred with their brethren or smote 

a parent. Those who wove for a client 

a web of fraud or gained a great 

treasure and then brooded over it 

alone and never shared it with their 

kin. Also imprisoned there are a 

mighty number of adulterers who 

were slain for their crime, citizens 

who followed the standard of 

treason and slaves who did not shrink 

from breaking their troth to their 

lords. But if you ask of their doom I 

will tell you that some have to roll 

the huge stone up the hill only to have 

it roll down again when they reach 

the top while others are spread out

on the spokes of that terrible wheel, 

half of which lies under stinking 

sewerage. If you were allowed to visit 

you would see, sitting as he will for 

evermore, the unhappy Theseus and 

also Phlegyas who, from the depths 

of his agony, keeps warning all and 

proclaiming with a voice of terror: 

"Learn hereby to be righteous and not 

to scorn the gods." In the deepest 

parts you will find those who sold 

their country for gold and saddled her 

with a tyrant. Those who, for gain, 

made and unmade laws and those 

who assailed their daughter's bed. All 

down there dared some monstrous 

crime and enjoyed their daring. In 

fact, down in Tartarus Kronos can see 

the future of all mankind and has 

reserved places for future deceivers 

and doers of evil, many with names

so strange they are hard for the lips of 

any mortal alive today to pronounce. 

Names such as Ixon, Itler, Lair, Alin 

and others too numerous to mention.' 

But then, looking down the path 

which led to the right, the priestess 

continued. 'But come! If you are to 

fulfil your duty we must quicken 

our pace for we are not far from the 

wall and arched gate at which sacred 

rule bids us lay our offering.' 

Anaeas followed the priestess as 

she hurried down through a maze of 

tunnels and eventually they came to a 

spot where their path was blocked 

by a great wall built of stone blocks 

and into which was set a pair of large 

wooden doors; the timbers of which, 

although withered with age, were still 

as solid and strong as the day they had 

been cut in the forest. On each side of

the door was a blazing torch which 

lit up the gloom with its flickering 

flame and here Anaeas paused for a 

moment to sprinkle his body with 

pure spring water and, after taking the 

golden branch from the priestess, he 

carefully fixed it to the portal's front. 

The offering to the goddess 

having been accomplished the doors 

slowly swung open of their own 

accord and the two visitors entered 

the regions of bliss; those happy 

groves which are the abodes of the 

blest and also the ancestors of the 

Dardanians. People who had been 

born in earth's better days and were of 

a god fearing family. As they entered 

Anaeas looked around in wonder and 

saw that the place boasted a sun, a 

moon and stars of its own and that its 

plains, which stretched out as far as

the eye could see, were covered in 

rich green grass and flowers which 

blazed with all the colours of spring. 

However, as they left the gloom of 

the tunnels behind and walked along 

the well tended pathway, everywhere 

they looked they saw the spirits of the 

blest indulging in their favourite 

pastimes. Some were wrestling on the 

grass and grappling with each other as 

they sought to throw their opponent 

on the ground. Others were dancing 

and chanting songs while a Thracian 

priest in a flowing robe accompanied 

them with beautiful music from his 

lyre and, far off on the right, Anaeas 

could see warriors in gleaming 

bronze carrying out military 

manoeuvres in ghostly chariots. All 

the delight these warriors had taken 

in chariots and armour while they had

lived and all the pleasure they took in 

grooming and feeding their horses had 

come with them underground and 

continued to satisfy their souls for 

here was the place of noblemen who 

had braved wounds in the fight for 

their homeland, of priests who stayed 

pure during their life and of poets 

whose hearts were clean and who sang 

songs which were worthy of Apollo's 

ear. It was also a place of those who, 

by cunning inventions, gave a grace 

to life and those whose worthy deeds 

made their fellows think of them with 

love. Every spirit Anaeas saw had 

their brow encircled with a garland 

which was as white as snow and, as 

he and the priestess walked in among 

the multitude, the spirits of men and 

women and maidens turned somersaults 

on the grass alongside them

and sang joyous songs. Nevertheless, 

as neither knew where they might find 

Anchises, the Sibyl went up to 

Musaeus, who she recognised from 

his great height. He stood in the 

centre of a vast crowd who listened to 

his every word and, after waiting for 

him to finish his story, said: 'Tell us, 

happy spirit and best of bards, which 

is Anchises' haunt and where is his 

home? It is to see him that we have 

come hither and won our way over 

the mighty river of Erebus.' 

'Here,' Musaeus replied with a 

gentle smile, 'there are no fixed 

abodes. Our dwellings are in shadowy 

groves under sweet smelling trees 

and we often sleep on the grassy 

slope of a river bank or in a meadow 

filled with the colours and fragrances 

of spring. But come,' he said

pointing to a nearby hill. 'Climb that 

hill over there with me and I will set 

your feet on the road which will lead 

you to him.' 

So saying, he led the way up to 

the top of the ridge and pointed to the 

pathway which would lead them to 

where they wanted to go. 

When the two finally found father 

Anchises in a leafy dell, he was 

surveying those spirits which were 

destined to pass into the world above 

and, as he looked them over, he 

thought of what each was destined 

to achieve. However, as soon as he 

spotted Anaeas and the priestess 

advancing through the grass, he forgot 

his musings and rushed to meet them 

with both arms outstretched and tears 

streaming down his cheeks. 'You 

have come at last.' he cried out in

joy. 'Love has fulfilled a father's 

hopes and surmounted the perils of 

the way. Once again I can look upon 

the face of my son and talk to him as 

I did in days of old. Yes! I was sure 

you would come and was even 

counting the days. Oh, my son! The 

dangers which have tossed and 

persecuted you? You have no idea 

of how I feared lest you should come 

to harm in Juno's Libya.' 

'Father,' Anaeas replied, 'it was 

the frequent visits of your 

melancholy shade which forced me 

to knock on these doors while up 

above my ships ride safely at anchor 

in the Tyrrhene deep. So let us 

embrace as we did in times of old for 

you have no idea of how I have 

longed to do this.' 

But when Anaeas tried to throw

his arms around his beloved father's 

neck, the phantom escaped him. 

Three times he vainly tried to embrace 

his father and hold him close, but 

each time his arms passed through 

the being whose substance was as 

impalpable as the wind and fleeting 

as the wings of sleep. 

However, once he realized the 

impossibility of embracing his father 

he stopped trying and instead feasted 

his eyes on the presence of the man 

who had done so much to help him. 

But after a while he looked over 

towards the spirits Anchises had 

been watching earlier and was so 

surprised by their numbers, he felt 

obliged to ask about them and also 

about the river around whose banks 

they thronged. At this Anchises 

replied. 'They are the spirits to

whom Destiny has promised new 

bodies and they are there at the 

side of Lethe's water to drink long 

draughts of oblivion, for before they 

can return to the surface they will 

have to forget that they were ever 

here. I have long wished to tell you 

about them and recount the tale of 

what destiny has planned for our 

line.' 

But Anaeas replied. 'Oh, my 

father! Does this mean that there are 

souls which fly from here into the 

upper air and become once more the 

prisoners of sluggish bodies? Can 

their longing for the world above be 

as mad as that?' 

'I will tell you my son.' replied 

Anchises, 'so you need no longer be 

in doubt.' He then began to unfold his 

story. 'Know first that heaven, earth,

the watery plains, the Moon's lucid 

ball and Titan's starry fires are all kept 

alive by a spirit within. A mindly 

presence which pervades every limb 

and stirs the whole frame so it mingles 

together into a mighty whole. From 

that mindly presence spring the races 

of men, all living things on the 

ground and also all those beings 

which Ocean Stream carries beneath 

his storm tossed surface. Each one 

of these entities has a fiery glow 

or heavenly nature which struggles 

against the restrictions of their earthly 

flesh, the dullness of their limbs and 

bodies which are always ready to die. 

From this inner spirit come their fears 

and lusts and also their joys and 

griefs because, imprisoned as they are 

by the dark dungeon walls of flesh, 

they cannot discern the heavenly

light. Nay, even when life's last ray 

has faded from their bodies, the poor 

wretches are still not freed from every 

plague of the flesh. During life, as 

they grew, those many taints became 

ingrained deeply into their being and 

so every spirit has to be cleansed 

through punishment. Some are hung 

up and exposed to the piercing winds 

while others have the stain of their 

wickedness washed out under the 

whelming gulf, burnt out with blazing 

fire or simply just beaten out of 

them with cruel whips. But after each 

has received its just chastisement 

they are then sped through the 

breadth of Elysium. where they stay 

to inhabit these happy plains until, 

when time's cycle is complete, the 

spirit is thoroughly cleansed and all 

that is left is a pure residue of

heavenly intelligence. All of these, 

when they have rounded the circle of 

a thousand years, Heaven summons to 

the stream of Lethe so that, with 

memory effaced, they may return to 

the vault of the world above and 

learn to wish for a new union with the 

body.' 

As Anchises ended he drew both 

his son and the Sibyl into the heart 

of the buzzing crowd so that they 

might see each face. 

'Now then,' he said, 'for the 

glories of the Dardan race, I will 

tell you of these noble spirits and also 

of their Dardan destinies, for many 

of them will be heirs to our proud 

name. 

'He whom you see there,' 

continued Anchises pointing to the 

spirit of a youth, 'that one leaning on

a pointless spear. He will be one of 

the first to rise into the upper day and 

will be born from the mixture of 

Italian blood. He is to be Silvius, 

whom in your old age, your spouse 

Lavinia will bear to you in the 

woods and he will be both a king and 

a father of kings and it is from him 

that our race will rule over Alba the 

Long. Next to him are the mighty 

Procas, Capys, Numitor and a second 

bearer of your name; Silvius Anaeas 

who, when he eventually comes to the 

throne of Alba, will be renowned like 

you for both his piety and valour. But 

what glorious youths? Just look at 

what strength they carry in their 

bodies. They shall rear for you, high 

on places which are still nameless, 

the cities of Nomentum, Gabii, 

Fidenae, Pometii, Bola and Cora.

Romulus, too, the child of Mars, shall 

come along with his grandparents, 

both of whom will bear Ilios' name. 

But do you see that spirit with those 

two purple plumes on his crest and 

how his bearing marks him even now 

for high places in the upper world? 

Yes, my son, it is under his auspices 

that our glorious Rome shall extend 

her empire to the ends of the earth 

and her ambition to the skies while the 

city itself will embrace all of seven 

hills with one wall! Over there you 

can see Caesar, who will be a 

progeny of yours through Ascanius 

and beside him is the one who is 

destined to become Augustus Caesar 

and who will establish once more for 

Latium a golden age in every region. 

But who is that in the distance, 

conspicuous with a wreath of olive

on his brow and a sacred vessel in 

his hand? Ah! I know the hoary hair 

and beard of a king of Rome and he 

is the one who shall give our infant 

city the support of law. But after 

him, alas, shall come one who is 

doomed to break his country's peace 

and stir up warriors who were rusting 

away in ease and squadrons of 

cavalry which had forgotten their 

triumphs. Ancus the great boaster 

will come next and even now you can 

see that he is a little too eager to hear 

words of admiration. Would you look 

also at the kings of Tarquin's house 

and at the haughty spirit of Brutus 

the avenger? Brutus shall be the first 

to take the consul's power but the 

axes of doom will bring him to the 

ground. Unhappy man! Forever 

afterwards people will remember his

dreadful deed and never cease to 

speak of it. But over there are the 

Drusi, the Decii and Torquatus with 

his unpitying axe, and behind him is 

Camillus the restorer of the standards. 

Those on the left, all dressed alike in 

gleaming armour, are spirits which 

live in harmony with one another for 

so long as they are confined in this 

place. But alas, how terrible will be 

the war they wage with each other 

when they attain the light of day? 

What an arraying of hosts the world 

will see and what carnage will there 

be? Father in law and son in law, the 

one coming down from Alpine 

ramparts and the stronghold of 

Monoecus and the other drawn up 

against him with the forces of the east. 

I would that I could order them not 

to make war on each other and turn

their country's valour against its vitals, 

but the plans of Destiny are not for 

me to challenge.' Anchises paused 

for a moment and looked sadly at 

the spirits who would one day tear 

Rome to pieces with war, but then he 

pointed to another spirit. 'See!' He 

said. 'There is a conqueror who will 

drive in triumph over Corinth and 

become glorious because of the 

Achaians he will slaughter and 

behind him is one who will lay the 

whole of Argos and even 

Agamenmon's own Mykene in the 

dust. Not only that, he will have the 

blood of Achilles in his veins and it 

will be a Roman vengeance for his 

Trojan grandsires and for Pallas' 

insulted fame. But what tongue 

would leave the great Cato or 

Cossus unpraised? Or the race of

the Gracchi, or those twin 

thunderbolts of war, the Scipios; 

Libya's ruin. Or Fabricius who will 

be princely even in his poverty? 

Following these are many who will 

plead better at the bar and use cleverer 

words, but they will only come after 

the spear, arrow and sword have 

carved out the empire of Rome for it 

is the destiny of our offspring to 

govern nations as their lord and 

impose on them both the rule of law 

and knowledge of justice.' 

Father Anchises paused again 

but then, without giving Anaeas any 

time to think about what he had said, 

went on to say; 'See how Marcellus 

over there towers above all the other 

warriors? When the state of Rome 

reels under the invader's shock, he 

shall protect it and his horse's hoofs

will trample both the invading 

Carthaginians and revolting Gauls 

underfoot.' 

At this, Anaeas, who saw a 

youth in gleaming armour walking at 

Marcellus' side with downcast eyes 

and little joy on his brow, said; 'Who 

my father, is he who thus attends 

Marcellus? Is he his son or one of his 

glorious descendants? I see the 

shadow of gloomy night and 

unhappiness hovering around his 

brow.' 

Father Anchises paused for a 

moment to let his tears flow for a 

while. 'Alas, my son!' He said finally. 

'Ask not of the heavy grief that those 

of your blood must bear. To him the 

fates will give but a glimpse of life. 

Yes, Rome's race would have been 

too strong even for the powers of

heaven if it did not also suffer its 

share of misery and unhappiness. 

Oh, what groanings of the brave shall 

be wafted from the fields of war? 

What a funeral will the Tiber behold 

as it flows past that newly built 

sepulchre! No child from the stock 

of Troy shall raise his Latian ancestors 

to such heights of hope and never, 

while time lasts, shall the land of 

Romulus take such pride in any that 

she has reared. But woe for the pious, 

the ancient faith and for the arm 

unconquered in battle! Child of a 

nation's sorrow! Where is the hope 

of breaking the tyranny of Fate? 

Bring me handfuls of lilies so that I 

may strew the grave with their 

dazzling hues and crown, if only with 

these gifts, my young descendant's 

shade and perform the vain service of

sorrow.' 

After this, although Anaeas 

wasn't at all sure what his father had 

meant, he followed his sire as he led 

the way through the whole expanse 

of patient spirits and took note of 

everything he said. At one point the 

father paused and pointed to a 

beautiful maiden sitting elegantly on 

a river bank and gazing at a splendid 

multicoloured flower she held in her 

hand. 'See that maiden?' he asked. 

'She will be one of your descendants 

and in the hidden mists of the far-off 

future, she is destined to be a great 

queen. She will be queen of a great 

nation in the north and it is her 

unhappy lot to preside over her 

people's loss of worldly stature. But 

she will be greatly loved by all her 

subjects and in her later years she will

put aside the restrictions of her regal 

role and even turn to acting in her 

efforts to both unite her people and 

and cheer them up in a time when her 

nation's treasure chests are almost 

empty.' 

Then pointing to a young man 

who was picking up the seeds of a 

sycamore tree and throwing them into 

the air so he could delight in watching 

them rotate and they descended 

slowly to the ground he said. 'That 

very tall young man will be the 

maiden's grandchild and is destined 

for great things. What those things are 

I have, as yet, not been able to 

discover. But they will be great 

indeed.' 

Eventually, after father Anchises 

had taken his son from end to end 

and fired his mind with the prospect

of the glorious history which would 

follow him, he told his warrior son of 

the battles he must fight in the present 

and how to shun or stand the shock 

of every peril. 

But then, as the time had come 

for Anaeas and the priestess to leave 

the land of the blest, his father led 

them to where the two gates of Sleep 

stood. One, as story tells, is made of 

horn and supplies a ready exit to the 

surface for true spirits while the 

other, although it gleams with the 

polish of dazzling ivory, is used by 

the powers below to send false dreams 

to the world above. It was to here 

that Anchises conducted his son and 

the Sibyl and bid them depart to the 

surface through the gate of horn.

Book VII 

The moment Anaeas stepped into the 

portal of horn he inexplicably found 

himself back in the sacred grove 

from whence he had begun his 

journey into the underworld. Then, 

with the priestess at his side, he 

quickly made his way back down to 

the shore and ordered his men prepare 

the fleet for the next stage of their 

journey. 

But just as the fleet was about to 

sail, Caieta, the ancient nurse of 

Anaeas, departed the land of the living 

and so Anaeas felt forced to delay 

his departure until he had raised a 

great funeral mound to his beloved 

nurse and once he had paid his last

espects, he ordered his men to spread 

the sails and take their seats on the 

benches. Helped by a fair breeze 

the fleet made good speed and during 

the night a bright moon lit the sea 

with her rippling beams. Skirting the 

coast of Circe's realm, they heard 

from the shore the growling noise of 

angry people who Circe, daughter of 

the Sun, had transformed into fierce 

animals. As the ships silently cut their 

way through the water, the crews 

could hear the roar of angry lions 

while wild boars and great bears 

vented their rage at being deprived 

of their humanness. However, in case 

the Trojans were tempted to seek a 

harbour in this spot and fell under the 

appalling spell of the evil goddess, 

Poseidon bade the Zephyrs to fill 

their sails with favouring breezes and

waft them quickly past the moonlit 

beaches on which lay the rotting 

hulks of many ships which had 

stopped for but a moment's rest and 

never departed. 

Nevertheless, as dawn in her 

saffron robe was just starting to shine 

down from heaven's height, the winds 

were suddenly laid to rest and every 

breath sank in sudden sleep. The crew 

were therefore forced to take to the 

benches and the oars began pulling 

slowly against the marble surface of 

the sea, Looking over towards the 

coast they were passing Anaeas saw 

a great river flowing from out of the 

mighty forest while above and all 

around birds of every colour were 

filling the air with their cries. At this 

wondrous sight he ordered his 

comrades to turn their prows towards

land and entered with joy the Tiber's 

shadowed bed. 

At the time Anaeas and his fleet 

arrived on the Latian shore the land 

was ruled by King Latinus and had 

enjoyed a long period of peace and 

prosperity. Latinus was the son of 

Faunus and Marcia; a Laurentine 

nymph. But although stricken with 

age he had no son and so just as his 

peaceful kingship was budding into 

youth, its branch was being cut off. 

The sole maintainer of his princely 

house was a daughter who was ripe 

for wedlock and was being wooed 

by princes who came from all over 

Ausonia. One, King Turnus, was 

more handsome than all the others and 

also strong in the glory of his ancestry 

and so the queen was very anxious for 

this union to take place. But the

heavenly portents unexpectedly 

barred the way with manifold alarm. 

There was a laurel in the middle of 

the palace, in the very heart of royal 

courtyard, which was sacred in its 

every leaf and cherished by all. The 

legend was that father Latinus himself 

had found it there when he first laid 

the foundations of the city and had 

dedicated it to Phoebus Apollo 

before giving his new people the name 

of Laurentines. But, at the time of 

Anaeas' arrival, a dense swarm of 

bees suddenly lodged high up on this 

tree and, with a loud humming noise, 

flew hither and thither throughout the 

palace. Seeing this a renowned 

prophet felt forced to speak. 'There is 

a stranger approaching.' He said. 'I 

see him now with his people coming 

hither and commanding the heights

of the citadel.' 

Just as the prophet said this, 

Lavinia, as she stood in her maiden 

purity and was applying the hallowed 

torch to the altars, was seen by all 

to catch fire. Her long tresses and 

all her headgear were engulfed in 

flame and, wrapped in smoke, she ran 

through the corridors in her terror and 

scattered the fire god's sparks 

throughout the whole palace. It was 

indeed a sight of horror, but despite 

the flames and smell of burning cloth, 

the princess herself was unharmed 

and at this the prophet said. 'This 

princess will be famed throughout 

the land but she, in the manner of 

all famous princesses, will also be a 

bringer of great tribulation and war.' 

Troubled by these prodigies 

Latinus retired to the oracle of

Faunus, his prophetic sire, which 

stood in the groves beneath Albunea's 

shade. This was a place where kings 

from all over Ausonia and the 

Oenotrian lands came to find answers 

to questions which troubled them 

because it was here that the 

priestess slaughtered the inquirer's 

offering and later, while lying in the 

still of night on a couch made from 

the slaughtered sheep's skins, she 

heard voices and saw phantoms. In 

her sleep she also enjoyed 

communion with the gods in heaven 

and sometimes even with Acheron 

down in the depths of Avernus. It 

was here that king Latinus, in his 

quest for an answer, was sacrificing a 

hundred two year old sheep and was 

making a fleecy bed from their skins 

for the priestess to lie on when

suddenly, from somewhere deep inside 

the grove, the voice of Faunus 

was heard. 'Look not to ally my 

granddaughter in wedlock with one 

from Latium or Ausonia. Put not 

your faith in marriage chambers 

which are dressed and ready because 

there is a son in law now on his way 

from a distant land. His people are 

destined to mix their blood with 

ours and exalt our name to the 

heavens. These are people whose 

lineal posterity will one day see the 

whole world spread beneath their 

feet.' 

In the still of the night, such 

were the words which came from the 

grove but Latinus was unable to keep 

them to himself because, such was 

their potential for causing excitement 

and scandal, Fame and Rumour

quickly gathered them up and began 

spreading them through the whole of 

his kingdom. 

Meanwhile, down by the river, 

shortly after they had cast their 

anchors, Anaeas, his chief captains 

and Ascanius all lay down under the 

boughs of a lofty oak and spread a 

meal on the grass before them. But, 

because the dawn was still fresh and 

the grass was dewy and wet, they 

were inspired by Father Zeus to 

place large cakes of flour underneath 

their food and collection of wild fruit. 

But when the food was eaten, their 

hunger remained unsatisfied and so 

each absently picked up one of the 

flour-cakes and began to munch on it 

as they continued discussing their 

plans and ideas. When he saw this 

Ascanius jumped up. 'What!' He cried

in a merry vein. 'Are we so hungry 

that we are eating our tables as well?' 

Instinctively looking at the food 

in their hands everyone remembered 

the curse of the Harpy and, realising 

that they had at last reached their 

promised land, they all laughed out 

loud. 'Hail to thee,' Anaeas cried out, 

'promised land of our destiny and new 

home for the gods of Troy. Yes, at 

last we are home and so with 

tomorrow's earliest light we must 

explore this place and find out who 

its dwellers are and where the city of 

the king is. But first let us pour out 

generous libations to Father Zeus and 

also invoke my father in prayer.' 

Having said this he twisted some 

leafy twigs into a ring and, after 

placing the garland on his head, he 

offered prayers to the land upon which

he stood and to the nymphs and 

streams which were as yet unknown 

by name. He then prayed to Mount 

Ida, the Night and the Night's new 

born stars. He invoked each in turn 

and also prayed to his own two 

parents down below in the nether 

world and, while he prayed, the 

Almighty Father thundered three 

times in a completely clear sky. 

The news that this was their 

promised land spread quickly among 

the Trojan ranks and such was 

everyone's delight, they immediately 

set about preparing an enormous 

banquet and spent the rest of the day 

in rejoicing. 

The next day, as soon as the dawn 

began lighting up the earth with her 

torch, everyone dispersed and began 

exploring the area around the river's

mouth. From the local farmers and 

shepherds they learned that one spring 

was called Numicius, the river itself 

was known as the Tiber and the 

country was the home of the brave 

Latian race. When they were familiar 

with their immediate surroundings, 

Anaeas collected an embassy of a 

hundred people, chosen from all 

classes and instructed them to go to 

the monarch's royal city with their 

heads wreathed in garlands from 

Pallas' tree and with presents to 

entreat his friendship. But, while the 

embassy hastened to do his bidding 

and set off for Latium, Anaeas 

himself began marking out the new 

city's boundaries and prepared the 

ground for their first settlement by 

digging a shallow trench. 

Coming in sight of the towers

and stately homes of Latium, in the 

plains outside the walls the embassy 

saw boys and youths in their prime 

practising their military skills. Some 

drove chariots around in clouds of 

dust, some practised archery or 

hurled javelins while others fought 

each other with the gloves. But as 

the Trojans approached the city gates 

a messenger ran to the palace with 

the news that a hundred mighty men 

had arrived in strange attire. 

On receiving this news the king 

took his place on his ancestral throne 

and told the messenger to conduct 

them into his presence and, when 

they arrived, he spoke to them thus. 

'Tell me, sons of Dardanus, for we 

know of your city and your race and 

have heard the tale of your coming, 

what is your errand? What cause

or necessity has wafted your ships to 

our shores through so many leagues 

of water? Is it ignorance of the way 

or trouble with the weather which has 

brought you to our coast? Shrink 

not from our welcome, but know that 

the Latian race are the true people 

of Saturn, the god who is known to 

you as Kronos, and we are kept in 

righteousness not by any bond of 

law, but by our own instinct and the 

rule of our parent-god. And now that 

I remember, though years have dulled 

the freshness of the tale the aged 

Auruncan used to tell, it was in this 

land that Dardanos first saw the light 

and it was from here that he won his 

way to the towns of Phrygian Ida and 

Thracian Samos; which men now 

call Samothrace. Ay, it was from the 

house of Tuscan Corythus that he

went and now he sits on a throne in 

heaven and even the gods make room 

for him.' 

As he ended Ilioneus, who had 

been ordered by Anaeas to speak on 

behalf of the whole embassy, 

answered him. 'Great king and 

illustrious son of Faunus,' he said. 'It 

was not the weather which drove 

us on your coast and nor were we 

beguiled from our track by a 

mistaken star or skyline. No! It was 

with full intent that we are arrived 

here, driven as we were from a realm 

which was once the greatest the sun 

surveyed on its course through the 

heavens. Our race has its origins 

in Father Zeus and our monarch, 

who has sent us to your doors, is 

himself goddess-born. You say you 

have heard of us and so must know

the story of how two worlds, Europe 

and Asia, each driven by Fate, met 

and crashed together in that terrible 

storm which, launched from 

Mykene, swept over Mount Ida's 

plains and eventually left the great 

city of Troy in ruins. Now we, the 

survivors of that storm, ask you for 

a resting place for our country's gods 

and for the harmless privilege of 

your coast. We shall be no disgrace to 

your kingdom and nor shall our 

gratitude for your great bounty grow 

old. I swear by the star of Anaeas, 

whose mother is Aphrodite, the 

goddess known to you as Venus, that 

you shall never mourn the day you 

welcomed Troy into your heart. It is 

the oracles of heaven which have 

driven us to search out your realm 

because, as you have just said, it

was from here that Dardanos came 

and now Apollo bids us return. 

Moreover here are gifts from Anaeas. 

They are, alas, only offerings snatched 

from the flames of Troy and but 

scanty relics of our past prosperity. 

But from this golden cup Anchises, 

the father of Anaeas, poured out 

libations at the altar. This sceptre 

once belonged to King Priam and he 

always held it in his hand when, in 

kingly fashion, he made laws for his 

people to follow while this sacred 

diadem and these robes are the work 

of Trojan dames.' 

As Ilioneus finished speaking he 

placed the gifts before the king, but 

Latinus was so engrossed in thought 

that he paid little attention to the 

visitors who prostrated themselves 

before him and, as he pondered the

subject of his daughter's wedding and 

the words of the oracle, even the 

sight of King Priam's golden sceptre 

did not stir his kingly mind. 'This 

must be,' he thought to himself, 'that 

predicted son in law who has arrived 

from a foreign home and is destined 

to reign in joint sovereignty with 

myself and who, with my daughter, 

will father the future rulers of the 

world.' 

At length, as the embassy waited 

anxiously for his reply, the king 

broke out in pleasing tones: 'May the 

gods prosper our intent and ratify the 

will of heaven. Yes, Trojan! Your 

prayer shall be answered and nor will 

I reject your presents. As long as I, 

Latinus, am king of this beautiful 

land, you shall not lack the bounty 

of the soil. Nor shall you fear for the

wealth you have brought from Troy. 

But peace will be incomplete until I 

have touched the hand of your 

monarch and so if he covets the tie of 

hospitality so much, let him come into 

my presence and not shrink from eyes 

which will view him kindly. But first 

you must take him this message. Tell 

him I have a daughter whose 

marriage with a husband of our nation 

has been forbidden by voices from my 

father's shrine and also that countless 

prodigies from heaven say my son 

in law is to arrive from a foreign 

clime. It is, so they say, Fate's will 

for our nation because by mixing 

their blood with ours, these 

foreigners will exalt our name to the 

spheres and it is my belief that Anaeas 

is the one the oracles have spoken 

of.'

After saying this the old king 

took the embassy to his stables and, 

choosing horses from the multitude 

he possessed, he gave one to each of 

the visitors and for the absent Anaeas 

he presented a beautiful chariot pulled 

by two horses which snorted fire 

from their nostrils and were 

renowned for their speed. Thus graced 

with gifts and kindly speeches, the 

children of Anaeas returned to their 

fledgling city and brought with them 

tidings of peace. 

However, just at this moment 

the Queen of Heaven was travelling 

back from her beloved Argos and, 

glancing down from her chariot as 

it passed between the sun and the 

earth, she beheld Anaeas in the 

distance and the Dardan fleet safely 

at anchor. She could see that he had

already made the soil his friend and 

was building his new home and, 

pierced with bitter grief by the sight, 

she shook her head while from the 

depths of her bitter heart the words 

came pouring out. 'Ah,' she cried, 

'that hated stock of Troy which still 

refuses to perish! Did the warriors 

really die when the city of Troy was 

burned to the ground and were the 

women really sold in the slave 

markets of Argos? Alas, even in 

the face of defeat it seems as if the 

Trojan race has found a way. Ay, 

but although my power lies gasping 

and spent, my hatred still lives. I 

have followed them with a enemy's 

zeal wherever they went and put 

whatever problems I could in their 

way; but Syrtes, Scylla and the 

Charybdis' yawning gulf have all

failed me in my desires and so now 

the Trojans have gained the River 

Tiber; the haven of their wishes. Now 

they can laugh at both the perils of the 

ocean and at me. My son Ares, or 

should I call him Mars as he now 

prefers, had the strength to destroy 

the Lapithan nation, huge though they 

were and the father of all the gods 

gave up the honoured land of 

Calydon to Diana's vengeance! But 

what had the Lapithans or Calydons 

done to earn such penal ruin? Yet I, 

who have stooped so low and left 

nothing untried, and who also 

assumed every form by turns, am 

vanquished by Anaeas. Well, if on 

my own my powers are not enough, I 

will not shrink from asking for aid, 

be it found where it may. If I cannot 

get help from above, then I will stir

up the fiends of the deep for, even if 

Zeus will not allow me to keep a 

relation of that hateful Paris from the 

crown of Latium, I can still cause him 

trouble by putting delays and 

impediments in his path and also by 

causing discord and strife between the 

Trojans and the people of Ausonia. 

So let father in law and son in law 

embrace at the cost of their people's 

lives and let fair Lavinia's dowry be 

the bodies of both Trojan and 

Ausonian warriors. Venus will see 

the tale repeated in her own 

offspring. A second Paris and the 

funeral torch rekindled for a reviving 

Troy. 

Having thus vented her spleen the 

Queen of Heaven flew down to earth 

in a black rage and summoned from 

the darkness of the pit the

malevolent Alecto; the fiend whose 

head is always crowned with a nest 

of deadly vipers and who is always 

pleased by injurious crimes, deceitful 

stratagems, strife and bloody wars. 

In fact, so many forms can Alecto take 

on and so loathsome is the appearance 

of each one; she is hated even by 

Pluto, her sire, and also her Tartarean 

sisters. This dreaded fiend Juno lashed 

to even fiercer fury by speaking to her 

thus: 'It seems, maiden, daughter of 

the darkness, that I will be shamed 

and both my praise and renown will 

be dashed from their pedestal. So I 

ask you to grant me your undivided 

aid and make sure that Anaeas does 

not ensnare Latinus in a bridal 

alliance or take over the Ausonian 

frontier. You are known by a thousand 

dreadful names and have the power to

make brothers of one blood take arms 

against each other and can also turn 

peaceful homes into dens of strife; so 

I beg you to snap the bonds of peace 

and scatter the incentives of war. Let 

both the Ausonians and the Trojans 

take up the spear and the sword and 

go to war against each other.' 

On hearing this the evil-faced 

Alecto, empoisoned with the 

Gorgon's venom, cackled with delight 

and went first to Latium and to Queen 

Amata's lofty chamber in the palace. 

There she found the queen who, as she 

mused on the arrival of the Trojans 

and the dashing of Turnus' bridal 

hopes, was seething with all a 

woman's passion and all a woman's 

spleen. Noting this Alecto quickly 

snatched a poisonous viper from her 

head and hurled it at Amata. It was

her intent that, maddened by the 

poisonous pest, Amata would proceed 

to drive the whole kingdom wild. 

Unfelt by Amata, the writhing reptile 

landed first her shoulder and, after 

gliding in between her robe and 

marble breasts, it slid smoothly from 

limb to limb before entwining itself 

around the golden necklace which 

hung around her neck. After it had 

rested here for a while it climbed onto 

her head and entwined itself in her 

hair. Still unseen and unfelt by 

Queen Amata, it then glided slowly 

down over her face and, after 

entering her mouth and slithering 

down her throat, it found a home in 

her breast where, with its viperous 

breath, it pervaded her senses and 

set her whole being aflame. Such 

were the uncontrollable emotions the

snake's venom caused in the queen 

that she soon began ranting and raving 

and throwing things about her 

chamber. She then went to Latinus in 

a fury and, with tears streaming 

down her cheeks, she cried. 'Are the 

fugitives from Troy to take our 

Lavinia in marriage good father? 

Have you no compassion for your 

daughter or yourself? What about 

me, her mother? Have you no 

feelings for me? Don't you care 

about what I think? How can you be 

so blind? Can you not see that with 

the first fair wind which comes along 

that faithless pirate will spread his 

sails and carry off his maiden prey? 

Ay, things were not so when the 

Trojan shepherd, who was a relative 

of Anaeas, stole into Lacedaemon 

and bore away the wife of King

Menelaos! Where is your tenderness 

for your own flesh and blood and 

what happened to the promises you 

made to King Turnus? If the 

command of your father sits so 

heavily on your soul and Latian folk 

must have a son in law fetched from 

foreign stock, I hold that any nation 

not subjective to our rule is foreign 

and that means King Turnus is a 

foreigner. If you go back to the 

first foundation of his house, he has 

Inachus and Acrisius for his 

ancestors and the heart of Mykene for 

his home. So, as he must therefore 

be a foreigner, you cannot deny he is 

a suitable son in law for our Lavinia.' 

But when the queen realized her 

words were having no effect on the 

King and that he was obstinately 

bent on a marriage with Anaeas,

the serpent's fiendish mischief, which 

had sunk deep into her vitals and 

thrilled her every nerve, caused her to 

rush out into the streets and rave in an 

ungoverned frenzy throughout the 

city's length and breadth. Such was 

the turmoil of her passions that as she 

raged through the streets, she was 

suddenly inspired to climb to even 

greater heights of madness and nerve 

herself to even more atrocious deeds. 

So, in an effort to try and snatch her 

daughter from the Dardan's bridal bed 

and delay the kindling of Hymen's 

torch, she took Lavinia into the 

woods and hid her among the leafy 

hills. 'Only King Turnus,' she cried, 

'is a fit mate for a maiden like this. 

See! For him she takes up the sacred 

wand and for him she leads the dance 

and for him she grooms her flowing

hair.' 

Gossip and Rumour were both 

delighted by what the queen was 

saying and doing and so quickly 

gathered up the story of what was 

happening and began spreading it 

throughout the land. When they heard 

of what the queen had done, other 

mothers became imbued with the 

same frenzy and mad passion and so 

they left their houses and, after 

releasing their hair to the wind and 

filling the sky with quivering shrieks, 

they ran to join the queen in the 

forest. There in the middle of the 

crowd of frenzied women stood the 

queen with a blazing torch held high 

in her right hand as she sang the 

bridal song of King Turnus and her 

daughter. But suddenly, as if she were 

a savage, she yelled out. 'Ho! mothers

of Latium all! Where have you been? 

If you have human hearts and can feel 

kindness for your poor queen, and if 

you are stung to think of a mother's 

rights, take the fillets from your hair 

and join me in this rebellion.' 

Such was the behaviour of the 

queen who, driven to madness by the 

poisonous viper in her breast, had 

become but an unwitting toy of Alecto 

the Fiend. 

Judging that she had caused 

enough trouble in Latium, Alecto 

soared into the air on her murky wings 

and travelled to the Rutulian city of 

Ardea which, they say, Danae built for 

her Argive settlers when they had 

been blown on her shores by a storm. 

Here in the lofty palace she found 

King Turnus in the midst of sleep 

and, after putting off her hideous

features and fiendish shape, she 

furrowed her loathsome brow with 

wrinkles and transformed herself into 

the shape of Calybe; the aged 

priestess of Juno's temple. In this 

guise she appeared in the young 

warrior's dream and spoke to him 

thus. 'Can King Turnus,' she said 

scathingly, 'calmly sit by and do 

nothing while all he has worked for 

is given to the Trojan settlers? Is he 

willing to watch peacefully as his 

bride and blood bought dowry is 

given to a foreigner? Is he so brave 

that he will calmly accept the 

decisions of King Latinus and also 

the laughter and derision of his 

subjects? If he is such a coward then 

I must leave.' Here the Fiend paused 

for a moment to let her words sink in 

and then she continued. 'But, if King

Turnus is not a coward, then Juno, the 

Queen of Heaven, bids me say these 

words. "Rise and gather your 

warriors. Go to where the Trojan 

chiefs have anchored their fleet in 

our fair river and set fire to their 

painted ships. King Latinus must 

respect the promise he made and give 

you both your bride and your dowry, 

or else you must let him know what it 

is to have Turnus for a foe.''' 

Laughing scornfully at what he 

thought was the old priestess the 

young king spoke in reply. 'The 

news that a fleet has arrived in the 

Tiber has not, as you might imagine, 

escaped my ear. But do not try to 

terrify me with idle talk of what King 

Latinus intends to do for Queen Juno 

will not forget me. No, it is you, good 

mother, who in your mouldering

dotage, has been drained of truth and 

so you feel obliged to mock your 

prophetic soul with false alarms. 

You, old woman, have your place 

in the temple and must watch over 

our statues. War is man's work and so 

whether we have peace or go to war 

is something only men can decide.' 

Alecto was infuriated by these 

words and as a result, so fierce was 

the hissing of the thousand snakes 

which sprang suddenly into view 

from her head and so monstrous the 

features he saw that, even in the 

act of speaking, a shudder seized the 

young king's frame and his eyes 

grew stiff and stony. But when he 

had gathered himself and tried to 

speak again, the serpents on Alecto's 

head reared up and terrified him 

back into silence. Seeing his terror

Alecto took one of the serpents by the 

tail and cracked it like a whip in 

Turnus' face. So close to his skin did 

the snake's gaping mouth come that 

its long, curved fangs only just failed 

to sink into his nose. Then the fiend 

hissed at the youth who lay 

whimpering on the bed before her, 'So 

you think I'm a mouldering old lady 

who, in her dotage, has been drained 

of truth and is mocking you with false 

alarms do you? Well, look at me 

and know that I come from the 

dwelling of the Dread Sisters and that 

the evils of both war and death are 

controlled by my hand.' 

As she said this she hurled a 

blazing torch at the youth and the 

moment it landed on his chest, the 

sheets caught fire instantly breaking 

the bonds of sleep. With a shout of

terror Turnus leapt from his burning 

bed and in a frenzy, screamed out. 

'My sword, where is my sword?' 

But remembering where he always 

kept it while he slept, he reached 

under his pillow and grasped the 

weapon by its hilt. The feel of his 

sword in his hand caused the madness 

of a bloodletting rage to rise up 

within him and, as angry pride 

topped all, he forgot all the treaties 

he had made. Consequently, after 

going down to the courtyard and 

calling for his captains, he ordered 

them to gather the men and prepare 

for a march on King Latinus. 

'Ausonia,' he cried, 'must be 

protected and the Trojan foe must be 

driven from our frontiers.' 

His own army, he felt, would be 

enough to deal with both the Trojans

and the Latians and so, after making 

sacrifices to heaven, he used clever 

words to spin strange stories and 

whipped his men into a fighting 

fury. 

But while Turnus was filling his 

Rutulians with the spirit of daring, 

Alecto was busy looking for a way to 

put her plans against the Dardanians 

into motion. At first she was unsure 

of what to do but when she fixed 

her gaze on the spot where, on the 

winding coast, Ascanius was 

hunting game with the snare and 

hounds, a new thought entered her 

mind and so she maddened his 

hounds by touching their nostrils with 

a scent they knew well. This caused 

them to search for a stag their noses 

told them must be close by and, by 

so doing, they put the spark of war

to the whole countryside. 

There was a beautiful stag with 

lofty horns which had been taken by 

the sons of Tyrrheus from its 

mother's breast and brought up by 

them and their father. Trained to obey 

the commands of men, this stag was 

in the chief care of their sister Silvia 

and she often spent long periods 

washing it down in the clear stream, 

combing its rough coat and decking 

its horns with coloured ribbons. 

Grown tame to the touch of people 

and accustomed to its master's table, 

this stag would often run free in the 

forest but, no matter how late the 

night, it always returned to its 

stable. But now the hounds led 

Ascanius to where it happened to be 

grazing by the river bank. At the sight 

of such a magnificent beast, Ascanius,

who was fired with a proud ambition, 

bent his bow and nor did his hand 

err for want of heavenly aid; the 

arrow sped to its target with a loud 

hurtling sound and, with a thump, 

pierced the belly of the stag. The 

wounded creature leapt into the air 

before racing for the home it knew 

so well and, moaning piteously, crept 

into its stall. There, bleeding 

profusely, it filled the whole house of 

Tyrrheus with its cries of pain and 

Silvia, when she saw what had 

happened to the stag she loved so 

dearly, immediately called for help. 

When the saw the wounded beast 

Tyrrheus, Silvia's brothers and the 

rough country folk who lived in the 

area were so infuriated that each one 

immediately armed himself with 

whatever weapon they could and,

driven by anger, went to find the 

killer of the stag. Cruel Alecto, 

seized the chance to make even more 

mischief and made for the lofty roof 

of the stalls and from its summit she 

called out the shepherd's clarion call. 

Pitching her voice high and adding to 

it a note of Tartarean hell, her cry 

convulsed the whole forest and was 

heard as far away as Trivia's lake, the 

river Nar and the springs of the 

Veline. Also, such was the evilness 

of the Tartarean sound that, wherever 

the cry was heard, terror stricken 

mothers quickly dragged their 

children indoors and clasped them to 

their bosoms. 

Responding to the sound of the 

clarion call, rustics from all around 

snatched up what weapons they could 

and gathered round Tyrrheus while

the forces of Troy, for their part, 

poured out of their camp to give 

succour to Ascanius. Now it is no 

longer a woodsman's quarrel waged 

with sticks or heavy clubs; the whole 

plain outside the Trojan encampment 

bristled with an assortment of 

axes, spears, swords and whatever 

other implements of death the men 

of both sides could lay their hands on. 

Then, seemingly for no reason, 

arrows began to fly and the first to fall 

was a young warrior in the first rank; 

one of Tyrrheus' eldest sons; Almo. 

Moments later he was surrounded by 

many other frames and among them 

was old Galaesus who, while 

throwing himself between the armies 

and pleading for peace, had been 

caught in the throat by a Trojan arrow. 

He had been one of the wealthiest

men in Ausonia with five flocks of 

sheep, five herds of oxen and land 

which was furrowed by a hundred 

ploughs. 

But while uncaring Mars dealt 

out both victory and death to each 

side on the battlefield, Alecto, 

having honoured her promise by 

starting the war, flew off to the 

heights of Olympus in search of Juno. 

Finding her in the great bronze hall 

of the palace she addressed her in 

haughty tones of triumph. 'See how 

the work of discord has been completed 

and the land is now wrapped in 

the horrors of war! Now bid them 

come together in friendship and make 

a truce. You have seen I can start a 

war, but just give the word and I will 

give thee a further boon by involving 

all the neighbouring cities. I will

inflame every person's soul with such 

martial passion that all other 

thoughts will be driven from their 

mind and they will care for nought 

but a chance to kill their enemy.' 

'There is panic and treachery 

enough.' Replied Juno. 'The men are 

fighting hand to hand or with weapons 

that only chance has put in their 

hands and so the seeds of war have 

clearly been deeply sown. But new 

weapons are being made and as a 

result of the nuptial alliance between 

the son of Venus and King Latinus, 

there is no doubt that they will be 

used. Nevertheless, if Father Zeus 

were to see a fiend of the deep 

walking the upper air, his wrath 

would know no bounds, so it would 

be best if you returned to whence you 

came. But fear not! Now that you

have begun the war, should there be a 

chance to make matters worse, I 

myself will deal with it.' 

So spoke the daughter of Saturn 

and the fury, lifting her wings which 

sparkled with a serpent's plumage, 

dropped from the heights of Olympus 

and sought her home in the depths 

of Cocytus. 

There is a place in the bosom of 

Ausonia, under the shadow of lofty 

hills and known even in far off lands 

as the vale of Amsanctus. There in 

the gorge between two steeply 

forested slopes is a river and also a 

great cavern which reaches down 

into the bowels of the earth. From its 

mouth comes a putrid smell and it 

is an entrance into the pit of 

Acheron. It was into here that the fury 

dived and by doing so, relieved the

earth of her loathsome presence. 

As Alecto travelled to the bowels 

of the earth, the whole company of 

rustics retreated from the battlefield 

carrying their dead comrades and also 

calling on the gods and demanding 

that their king do something about 

what had happened. King Turnus 

was on the spot and in his fury, 

sounded the note of terror. 'The 

Trojans,' he shouted, 'are invited to 

reign in Latium and a Trojan branch 

is to be grafted onto the royal tree 

of Latinus. The king is surely shutting 

the palace door upon both himself 

and his offspring.' 

As he spoke the husbands and 

sons of the women who were with 

Queen Amata and sharing in her 

Bacchic madness, gathered round 

King Turnus and strained the throat

of Mars to hoarseness with their calls 

for war. Also, following Amata's lead 

and defying both the omens and 

oracles, the women returned from the 

forest and also clamoured for 

atrocious war. Each trying to outdo 

the other, men and women swarmed 

around the palace and cried for blood. 

But King Latinus stood firm and 

unshaken. He was like a great rock in 

the sea which, fixed to the bottom by 

its own weight, stands firm before the 

onrush of storm tossed waters. 

However, when he found that he was 

on his own and that no one would 

support his desire for a peaceful 

solution, he cried out, 'Alas! We are 

driven before the storm and broken 

on the wheel of Fate. On you, my 

wretched children, will come the 

reckoning.' Then pointing at the

young King Turnus he said. 'You, 

most of all, will suffer for your 

crime and you will suffer on a day 

when it is too late to pray to heaven. 

For me, I am old and my rest is 

assured. My ship, which only stopped 

in the harbour of this world for a short 

time, is about to depart and I am only 

sorry that I have been robbed of a 

happy exit.' 

After this he said no more but 

shut himself up in an inner chamber 

of the palace and allowed the reins of 

empire slip from his hands. 

There was a custom in those days 

involving the two folding gates of 

war which, fastened by a hundred bars 

made of iron, were clothed with 

religious awe and the terrors of Mars 

the Cruel. This custom was 

considered to be so sacred that it was

later observed by the cities of Alba 

and is now honoured in Rome, the 

greatest power on earth. The custom 

is that when men first stir the War 

God to battle, whether their purpose 

is to carry terrible war among the 

Gatae, the Hyrcanians, the Arabs or to 

track the Morning Star to its home 

and march as far as India, when the 

fathers finally decide on battle, the 

consul himself, dressed in his most 

sacred clothes unbars the grating 

portals and, with his own voice, 

invokes battle. At this the rest of the 

warriors take up the cry and, in 

unison, the massed trumpets blare out 

their assent. Thus it was that then too, 

Latinus was urged to open the War 

God's gates and declare war on the 

family of Anaeas. But the honourable 

old king recoiled from this request

and, to protect himself from the 

unceasing calls for war, shrouded 

himself in an impenetrable gloom. 

But when she saw him do this the 

Queen of Heaven flew into a rage 

and darted down from the sky and 

with her own royal hand, she smote 

the portals and burst their fastenings. 

Flinging open the doors she watched 

as all of Ausonia, sluggish and slow 

till then, blazed up into a fury. Some 

began by making their way to 

Latium on foot while others stormed 

through the dust in their chariots. But 

however they came, one and all cried 

out for arms. Everywhere men were 

polishing their shields or sharpening 

their spears and axes and there was 

joy in the sight of the standard as it 

was carried through the streets. 

Everyone could hear the trumpets

aying and in the great cities of 

Atina the mighty, Tiber the proud, 

Ardea, Crustumium and tower 

crowned Antemnae, anvils were put 

to work as men made new weapons 

or gave new edges to old ones. Other 

men made helmets or breastplates 

or stretched tin into polished greaves. 

All the pride of bringing in the 

autumn harvest or of ploughing the 

fields in spring was forgotten as men 

prepared for war and while in one 

place a man snatched his spear and 

shield from a wall of his house, in 

another a man yoked his snorting 

steeds to his chariot and in yet 

another a man put on his helmet and 

strapped his sword to his side. 

As soon as King Turnus had set 

up the ensign of war on the towers of 

his city and his horns had sounded

their harsh note, all of Latium rose 

up and the warrior bands were 

inflamed with the madness of war. 

The chieftains, Messapus, Ufens and 

even Mezentius, who was a scorner 

of the gods, assumed their 

commands and, mustering help from 

all sides, unpeopled the fields of their 

workers. Venulus was sent with a 

message to the mighty Diomedes 

which begged for help and also 

informed him that Anaeas, after 

announcing that he was destined to 

be the king of Latium, was trying to 

establish a home for the gods of Troy 

on the banks of the River Tiber. It 

also told him that many were flocking 

to his standard and what, it asked, 

would happen if fortune should 

favour the Trojans? Would they then 

make war on their old enemies?

But as the clouds of war were 

gathering in Latium, Anaeas was 

tossed about on a sea of cares; 

worrying now about this difficulty 

and now about that. In one moment 

he was throwing the full force of his 

mind against one problem but finding 

that this problem was inextricably 

mixed up with others, he found himself 

forced to search for a deeper 

and more far-sighted solution. One 

which would encompass as many of 

his predicaments as possible with a 

single course of action. But when 

night fell and the animals of the 

forest lay down to sleep, the good 

king, still deeply troubled by the 

thought of war, stretched himself out 

on the river bank under the starry sky 

and at last let Sleep steal over his 

weary frame. But as he slept, there

appeared before him, in the form of 

a human, the god of the place, Old 

Tiber of the Flowing Waters, who 

relieved his cares by addressing him 

thus. 'Offspring of heaven,' said the 

river, 'who is bringing back to Italy 

the spirit of Troy and preserving the 

Pergamos; you have spent years 

searching for Ausonian soil and the 

fields of Latium and now that you 

have arrived, you have at last found 

your place of rest. Here, and doubt it 

not, there is a permanent home for 

your gods and your people, so don't 

be discouraged by the threat of war 

because the gods on Olympus are on 

your side. Even now, so that you may 

not think of these words as just the 

idle coinage of restful sleep, under an 

oak tree on my bank there is an 

enormous swine lying with a litter of

thirty new born babes; white herself 

throughout her lazy length and her 

children round her breasts as white as 

she. This is a sign to let you know that 

when thirty years have made their 

circuit, Ascanius will establish a city 

known by the illustrious name of 

White. But if you will grant me 

your attention, I will now tell you 

how to overcome your present 

difficulties. On my banks, upstream, 

live the Arcadians, a people who 

were nurtured by Pallas Athene 

herself and who have followed King 

Evander and his banner. They have 

built a city in the hills and have 

given it the name Pallanteum. These 

people are forever engaged in war 

with their Rutulian neighbour and so 

you must ask them to join your camp 

as allies. I myself will guide you

etween my banks so that as you 

journey upstream, your oars may 

surmount all my adverse currents. Up 

then, goddess-born and before the 

stars have set, offer a prayer to 

Juno and calm both her anger and 

her menace with suppliant vows and 

offerings. But, when you have done 

that, you must pay your worship to 

me for I am he whom you see here 

beside you with brimming waters 

which thread their way through the 

richest of lands. I am Tiber. The 

river the gods love best.' 

Having said this the river god 

plunged back into his flowing waters 

and Sleep immediately fled from 

Anaeas who, with his eyes fixed on 

the saffron hint of coming dawn, rose 

and after gathering water from the 

river in the hollow of his hands,

poured out prayers to heaven. 

'Laurentian nymphs,' he said, 'from 

whom the rivers derive their birth, 

and you, Father Tiber, with thy 

hallowed flood, take me, Anaeas, to 

your bosom and relieve me of my 

perils, Be with me always and confirm 

your promise with heavenly tokens.' 

So saying he drank the water in 

his hands and rose from the water's 

edge. After also offering a sacrifice to 

Juno, he chose two of the smaller 

ships from his fleet and, after arming 

his best rowers, he ordered them to 

take their places on the benches. 

Some time later, after the ships 

had cast off and had been making their 

way upstream for a while, a sudden 

portent, marvellous to see and 

stretched out in milk white along the 

grassy bank and with her litter of the

same colour as she, was an enormous 

swine. When he saw it Anaeas 

immediately altered course and made 

for the bank and there he set up an 

altar on which he sacrificed both the 

swine and her litter of thirty babes to 

mighty Juno. 

When due reverence had been 

paid to the Queen of Heaven he 

ordered his men back to the ships and 

continued on his way upstream. As 

they surmounted the long meanders 

of the river, none could fail to marvel 

at the richness of the land through 

which they were passing and for the 

whole day and the following night, 

Tiber smoothed his brimming waters 

and eased the passage of the ships. 

But on the morning of the next day, 

far off in the distance, all could see 

the gleam of polished bronze

winking at them in the sunlight. 

Heartened by the sight the rowers laid 

on their oars with a will and when 

the sun had climbed into the centre 

of the sky, they rounded a bend in 

the river and saw a citadel and the 

roofs of a straggling habitation before 

them. This was the place which the 

powers of Rome have since made 

to mate with the skies, but in those 

days it was but King Evander's poor 

domain. 

It happened that on the day of 

Anaeas' arrival, the Arcadian monarch 

was performing a yearly sacrifice in 

a leafy grove outside his city. 

Together with his son Pallas, the pick 

of his warriors and his unambitious 

senate, he was offering incense to the 

heavenly brotherhood and 

Amphitryon's mighty child. The

newly shed blood had just begun to 

stream down the altar when one of the 

senate looked up and saw the two 

ships gliding towards the city through 

the shadowy trees and plying their 

oars in silence. All were alarmed by 

his shout and, when they saw the 

reason for his cry, they started up 

from the sacrificial table. But Pallas, 

bolder than the rest, told them not 

interrupt their sacred observance. He 

could see the ships were crewed by 

warriors and so picking up a bronze 

headed spear, he called on the 

warriors to follow him and together 

they raced down to the river bank to 

meet the strangers. 'Warriors!' He 

called as the ships approached. 'What 

cause has led you to venture here? 

Whither are you bound? Who is 

your family and what is your nation?

Is it peace you bring or war?' 

Anaeas, who was standing on the 

prow of the leading vessel and 

holding in his hand a branch of 

peaceful olive replied. 'We are 

Trojans and the weapons you see 

mean hostility to the Latins who are 

driving us from their land with 

tyrannous war. Our errand is to King 

Evander. Take back our message 

and say that chosen chiefs of Dardany 

are at his gate and in search of an 

armed alliance.' 

The mighty name of Dardany 

struck awe into Pallas and so he 

cried. 'Disembark, whoever you are. 

You must speak to my father in 

person.' 

So saying he held out his hand 

to Anaeas and clung to the one he 

received in return. Then Pallas with

Anaeas and a few of his men left the 

river behind and went up to the grove 

where Evander was honouring the 

gods. When brought before the king by 

Pallas, Anaeas addressed him in 

friendly tones. 'Best of the sons of 

Argos, to whom it has pleased 

Fortune that I should make my prayer 

and stretch out the boughs of peace. 

I did not fear that you were a Danaan 

leader or an Arcadian who was allied 

by lineage with King Agamenmon 

and his brother. Instead I felt our 

meeting was willed by the gods and 

that our destinies are linked. 

Dardanos, who was the first father 

and founder of Troy, was born, as 

Argives tell, of Electra the daughter 

of Atlas, who bears upon his 

shoulders the spheres of heaven.

Your progenitor was Mercury who 

was born to the beautiful Maia on 

the summit of Cyllene. But Maia, if 

tradition is to be believed, is also a 

child of Atlas and that means our two 

races come from one and the same 

stock. Trusting to this I sent no 

embassy and nor did I contrive my 

first approaches to you by accepted 

rule and method. In my own person 

I have come to your city gates as a 

suppliant because the same tribe 

which persecutes you is now 

persecuting us with cruel war and 

should they drive us away, they 

foresee nought to prevent them from 

subduing all Hesperia and mastering 

the sea on both sides of the peninsula. 

Take our friendship then and give us 

yours for on our side are hearts 

which are valiant in war and our

gallant youth has been proved by 

years of hardship.' 

As Anaeas had been speaking 

King Evander had allowed his eyes to 

scan the speakers countenance and 

surveying his whole frame. 

'With what joy, bravest of 

Dardanians,' he answered, 'do I 

welcome and acknowledge you! How 

well I recall the voice and look of the 

great Anchises; your father. I 

remember how King Priam, son of 

Laomedon, when journeying to 

Salamis to see the kingdom of his 

sister Hesione, visited my parents on 

the chill frontier of Arcadia. In those 

days the first bloom of youth was 

clothing my cheeks and I could not 

help but admire Laomedon's royal 

son. But the carriage of Anchises 

struck me as being nobler than that of

King Priam and my mind was kindled 

with a youth's desire to speak to one 

so great, and also exchange the 

grasping of hands. I made my 

approach and later, when he had 

honoured me with his attention and 

his hand, I conducted him around the 

walls of Pheneus. When we parted 

he gave me a beautiful quiver filled 

with Lykian arrows, a bright scarf 

embroidered with threads of gold and 

two bridles with golden bits; all of 

which are now owned by my son 

Pallas. So now I plight you herewith 

the hand you ask and as soon as 

tomorrow's light shall restore to the 

earth its blessing, I will send you 

back rejoicing with more warriors 

than you brought and also reinforced 

with stores. Meanwhile, since you 

have arrived here as friends, join us

now in solemnising this, our yearly 

celebration, which it would be a sin to 

postpone and also accustom 

yourselves to the hospitality of your 

new allies.' 

This said he led the Trojan 

warriors to seats near the alter and 

bestowed a special honour on Anaeas 

by seating him on a throne of maple 

wood and also giving him a heaped 

cushion made from a shaggy lion's 

hide. Then, after the king had sent 

for the remainder of the men on the 

ships, the chosen youths and priests 

of the sacrifice brought in the roasted 

carcasses of bulls and heifers along 

with plenty of wine and baskets piled 

high with freshly baked bread. The 

king then honoured Anaeas and his 

Trojan warriors once more by offering 

them the bull's long chine and its

sacrificial entrails. 

When all had had their fill, King 

Evander turned to Anaeas. 'Don't 

think that we have forgotten the gods 

of old,' he said quietly, 'and that 

these solemnities and ritual feastings 

have been riveted on us by idle 

superstition. No, guests from Troy, it 

was deliverance from cruel terror 

which causes us to make sacrifices 

and give worship where worship is 

due. If you cast your eyes on those 

great rocks over there and note how 

they are flung hither and thither and 

also how desolate and exposed the 

recess in the mountainside looks, let 

me tell you that the recess was once 

a cave of great depth and was 

inhabited by the terrible Cacus who 

was half man and half brute. The 

sun's rays could never pierce his

gloomy cave and the ground around 

the entrance was always steaming 

with the fresh carnage of whatever he 

had killed. In the entrance, to scare 

us away, he hung dead human forms 

which he had splashed with blood and 

hideous gore. This monster's father 

was Vulcan and murky were the fires 

which he disgorged from his mouth 

as he strode through the mountains 

and terrified us all. But he was so 

large and fearsome there was nothing 

any of us could do to end his killing 

sprees. However, eventually a divine 

helper arrived in the form of Alkides, 

the mightiest of avengers who had 

slaughtered the triple Geryon and was 

driving along this road as a 

conqueror. His wagon was pulled by 

giant oxen and his cattle followed 

contentedly behind. But Cacus,

infatuated by a fiendish frenzy, could 

not leave a crime untried and so one 

night he carried off four bulls of 

goodly form and also four heifers 

of surpassing beauty. Also, so that 

they might leave no trace of where 

they had gone he picked each one up 

and carried it to his cave. Thus anyone 

who searched for the missing cattle 

could find no trace of it. However, 

when Amphitryon's son was at last 

removing his feasted herds from their 

stalls and preparing to leave our 

country, the oxen gave a farewell 

low which filled the whole woodland 

and reverberated from the hills 

around. One of the heifers held 

prisoner in the cave heard the sound 

and returned it and, as at that moment 

the door of the cave happened to be 

open, her jealous captor could no

longer conceal her presence. At this 

Alkides' wrath blazed up from the 

blackest part of his heart and 

snatching up his great club, he made 

at full speed for the mountains's 

height. But when the giant Cacus saw 

Alkides approaching in all his fury, 

his limbs began to tremble and his 

eyes quailed and, as fear put wings 

upon his feet, he flew swifter than the 

wind as he sought the safety of his 

den. But scarce had he let down the 

huge stone which barred the entrance 

and shut himself in when lo! the son 

of Amphitryon was there in his fury 

and looking hither and thither as he 

searched for a way in; all the time 

growling like an animal and gnashing 

his teeth in anger. Three times he 

tried to open the stony portal but three 

times the effort proved too much for

him and, in his despair, he sat down 

in the hollow and looked around him. 

On the mountainside over the mouth 

of the den was a great, rounded rock 

and Alkides realized that if this could 

be moved, it would almost certainly 

expose the cave beneath. So, 

setting to work and calling on all of 

us for help, he built a framework of 

wood to give him leverage and then 

with a great pole and the help of our 

strongest men, he rolled the rock 

from its position and sent it crashing 

down the mountainside and into the 

river with a roar which shook heaven 

itself. As Alkides had guessed, the 

vast halls of Cacus' den were 

unroofed and the dark recesses were 

opened to the rays of the sun which 

lightened up the ghastly gloom and 

exposed the realms of filth. Surprised

y this burst of light Cacus stared up 

and gave a strange and hideous roar 

while Alkides, from above, showered 

down his darts and whatever rocks 

he could lay his hands on. However, 

Caucus, seeing that there was no hope 

of flight, decided to remain in his den 

and plunged the whole cave into 

darkness by vomiting huge volumes 

of black smoke from his throat. This 

blotted out all hope Alkides had of 

seeing where his cattle had been 

hidden, but such was his rage that he 

jumped into the cave and ran to where 

the smoke was thickest. Then coming 

up behind Cacus he wrapped his arms 

around the beast's throat and squeezed 

until Cacus choked and could no 

longer vomit smoke. Cacus, in his 

pride, initially made the mistake of 

trying to remove Alkides from his

ack and throw him to the ground, 

but no matter how often he tried, he 

was unable to get a good grip on 

his attacker's body. Eventually, 

when he realized he would not be 

able to dislodge his attacker, he had 

become so weakened by the lack of 

air that when he tried to use his great 

arms and superior strength to remove 

the arms of Alkides from his throat, 

a matter which should have been easy 

for him, he was too exhausted and so 

could not unlock the powerful arms 

which encircled his neck. As Alkides 

continued squeezing, the lack of air 

slowly robbed Cacus of the power to 

think and he eventually fell to the 

ground with a crash. But Alkides held 

on and refused to let go of the neck 

until he was certain that Cacus was 

dead. When there could be no doubt

that the beast was dead, Alkides 

slowly released his grip and as the 

fresh wind had cleared the smoke 

from the den, he was able to see his 

plundered oxen and heifers and all 

the other spoils the beast had stolen 

during his reign of terror. Then, 

after bringing his cattle out into the 

light he grabbed the hideous carcass 

of the giant by its heels and with the 

help of some of our strongest men, 

dragged it from the den. Those of 

us who stood around watching were 

treated to a sight of that dreadful, 

though lifeless form which had 

terrified us for so long. Since then, in 

grateful acknowledgment of the 

service rendered to us, we have 

joyfully observed the anniversary of 

that day; foremost among us Potitius, 

founder of both the ceremony and the

Pinarian house and also priest of the 

temple of Herakles. He himself set 

up the altar in this grove which shall 

forever be named by us as the most 

important.' 

The king paused for a moment 

and looked happily at the great stones 

which littered the ground where the 

mouth of the cave had once been. 'But 

come, warriors of Troy,' he continued, 

'and in honour of aid so divine, 

wreath your head with leaves and 

hold in your hands brimming cups of 

wine so you can invoke our common 

deity and pour out libations with a 

glad heart.' 

As he finished he gave a golden 

cup of wine to Anaeas and ordered 

the youths to make sure all cups were 

filled. He then led the group in their 

prayers and made libations to both

heaven and Alkides. 

As darkness began to fall the 

priests and their chief, Potitius came 

up from the city in a procession 

wearing their ritual animal skins and 

bearing torches in their hands. 

Reaching the altar they renewed their 

solemn oaths and piled it with fresh 

food and incense. After them came the 

Salii with their heads wreathed with 

boughs of poplar and with them came 

a company of youths and another of 

old men who began to extol in song 

the glories and deeds of Herakles and 

how, in his cradle, by the pressure 

of his little hand, he had strangled the 

two serpents which were his 

stepmother's monstrous messengers 

and also how, in later years, that same 

hand had dashed mighty cites such as 

Troy and Oechalia to the ground.

They also sang of how, as a result of 

vindictive Juno's hatred, Herakles 

had endured those many heavy 

labours while a slave to king 

Eurystheus and how later, as an 

unconquered hero, he had slain the 

two formed children of the cloud; 

Hylaeus and Pholus and also the 

enormous lion which dwelt beneath 

Nemea's rock. More songs told of 

how he never quailed at anything in 

bodily shape; not even at the 

towering Typhoeus himself and 

neither did his reason desert him when 

Lerna's many headed serpent coiled 

its great body around him, the 

offspring of Zeus, and tried to squeeze 

him to death. With such words the 

songs commemorated Herakles and 

the singers continued the ceremony 

with a song about Alkides and his

fight with the Cacus; the monster of 

the cave who had breathed fire and 

smoke from his lungs. As evening 

stretched into night and the brightness 

of the stars replaced the fading light 

of the sun, the entire grove echoed 

with the voices of the singers and all 

who listened were spellbound by the 

beauty of the voices and the memories 

embedded in the songs. 

When the sacrifice and chanting 

were finally over, the gathering 

broke up and everyone began making 

their way back to the city. However, 

the old king, mossed over with years, 

kept Anaeas by his side and together 

they discussed a wide variety of 

issues. Anaeas was fascinated by 

everything the old man had to say 

and, in his eagerness to find out 

more about the men of old, he could

not stop the questions pouring from 

his lips. Then the first builder of 

Rome's tower crowned hill said. 'This 

area was first inhabited by native 

Fauns and Nymphs and also by a race 

of men who sprang from the trunks 

of oak trees. They had no laws or 

culture and never learned to yoke an 

ox, gather the harvest or husband 

their reserves. They survived solely 

by hunting and picking fruit from the 

trees. The first change came from 

Saturn, the god known to you as 

Kronos, who arrived as an exile after 

he had been cast from Olympus by 

Father Jove, the god you know as 

Zeus. He immediately gathered the 

people, untamed and scattered over 

mountain heights though they were, 

and gave them laws to live by. He 

also chose the name of Latium for the

country because he had found it a safe 

hiding place. The legend is that this 

was a golden age because his rule 

over the people was calm and 

peaceful but, when Jove finally 

managed to imprison Saturn in the 

depths of Tartaros, there gradually 

crept in a race of people who were 

of coarser grain and duller hue and 

who were also obsessed by greed and 

the frenzy of war. These immigrants, 

because they were so many and had 

so many children, gradually tore the 

structure of the that great society 

apart and everyone went back to 

living in little groups and surviving 

as basic hunter gathers. But then 

came the Ausonian and Sicanian 

tribes and, as a result of the endless 

wars, king followed king and the 

land changed its name many times.

There was one king, Thybris, who 

was a terrible savage and reigned for 

a long time and it is from him that the 

River Tiber got its name, though the 

authentic name of ancient Albula has 

been lost to us. I myself, after 

voyaging to the ends of the sea, was 

planted here by destiny and the divine 

will of Apollo.' 

Here the king stopped talking 

for a while and as the two men walked 

along side by side, he pointed out 

the altar and gate which was the 

Arcadians' ancient tribute to both the 

nymph Carmentis and the seer who 

had first told of the greatness which 

would follow the arrival of a foreign 

king. However, before they reached 

the city the old king took Anaeas to 

the Tarpeian temple which, although 

now gay with gold, was then rough

with untrimmed brushwood. But even 

in that day the sacred terrors of the 

place terrified the rustics and they 

shuddered at its darkness. 'This dark 

wood,' said the old king, 'and that hill 

behind it with its shaggy brow is the 

home of a god we do not know. My 

Arcadians believe that almighty 

Jove himself, when he wants to call 

up a storm, often comes here with 

his thunderbolts and shadowy aegis. 

Here, too, in the daylight, you can see 

the ruins of two towns from long ago. 

They are relics of a bygone age and 

one of the towers whose stones lie 

scattered and stretched out on the 

ground was named Janiculum and 

the other Saturnia; so it is believed 

that one was built by father Hanus 

and the other by Saturn himself; 

Jove's father.'

After this the two men made their 

way through the city gates and came 

to the humble palace in which 

Evander dwelt and, even in the 

shadowy light of the stars, Anaeas 

could see the shabby state of the 

building and the dim shapes of cattle 

as they moved about the courtyard. 

But before entering the palace the 

old king stopped. 'After he killed the 

terrible Cacus,' he said, 'the great 

Alkides stooped to enter this lowly 

home of mine and so nerve yourself, 

my guest, to look down on riches and 

humble your soul; for even Alkides 

did not disdain my dwelling or look 

down on my poverty.' So saying he 

led Anaeas through the narrow 

doorway and laid him to rest on a bed 

of dry leaves over which he placed the 

skin of a Libyan bear.

But as the dead of night 

engulfed all in sleep, on Mount 

Olympus, Venus, distracted by a 

mother's cares and disturbed by the 

menaces of the Laurentines and the 

violence of the gathering storm, 

addressed Vulcan in the privacy of 

their nuptial chamber. She began by 

putting into her voice all the tones of 

love she knew the god would 

respond to and said: 'In the old days 

of war, while the Argive kings were 

desolating Troy and knocking the 

Pergamos to the ground, there was no 

help for the suffers and I did not ask 

you to make arms for my son. No, my 

dearest lord, I chose not to task you 

and your efforts to a hopeless task; 

large though my debts to the people 

of Troy were and many the tears 

which I shed for the cruel agonies

they suffered. But now, by Jove's 

command, my son has set his foot on 

Ausonian soil and so with the past in 

my mind, I bow before him whom I 

honour most and ask that he makes 

armour for my son. The daughter of 

Nereus and the spouse of Tithonus 

both found you accessible to tears and 

so I beg you to look and see the 

nations which are mustering their 

men and the cities which are closing 

their gates to my son and levelling 

their spears against him.' 

The speech ended, the beautiful 

goddess lovingly embraced her 

undecided lord with her snowy arms. 

In but a few moments she saw the 

triumph of her art and felt what 

beauty could do because suddenly 

Vulcan caught the fire of her love and 

a well known heat shot through his

vitals and threaded its way through 

his whole frame. Then the lame god, 

subdued by everlasting love, spoke: 

'Why fetch your excuses from so far? 

What has happened, my queen, to 

your old belief in me? Had you then 

been as anxious, even if destiny did 

not wish Troy to stand and King 

Priam to reign for ten more years, I 

would have made arms for your son 

which were stronger and more deadly 

than those I made for Achilles. But 

now, war is in the offing, I promise 

that what weapons I can make, I will.' 

This said he gave her the embrace 

she longed for and, laying his head on 

her bosom, wooed the calm of her 

every limb. 

Next morning, as soon as rest had 

driven sleep from his brow the Lord 

of Fire rose from his couch of down

to the toils of an artisan. Leaving high 

Olympus he flew to his island hard by 

the Sicanian coast and Aeolian Lipari 

and which was capped by a fiery 

mountain beneath which lay a great 

cavern; the den of Aetna, which had 

been blasted out by his servants, giant 

Cyclops who had been cowed into 

obedience and were now forging 

items of all kinds. When the god 

arrived the sound of mighty bellows 

echoed throughout the cavern and 

within this roar could be heard the 

crash of hammers as they beat the 

bronze into shape. In the hands of two 

was the cast of a thunder bolt; one 

of those which the Great Father 

showers down on earth from all 

quarters of heaven. It had been 

polished but was not yet ready for 

use as it still had to be blended to

its terrible fire. In another part of the 

cavern a chariot was being built for 

Mars; the style and golden gleam of 

which was designed to affect the mind 

and so rouse warriors and even 

whole cities to the madness of war. In 

yet another part a group was making 

an aegis similar to the one carried by 

angry Pallas; with hissing snakes 

wreathed together under the face of 

the Gorgon herself; her eyes rolling 

and her severed neck dripping blood 

which was being drunk by snakes 

below. 'Away with all this!' Cried 

the god when he arrived, 'Take your 

unfinished tasks elsewhere and give 

your attention to me. Arms are 

needed for a fiery warrior and so now 

is the time to show what you are 

capable of. So throw away your 

sloth and turn delay into despatch.'

He said no more but with a speed 

that defied their great bulk, the 

Cyclops put their shoulders to the 

work. Copper and gold flowed in 

streams and bronze which knows how 

to wound was melted in the huge 

furnace. Then they set up the outline 

of a mighty shield which was 

designed to withstand all Latian 

weapons. As the work progressed 

some operated the great bellows 

which took in air and before giving 

it out with a great roar while others 

dipped the hissing copper into the 

lake. The cave reverberated with the 

sound of the work and all around the 

giants were gripping white hot pieces 

of ore in their tongs and hurling it to 

where it was needed and there 

another caught it neatly with their 

tongs before placing it on an anvil

and beating it into shape. 

But while Vulcan was making 

armour for Anaeas, Evander was 

roused from his sleep by the genial 

light of the dawn and the chirping 

of birds in the trees outside. The old 

man rose and, after drawing a tunic 

over his bony frame, bound some 

Tyrrhenian sandals to his feet and 

slung a sword from Tegea over his 

shoulder. Over this he placed a 

spotted panther's hide which hung to 

his left and, as he made his way to 

the room of his guest, he was 

attended by two large dogs. Arriving 

he found Anaeas already astir and 

together, after collecting Pallas and 

Achates from their rooms, the four 

men went out to a private part of 

the yard where they could at last 

enjoy the privilege of serious talk.

'Mightiest leader of the Dardans,' 

the old king began, 'whom, while 

heaven preserves I shall never 

admit that Troy was vanquished or 

her realm overturned. We ourselves 

have but small means of martial aid 

to back our great name because 

although we are bounded on one side 

by the Tuscan river, on the other we 

are beleaguered by the Rutulians of 

King Turnus who frequently attack 

our city and so keep us poor. But I 

am king of a mighty nation with an 

imperial heritage and am ready to 

unite with you. It was, you should 

know, at the summons of Destiny that 

you came here because not far away 

is the city of Agylla which is built of 

ancient stone and is where the old 

Lydian nations, who are renowned 

in war, took their place on the

Etruscan mountains. However, after 

many long and prosperous years the 

city's throne was occupied by a new 

king who ruled by terror and the 

sword. I don't have the time to 

recount the despot's dreadful murders 

and all his savage deeds, but may the 

gods keep them in mind and bring 

them back on his own head and also 

his family's. Nay! So inventive was 

he in his lust for torture that he 

sometimes even linked together the 

dead and the living, binding hand to 

hand so that face was next to face so 

that, in the slime and poison of a 

sickening embrace, the victim would 

die a lingering death. However, 

wearied by this oppression, his 

subjects finally took up arms and 

besieged the monster in his palace. 

They slew his retainers and burnt

the palace, but amid the carnage 

King Mezentius himself managed to 

escape to Rutulian territory and there 

he was given shelter by King Turnus. 

So all Etruria has now risen up in 

righteous wrath and, at the point of the 

spear, they are demanding the king 

be surrendered to their vengeance. 

Of these thousands, Anaeas, I will 

make you a chief. Their ships are 

gathering on the coast and all are 

calling for the trumpet to sound. But 

they have been held back by an aged 

soothsayer and his fateful utterance: 

"Chosen warriors of Maeonian land, 

the power and soul of an ancient 

nation, who the memory of 

Mezentius inflames with righteous 

fury and who just resentment 

launches against the foe; no Ausonian 

may take the reins of a race so

proud. You must choose a foreigner 

to lead you." 

'Because of this the whole 

Etruscan army, awed by the 

heavenly warning, has settled down 

on yonder plain by the coast. Tarchon 

himself has sent me ambassadors with 

the royal crown and sceptre and 

asked me to assume the throne. But 

age, with its enfeebling chill and the 

exhaustion of its long years, 

begrudges me the honour of 

command. My day of martial prowess 

is past and though I would have 

handed the task to my son, the blood 

of a Sabine mother makes him half 

Ausonian. You, however, are in no 

way Italian and so can assume 

command of the army. I will also 

send Pallas with you so that under 

your tutelage he may learn more of

the military arts and also of the War 

God's strenuous labours. You have 

fought on the plains of Ilios against 

men like Achilles, Diomedes and 

Odysseus; so allow him to follow 

your lead and I will give you two 

hundred Arcadians, the flower of my 

chivalry, and he, in his own name, 

shall give you as many more.' 

Scarce had his words been 

uttered when Anaeas and Achates, 

who were both brooding in their 

hearts on the perils which faced them, 

heard a message from the goddess of 

Cythera. From a clear sky and 

seemingly from nowhere, came a peal 

of trumpets and both immediately 

looked up. Then came a second and 

third peal and they were heard by 

everyone. Every man in the city was 

both amazed and terrified by the

noise but Anaeas recognised the 

sound, and in it the promise of his 

goddess mother. 'Nay!' He cried. 

'Ask not what these wonders portend. 

That was a sign from the goddess 

who gave me birth and who told me 

that should dreadful war come, she 

would help by bringing me armour 

from Vulcan. Alas! Now this message 

has arrived, how vast is the carnage 

which is ready to burst upon us and 

how many warrior's will be tossed 

beneath the waters of Father Tiber?' 

Having said this he rose from his 

seat and followed King Evander to 

the altars where the fires from the 

previous night were still smouldering. 

There they both sacrificed chosen 

sheep and when the gods had been 

duly honoured, Anaeas went down to 

his ships on the river bank and, from

the crew, he selected the men who 

were to follow him to war; all of them 

of proven ability and eminent in 

valour. The rest he told to sail the 

ships back downstream and take 

Ascanius the news of his father's 

fortunes. 

The moment Rumour saw 

Anaeas returning from the ships with 

his men, she flew through the little 

city and spread the word that the 

warriors were marching. In their 

alarm the women rushed to the altars 

and fervently redoubled their vows; 

for fear treads on the heels of danger 

and in everyone's view, the sight of 

Anaeas and his fully armed Trojans 

caused the War God's shadow to 

loom ever larger. When the men had 

gathered outside the city walls, 

Evander clasped the hand of his

departing son and hung on to it with 

tears in his eyes. 'Ah! My son!' He 

cried. 'Would that Jove could give 

me back my bygone years and make 

me what I was when under 

Praeneste's walls I struck down his 

first rank of warriors and set a 

conqueror's torch to the pile of their 

shields. This hand which grasps you 

now also sent King Erulus down to 

Tartaros. He was a gigantic monster 

who had been endowed by his 

mother, Feronia, with three lives. 

Three times he had to be struck down 

in death and yet, on that day, this hand 

of mine killed him three times and 

thrice stripped him of his armour. 

If I was that young again I would 

never let my son be torn from my 

embrace for never would Mezentius 

have bereaved his city of so many of

its people and laid dishonour on a 

neighbour's door.' 

Without letting go of his son's 

hand, he looked up to the heavens and 

cried. 'May the gods on Olympus and 

also Jove, who is the mightiest of 

them all, have pity on an Arcadian 

monarch and give ear to a father's 

prayer. If it is heaven's will that my 

son return safely to me, then I pray 

that I may live and there will be no 

trial I cannot outlast. But if dark 

Fortune threatens a calamity, then 

be it granted to me that my life's 

thread is snapped this very day.' 

Such were the words of the old 

king and later in the day, his servants 

were seen carrying their prostrate 

monarch indoors. 

But before this prophetic 

moment, when King Evander had

finished speaking to his son and had 

unwillingly let go of his hand, the 

men formed themselves into a 

column with Anaeas and Achates 

among the first and after them the 

other Trojan nobles. Pallas himself, 

conspicuous in his gay scarf and 

decorated armour, was in the centre 

and behind him marched his own 

men. As the column began moving, 

the trembling women climbed onto 

the city's walls and watched as their 

sons and husbands slowly 

disappeared into the distance. 

After many hours of marching 

and when the afternoon sun was 

casting its slanting rays on the ground, 

the column reached the cool stream 

of Caere and the vast but sacred grove 

which was shut in by wooded hills on 

all sides. Legend has it that the old

Pelasgians had dedicated this grove 

to Silvanus, the god of the country 

and its cattle, but although it was not 

too far from where Tarchon and his 

Tyrrhenians were encamped, Anaeas 

decided it would be a good place for 

the warriors to rest and refresh their 

wearied limbs.

Book VIII 

As the men laid their arms on the 

ground and settled down to rest, 

Anaeas retired to a secluded part of 

the grove so he could consider his 

plans. But just as he sat himself 

down beneath a shady tree his mother, 

in her divine beauty, descended 

through the clouds and appeared 

suddenly before him. 'Here are the 

arms I promised you,' she said, 'and 

now you need not worry about 

daring to combat the arrogant 

Laurentians or even King Turnus 

himself.' 

So saying she sought her son's 

embrace and then turned to her helper 

Gofor, whose task it had been to

carry her gifts down from heaven, and 

told him to place them under an oak 

so her son could see the workmanship 

of her lord. As he looked at the 

helmet with its dread crest which 

vomited flame, the great sword, spear, 

shield and stiff corselet, Anaeas was 

dazzled. The heavy spear had been 

moulded to his grip and the sturdy 

shield was decorated with beautiful 

pictures of his descendants from 

Ascanius onwards and told the story 

of Italy's future. One picture showed 

a wolf with twin boys around her 

teats and, as they played, she, with her 

lithe neck bent, was caressing them 

in turns with her tongue and shaping 

their young limbs. Near this picture 

of Romulus and Remus was one 

which depicted the rape of the Sabine 

maidens in Rome's crowded streets

while the games were in progress. 

Another picture showed two kings, 

their conflict at rest, standing in arms 

before the altar of Jove with goblets 

in their hands and cementing their 

treaty with swine's blood. In another 

the descendants of Anaeas were 

grabbing up swords for freedom's 

cause while in another there were 

Gauls with their golden hair, their 

milk white necks wrapped in golden 

collars and striped cloaks hanging 

from their shoulders. Each was 

brandishing two Alpine javelins and 

using long oval shields to protect their 

bodies. On the top part of the shield, 

in relief, were shown the Salii in their 

dances around the naked Luperci and 

next to these Vulcan's servants had 

depicted the dark mansions of 

Tartarus and the torments of crime.

Also, falling through the yawning 

portals, were the notorious criminals 

of the future, the most evil of which 

still had his deceitful smile affixed to 

his mouth. Other pictures on the 

shield showed Augustus Caesar, 

Agrippa with both the winds and the 

gods at his back and also Julius 

Caesar entering the city of Rome in 

threefold triumph and, in deathless 

gratitude, consecrating three hundred 

mighty temples to the gods of Italy. 

All these pictures Anaeas scanned 

with wonder but little understanding 

as his human mind was unable to 

grasp their full significance. 

However, he did understand the 

power of the sword and spear to kill 

and the shield to protect and so, after 

thanking his mother, he donned the 

helmet, buckled the sword around his

waist, picked up the spear and 

heaved on his shoulder the fame and 

fate of grandsons yet to be.

Book IX 

But while these things were in 

progress, Juno, consort of Father 

Jove and daughter of Saturn, sent Iris 

on an errand to Turnus the Bold. It 

chanced that at that moment King 

Turnus was sitting in the grove of 

Pilumnus, his sire, and from her rosy 

lips the child of Thaumas spoke to 

him thus. 'King Turnus, what no god 

would have dared to promise your 

prayers, the mere lapse of time has 

brought to you unasked. Anaeas 

has left his settlement and gone to 

seek the realm of Evander. But that 

isn't all. He has gone to the farthest 

towns of Corythus and is busy 

arming the Lydian bands and crowds

of country folk. So why do you 

hesitate? Can you not see that now is 

the time to call for horse and car, 

throw caution to the winds and 

attack the leaderless encampment?' 

Having delivered her message 

she spread her wings and raised 

herself aloft and, as she sped up 

through the clouds, she left a 

multicoloured rainbow in her wake. 

Having recognised his visitor the 

warrior lifted his two hands to heaven 

and pursued her with this prayer: 

'Iris, fair glory of the sky, who was it 

who sent you down from heaven 

with a message for me? Tell them I 

understand their wisdom and will 

follow their command, whoever they 

are.' 

His answer given he walked 

down to the river and after scooping

some water into his hands, he called 

on the gods and burdened them with 

a multitude of vows. 

His prayers finished he gathered 

his Rutulian army and Ausonian allies 

and set off for the Trojan 

encampment. Messapus was in the 

lead while King Turnus, the overall 

commander, took his place in the 

centre. 

In the encampment the Trojans 

were alerted by the cloud raised by 

the advancing army and Caucus was 

the first to raise the alarm. 'What have 

we here my countrymen?' He called 

from the ramparts. 'What is rolling 

towards us through a cloud that's 

black as night? Quick with the 

weapons and man the walls for our 

enemy is upon us.' 

With loud shouts the Trojans

egan mounting the battlements and 

taking their defensive positions for, 

before leaving on his mission, 

Anaeas, that best of soldiers, had said 

to Menestheus and Serestus. 'Should 

aught befall us while I am away, do 

not let the enemy tempt our men to try 

their fortune on the field . It will be 

enough for them to guard the camp 

and stay safely behind the 

earthworks.' 

So now, though shame and 

anger prompted every man to an 

engagement, they took their 

positions on the wall and shielded 

themselves with closed gates. King 

Turnus, angered by this Trojan 

refusal to fight on the plain, drove 

his chariot out in front of his army 

and, with a chosen band of 

charioteers, approached the gate.

'Now, gallants,' he cried, 'which of 

you will venture out and be the first 

to fight your foe?' 

So saying he sent his javelin high 

into the air as an overture to battle 

and, in full view of the men on the 

ramparts, threw up clouds of dust as 

he proudly wheeled his chariot on 

the plain. His friends, raising their 

dreadful war cry, followed his lead 

but, as they demonstrated their skill 

with horse and chariot, they began 

to wonder at the sluggish hearts of 

the Trojan warriors. Men of proven 

military ability who stayed hidden 

behind their walls because they could 

not trust themselves to a fair field or 

fight face to face. Eventually King 

Turnus became enraged by this 

refusal to fight and rode round and 

round the walls with his friends in

search of an opening, but there was 

none. Try as he might he could 

not find a way into the encampment 

and nor could he think of a way to 

draw the imprisoned Trojans out onto 

the level ground. However, on the 

river, close to the side of the camp, 

lay the fleet which had brought the 

Trojans from Ilios and although 

shored round by earthworks, there 

was no one to defend them. The 

moment he realized this the young 

king called for fire and as soon as it 

had been produced, he led the way 

by picking up a blazing pine and 

approaching the ships. Driven on 

by his lead each soldier equipped 

himself with a flaming brand and 

behind their protective walls the 

Trojans watched helplessly as the 

multitude, with their smoky brands

sending a pitchy glare into the 

heavens, approached their fleet. 

But, what god shielded the 

Trojan fleet from a fire so terrible? 

Who was it who protected the ships 

from so vast a conflagration? The 

tale is old but its fame remains forever 

fresh. After Troy had been destroyed 

and Anaeas was fashioning his fleet 

on the slopes of Mount Ida, it is said 

that the great mother of the gods, 

the Berecyntian queen, addressed 

almighty Jove. 'My son,' she said, 

'now that you have cast your father 

into the depths of Tartaros and are 

ruler of Olympus, do not forget 

your mother and grant her a request. 

There is a forest which has been 

close to my heart for many years 

because on its mountain heights

there is a grove and it was to there 

that the people of Troy used to bring 

me their offerings. Consequently, 

when they needed ships I gave them 

wood but now my heart is wrung by 

disturbing fears. Release me from my 

dread, my son, and let a mother's 

prayer touch your heart. The 

survivors of Troy are now building a 

fleet so they can make their way to 

Latium, but I beg you to protect the 

wood that was born on my sacred 

soil.' 

'Oh mother,' replied her son. 

'Whither woulds't thou wrest the 

course of Fate? What asketh you 

for these, your favourites? Should 

I give vessels built by mortal hands 

a charter of immortality? Should 

Anaeas be able to laugh at his perils 

or should he be unsure and uncertain

as each one falls upon him? Nay, 

rather when their purpose has been 

served and they have landed the 

Dardan chief on Ausonian soil, on that 

day I will lift your wood to the state 

of immortality and in form they will 

be like the children of Nera, Doto and 

Galatea when they brest the foaming 

deep.' 

After this, by the river of his 

Stygian brother, on whose banks he 

sat, the father of men and gods nodded 

his head and with this movement 

made all Olympus tremble. 

So now that the Destinies had 

been fulfilled, when the lawless 

firebrands of King Turnus and his 

Ausonian allies were thrown on the 

ships, the raging fires roused the 

mighty mother to action and she 

chased the Fire God from her

consecrated wood. As the ships 

began to blaze a strange light 

appeared in the sky and a great cloud 

was seen racing in on the wind from 

the east and, the moment it was 

overhead, a terrible voice, which 

thrilled and terrified the ranks of both 

the Trojans and Ausonians cried out, 

'Busy not yourselves, ye 

Dardanians, to defend my ships, nor 

take weapons into your hands. King 

Turnus shall have leave to burn up the 

ocean before his fire can consume my 

sacred pines.' Later, everyone swore 

that the voice then spoke to the ships 

saying: 'Go free, my favourites, go 

and be goddesses of the sea for it is 

your own mother's voice which 

commands you.' At this each ship 

snapped her cable and, like a dolphin, 

dipped her prow and made for the

ottom of the deep river. Then, after 

a short while, a marvel to behold, all 

the ships emerged in their maiden 

forms, completely undamaged by 

the fires which only a short time 

previously had been raging 

throughout their lengths. 

At this the Ausonians were seized 

by amazement and Messapus himself 

was overcome by terror. There was 

also confusion among the horses 

and even Father Tiber paused for a 

moment in his course towards the 

sea before starting to flow again. But 

bold King Turnus was not to be 

daunted by such wonders and he 

quickly began encouraging his braver 

men while upbraiding those who 

looked as if they might flee. 'It is 

against the Trojans,' he cried pointing 

at the ships which were now drifting

out to sea, 'that these portents are 

directed. Father Jove has robbed 

them of their needed ships without 

even waiting for Ausonian fire and 

sword to do the work for him. Yes! 

The sea is now impassable to the 

Trojans and they now have no hope 

of flight. As for the earth, it is in 

our hands, thanks to the tribes of 

Ausonia who are standing here in 

their thousands behind me. I am not 

scared by fateful utterances from 

heaven, be they what they may. Fate 

and Venus have had license enough 

in that the Trojans have set foot on 

our rich Italian soil. But I too have a 

fate of my own and that is to mow 

down with both my spear and sword 

the guilty nation which stole my 

bride. I, like Kings Agamenmon and 

Menelaos, also have the right to go to

war on behalf of a stolen bride. It 

seems,' he continued with a laughing 

sneer in his voice, 'that one 

destruction was not enough for them! 

You'd think the Trojans would have 

learned from their last transgression 

and would now loath the very thought 

of a foreign bride! They also still 

seem to think that they can put trust 

in walls, but did they not see their 

great city of Troy, the walls of which 

were built by the hands of Neptune 

himself, sink into the flames?' 

Turning and looking at the men 

who listened to him he cried. 'But 

you, my chosen men, who among you 

is ready to knock down those 

ramparts and rush with me on their 

bewildered camp? I need not the 

arms of a god nor a thousand ships for 

my Trojan war. Let all of Etruria join

them and still I will not skulk inside 

a horse's womb while pretending it is 

a gift to the gods. In broad day and 

in the sight of all, I stand pledged to 

put a ring of fire around their walls 

and I will not let them think they 

are dealing with the Achaians whom 

Prince Hector kept at bay for so many 

years. But now, since the better part 

of the day is spent, for what 

remains of it my gallants, refresh 

yourselves with wine and food and 

be assured that battle will come.' 

After ordering Messapus to 

mount a watch on the gates he 

entrusted the task of throwing a ring 

around the Trojan encampment to 

fourteen of his allied chiefs; each of 

whom had at least a hundred 

warriors under his command. But 

such was the confidence of the

chiefs that as darkness began to fall 

they allowed their men to pass the 

time by drinking wine and either 

stretching themselves out on the grass 

or playing games of skill and chance. 

However, inside the encampment 

the Trojans remained alert and fully 

armed. Menestheus and Serestus 

were in command and under their 

guidance every man stayed at this post 

and remained ready for battle. 

Captain of the guard on the gate 

was Nisus, son of Hyrtacus; a keen 

soldier who was skilled in the arts of 

fighting and whom Ida the huntress 

had sent to attend Anaeas. Next to 

him was his great friend Euryalus, the 

fairest of all the youths in Anaeas' 

company. There was a common bond 

between these two men and both 

were keen to come to grips with their

enemy. But as they stood their tedious 

guard duty Nisus exclaimed. 

'Euryalus, is it the gods who impassion 

a man's heart or does each 

person's ungoverned yearning become 

their god? My heart has long ached 

with a desire to rush into battle or do 

some other mighty deed and no 

amount of peace or quiet can quell this 

urge. It seems that the Ausonians 

over there are full of confidence 

about the future because, if you look, 

you'll see the line of their fires is very 

uneven and disordered and so I've no 

doubt the men are drinking wine and 

taking it easy. So let me tell you what 

I'm thinking. Everyone here, 

including the leaders, are saying that 

a messenger should be sent to Anaeas 

to tell him about what's happening. If 

they are serious I think I could break

through those disordered defences and 

make my way to Pallenteum with a 

message. I hate the thought of 

staying cooped up in this 

encampment and the challenge of the 

deed excites me.' 

Euryalus, infected by his friend's 

ambition made sure he wasn't going 

to be left behind. 'Would you think,' 

he said, 'of leaving your friend behind 

on such an adventure? Am I to let 

you go alone on this perilous errand? 

My father, the veteran Opheltes, did 

not rear me among the Achaian terrors 

and Trojan agonies so I could spend 

the rest of my life on guard duty. You 

and I have always fought side by side 

and since following Anaeas from 

burning Troy, we have never 

hesitated to join in a fray. Within 

me is a soul which scorns the thought

of ease and feels the glory at which 

you aim would be cheaply bought 

with death.' 

'Nay,' replied Nisus, 'trust me, I 

did not think you a coward and nor 

did I feel you were not up to the task. 

But a venture like this is fraught with 

a thousand dangers and should 

anything go amiss, I would need you 

to redeem me by ransom or, if I am 

killed, to give me the funeral rights of 

a warrior and also build me a 

respectable mound. I also wouldn't 

want to cause that unhappy parent 

of yours, who alone among the many 

older matrons had the heart to turn 

her back on the great city of Acestes 

and follow you here.' 

'Spinning empty pretexts' 

Euryalus replied, 'is idle work and 

there is no change or faltering in my

esolve. So let us up and consult the 

chiefs.' 

The decision to go together 

having been made they roused the 

guard and got some men to take their 

places at the gate and then, walking 

side by side, they went to seek out 

their commanders. 

At that moment the chief leaders 

of the Dardanians, leaning on their 

long spears and holding their shields 

in their left hands, were standing 

around a fire in the centre of the camp 

and holding a council. They were 

trying to decide on what they should 

do and also whether or not they should 

send someone with a message to 

Anaeas. But when Nisus and Euryalus 

craved instant admission and said 

that the affair was great and time 

would not be wasted by listening to

them, Ascanius was the first to 

welcome and reassure them. Serestus 

asked Nisus to tell them his ideas 

and so the son of Hyrtacus began: 

'Listen with kindly heed, ye sons of 

Troy, and do not let these proffers of 

ours be judged by our youth. The 

allied Ausonians, made careless by 

sleep and wine are hushed in silence 

and we have observed a place where 

the line of fires is broken and through 

which there might be a passage. We 

should be able to break through there 

and make our way to Pallenteum. 

Give us but leave to make use of 

Fortune and go in quest of Anaeas 

and soon, after a mighty carnage and 

laden with spoils, you shall see us 

here again. Nor can the way mislead 

us as we go because we have both 

travelled far in our hunting

expeditions and know the way to 

Pallenteum well.' 

When he finished Aletes, weighty 

with years and ripe of understanding, 

spoke 'Gods of our fathers whose 

constant presence watches over us, in 

spite of all that has happened, when 

our youth shows such spirit I can see 

you do not intend to make an end of 

us.' As he said this the tears began 

to roll down his cheeks and he felt 

compelled to embrace the two youths. 

'What gallant men,' he cried, 'and what 

is worth enough to reward you for a 

deed such as this? First and richest 

of all will be the praise of heaven and 

of your own hearts. Next to these 

I've no doubt that King Anaeas and 

young Ascanius here will never 

forget a service so great.'

'Nay,' cried Ascanius, 'let me 

speak, for my safety is guaranteed by 

my age and the fact I must remain 

here until my father returns. But 

Assaracus and Vesta, the greatest of 

our household gods know I am 

placing all my hope in your hands. 

Bring back my father and let me see 

him again so that, once restored, all 

my grief will be over and in return I 

will give you, Nisus, a pair of goblets 

wrought with silver which my father 

took when he sacked Arisba. I will 

also give you a couple of tripods, two 

talents of gold and an ancient bowl 

which was given to me by Queen 

Dido herself. On top of this, if it is 

our fortune to conquer Ausonia and 

attain the crown, I will count as 

yours the horses of King Turnus 

which no man can fail to admire and

also his golden armour. Moreover, 

my father will give you twelve 

captive maidens of choicest beauty 

and as many male prisoners as you 

need to tend your fields and livestock 

and, to crown all, you will rule the 

portion of this domain now held by 

king Latinus. But you,' he said 

turning to Euryalus, 'who are closer 

to my own age, I take at once to my 

heart and no matter what happens, I 

will always call you comrade. Nisus 

will share his gifts with you but on top 

of that I promise that I will never seek 

glory for my own estate apart from 

you and, regardless of whether I have 

peace or war, what is mine I will 

always share with you.' 

To this Euryalus replied. 'Let but 

Fortune give us speed and not thwart 

our aims and no length of time shall

find me false to your generosity. But 

there is one thing I would ask of you, 

beyond all others. I have a mother of 

Priam's ancient house whom neither 

the burning city of Troy nor the city 

of King Acestes could keep from 

coming with me. Her I am now 

leaving, ignorant of this peril and with 

no word of parting because at this 

moment, I could not bear a parent's 

tears. But I pray you to comfort her 

and support her lonely age. 

Nourished by the knowledge that 

someone is looking after her I shall 

be able to meet all that happens with 

a bolder spirit.' 

Touched to the heart by these 

words all the chiefs broke into tears, 

chief among them, as a picture of 

his own mother flashed upon his soul, 

was Ascanius who said. 'Assure

yourself that your mighty deeds will 

be justly rewarded. Yes, your mother 

shall be my own mother, wanting 

in nought but the name of Creusa. To 

have borne you lays up no mean 

store of gratitude and so whatever 

fortune attends your endeavour, I 

swear by this my head, which even 

my father has been wont to swear at, 

all that I promise to you in the event 

of your prosperous return shall, in 

event of your death, remain assured 

to your mother and your house.' 

This said he allowed the ripple of 

laughter to die down and then gave 

Euryalus his sword which had been 

wrought by Lycaon of Crete and was 

fitted with an ivory scabbard. To 

Nisus Menestheus gave a lion's skin 

while Aletes, true of heart, exchanged 

helmets with him. Their arming done

the two warriors set off for the gates 

and as they went, the whole band of 

nobles, young and old, escorted them 

while reciting prayers for their safe 

return. With them too was fair 

Ascanius, in heart and forethought 

manlier than his years, giving them 

many a charge to carry to his father. 

But as the two men disappeared into 

the moonlit gloom, the winds 

scattered his words and delivered 

them cancelled to the clouds. 

After departing through the 

gate Nisus and Euryalus clambered 

quickly over the defensive trench and 

made for the hostile camp. 

Approaching the fires they could see 

many drunken Ausonians stretched 

out on the grass in their armour and 

empty wine goblets scattered around 

them and at the sight the son of

Hyrtacus called quietly to his 

friend. 'Euryalus, this occasion calls 

for action and daring hands. Keep 

watch lest any hand be lifted against 

us from behind and I will lay these 

ranks to waste and give you a broad 

path to walk in.' 

So saying he drew his tyrannous 

sword and went up to King Rhamnes 

who, pillowed on a vast pile of rugs, 

was breathing the peaceful breath of 

sleep. Although a king he was also 

an augur and a favourite of King 

Turnus, but his augury couldn't help 

him stay the sword which parted his 

head from his shoulders. Next Nisus 

slew the king's three attendants who 

were stretched carelessly on the 

grass alongside him and also his 

armour bearer and charioteer. He then 

slew three more, the youngest of

whom had gambled long into the 

night and was now lying with the 

Dream God's music in his mind. But 

happy would he have been if Lady 

Luck had been kind and allowed 

him to pursue his play into morning. 

At the sight of Nisus killing so many 

men Euryalus also became caught up 

in the lust for blood and so drawing 

his sword, he began slaying those 

who lay on the grass around him. But 

as he walked along cutting the 

throats of the drunken men on the 

ground he was seen by Rhoetus who 

was both sober and awake. But in his 

terror, instead of raising the alarm, 

Rhoetus cowered behind a massive 

rock and as Euryalus approached, 

cutting throats as he came, he rose up 

to beg for mercy. But although 

Euryalus was momentarily shocked

and stunned by his sudden 

appearance, he quickly drew back 

his arm and plunged his sword into his 

suppliant's chest. Then he stood and 

watched as the dying man sank to the 

ground and vomited his crimson life 

mixed with wine and food onto the 

grass. After this Euryalus was making 

for the dying flicker of an untended 

fire around which he could see 

Messapus and his followers sleeping 

when Nisus called quietly to him. 

'We had better cease and make our 

way out of the camp for it will soon 

be daylight and we have supped on 

vengeance to the full.' 

However, although Euryalus 

heard the call, he couldn't resist 

the opportunity of killing one more 

Rutulian and so when he reached the 

fire he quickly killed Messapus, who

he had recognised in the moonlight 

because of the helmet which lay on 

the ground alongside him. Then 

grabbing the helmet he made his way 

to Rhamnes and bending down, laid 

his hand on the belt with golden studs 

which had been sent by wealthy 

Caedicus as a present to Remulus of 

Tiber when he tried to make him his 

friend from a distance. But the dying 

Remulus had left it to his grandson 

who was later killed by Rhamnes 

in battle. This Euryalus striped off 

and fitted round his own valiant waist 

and after placing the shapely helmet 

with its graceful crest on his head, he 

joined up with Nisus and together 

the two warriors left the camp and 

passed into safety. 

But it so happened that a troop of 

men who to had been sent on from

the town of Latium to join King 

Turnus had decided to march through 

the night. There were three hundred 

in all with Volscens as their chief and 

they were just nearing the camp when 

Volscens spotted the two making their 

way towards the forest. In the 

moonlight he recognised the shapely 

helmet of Messapus and thinking 

they were thieves he shouted out. 

'Halt, gallants! Tell of who you are 

and what your errand is.' 

Euryalus and Nisus ventured no 

reply but ducked down low and 

increased their speed in the hope of 

making the forest their friend. At this 

Volscens, whose men knew the area 

well, immediately ordered all the 

known passes to be barred and a 

guard be set on every outlet. 

Unfortunately for the two Trojans,

the undergrowth of the wood was 

rich in impenetrable briars and so as 

they tried to make good their escape, 

Euryalus, who was hampered by the 

darkness, the undergrowth, his fear 

and also his booty, missed the path 

and became separated from Nisus 

who, in his haste to escape his 

pursuers, failed to notice his friend 

was no longer behind him. 

Nevertheless, when he gained the 

region later called Alban from Alba's 

name but which in that day was where 

King Latinus had his stately stalls, 

he halted and looked back in vain for 

his friend. 'My poor Euryalus,' he 

cried in a hushed whisper. 'Where 

have I left you? How can I retrace 

my steps through the tangled paths 

of this treacherous wood?' 

But despite his fears he went back

into the wood and wandered 

aimlessly through the stillness of the 

dark. Then he heard cries and the 

sound of Euryalus being pursued and 

in a few moments, shouts of triumph 

told him that his friend had been 

captured. 

'What should I do?' He thought 

to himself. 'How can I attempt a 

rescue? Should I dash though the 

thick of their spears with death 

before my eyes and hurry to a 

glorious end in a shower of 

wounds?' 

Unable to make up his mind he 

quietly made his way to the edge of 

the wood from where he could see 

the dim shapes of men struggling to 

control another he knew to be 

Euryalus. Such was his horror at the 

thought of Euryalus being taken

prisoner that he dropped one of the 

two javelins he was carrying and, 

drawing back his arm, he poised the 

other for a cast. Looking up to the 

moon, he prayed aloud. 'Thou, 

Laton's daughter, glory of the heavens 

and guardian of the woods, be thou 

present and befriend my endeavour. 

If ever my father Hyrtacus brought 

a gift to your altar and if ever I hung 

an offering from your dome or 

fastened it on your hallowed 

summit, suffer me now to confound 

this mass and guide my weapon 

through the air.' 

This said, he launched his spear 

which, after flying through the 

shades of the moonlit night, struck 

Sulmo in the midriff and knocked 

him to the ground while the life 

giving blood poured from his

stomach. This unexpected assault 

confused the Volscians who, 

although they could see nothing in the 

darkness, looked this way and that in 

an effort to locate their attacker. 

Meanwhile, Nisus, who had been 

emboldened by his success, cast his 

second javelin. This one caught 

Tagus, whose helmet had been 

knocked to the ground in the 

struggle with Euryalus, in the temple 

and the hungry bronze found a feast 

in the centre of his brain. Volscens 

shouted with fury at the loss of two 

men but could still not see where the 

attack had come from. Then looking 

at Euryalus he cried. 'You shall 

pay for these deaths with your blood,' 

So saying drew his sword and rushed 

on Euryalus. 

When he saw this, because his

grief was so terrible and he had no 

wish to continue hiding in the 

darkness, Nisus shouted: 'Over here! 

I'm over here! Make me your mark 

for mine is the blame. Euryalus had 

no hand in those deeds and the stars 

above know I speak the truth.' 

But his words were in vain as 

Volscens drove his sword into the 

chest of Euryalus and when he 

withdrew his blade he let the body 

crumple to the ground with the dark 

blood gushing out and despoiling 

the youth's beautiful limbs. Nisus, 

who was devastated at the loss of his 

friend, rushed on Volscens. In his 

mad passion he cared for nothing but 

the chance to kill the killer of his 

friend and, although he was assailed 

by weapons from all sides, he none 

the less held on his way until at last

he lodged his blade in the Volscens' 

neck. But, pierced through by his 

the weapons of his enemies, he fell on 

his breathless friend and slipped into 

the blackness of death. 

Once the Volscians had managed 

to gather their thoughts they strung 

the bodies of Nisus and Euryalus on 

poles as if they were animals which 

had been killed in a hunt. Then, with 

tears in their eyes, they reverently 

placed the bodies of their chief and 

two dead comrades on makeshift 

biers hastily constructed from spears 

and cloaks and carried them all 

reverently into the Ausonian camp. 

The commotion caused by the 

capture and killing of the two 

Trojans had roused the Ausonians and 

on their ramparts the Trojan guards 

could hear the tempo of the wailing

increase as the bodies of Rhamnes, 

and all the other men slain during the 

night were discovered. Ausonians 

from all quarters flocked to the place 

of slaughter and joined in the 

lamentations. 

Later, when grief had been 

satisfied and Dawn rose from 

Tithonus' saffron couch and 

sprinkled the world with new born 

light, King Turnus, sheathed in 

armour, summoned his men to 

arms. At his command each 

chieftain mustered his men into battle 

order and roused them to fury with 

warlike speeches. A group of 

Volscians then stuck the heads of 

Euryalus and Nisus on spears and set 

them up close to the ramparts where 

they could be seen by all the Trojans. 

At the sight Fame spread her

wings and, after flying through the 

bewildered settlement, reached the 

ears of Euryalus' mother. At once the 

vital heat left her frame, the shuttle 

fell from her hands and with a 

piercing shriek the distraught mother, 

with her tresses rent, made madly the 

walls and, caring for neither the eyes 

of men nor the showers of arrows and 

javelins fired by the attacking 

Ausonians, she climbed the ramparts. 

When she saw the head of her son 

she let out a shriek of agony which 

welled up from the depths of her 

soul. 'Is it thus, Euryalus,' she cried 

in her anguish, 'that I see you again? 

Have you, the solace of my waning 

years, had the pitiless heart to leave 

me alone? When you ventured on 

such a dangerous errand, did you not 

have the courage to come and bid me

farewell? Alas, on an unknown land 

you are lying exposed to the ravages 

of Latium's dogs and carrion birds 

while I, your mother, cannot even 

follow your corpse to its tomb. Nor 

can I close your eyes and gently 

bathe your wounds before shrouding 

you with the robe which, when I 

made the loom the medicine of an old 

wife's sorrow, I worked so hard to 

finish. Where shall I seek you? 

Where are your severed limbs and 

mutilated corpse? Is this the sole 

relic of yourself that you bring back 

to me my son? Is this what I 

followed you over land and sea for?' 

Then looking out over the 

attacking army she screamed, 'If you 

have any human feelings, ye 

Ausonians, let your weapons make me 

their first meal of the battle or else

let the Father of Men and Gods have 

mercy on me and, with a bolt of his 

lightning, take away my life for I 

cannot otherwise end the cruel pain 

of being.' 

Her wail shook every heart to 

its centre and a groan of sorrow 

passed through the ranks on both 

sides and, for a moment, their martial 

prowess flagged. But at last, as her 

cries of anguish rose higher and 

higher, Ilioneus and tearful Ascanius 

asked Idaeus and Actor to gently lay 

hold of her and carry her to a place of 

safety. 

As soon as Euryalus' mother had 

disappeared from the ramparts the 

Rutulian trumpets uttered a 

tremendous blare and this was 

followed by a great shout which the 

heavens returned. Up came the

Volscians and other tribes carrying in 

level line their penthouse of shields 

to ward off the missiles and, while 

some strove to fill in the moat, some 

tried to remove the palisade of 

spears and some, with ladders, 

picked their way through the fence 

of spears and tried to scale the walls 

where the defences were thinnest. 

The Trojans, on their part, showered 

missiles of every kind on their 

attackers and, taught by long war's 

experience on how to guard their 

walls, repulsed their assailants. They 

also kept rolling stones of great bulk 

down from the ramparts in the hope 

of breaking through the rank of 

shields which sheltered those behind, 

but behind such a firm penthouse the 

troops smiled at all the enemy threw 

at them. But then the Trojans

pushed forward an enormous rock 

which burst through the protective 

line of shields and caused havoc 

among the warriors behind. At this 

the Ausonians ceased trying to hide 

behind their shields and tried instead 

to drive the defenders from their 

ramparts with a storm of missiles 

while in another quarter, terrible to 

look upon, Mezentius waved an 

Etruscan pine and hurled fire and 

smoke, while Messapus, in his 

distinctive helmet, found a way 

through the palisade and called for 

ladders to the battlement. He lived 

only because on the previous night, 

the gods who cared for him had 

encouraged him to drink too much 

wine and so as he had staggered 

towards his bed, he had carelessly 

allowed his helmet fall to the ground

alongside the sleeping form of another 

chieftain. 

As the battle continued the death 

and slaughter dealt out by both sides 

was terrible to behold and many a 

warrior went down to Pluto's Halls 

without bidding farewell to either his 

friends or his family. 

A short distance from the 

encampment was a high tower and 

the Rutulians, with utmost force, 

were trying to storm it while the 

Trojans within defended it with stones 

and showers of arrows and javelins. 

However, King Turnus eventually 

managed to force his way to its base 

and set fire to one of its wooden 

supports. The flame gradually took 

hold and began devouring the middle 

levels of the tower and at this, the 

six inmates, confused by fear, retired

to the upper levels. But the flames, 

growing in their intensity by the 

moment, slowly consumed the lower 

part of the tower and so, with a groan, 

the upper parts collapsed to the 

ground with a crash. Most of the men 

inside were killed either by the fall 

or the huge amount of wood which 

collapsed on top of them but two, 

Helenor and Lycus, escaped. Helenor 

was in the prime of youth and had 

been secretly born to the Maeonian 

king by the slave girl Licymnia and, 

as soon as he was old enough, he had 

been secretly sent to Troy with but 

a spear, shield and naked sword. 

However, as soon as he saw himself 

surrounded by his enemy he was like 

a beast which, hemmed in by hunters 

in a close set ring, vents his rage on 

the darts and flings himself on the

line of spears and death. In such a 

manner the doomed Helenor rushed 

into the midst of his foe and made for 

where he saw the spears were 

thickest. But Lycus, far swifter of 

foot, dodged in and out among the 

ranks of Rutulians and showers of 

javelins and, gaining the encampment 

wall, strove to grasp the hands of his 

friends which were reaching down to 

help him up. But King Turnus, 

following immediately behind with 

javelin in hand, taunted him in 

victorious tones. 'Did you dream, 

poor fool, that you could escape my 

hands? ' 

With that he seized Lycus by the 

foot and after pulling him down to the 

ground, drove his javelin into his 

chest. 

At this the whole Ausonian army

aised a great cry and began filling 

the trenches with whatever they could 

find while others attacked the gates 

with blazing firebrands. At first they 

carried all before them. An unknown 

warrior killed Lucetius and Liger 

killed Emathion and Asilas. An arrow 

shot from a distance caught 

Corynaeus, who was skilled with the 

javelin, in the stomach while Caeneus 

slew Ortygius. King Turnus killed 

Caeneus, Itys and Clonius and 

Capys killed Privernus. Themilla's 

flying spear had grazed him first, but 

he, poor fool, had dropped his shield 

and clasped his hand to the wound 

and this allowed Capys' arrow, 

flying on stealthy wing, to pin his 

hand to his chest and enter his lungs. 

Then the son of Arcens, who was 

conspicuous in his bright armour

and scarf of Hiberian purple which 

had been embroidered with delicate 

needle work, left the light of day and 

went down to Pluto's Halls. Fair of 

form he had been sent to Troy by his 

father Arcens who had reared him in 

his mother's grove by the streams of 

Symaethus, where stands an altar to 

Palicus. Hurling his spears at the 

Ausonians he had been seen by 

Mezentius who whirled the strained 

thong of a sling fitted with a small 

rock thrice round his head and burst 

in twain his forehead. 

Then it is said that Ascanius 

drew in war his bow which until 

then had been used only to terrify the 

beasts of the chase and killed the 

brave Numanus who had lately won 

and wedded the younger sister of 

King Turnus. In the insolence of new

lown royalty he was out in front of 

the Ausonian host venting his pride 

and vaunting aloud things meant and 

unmeant to do. 'Are you Trojans 

not ashamed of being imprisoned yet 

again behind walls and ramparts?' He 

had shouted. 'Are you not ashamed to 

once again cower before men who 

have come to reclaim a stolen bride? 

What madness has brought you here? 

You will not find King Agamenmon 

or his brother here, nor Odysseus, 

that forger of speech. We are a 

hardier race than the Achaians and 

bring to your walls our sons who, 

schooled by want, are the strongest 

you will ever meet. At birth they 

were taken to the rivers edge and 

cruelly submerged in the cold waters 

so they would become hardened and 

as boys they spent long days in the

chase and wearied out the forest 

game with their sport. All our lives 

we Ausonians ply our weapons and 

even old age impairs not the force of 

our hearts nor weakens our love of 

war while our wives always look 

forward to the booty we bring home. 

But you, with your embroidered 

garments of saffron and gleaming 

purple, your tunics with sleeves and 

your turbans with strings: sloth is 

your delight and your pleasure is to 

indulge in the dance. I don't know 

how the Trojan dames can bear your 

company for men you are not. Listen, 

can you not hear the cymbals and 

flutes calling you to the dance? Go! 

Go to the dance and don't waste our 

time. Leave battle to men who are 

made of sterner stuff.' 

Ascanius could bear this boasting

no longer and so, fitting an arrow to 

his bowstring, he invoked Jove in a 

suppliant's prayer. 'Jove Almighty,' he 

prayed while still keeping his eye on 

the boasting Numanus, 'smile on my 

bold endeavour and each year on this 

day I will bring to your temple a 

snowy white bullock which can rear 

its head to the height of its mother's.' 

The Father of Men and Gods 

heard the prayer and from a 

cloudless quarter on the left, 

thundered at the instant the deadly 

arrow left the bow. Forth flew the 

arrow and, whizzing fearfully, 

entered the forehead of Numanus 

with a thunk and lodged in his brain. 

As he watched the body of Numanus 

crumple to the ground Ascanius 

couldn't help but cry out in joy. 'The 

Trojan answer to the Ausonians,' he

yelled, 'is to go and tell your womenfolk 

of your bravery.' 

Such was their delight at this 

success that the Trojans let out a great 

shout which reached the heavens. 

However, it chanced that at that 

moment the golden-haired Apollo was 

seated on a cloud and surveying the 

armies spread out below him and, in 

his admiration for such a fine shot, 

he addressed Ascanius in his 

moment of triumph. 'Rejoice, brave 

youth, in your new won laurels for 

this is the way men climb to the 

stars and become the sons of gods 

who are and sires of gods who to be! 

I can see why Fate has ordered that 

beneath the house of Assaracus, the 

wars of the future will find their end 

in you and your descendants.' 

So saying he descended from

heaven and made for Ascanius. But to 

avoid being recognised he took on the 

form of ancient Butes who had once 

been armour bearer to Anchises but, 

when the old man had died, he had 

been made Ascanius' guardian by 

Anaeas. Apollo, looking and 

sounding exactly like the aged 

veteran with his flowing white locks 

and fiercely clanking armour spoke 

to Ascanius with a glowing heart. 

'Suffice it, son of Anaeas,' he said, 

'that your arrow has sent Numanus 

down to Pluto's Halls. This is your 

maiden glory which great Apollo has 

given you freely and nor does he look 

with jealousy on weapons like his 

own. But for now you must abstain 

from war as a stripling should.' 

His speech finished Apollo 

vanished from mortal eyes and went

ack to Olympus. However, the 

Dardan chiefs recognised the god and 

so, at Apollo's insistence, they 

checked Ascanius' ardour for battle. 

Then taking their places in the 

combat once more they flung their 

lives into the jaws of danger. From 

rampart to rampart they shouted 

encouragement to each other and, 

bending their bows or hurling their 

javelins, they repulsed the 

Ausonians. Helmets and shields on 

the ground below protected the men 

from many of these weapons but 

some of the missiles found their 

mark and either sent the warrior down 

to Pluto's Halls or left him writhing 

on the ground and screaming in 

agony. 

Driven by the desire to engage 

in hand to hand combat the Trojan

youths Pandarus and Britias, who 

were sons of Idaean Alcanor and 

had been brought up by Iaera the 

wood nymph in a grove dedicated 

to Jupiter, threw open the gates which 

had been placed in their charge. 

Relying on their weapons which had 

once kept the Achaians from the 

walls of Troy, they brazenly invited 

the foe to enter the town. In height 

they resembled the pines and peaks 

of their birthplace and, with their men 

alongside them, they stood on both 

sides of the gate sheathed in armour 

and with the crests on their lofty 

heads waving ominously. When the 

Rutulians saw the gate open they 

made to enter the encampment. 

However, in but a moment the 

attackers were routed and forced to 

leave many of their dead comrades on

the threshold of the gate. At this the 

wrath of the Trojans flamed yet 

higher and they ventured out of the 

gate to engage in hand to hand 

combat and push the Rutulians back 

onto the plain. 

King Turnus at this time was 

venting his rage elsewhere in the line 

and driving Trojans back from the 

ramparts but, when he heard that his 

foe, fevered by the taste of blood, had 

thrown open the gates and advanced 

into the plain, he immediately left the 

work he had begun and hastened to 

where the Trojans were busy slaying 

his Rutulians. As he approached he 

hurled his javelin and slew 

Antiphates, the man who first turned 

to meet him and was a descendant 

of Jupiter because he was a bastard 

son of the great Sarpedon by a Theban

mother. The shaft of Italian cornel 

flew high up into the unyielding air 

and when it reached the apex of 

its curve, it descended and, entering 

Antiphates' mouth, it shattered his 

teeth before going deep down into 

his chest and causing the blood to 

flow in torrents from his open lips. 

King Turnus then slew three Trojans 

in quick succession and after that he 

attacked the tall Bitias. But he did 

not attack with a light javelin or 

arrow as Britias would never have 

surrendered his life to such a weapon. 

No, it was a heavy bronze tipped 

spear which, shot like a thunderbolt, 

came hurtling in as if from nowhere 

and after piercing both sturdy, well 

made shield and corselet, tumbled the 

tall Trojan to the ground. 

It was now that Mars, sitting on

Olympus with his great spear across 

his lap, was overcome by his passion 

for the cries of the vanquished 

mingled with the vaunts of their 

destroyers and so he inspired the 

Rutulians with strength and courage 

while, at the same time, sending 

Flight and Grisly Terror to visit the 

Trojans. As a result the Rutulians 

flocked towards the gate from all 

sides and Pandarus, mortified by the 

sight of his brother's corpse stretched 

out on the ground, knew that the 

posture of fortune, which had been 

swaying this way and that during the 

day, had changed sides once again 

and so, with a mighty effort, he 

closed the gate; leaving many of his 

comrades shut out of the camp. But 

as these comrades began streaming 

back he opened the gate again to allow

them though. Madman! He failed to 

see the king of the Rutulians in the 

midst of the Trojans streaming 

through and so shut him wantonly 

within the walls; like a ferocious 

tiger among a herd of helpless cattle! 

Immediately a strange light flashed 

from the eyes of King Turnus and 

his armour gave a fearful clang 

while on his helm the bright red 

crest which towered over the men 

who surrounded him, quivered in a 

menacing manner. With sudden 

horror the children of Anaeas 

recognised the hated form but the 

mighty Pandarus, filled with wrath at 

his brother's death, swallowed his fear 

and bespoke him thus with an 

attempted sneer. 'This is not the bridal 

palace of Amata and nor is it Ardea 

which embraces King Turnus in the

walls of his father's home. You are 

on your own and in your enemy's 

camp and escape is impossible.' 

'Begin if you have courage to 

engage me in combat,' replied a 

smiling King Turnus. 'In a moment or 

two you can tell King Priam that the 

Trojans have found another Achilles 

in Italy.' 

Stung by this insult Pandarus 

hurled his spear at the Rutulian king 

with all his strength. But the spear 

missed Turnus and lodged in the 

wooden gate behind. 

'A miss!' Cried King Turnus. 

'When you were a child somebody 

should have taught you how to throw 

a spear! But you will not escape my 

weapon.' So saying he lifted up his 

sword and, rushing forward, clove 

the helmet of Pandarus in two; the

lade carrying on and separating 

beardless cheek from cheek. A crash 

was heard as the tall Pandarus fell 

to the ground and was stretched 

out in death while his brains made a 

jellylike mound on the dust by his 

head. Seeing this the Trojans turned 

and fled in terror and, had the 

thought to open the gates and give 

entrance to his friends at once seized 

the conqueror, that day would have 

ended both a war and a nation. But 

pride, rage and a mad thirst for blood 

drove King Turnus to chase after his 

foe. First he killed two men with his 

sword and after stooping to pick up 

their spears, he hurled them both at 

the backs of the fleeing Trojans. Juno, 

Queen of Heaven, guided his casts 

and so two more Trojans fell to the 

ground in death. Pulling his sword

once more from its sheath King 

Turnus went on to kill four others. 

Recognising the urgency of the 

situation, Lynceus forgot his terror 

and turned to meet the raging king 

but King Turnus, with a sweep of his 

sword, caught him in the neck and 

swept off his head with helmet still 

attached, and sent it flying a long 

distance from where the body, 

spurting blood from its neck, 

collapsed on the ground. Next King 

Turnus killed Amycus, Clytius son of 

Aeolus and Cretheus who was a 

darling of the Muses. He had been 

their playmate as his delight was ever 

in luring beautiful music from his lyre 

and singing songs about great battles 

of the past. 

Eventually, the Trojan leaders, 

who were in another part of the

encampment, heard of the slaughter 

and as quickly as possible, went to 

see what they could do. When they 

saw their comrades flying in 

confusion and realized what had 

happened, Menestheus cried out. 

'Whither now? Whither are ye 

making for in flight? What other city 

have you to go to? What other walls 

are there for you to cower behind? 

Shall it be said that a single man, who 

is hemmed in on all sides by our 

ramparts, has, unavenged, spread such 

havoc through our ranks and sent so 

many of our bravest down in death? 

As ye think of your unhappy home, 

your ancient gods and your great 

leader, is there no shame in your 

sluggish hearts?' 

Roused by these stinging words 

the men rallied and, turning to face

King Turnus, formed up in close 

array. This forced King Turnus to halt 

his attack and begin slowly to 

withdraw. Step by reluctant step, he 

retreated towards a small unwalled 

part of the encampment which 

backed onto the river. But as the 

Trojans kept pressing him back he 

was like a lion when a company of 

hunters bears down on him with 

javelins in hand and he, still fierce 

and glaring angrily, gives ground little 

by little and, though wrath and 

courage will not let him turn his back, 

he knows it is folly to charge the 

huntsmen and their spears. In such a 

manner, while his heart boiled with 

rage, King Turnus slowly fell back 

towards the river. Twice he dashed 

into the thick of his foe and caused 

the Trojans in front of him to flee,

ut the whole army was mustered 

against him and, as Jove had sent 

celestial Iris with a message for his 

sister's ear, neither could Saturnian 

Juno give him aid. So now the 

warrior king was unable to hold his 

own against so many and the deluge 

of darts which rang out as they hit his 

helmet and also struck the fine horse 

hair crest from his head. Faster and 

faster the Trojans hurled their spears 

and King Turnus, with sweat 

trickling down his limbs in murky 

streams, knew he had to escape. At 

last, with a headlong leap, he plunged 

into the river, arms and all, and Father 

Tiber, receiving his guest, bore him 

up on buoyant waves. Then after 

washing off the stains of carnage, 

restored him in joy to his friends.

Book X 

Meanwhile, in the palace of Olympus 

the Father of Men and Gods 

summoned a council of the immortals 

and, when all had taken their seats 

in the great hall, he began the 

meeting. 'Mighty denizens of 

heaven,' he said, 'Have you forgotten 

that I forbade the Italians to meet the 

Trojans in the shock of war? What 

strife is this in defiance of my law? 

What anger has prompted you to 

provoke this fight? There shall come 

a rightful time for combat and so 

there is no need for anyone to hasten 

it. One day, in memory of Queen 

Dido, fierce Carthage shall open the 

Alpine barriers and launch on the hills

of Rome a mighty ruin. On that day 

you will be free to express your 

angers and with your help, your 

favourites can plunder and ravage to 

their hearts content. But for the 

present let it be and cheerfully ratify 

the peace I have willed.' 

But although the Father of Men 

and Gods had spoken, not so was the 

answer of golden Venus. 'Oh Father!' 

she cried. 'Oh Eternal Sovereign of 

men and nature! Have you not seen 

how the Rutulians insult the Trojans 

and how King Turnus has been borne 

through the battle on a wave of blood 

and death? Even behind the shelter 

of their walls the Trojans are no 

longer safe for now, within their 

ramparts, war has been raged and 

many a Trojan warrior has been 

sent down to Pluto's Halls. Even the

trenches are filled with the carnage 

of dead bodies which are both 

Ausonian and Trojan. But through all 

this Anaeas has been away and is 

unaware of what is happening. Will 

you never let us have a respite from 

siege? Once more the enemy is 

attacking the walls of infant Troy 

and there is a second army; led by 

the great Diomedes, son of Tydeus, 

coming to join the Ausonians. Ay, 

my agonies, I see, are yet in the 

future! But if it was without your 

leave and despite your will that the 

Trojans won their way to Latium, 

then withdraw from them your aid. 

But if they have followed those 

many oracles given to them by us and 

the powers below, how can anyone 

now be able to reverse your ordinance 

and write anew the page of Fate?

Why should I remind you of their 

fleet consumed on Eryx's shore? Why 

of the monarch of the storms and his 

raging winds stirred up from Aeolia 

or of Iris sent down from the clouds 

to put ideas into the head of King 

Turnus? Why, Queen Juno has even 

asked the Fiends from below for help 

and as a result the Fiend Alecto has 

raged through the Ausonian cities 

and caused no end of trouble. It is not 

for empire that I wish, but if there 

is no country on earth in which your 

relentless spouse will allow the 

Trojans to settle, I beg you, Father, 

by the ruins of Troy, to let me rescue 

little Ascanius from the war. Let my 

grandson survive in life. Anaeas, who 

is my son and your grandson, may 

be tossed on unknown waters and 

follow such course as you and

chance may give him, but let me 

withdraw my grandson from the 

horrors of battle. Amathus, lofty 

Paphos, high Cythera and the 

mansion of Idalia are all mine and so 

under my protection he can pass his 

days in an inglorious and unwarlike 

manner. Let it be your will that 

Carthage will one day force Italy to 

bow beneath her tyrannous sway 

because Queen Dido's descendants 

will meet no resistance from ours.' 

Venus paused here for a moment 

but then burst out afresh: 'If you do 

not let me rescue my grandson, what 

will he have gained by having fled 

through the hottest of the Achaian 

fires and drained to the dregs those 

dangers from both land and sea which 

beset the fleet while his father 

searched for Latium and a restored

Pergamos?' 

Hearing this queenly Juno, 

goaded by fierce passion, burst out: 

'Why do you force me to break my 

silence and put into words my buried 

grief? Was it any man or god who 

compelled your Anaeas to draw the 

sword and come down as a foe on the 

Latian king? Grant that he went to 

Italy at the instance of Fate. At the 

impulse, in fact, of words spoken by 

mad Kassandra who now, along with 

her captor King Agamenmon, inhabits 

the shadows of Pluto's underworld. 

All along it was your counsel that 

Anaeas should leave his camp and 

place his life at the mercy of chance 

while trusting the control of his city 

to young Ascanius and the elders. 

What god or what cruel tyranny of 

ours drove him to do this? Was there

a trace of me there, or of Iris sent 

down from the clouds? Ay, it is a 

foul shame that the Ausonians should 

throw a belt of war around the infant 

Troy and that King Turnus, whose 

grandsire was Pilumnus and whose 

mother was the goddess Venilia, 

should plant a foot on the soil of his 

fathers. But what can any of us say 

about men who invade Latium and try 

to put a yoke on a country; none of 

which is theirs? What can we say 

about men who choose at will whose 

daughters they would wed and then 

drag the plighted bride from the 

bosom of her family? What, for that 

matter, can we think of men who bear 

suppliant tokens in one hand but carry 

spears in the other and also arm their 

vessels with mighty weapons? You 

had the power to hide Paris in a

mist and rescue him from the 

victorious hands of King Menelaos. 

You even had the power to persuade 

our mother to turn a fleet of ships 

into a bevy of Nymphs, so is it 

utterly monstrous for us to give the 

Ausonians a measure of aid in return? 

Anaeas is away in ignorance and in 

ignorance let him stay. You have 

your Paphos, your Idalium and your 

lofty Cythera; so why meddle with 

the affairs of a land which overflows 

with war and ungentle hearts? Is it we 

who are responsible for the fortunes 

of your miserable Trojans? Was it us 

or that handsome prince who first 

brought the Achaians down on 

wretched Troy? What reason was 

there for Europe and Asia to stand 

and fight each other? Did I fan the 

flames of war with songs of love?

You were the one who made Helen 

fall in love with Paris because he 

chose you over both Pallas Athene 

and myself. He said you were the 

most beautiful of us all and for that 

his body now lies rotting beneath the 

ruins of Troy. So in truth, it is you 

who are responsible for all this and 

now, in your unjust complaints, you 

are flinging idly the language of 

quarrel.' 

Such was the appeal of Queen 

Juno and at this the whole body of 

immortals murmured assent. But 

when the Father of Men and Gods 

opened his mouth to speak, the whole 

palace grew still. 'Take then to your 

hearts,' he said sternly, 'and engrave 

there these words of mine since it can 

not be that Ausonian and Trojan 

should be united by treaty. Say what

you may, your wranglings will cause 

no conclusion to be reached and so, 

be each side's fortune what it may, 

you must refrain from involving 

yourselves. I myself will show no 

favour to either the Trojans or the 

Ausonians and so Destiny will decide 

whether King Turnus overruns the 

Trojan camp or the Trojans hold out 

until Anaeas returns with his 

reinforcements. Each side's own 

endeavours shall yield them their 

fortune because I, as Lord of all, will 

be alike to all.' 

He then nodded his head in 

confirmation of his intent and as he 

did so, the deepest parts of Mount 

Olympus rumbled in assent. So ended 

the debate and after Jove had risen 

from his throne, the other immortals 

gathered round him and followed him

to the dining chamber where a great 

feast along with plenty of the finest 

wines had been laid out for the 

immortals who had, by now, become 

bored with the affairs of mortal men 

and desired something else to occupy 

their attention. 

But as the gods took their places 

at the table and called for the Muses 

to sing their most beautiful songs, the 

Ausonians, in their eagerness to 

slaughter the Trojans, pressed round 

the walls of the encampment. Inside, 

the heavily outnumbered Trojans, 

without hope of escape, stood their 

ground and spread themselves out in 

a thin circle along the ramparts. Some 

brought up mighty rocks and hurled 

them at their attackers while others 

repelled them with javelins, 

firebrands and arrows. In the midst of

all this was the grandson of goldenhaired 

Venus with his head 

uncovered and who, in the beauty of 

his youth and with his golden hair 

flowing down over his milky white 

neck, shone out like a jewel as he 

worked alongside the other youths 

and assisted the defenders by 

transporting spears and other 

weapons from the armoury to where 

they were needed on the ramparts. 

In this way the slaughter 

continued until blessed darkness 

began to rob the warriors of their 

sight and so brought the fighting to a 

close. 

However, as the warriors on 

both sides turned their backs on the 

battle and went in search of a much 

needed rest and a meal, Anaeas was 

ploughing the main. As soon as he

and his men had reached the spot on 

the coast where the Etruscans were 

encamped, he had asked to be taken 

before the King Tarchon and, after 

the necessary formalities had been 

observed, he told the king of his name, 

his race, of the help he desired and 

what he was willing to offer in return. 

He also spoke about the nature of 

Rutulian army and the reputation of 

King Turnus for unbridled violence. 

He felt obliged to warn the king of 

all the dangers he might face but 

despite this, Tarchon didn't hesitate to 

hand the command of his army over 

to Anaeas and so, freed from the spell 

of destiny, the Etruscans embarked on 

their ships under the charge of a 

foreign leader. First to leave the inlet 

were the vessels which had been 

given to Anaeas and the Arcadians

and which had fierce lions painted on 

their prows. But as the fleet made its 

way down towards the Tiber's mouth, 

Anaeas sat in the stern and brooded 

over the war's doubtful future while 

Pallas, who had refused to leave his 

side, kept plying him with questions 

about all that he had suffered since 

first going to Troy. 

Behind came the ships of 

Massicus which contained a 

thousand warriors who had left the 

cities of Clusium and Cosae. Then 

came mighty Abas with his band of 

nine hundred men in gleaming 

armour. Populonia had sent him six 

hundred of her sons, all versed in the 

art of war while Ilva, an island rich in 

mines, had sent three hundred 

warriors. Behind him came Asilas, 

the great interpreter between gods

and men and at whose bidding the 

victim's entrails, the stars of the sky, 

the tongues of prophetic birds and the 

flashes of lightning all revealed their 

message. With him were a thousand 

men who had been given to him by 

the town of Pisa which had taken root 

some time in the distant past after 

Alpheus had arrived on Etruscan soil. 

After him was Astur, the fairest of 

them all, with three hundred under his 

command. 

Not to be forgotten were those 

who came behind. The bravest of the 

Ligurians was Cinyras who only had 

a scanty retinue but whose helmet 

was surmounted by the brilliant 

plumage of a swan. His son, with his 

band of martial peers, sailed close by 

his side so the oarsmen on both ships 

were able to row to the sound of a

single muffled drum. 

Great Ocnus led the army from 

Mantua but not all of his men were 

of the same blood as his strength of 

five hundred was made up from three 

races. In all there were thirty ships 

which made their way to the infant 

Troy; each one filled to overflowing 

with war-hungry warriors who 

desired glory above all else. 

But as night fell and all but the 

oarsmen and those in command of 

the helm lay down to sleep, Anaeas 

was so troubled by thoughts of the 

coming battle that he refused to let 

slumber embrace his frame. To keep 

himself awake he took command of 

the rudder and sat pondering all the 

dangers of the future. But as the 

hours passed and left the midnight 

behind, he was met by the nymphs

whom gracious Cybele had changed 

from ships to goddesses. They had 

recognised the king from afar and 

came dancing round him in a joyous 

state; a nymph for each of his 

brazen prows. Cymodoce, their most 

skilled in speech, swam up behind 

Anaeas and laid her right hand on the 

stern of his ship. Then lifting her 

torso high above the water and 

exposing her beautiful breasts which 

were tipped with small erect nipples, 

she broke in on his thoughts. 'Wake 

goddess-born.' she cried. 'Be wakeful 

for a moment and let the sail ropes 

go. We it is you see, the pines from 

sacred Ida who were once your fleet 

but are now sea nymphs. When the 

Ausonians set us aflame, at the 

command of the Great Mother we 

reluctantly burst your bonds and sank

to the bottom of the river. After she 

enabled us to rise from the depths 

which quenched our fires, she ordered 

the zephyrs to carry us to her cave 

and there she granted us the state of 

goddesses and also gave us new 

forms and lives to lead beneath the 

waves. But we have come to tell you 

that young Ascanius and all your 

people are hemmed in by the 

Ausonians who took advantage of 

your absence and started the battle. 

Already an Arcadian host mixed 

with brave Etruscans has gained the 

battle scarred plain but King Turnus, 

amid much slaughter, has barred 

their way and is preventing them 

from giving succour to your people. 

So we have come to tell you that with 

the earliest approach of dawn you 

must take up the Fire God's shield

and prepare your allies. Do this and 

the morrow's sun, if you will but give 

credence to my words, shall survey 

mighty heaps of Ausonian carnage.' 

Her speech done she gave with 

her hand an impulse to the lofty 

stern, well knowing the measure of 

force needed to speed the ship on its 

way like an arrow. Ech of the other 

nymphs also gave a helping push to 

the other ships so the whole fleet 

could stay together. 

The unexpected change of speed 

caused Anaeas to start and for a 

moment he began to fear had fallen 

asleep at his post and dreamed a vivid 

dream. But when he noted the 

impossibly high speed of all the ships 

in the fleet, he was cheered in his soul 

and laughed out loud. Looking up to 

the sky above he prayed: 'Gracious

mother of the gods, Lady of Ida, 

whose joy is in Dindymus, be thou 

the controller of the fight and walk 

beside the Trojans with favoured 

step.' 

As he finished the first glimmers 

of dawn appeared on his left and 

began the daily task of pushing night 

into the west. 

As soon as there was enough light 

Anaeas roused his sleeping warriors 

and after allowing them time to 

refresh themselves with something to 

eat, he used stirring words to nerve 

their souls for combat while on the 

other ships, each commander did the 

same. At last, as the sun began to rise 

high into the heavens, the river Tiber 

and the Trojan camp, surrounded by 

attacking Ausonians, hove into view 

and at that moment Anaeas raised up

the Fire God's shield on his left arm. 

Up went a shout on the ramparts as 

the defenders saw the ships and the 

gleam of the shield and, as hope 

quickened anger into fury, they 

hurled a shower of javelins at the 

enemy. The Rutulian king and his 

Ausonian chieftains watched the 

ships approach the shore with 

doubtful hearts and, whereas they 

had started the morning believing they 

would easily win the day, they now 

began to wonder at the outcome of the 

battle. 

However, after reviewing the 

situation bold King Turnus regained 

his confidence and decided to send 

only half of his army to beat off the 

newcomers. 

'See, ' he cried pointing at the 

approaching ships, 'here is the

opportunity you have longed for as 

this enemy can't hide behind walls and 

must therefore fight in the open. A 

brave man's hand is the War God's 

greatest love so let each man 

remember his wife and home and 

recall the mighty deeds which made 

his father great. Valour has fortune 

for its friend and as the foot always 

falters in its first step, let us meet the 

invaders while they are still trying to 

gain the shore.' 

So saying he debated in his mind 

the problem of whom he should send 

to lead the attack and who should be 

entrusted with the continued assault 

on the walls. 

In the end King Turnus decided 

to lead the attack on the ships 

himself but as he and his Rutulians 

were making for the landing beach,

Anaeas was busy off-loading his 

comrades with the help of 

gangplanks. However, many of his 

men were so eager to join the fray 

that they leapt into the shallows with 

their heavy armour and weapons and 

waded ashore. Tarchon, coming up 

behind with his ships spied out a 

place on the beach where the waters 

were calm and turning his prows in 

that direction, exhorted his oarsmen. 

'Now ply your oars with a will,' he 

cried, 'and lift our vessels on that 

yonder beach. Cleave with our beaks 

this land which hates us and let every 

keel plough a furrow in the sand.' 

Hearing this his crews heaved on 

their oars and the ships bore down 

on the beach until their keels had 

scraped the golden sand. But not so 

the ship of Tarchon which struck a

hidden rock and, listing sharply to the 

left, tumbled all the men into the 

water and entangled them with broken 

oars and floating benches. 

As the Trojans and Etruscans 

landed on the shore, King Turnus set 

to work with fiery speed and swept his 

army against them. But Anaeas and 

his warriors, all of whom were 

experienced in war, quickly formed 

up into ranks and sent King Turnus' 

rustics retreating in disarray. 

Anaeas began the fight by slaying 

Theron who rushed at him with a 

levelled spear. As his attacker 

approached Anaeas watched carefully 

and after skilfully deflecting the 

deadly point, sank his own into an 

unprotected part of Theron's side and 

sent him down in death. Next he 

killed Lycus who had been cut from

the womb of his dead mother and 

consecrated to Apollo and immediately 

afterwards he attacked and slew 

two more Rutulians who were busy 

laying the Etruscans low with their 

heavy clubs. Launching a javelin at 

Pharus who was attacking with words 

rather than deeds, he struck the 

bawler in the mouth and knocked him 

to the ground. However, the 

Rutulians, after falling back a little, 

re-grouped and launched a volley of 

javelins; some of which rebounded 

from shields while others laid a 

number of the invaders down in 

death. At this Anaeas turned to 

Achates and cried. 'Bring me my 

store of weapons and not one shall 

leave my hand in vain for all have 

tasted Achaian blood on the plains of 

Ilios.'

With that he seized his mighty 

spear and sent it flying towards the 

Rutulians. The heavy shaft sought out 

a man called Maeon and after 

crashing through the several hides of 

his shield it tore through his 

breastplate and lodged in his chest. 

Maeon's brother, Alcanor, quickly 

tried to prop the falling man and stop 

him from collapsing to the ground, but 

death refused to be thwarted of its 

prize and so the spirit of the still 

upright man, stunned by the rapidity 

with which it had been overtaken by 

the darkness of death, rose up into 

the insubstantial air and proceeded 

unwillingly on its way to Pluto's 

Halls. Alcanor, angrily tore the spear 

from his brother's body and launched 

it at Anaeas; but although it was a 

fine cast, it missed its target though it

did graze the thigh of mighty Achates. 

Clausus of Cures, a friend of 

King Turnus, in the pride and 

strength of his youth, struck Dryops 

in the throat with a javelin and 

robbed him of life. He then killed 

three experienced warriors who had 

travelled to Troy from Thrace and 

had even fought alongside Prince 

Hector when he had struggled to 

capture the body of Patroklos from the 

Achaians. At these successes many 

Rutulians ran to his side and, along 

with Messapus, joined in the struggle 

with the invaders and so the two sides 

stood toe to toe and battled it out man 

to man. 

But as the Etruscans and 

Arcadians slowly forced their way 

onto the shore and the torrent of the 

battle spilled out onto the plain,

Pallas saw his Arcadians flying before 

the Rutulians and tried to inflame 

their valour with prayers and bitter 

speeches. 'Whither are you flying?' 

He yelled. 'By your glorious history, 

by King Evander's name and the 

victories you have won at his 

bidding, I beg you not to trust in 

flight. Where yonder host of men is 

thickest is the path to which our noble 

country is calling you and I, Pallas, 

am here to back your arms. No 

deities sit heavy on us and we are 

pressed only by a mortal foe. Men 

who are mortals like us and who 

have no more hands or lives than we 

do. Look! We are hemmed in by the 

sea and cannot flee so new found 

Troy must be our goal.' 

This said he ran into the midst of 

the Rutulian foe. The first man he met

was a rustic called Lagus who had 

been brought to the spot by an unkind 

fate. He was bending down to pick 

up a stone of enormous weight to 

throw at the invaders when Pallas 

rushed up and drove his spear down 

through the unprotected back. 

Withdrawing his bloodied spear from 

the dead man's back Pallas turned 

and slew another Rutulian who was 

trying to creep up and surprise him 

from behind. His next blow landed 

on Sthenelus and then he killed a man 

called Anchemolus of Rhoetus' 

ancient line and who, as a youth, 

had dared to pollute his 

stepmother's couch. After this, in 

his martial frenzy, Pallas killed two 

youths who, confused by the turmoil 

of battle, had been standing with an 

empty look in their eyes and their

shields hanging by their side. Both 

had become disorientated by the 

turmoil of the battle and were trying 

to think their way through their 

confusion when the spear of Pallas 

robbed them of their lives and their 

parents of their beloved children. 

Seeing this the sons of Arcadia, 

stung by their chief's rebuke and 

amazed by the number of Rutulians 

their leader had killed so quickly, 

were emboldened by shame mingled 

with rage and rushed on their foe. 

The Rutulians immediately began to 

turn and flee but as Rhoetus came up 

in his car to try and stop the retreat, 

Pallas caught him in the chest with 

a Rutulian javelin he had picked from 

the ground. At this a fiery Rutulian 

warrior called Halesus, gathered his 

men and moved against the invaders.

He began by slaying three men and 

then, with a swipe of his sword he cut 

off the right arm of Thoas at the 

shoulder and left the wounded man 

to watch helplessly as the life blood 

spurted from the stump of what had 

once been his muscular arm and the 

gathering darkness engulfed his 

brain. After this he killed Etruscan 

Lasus who had been hidden in the 

woods by his prophetic sire but, when 

the old man had closed his 

whitening eyes in death, the 

insensitive Fates claimed their victim 

and after putting him on a ship which 

sailed with Anaeas, delivered him to 

Halesus. But when Pallas saw the 

carnage being wrought by Halesus 

he looked over to the brimming 

river and prayed. 'Grant, Father Tiber, 

to this spear poised in my hand, a

prosperous passage through Halesus' 

hardy breast' 

He then launched his spear and 

Father Tiber guided it through a 

weak spot in the hides on Halesus' 

shield and into the warrior's stomach. 

But Lausus, whose men had kept 

many of the invaders hemmed in by 

the sea, would not allow his troops to 

be dismayed by the hero's dreadful 

carnage. First he slew Abas who had 

had the courage to meet him face to 

face and he followed this by sending 

many Arcadians and Etruscans down 

in death. He also sent down to Pluto's 

Halls some of the Trojans whom the 

Achaians had tried but failed to kill. 

But as the armies clashed and the 

battle raged with victory and defeat 

on both sides, Pallas made his way 

to where Lausus and his men were

happily killing the invading 

warriors. Both were of the same age 

and equally fair in form, but keen 

though they were to meet in combat, 

destiny had decided each man's fate 

long before the battle started. 

Consequently, as the two youths 

faced each other, King Turnus forced 

his chariot through the ranks and as 

soon as he came up to Lausus he said. 

'You may rest from battle now as I 

alone am coming against Pallas. The 

son of King Evander is mine and 

mine alone and I only wish his sire 

was here to see us fight.' 

At this Lausus fell back among 

the massed ranks of his men and 

King Turnus, after jumping down 

from his chariot, stepped out into 

the intervening space. However, as 

the Rutulians withdrew, the young

Pallas, surprised by this change in the 

situation, gazed with astonishment on 

the giant King Turnus and rolled his 

eyes over the muscular, well formed 

frame. But instead of retreating he 

called out with fiery words which 

befitted the son of a monarch. 'I shall 

soon be famous either for the kingly 

trophies I strip from your carcass 

or an illustrious death. But my sire 

is equal to either event.' 

This said, while the blood of 

the watching Arcadians chilled and 

curdled in their hearts, he stepped 

forward into the middle space. 

As soon as he judged his foe to 

be within range of his spear Pallas 

began the fight and hoped that Fortune 

would help him in such an unequal 

contest. As he poised his spear in his 

hand he looked up to the sky and

cried. 'Alkides, you saved the 

Arcadians from the Cacus and now 

I pray you stand by me in this, my 

greatest endeavour. Let the dying 

eyes of King Turnus watch me strip 

the bloodied arms from his helpless 

body.' 

But although Alkides heard the 

youth's cry, he stifled a heavy groan 

in his breast and wiped away the 

tear which rolled down his cheek. 

Then the almighty Father spoke to 

him in kindly words. 'Short and 

irretrievable is the span of all men's 

lives and each has his appointed day. 

But to live forever through great 

deeds; that is what personal worth 

can do. Think of those many sons of 

gods who fell beneath Troy's lofty 

walls; among whom died even 

Sarpedon, my own son. Sad though

you may be, be comforted by the fact 

that King Turnus has also reached his 

allotted span and the call of destiny 

is waiting for him on the battlefield.' 

So saying he looked away from 

the plain and, turning his attention 

back to the problems of other races 

and tribes, forgot about the battle. 

On the plain below Pallas, with 

a mighty effort, hurled his spear. On 

flew the weapon and, striking the 

edge of King Turnus' shield, forced 

its way through the hides and grazed 

the neck of the mighty warrior. 

King Turnus was startled by the 

unexpected closeness of death and 

involuntarily swore that in the future 

he would take more care when 

battling youths, even if, when 

compared to his size and build, 

they did look puny and insignificant.

Recovering his composure, he 

balanced his spear in his hand and 

drawing back his arm, hurled it at 

Pallas with these words. 'See whether 

my aim is not surer.' 

But whereas King Turnus had 

arrogantly scorned the spear of 

Pallas, Pallas tried to keep his eye 

on the approaching missile. Alas, he 

lost sight of it in the sun and, not 

knowing which way to dodge, he 

lifted up his shield and hoped that 

Turnus had made a bad cast. But as 

the heavy spear descended from the 

glare of the sun, it crashed into Pallas' 

shield with tremendous force and 

after forcing its way through the 

three stout hides, it forced its way 

though the cuirass and sank into the 

youth's breast behind. Although 

made almost insensible by the

linding pain which suddenly 

engulfed him, Pallas grasped the 

spear and tried to pull it from his 

chest but, as he tugged at it, the 

strength vanished from his knees 

and he collapsed onto the ground. 

Walking up and standing over his 

victim King Turnus glorified in his 

victory over a man who, in truth, was 

still little more than a boy. 'Men of 

Arcady,' he cried, 'take heed and 

carry my words to your king. I send 

back his son as he deserves and if 

there be any honour in a tomb or any 

solace in a burial, let him take it 

freely for soon Anaeas and the rest 

of his Trojans will be joining this 

youth in death.' 

Putting his left foot on the body 

he pulled his spear from the lifeless 

form and, after tucking the gaily

coloured scarf into his belt, he 

began stripping the dead Pallas of 

his jewelled belt and armour. But 

blind are the eyes of men to destiny 

and the doom to be and so they fail 

to know their limits for, despite his 

arrogance, King Turnus would soon 

see the day when he would have paid 

a high price for Pallas alive and 

unharmed and would hate the spoils 

he had won in that uneven contest. 

But for the moment, the Arcadians, 

with many a groan and tear, left King 

Turnus to his glory and when he had 

finished, they picked up the naked 

body of their chief, placed it on a 

makeshift bier and carried it 

mournfully away from the battle. 

When Anaeas heard about the 

death of Pallas he realized that his 

army was but a hands breadth from

defeat and that he had to succour his 

distraught men. Consequently, with 

sword and spear in hand he rushed 

the Rutulians and savagely cut down 

all who stood in his way. He was 

seeking King Turnus so he could 

avenge the death of Pallas but he also 

knew that only way to rally his 

disheartened army was to litter the 

ground with Rutulian dead. 

Nevertheless, one of his first acts was 

to capture eight youths so he might 

offer them as victims to the dead 

Pallas and sprinkle his funeral flames 

with their blood. As soon as he had 

sent the bound captives to the rear 

he returned to the fight and launched 

his spear at a Rutulian called Magus. 

But Magus deftly dodged beneath the 

flying missile and running forward, 

clasped his attacker by the knees and,

while looking humbly down at the 

ground, uttered words of suppliance. 

'On your dead father's soul,' he cried, 

'and the dawning promise of your son, 

I pray you to spare my poor life for 

both my own son and father. I have 

a lofty palace and deep in its vaults lie 

talents of chased silver and masses 

of gold; both wrought and unwrought. 

How much of a difference can a 

single life make? Spare me I will give 

you all that I possess.' 

'You wealth,' Anaeas replied 

heartlessly, 'now belongs to your son 

because your own king put an end to 

chivalry when he slew young Pallas 

in an unequal contest. As for the 

ghost of my father and my son, they 

speak their thoughts through me.' 

So saying he drove his spear 

into the back of the man who knelt

efore him and without stopping to 

strip the corpse, went in search of 

more Rutulians to kill. His next 

victim was a priest of both Phoebus 

and Trivia whose head was covered 

with the sacred band and whose 

armour was bedecked with golden 

talismans for luck. It was easy for 

Anaeas to kill this man who seemed 

to depend more on his lucky 

talismans than his own martial 

fervour and, after stripping the corpse 

of its valuables, he gave them to 

Serestus to carry out of the battle. 

Emboldened by the successes of 

Anaeas Caeculus, who was of 

Vulcan's line, rallied his men and 

rushing into the melee himself, put 

forth all his violence against the 

Rutulians. He began by using his 

sword to cut off the right hand of a

man before sinking its point into his 

stomach. This foe had uttered many 

a haughty boast and, holding out his 

right hand, had proclaimed it was the 

hand which would turn his words 

into reality. But before he had had a 

chance to make good on his boasts, 

Caeculus first robbed him of his hand 

and then of his life. After 

withdrawing his bloodied blade from 

the dead man's stomach Caeculus 

brutally hacked off his head and held 

it up for all to see. 'Well, doughty 

follower of King Turnus,' he cried. 

'What was that you were saying?' 

At this his men burst into 

laughter and Caeculus, still looking up 

at the severed head from which 

copious amounts of blood continued 

to flow, continued. 'Never shall your 

tender mother give you burial or pile

your father's tomb above your limbs. 

No, I will leave you here to feed the 

wild dogs and carrion birds of 

Ausonia or else I might decide to 

throw your body into the river so the 

hungry fish can nibble your wounds.' 

Then hurling the head high into 

the air so it could be seen by as many 

Rutulians as possible, he went in 

search of Antaeus and Lucas; two of 

King Turnus' best men and also the 

gallant Numa and Camers, the sons 

of noble Volscens who had reigned 

over voiceless Amyclae and had been 

the wealthiest man in the land of 

Ausonia. But as Caeculus killed 

Rutulians in one part of the field 

Anaeas killed them in another and at 

that moment he was advancing 

against a Rutulian driving a four 

horsed chariot. But as soon as they

saw his lofty stride and fierce 

gestures the horses started to back 

away from Anaeas and this upset the 

light car and tumbled its master onto 

ground whereupon Anaeas ran up 

and drove his spear into the fallen 

man's stomach. Just at that moment 

two brothers drove their chariot into 

the Etruscan and Arcadian midst and 

whilst one guided the steeds, the other 

laid about him with his great sword. 

But Anaeas, undaunted by the fury 

of this assault coldly watched the 

chariot approach and when the man 

wielding the sword saw him he 

shouted. 'These are not the steeds 

Diomedes stole from you and nor is 

this Achilles' chariot. Nor, for that 

matter, are we on the plains of Ilios 

and so your life must now end here 

on Ausonian ground.'

Such were his words as he waved 

his sword and made ready to remove 

Anaeas' head from his shoulders. But 

the chief of the Trojans chose to 

answer him with immediate violence 

rather than words and so hurling 

his spear, he caught his attacker in 

the groin and tumbled him onto the 

ground. Then Anaeas spoke to the 

dying man with words of gall. 'So, all 

those brave words and now you lie 

dying on the ground? These horses 

are certainly not as fine as the ones 

Diomedes stole from me, but for the 

time being I'll be happy to make use 

of them.' 

With these words he laid hold 

of the bridles while the wretched 

brother timidly climbed down from 

the car and threw himself on the 

ground in front of Anaeas. 'Brave

hero of Troy,' he cried, 'by the 

parents who gave you such greatness 

at birth, let my prayers find a place 

in your heart and spare this poor life.' 

But Anaeas cut short his 

entreaties. 'Not such were the words 

of your brother a moment ago, so die 

and forsake not your brother as a 

brother should.' 

So saying he drove his bloodthirsting 

spear into his suppliant's 

back. 

Such was the carnage that 

Caeculus and Anaeas dealt out to the 

Rutulians as they stormed through 

their ranks like a violent tempest that 

the Rutulians began to retreat before 

them and the beleaguered prisoners 

were at last able burst out of their 

encampment and join in the fray. 

But on Mount Olympus, as the

attle began to turn against the 

Ausonians, Jove went to his wife and 

addressed her thus. 'Sister and 

sweetest wife in one, your judgment 

is never at fault. It is Venus and 

the armour of Vulcan which upholds 

the power of the Trojans rather than 

their keen right hands and their 

courageous souls which brave every 

peril.' 

'Why my fairest lord,' replied 

Juno meekly, 'must you torment a 

spirit which quails before your every 

word? Had but our love the force it 

once had, there is one thing you would 

not deny me. Almighty as you are, 

you have the power to withdraw 

young King Turnus from the fight and 

preserve him in safety for Daunus his 

father. But it seems you intend to let 

him perish and glut the Trojan desire

for vengeance with his innocent 

blood. Yet, like Anaeas, he draws his 

name from our lineage and Pilumnus, 

his grandsire's grandsire, never failed 

to load your temple with the finest 

offerings.' 

'If it is your wish,' replied the 

Father of Gods and Men, 'that the 

doomed youth is given a respite from 

his present destiny, then I give you 

permission to snatch him from the 

death which searches for him on the 

battlefield. Thus far is there room 

for compliance but if any deeper 

intent is hidden under these prayers 

of yours and you feel that by saving 

King Turnus you can alter the course 

of the war, you are nursing an empty 

hope.' 

With a bewildered look in her 

eyes, Juno answered. 'What if your

heart were to grant what your tongue 

denies and you secretly plan to let 

King Turnus live a long life? As it is, 

either a heavy doom hangs over his 

guiltless head or you, for reasons of 

your own, are deluding me. But how 

can you, you who can change the 

course of destiny with a mere nod of 

your head, make me the sport of your 

lying terrors?' 

But without waiting for a reply 

Juno set off from Mount Olympus 

and raced down to the Ausonian plain. 

There, as goddesses may, she took 

on the form and likeness of 

Anaeas and counterfeited the armour 

and shield of Vulcan and also the 

helmet with its fine crest. Then 

moving to a place where King Turnus 

could see her she goaded him by 

brandishing her weapons and, in a

voice like that of Anaeas, yelled 

insults at him. In his anger at the 

insults Turnus hurled his spear and 

when he thought he saw Anaeas 

flying in retreat, he snatched from 

his soul an empty hope. 'Whither so 

fast?' he cried. 'There's no need for 

you to leave your bridal land as this 

hand of mine shall make you a part of 

the Italian soil you have sought for 

so long.' 

Waving his sword and with loud 

shouts he chased after the phantom. 

It chanced that just then, moored to 

the edge of the river was a ship with 

its gangplank let down. It was the one 

which had brought King Osinius from 

the borders of Clusium and it was to 

here that the semblance of Anaeas 

flew for shelter. King Turnus, 

bounding over all obstacles,

followed as rapidly he could but as 

soon as his feet touched the deck 

of the ship, Saturn's daughter broke 

the moorings and swept the craft out 

into the middle of the river where it 

was caught by the receding tide. 

Anaeas, meanwhile, was still on the 

plain claiming combat with his absent 

foe and sending down in death many 

an Ausonian who crossed his path. 

But on the ship, his airy phantom 

sought shelter no longer and while 

King Turnus searched under the 

benches and piles of sail and rigging 

for Anaeas, it soared up into the sky 

and blended with the murky clouds 

above. But King Turnus, after 

searching everywhere for Anaeas, 

finally realized that he had been 

tricked and also that the ship was in 

the middle of the river and for this he

was unthankful. Gazing longingly 

back at the plains he raised his hands 

and addressed his voice to the sky. 

'Almighty sire!' He cried. 'Hast thou 

judged me worthy of such an 

infliction and sentenced me to this 

depth of suffering? Whither am I 

bound? What is this curse which is 

bearing me out to sea and what kind 

of coward does it make of me? Shall 

I look again on Laurentum's camp 

and city? What of the warriors who 

followed me and my standard? 

Have I left them all to their deaths? 

Is that them I now see scattered in 

rout while their dying shrieks are 

wafted over to me on the warm wind 

from the plain? What can I do? What 

lowest depth of the earth will accept 

me now? Nay, do your winds not 

have the compassion to dash me and

this vessel on a rock or lodge it on 

a sandbank from where I can return to 

the battle with no one knowing of my 

shame?' 

As he shouted his mind swayed 

from side to side as he tried to decide 

on whether to impale himself on his 

sword or fling himself, with all his 

armour, into the water and try to 

swim for the shore so he could place 

himself once more amongst the 

Trojan spears. Thrice he tried to 

jump into the water but thrice mighty 

Juno, out of great pity, held him back 

while at her command, the Zephyrs 

bore the ship safely to the ancient 

town of Daunus and his sire. 

Meanwhile, prompted by Mars, 

the Cruel Mezentius took up the war 

and charged the triumphant Trojans 

with his men. But in their hate for

the brutal king the whole Etruscan, 

Arcadian and Trojan host flocked 

to the spot and bending all their fury, 

fought back as one man. But even as 

a rock which juts out of the mighty 

deep remains unshaken when it is 

attacked by the roaring winds and 

raging sea, Mezentius stood unmoved 

against the forces arranged against 

him and killed three men. One he hit 

in the face with a great rock which 

today would take at least two men to 

lift and the two others he pierced 

with his bronze-headed spear. Then, 

after stripping all three of their arms 

he gave them to his son Lausus so 

that captured Trojan crests could 

adorn both his and his son's head. 

After this he killed a Trojan called 

Euanthes and also one called Mimas 

who had been a playmate of Prince

Paris. Mimas had been born by 

Theano to Amycus on the same day 

that Paris had entered the world but 

whereas Paris now slept beneath the 

ruins of Troy, Mimas found his rest 

on Italy's unknown shore. After this, 

despite their warlike cries, none of the 

Trojans, Etruscans or Arcadians had 

the courage to come near Mezentius 

and so chose to attack him from afar 

with slings, arrows and javelins 

while he, undaunted by their 

missiles, moved among his men 

and encouraged them to fight. 

However, when Mezentius saw Acron 

from Corythus who had left his bride 

to come to the war in the pride of his 

crimson plumage and the purple of his 

bride's family and also with his 

nuptials still uncelebrated, he joyfully 

raced in among his foe and brought

the ill-starred Acron to the ground. 

Nor did he hesitate to turn and strike 

down another who had been standing 

next to him. He met this man who was 

as gigantic as he face to face, as a 

warrior should, and prevailed not by 

strength but by skill. Then, with his 

foot on the fallen body he put his 

hand on the lance which protruded 

from his foe's stomach and turning to 

his men he cried. 'See, gallants! My 

spear has feasted on a hero of the 

enemy.' 

His Ausonian comrades 

immediately raised a great cheer but 

the dying man retorted. 'Whoever 

you are, your victorious boasting 

shall not go unavenged because before 

long your lifeless corpse shall also lie 

on this ground.' 

'Be silent and die.' Answered

Mezentius. 'Only the Father of Gods 

and Men will decide on where my life 

is to end.' 

So saying he pulled his javelin 

from the body and allowed Death 

to curtain the eyes of his victim 

in everlasting night. 

As the battle continued to rage 

the War God's heavy hand began 

dealing out death to both sides in 

equal measure. Warriors on both 

sides were killing and being killed. 

But it wasn't long before the gods on 

Olympus turned their attention once 

more to the battlefield and looked 

with pity on the carnage and the fact 

that men were killing men for the 

ownership of Italy. That men doomed 

to die should suffer so terribly 

before descending into the nether 

world was something which struck

even the gods as an unfairness of 

human life. Venus was sitting next 

to Saturnian Juno and together they 

watched as the thousands below 

struggled with each other for 

dominance. But as the gods watched, 

news of Mezentius and the 

destruction he was dealing out was 

carried to Anaeas and so Anaeas 

rushed to face him. 

When Mezentius heard that 

Anaeas had determined to challenge 

him and was making his way through 

the throng, he laughed out loud and 

standing like a great oak which towers 

above all the trees which surround 

it, he waited patiently for his foe to 

arrive. 'Now,' he cried as soon as 

Anaeas came within range of his 

spear, 'let my right hand and the gods 

I worship guide this spear into the

chest of the invader and I vow that 

Lausus my son shall wear the 

beautiful armour of Anaeas.' 

So saying he hurled his spear 

but, after flying through the air, it 

glanced off the top of Anaeas' shield 

and struck the noble Antores in the 

chest. The ill-fated Antores, killed 

by a weapon meant for another, 

gazed up in surprise at the sky and, 

as his eyes slowly began to glaze 

over, his knees slowly buckled 

beneath him. Angered by the death of 

a friend Anaeas retaliated by hurling 

his spear with all the force he could 

muster and, after flying through the 

air, his heavy shaft struck the shield 

of Mezentius and forced its way 

through the strong hides, the stout 

corselet which protected the lower 

part of his body and lodged deep in

his thigh. Seeing blood flow down 

his enemy's leg Anaeas gave a 

triumphant shout and drawing his 

sword from its scabbard, rushed up 

to finish the task his spear had begun. 

But as soon as Lausus saw what 

had happened he gave a loud shout 

and moved in to protect his father 

and so, as Anaeas brought his 

sword down on the head of Mezentius 

with all his force, Lausus met the 

shock of the blade with his own and 

then pushed the surprised Anaeas 

away from his fallen father. As soon 

as he had recovered from his surprise 

Anaeas turned to face Lausus but as 

he did so, Mezentius, dragging his 

injured leg behind him, staggered 

hurriedly from the field. As Lausus 

continued to shelter his father's 

retreat with his body, Anaeas' anger

ose in his breast. But because of 

the volleys of spears the 

surrounding Rutulians kept hurling at 

him, he could do nothing except 

hide behind his shield. Even as 

when a sudden burst of hail sweeps 

down from a storm cloud and every 

man in the open seeks some shelter to 

hide behind until the returning sun 

allows him to continue on his way, so 

Anaeas hid behind his shield and 

waited until the Rutulian artillery was 

spent. Then in his anger at having 

been deprived of his victory he 

chided Lausus. 'Whither are you 

rushing,' he said coldly, 'with aims 

beyond your strength young man? It 

seems your duteous heart has blinded 

your mind and your valour has 

become reckless.' 

Yet despite this and the fact that

his father was now safely out of 

Anaeas' reach, instead of retreating 

back into the massed ranks of the 

Rutulians behind him, Lausus stood 

firm and at this arrogance Anaeas' 

fury knew no bounds. Holding 

Vulcan's great shield in front of him 

he smashed it into the shield of the 

younger and smaller man with just 

enough force to send him staggering 

backwards. But as Lausus staggered 

backwards he unthinkingly opened 

out his arms to try maintain his 

balance and at this Anaeas ran 

forward and sank his blade into the 

boy's unprotected stomach. 

However, when the son of Anchises 

saw the look and countenance of the 

dying youth who vainly clutched at 

his shoulder before sinking slowly to 

the ground, he groaned heavily and

pity tore at his heart. 'What now 

hapless boy?' He said looking down 

on the lifeless body. 'What should I 

give a young man with a heart like 

yours?' Then after pausing for a 

moment he continued: 'Let the arms 

which your father took from a 

Trojan and in which you took pride 

be yours forever and I will also allow 

you to be given a warrior's funeral; if 

that be aught to you now? This at 

least, and the fact you were laid low 

by a king's hand shall perhaps, in 

some small way, make up for the 

sadness of your death.' 

Then without more ado he turned 

to the dead man's comrades and 

chided them for their slackness. But 

before they had a chance to respond 

he bent down and, lifting their young 

chief from the earth, gently laid him

out in the dignity of death. 

Meanwhile Mezentius was at the 

river's edge having his wound 

washed with water and, in an effort 

to give ease to his tortured frame, 

he was leaning against a tree with his 

captured Trojan helmet hanging from 

a bough above his head and his heavy 

armour on the ground by his feet. 

Round him stood his bravest 

warriors and he, sick and panting, 

was rubbing his neck in an effort to 

relieve the pain whilst his flowing 

beard, streaked with grime and 

sweat, hung down over his bosom. 

Anxious about his son he sent a 

messenger to call him from the 

battlefield and bring him to his side 

but just as the messenger was 

getting ready to depart, Mezentius 

saw the bier on which Lausus lay

eing brought to him by his weeping 

comrades. The wailing told its tale to 

that ill-boding heart and as soon as 

he knew for certain that his son was 

dead, Mezentius reached down to the 

ground and, picking up handfuls of 

dirt, he began rubbing it into his face 

and head. When the bier was finally 

placed on the ground before him he 

clung to the lifeless body of his son. 

'My son!' He cried. 'My son! How 

was it that I was so obsessed with my 

love for life that I allowed you, my 

own offspring, to face the Trojan king 

in my stead?' Then looking at his 

son's bloodied abdomen he cried. 'Is 

this the wound which preserved your 

father? Do I live through your death? 

Alas! Now at last I know the true 

misery of loss and what it means to 

have a shaft of pain driven into one's

heart. Ay, it was I, my son, who 

stained your name with guilt. Driven 

by hate I stole the throne and realm 

of my father and then abused the 

people I should have nurtured. But 

would now that I had quelled my love 

of violence and war and let the 

Trojans settle peacefully in our land. 

Now I live on and cannot as yet leave 

the light of this world. But leave it 

I will!' 

So saying he raised himself on 

his injured leg and though the sudden 

blinding pain from his wound caused 

his strength flag, he called for his 

chariot in a proud and commanding 

voice. This was ever his glory and 

his solace and pulled by his steed, 

Rhaebus, it had carried him 

victorious from every battlefield in 

the past. When the chariot was

ought before him he first went up 

and nuzzled the head of his beloved 

horse before speaking to him in soft 

and loving tones. 'Long have we 

both lived,' he said, 'if aught be long 

to those who live upon this earth and 

must one day die. But today you shall 

either bear me back in victory while I 

hold the head of King Anaeas for all 

to see or else, if our force is not 

enough to achieve that aim, we will 

lie down together in death for I know 

that you, my gallant one, would never 

stoop to a stranger's bidding or 

endure a Trojan lord.' 

This said he mounted his chariot 

and picking up the reins in one hand, 

he grasped a pointed javelin in the 

other. Armed in this manner he drove 

with all speed towards the battle and 

when he arrived, with his heart

glowing at once with both shame 

and madness, he whipped his horse 

again and charged into the midst of 

his foe. After quickly killing three 

Arcadians he thrice called on Anaeas 

with a loud voice and Anaeas, 

hearing him, prayed in ecstasy. 'May 

the great father of the gods,' he cried, 

'and royal Apollo grant that Mezentius 

falls to me in this encounter!' 

Brandishing his spear he marched 

boldly forward to meet the hated 

king. But when he saw Anaeas and 

his warlike gestures Mezentius 

called. 'Why try to terrify me, fiercest 

of foes, now that you have robbed me 

of my son? That was the only way 

by which anyone could have worked 

my ruin. But now you should 

beware for I fear not death and will 

no longer pray to any deity. But

enough! I am coming to either kill you 

or die.' 

Hurling his javelin at his enemy 

he then wheeled his chariot round in 

a tight circle and picked up another 

from the floor of his car which he sent 

unerringly on its way. Three times he 

did this but each time Vulcan's sturdy 

shield held the darts. Then three more 

times Mezentius wheeled his chariot 

and attacked Anaeas but although the 

darts flew with power and accuracy 

from his experienced hands, three 

more times the hero of Troy stopped 

them with his great shield. Eventually 

Anaeas began to tire of plucking darts 

from his shield and felt a need to 

retaliate. But although wounded, 

Mezentius was an experienced 

warrior and well knew how to keep up 

the pressure and make it difficult for

an opponent to attack him and so 

Anaeas began to find himself feeling 

uneasy and doubtful about the 

outcome of the contest. But at last, 

as Mezentius wheeled his chariot 

around for another cast, he wheeled 

in too wide a circle and this gave 

Anaeas a chance to spring from 

behind the cover of his shield and hurl 

his spear into the neck of the chariot's 

steed. The gallant beast reared up 

on his hind legs and, in his death 

agonies, lashed the air with his 

forelocks. This in turn upended the 

light car and tumbled the wounded 

Mezentius out onto the ground 

whereupon the Trojan king drew his 

sword and ran up to the fallen chief. 

'Where now,' he cried, 'is the fierce 

Mezentius and his savage spirit?' 

'Insulting foe,' cried the Tuscan

lord when he had recovered his wits. 

'Why menace me with death? You 

may kill me without crime. I came 

not into this battle to be spared; only 

to kill or be killed. But one boon I 

do ask in the name of thy grace, if 

any there be, which is due to a 

vanquished enemy. I beg that you 

suffer my corpse to be interred for 

I well know that the hatred of my 

subjects is blazing all round me. So 

screen me, I pray, from their fury and 

vouchsafe me a share in the tomb 

of my son.' 

So saying he welcomed the 

sword which Anaeas thrust into his 

throat and allowed the glistening 

blood to flow across his chest in 

broad red streams.

Book XI 

On the next day, as the Goddess of 

Dawn rose from into the sky and 

began lifting the dew from the ground, 

Anaeas looked with horror on the 

plain which was littered with the 

bodies of the slaughtered. But 

although overwhelmed by a need to 

have his dead comrades buried, he 

first gave thanks to heaven for his 

victory and on a mound next to a giant 

oak, he set up a trophy to 

commemorate his success and next to 

it he placed the blood spattered 

armour, shield and well used 

weapons of Mezentius. Turning then 

to the chiefs who had gathered around 

him he said. 'A mighty deed has been

accomplished. When you look upon 

this trophy you can dismiss from your 

hearts all fears for the future. See!' 

He said pointing to one of the bodies 

on the plain, 'over there is Mezentius 

as my hands have left him and so 

now we must march to the walls of 

Latium. We must not hesitate to take 

advantage of our enemy's disorder 

and nor must we allow our fainthearted 

delay us with their talk of 

unnecessary dangers. But first let us 

consign our unburied friends to the 

earth and give thanks comrades who 

have purchased this land for us with 

their blood. We must also send to 

Evander's sorrowing town the body of 

Pallas who, lacking in nought of 

manly worth, has been brought down 

before his time.' 

As thoughts of the brave youth

filled his mind Anaeas' eyes filled 

with tears and he returned to his tent 

where the breathless body had been 

laid out and was being watched over 

by the aged Acoetes, who in the old 

days had been armour bearer to 

Evander, his Arcadian lord, but had 

later been appointed guardian of the 

youth he loved. Such had been the 

popularity of Pallas that his corpse 

was surrounded by mourners and 

when Anaeas entered the tent, a 

mighty wail went up as the mourners 

smote their breasts and put their 

agony into words. 

Seeing the body of Pallas laid out 

in all his youthful beauty and the deep 

cleft in his chest, Anaeas broke into 

tears and cried. 'Can it be, unhappy 

boy, that in the moment of our 

triumph Fortune has robbed you of the

ight to look upon my kingdom and 

ride victoriously back to your 

father's home? Not such was the 

parting pledge I gave on your behalf 

when your father clasped me to his 

bosom and warned of a foe which 

was both fierce and stubborn. Now 

he nurtures the empty hope of seeing 

his son again and is making vows to 

heaven while piling the altars with 

gifts whilst we, we who know the 

truth, are mourning that beloved 

son with the vain service of our 

sorrow. Unlucky father! His eyes shall 

see what an Ausonian spear has made 

of his son. But is this the triumph and 

proud return we had hoped for? 

What happened to my solemn pledge 

that I would care for his son?' 

Reproaching himself several 

times Anaeas wailed his fill and then

gave the order for the corpse to be 

taken to Pallenteum and also sent a 

thousand men from his army to attend 

the last service of woe and also 

lend their countenance to his father's 

tears; albeit a scant solace for such 

a mighty sorrow. 

After the body of Pallas had been 

placed on the specially made bier 

and covered with a white shroud, it 

was bedecked with green leaves, 

beautiful violets and drooping 

hyacinths which are so loved by 

delicate maidens. This done Anaeas 

fetched two garments embroidered 

with gold and purple which Queen 

Dido had made for him in those 

happier days when she had delighted 

in toils which pleased her lover. 

These he placed on the bier and on 

top of them he piled the weapons

which had been taken from the 

warriors Pallas had killed. After this 

he filled several large boxes with 

plunder taken from the enemy dead 

and ordered them taken to the 

youth's father. Of the youths he had 

captured so they could be sacrificed 

to the prince's spirit, he bound the 

hands of each one behind their 

backs and ordered them to delivered 

to Evander so that he could have the 

privilege of cutting their throats when 

he cremated his son. The bier was 

then placed in a cart which was still 

spattered with Ausonian blood and 

the procession slowly began to make 

its way out of the encampment. It 

was led by Acoetes who never ceased 

marring his breast with blows and 

tearing at his face with his nails and 

the men who followed kept their

spears pointed downward out of 

respect for the brave youth who had 

fallen to the shaft of King Turnus. 

As the long retinue passed him by 

Anaeas stood with his emotions in 

tatters and groaning deeply. 'Too 

many,' he uttered in a last sorrowful 

word of farewell. 'are hunted and 

caught by Death on the battlefield and 

so I bid you hail Pallas and forever 

farewell.' Then he turned and went 

back into his tent. 

Later in the afternoon a group of 

ambassadors arrived from Latium 

with olive branches in their hands and 

begging an act of grace. They 

requested they be allowed to bury 

their dead, many of whom still had 

the weapons which killed them lodged 

in their bodies. No man, they 

reminded the king, wars with the

vanquished or those who have left the 

light of day. Consequently they 

begged that he show mercy to men he 

had once known as his host and 

subjects of his bride's father. 

The good Anaeas listened to the 

prayers which merited no rebuke and 

granted them permission to collect 

their fallen comrades. He then 

bespoke them thus. 'What undeserved 

misfortune, men of Latium, has 

caught you up in a war so terrible and 

made you turn against those who 

were once your friends? You ask 

peace for those on whom the War 

God's die has fallen but nay! I would 

fain grant it to the living as well. I 

would not be here had Fate not 

assigned me a portion of this land 

as a home and nor would I wage war 

against your nation. It was your king

who abandoned our alliance and 

sought instead to shelter under the 

warlike banner of King Turnus. But 

better would it have been if you now 

mourned the death of King Turnus. 

If he sought to end this war by 

strength of arms and to expel us from 

Ausonia, duty bade him confront me 

man to man so that whichever of us 

lived could decide the course of 

destiny. But go now and bury your 

unlucky townsmen and their friends.' 

His speech finished the 

ambassadors stood and gazed at 

each other in silence. Then Drances, 

the eldest by birth and a man who 

was ever embroiled in dispute with 

the youthful King Turnus, spoke up. 

'Oh mighty hero of Troy,' he said, 

'who has proved his worth by deeds 

of bravery: what praise can I utter

which would match you with the 

stars? Shall I first admire your sacred 

love of right or the toils of your hand 

in war? It will be our privilege to 

report your answer to our native 

town and should any favouring 

chance allow, make you the friend 

once more of King Latinus. Let King 

Turnus look for alliances were he 

may but it will be our pride to help 

you rear the massive walls of your 

new Troy.' 

As he spoke the other 

ambassadors nodded their agreement 

and a truce of twelve days was agreed 

so that while the dead were granted 

the right to cross the waters of the 

Styx on the ferryman's barge, 

Trojans and Latians could mingle 

on the plain, in the forest or on the 

mountain slopes without fear.

Burial parties from both sides 

went to cut wood and their axes 

brought low many tall pines which 

had spent their lives reaching for the 

sky and also many oaks and fragrant 

cedars. 

But now flying Fame, the 

harbinger of cruel agony, took wing 

and filled with her dreadful tidings the 

ears of Evander and his people. But 

cruelest of all was the fact that only a 

few hours previously she had been 

proclaiming Pallas a hero and 

conqueror of his foe. But now, at this 

change of tidings, the Arcadians 

sorrowfully gathered up their funeral 

torches and streamed out of the gates 

to meet the approaching funeral train 

and, as soon as it was within earshot, 

they took up the wailing and sent their 

cries up to heaven. When the bier had

passed the long line of downcast 

mourners and entered the city, the 

matrons in their homes took up the 

cry and set the air ablaze with their 

shrieks while no force could hold 

Evander back as he rushed to the bier 

and flung himself upon the body of 

his son. With choking sobs and tears 

streaming down his cheeks he cried. 

'No my son! My Pallas! This was 

not the promise you gave your sire. 

You swore you would be cautious and 

would ignore the lure of the War 

God's gold. But your desire for the 

glory of battle has brought you low. 

Alas for the unlucky first fruits of 

youth and the cruel foretaste of war! 

Alas for my vows and prayers which 

went unheard by the gods! Alas too 

for my blessed spouse whom death 

has spared these tidings of woe. But

I, who have lived on and triumphed 

over the years which weigh on my 

shoulders, must now suffer this grief 

and survive in solitary fatherhood. 

Would that I had followed the 

friendly standard of Troy and fallen 

in your place to a Rutulian spear! 

Would that this funeral train should 

have borne me home instead of you!' 

King Evander paused for a while 

to let his tears flow down onto the bier 

and then, after gathering himself, 

continued in kingly fashion. 'But for 

this I do not blame the men of Troy, 

the treaty we made or the hands we 

plighted in friendship. This horror is 

but what Destiny ordained long ago 

as fitting for my old age. If it was 

written that my son should die before 

his time, it is well that he fell when 

leading an Arcadian army and after

having killed many of his enemy. 

Nay, my Pallas, Anaeas and his noble 

Trojans have given you trophies taken 

from all of the warriors you sent 

down in death and I would wish for 

no worthier end and no worthier 

honour than that. If but your ages had 

been the same, proud King Turnus 

would not be standing at this 

moment. Of that I am certain.' 

'But why,' he said turning to some 

of the Trojans who had accompanied 

the bier, 'should a misery like mine 

hold the Trojans back from the 

battle? Go back to your king and tell 

him of what I have said and also tell 

him that if I still hang on to this hated 

life of mine now my Pallas is slain, 

it is because of a Trojan hand which 

owes the debt of a dead King Turnus 

to both son and sire. I ask not for

triumph to gild my life, only for 

tidings which will ease the passage of 

my son as he travels down into the 

spectral world.' 

As the old king wept, back on 

the plain the Trojans and their allies 

busied themselves with the burial of 

their fallen comrades. Already Father 

Anaeas and Tarchon had set up the 

funeral pyres along the winding shore 

and to these the bodies of the Trojan, 

Arcadian and Etruscan slain were 

brought. When the fires had been lit 

and the murky smoke began to veil the 

heights of heaven in gloom, the 

mourners, sheathed in shining armour, 

made their way three times round the 

lighted pyres and were followed by 

the charioteers who joined in the 

wailing and sprinkled the ground 

with their tears. After this weapons

and armour which had been torn 

from the enemy dead were flung into 

the fires and friends brought 

personal belongings of the fallen 

which they also threw into the flames. 

Meanwhile a large contingent of 

warriors disappeared into the 

surrounding country and brought back 

many rustled swine and cattle which 

they proceeded to sacrifice to the 

gods and when this had been done, 

they stood around the fires and gazed 

sadly into the flames which consumed 

their friends. After the flames had 

died down, they maintained their 

guard and refused to let themselves 

be torn away until dark night had 

rolled round the sky and was being 

pushed into the western gloom by the 

coming of a new dawn. 

With similar zeal the ill-starred

Latians and their allies set up 

countless piles of wood along a 

different part of the shore, but 

depending on the custom of the city 

to which a dead man had belonged, 

they either cremated his body, buried 

it in the ground or took it home to 

his parents so they could mourn for 

their loved one before giving him 

a traditional funeral. Nevertheless, 

a large number of the fallen were 

so badly mutilated that no one knew 

who they were or which town they 

had come from and these were 

placed on a separate pyre so they 

could be honoured as unknown 

warriors who had fallen to the 

Trojan alliance. On the third day the 

mourners from both sides levelled the 

piles of ashes and collected the 

whitened bones which they put into

urns. But within the walls of Latium 

the wailing did not cease as many 

mothers, widows and orphans 

continued mourning their lost ones 

and together they all called down 

curses on the terrible war and also on 

the bridal rites of King Turnus. 

'It is he,' they cried, 'who should 

try the issue with Anaeas and not for 

us to give up our loved ones so that 

he can have the bride of his choice.' 

At this Drances cast his weight 

into the scale by saying that the 

wedding was a matter for King 

Turnus and Anaeas and that they 

should settle it by single combat. But 

against this many voices were raised 

and then the queen, with Alecto's 

pitiless viper still poisoning her 

thoughts, supported King Turnus and 

spoke passionately about the need for

the city to support him in the war. 

When she finished many who had 

wanted King Turnus and Anaeas to 

fight it out in single combat changed 

sides and began supporting King 

Turnus. 

The arguments continued until 

the late evening and just as they had 

reached their heights, there was a 

crowning blow as the embassy which 

had been sent to ask King Diomedes 

for help returned with sorrowful 

tidings. Their labours had gained 

them nought and neither had they 

been able to tempt Diomedes into 

joining the alliance with rich gifts of 

gold and fine linen. 

As a result the Latians and 

Rutulians were now forced to either 

look for other allies or sue for peace. 

King Latinus himself was so crushed

y this news, he at last began to 

realize that Anaeas was a man of 

destiny who had been brought to his 

shores by the will of heaven. In 

consequence, after giving the matter 

much thought, he summoned by royal 

decree a council of all the chieftains 

and when, several days later, they had 

gathered under his lofty roof, he 

ascended his throne which had been 

cleverly placed in a position which 

obliged all the gathered chieftains 

to look up to him. But kingly though 

he was, his shoulders were weighed 

down by his cares and his snowy brow 

told of one who had not known the 

meaning of joy for a long time. 

Nevertheless, once he had taken his 

seat on his throne he ordered the 

envoys who had returned from King 

Diomedes to repeat what the Argive

king had said and at this, a hush fell 

over the hall and Venulus began to 

speak. 

'Townsmen.' He said. 'We have 

been to the city of King Diomedes 

and have touched the hand which 

helped bring the realm of King Priam 

to the ground. We found him busily 

engaged raising his new city of 

Argyripa, the namesake of his 

ancestral people, in the land of 

Lapygian Garganus which has been 

won through his arms. When we 

gained his presence and he allowed us 

the liberty of speech, we proffered our 

gifts, informed him of our name and 

country and who our invader was. 

We also told him of the cause which 

had led us to him. But although he 

listened to all we had to say, when 

we had finished he replied as follows.

"Oh men of Ausonia, what bids you 

provoke an enemy you do not know? 

Know that all of us who profaned 

the sanctity of Troy with our bronze 

had to endure the hardships of war 

until we had drained them to the 

dregs. Yes, and we have had to pay a 

heavy price for the pleasure of our 

victory as those of us who are still 

alive are scattered the wide world 

over. Our troubles began almost as 

soon as Troy had been sacked for as 

we were returning to our homes our 

ships were scattered by a raging storm 

and many of us have since become 

wandering outcasts on foreign shores. 

The king of Mykene, who was the 

leader of the entire expedition, met an 

inglorious death in his own home 

by the hand of his atrocious spouse 

and the famed Kassandra was killed

alongside him. The great Odysseus 

has not been heard of for many 

years, though I did hear that King 

Anaeas rescued one of his men from 

the island of the Cyclops. But, need 

I go on and tell you of Neoptolemos 

or the portioned realms of 

Idomeneus' dismantled home? As for 

me, the cruel gods who have not 

allowed me to see my wife still 

constantly remind me of all my 

comrades who were robbed of their 

lives by Prince Hector and King 

Anaeas and who now haunt the 

streams and woods as birds. Alas, 

that the followers of my banner 

should suffer so terribly and make 

the air of the forests shriek with 

their sorrow. I have also been 

doomed to a life of sorrow and 

trouble ever since that fateful day my

frantic sword assailed the flesh of an 

immortal and I impiously wounded 

Aphrodite's sacred hand. Nay, nay, 

urge me no longer to a war like this. 

On the day the Pergamos fell and 

Helen was restored to King Menelaos, 

my war with the Trojans was over. I 

take no joy in thoughts of the past 

and as for the gifts which you have 

proffered, carry them rather to King 

Anaeas for I tell you that I have stood 

against the fury of his spear and 

joined hand to hand with him in 

combat. So trust the words of one 

who knows the ferocity of his attack 

and the whirlwind of his hurtling 

lance. Had Ida's soil borne but two 

more as valiant as Anaeas and Prince 

Hector, the war would have ended 

with King Priam marching to the 

gates of Mykene and the tears of

Argos would now be flowing for a 

destiny reversed. It was the bravery 

and skill of Prince Hector and King 

Anaeas which clogged the wheels of 

our Achaian assault and delayed our 

victory until the tenth year. Both 

were great in courage and martial 

prowess, though piety gave King 

Anaeas pre-eminence. If you take my 

advice you will do whatever you can 

to avoid a war with the Trojans for 

they are highly skilled in the 

intricacies of battle. You would fare 

better by making a treaty of peace 

with them.''' 

The envoys had scarcely finished 

their story when the sons of Ausonia 

began murmuring among themselves 

and the sound was like that of a rapid 

stream which is checked by rocks in 

its course and the confused sounds

which rise from the imprisoned 

torrent are re-echoed by the towering 

banks on either side. But as soon as 

the passions had died down and the 

anxious faces had settled again in 

calm, the monarch, after invoking 

heaven, began from his lofty throne. 

'To have taken your judgment,' 

he said, 'before our defeat would have 

been my pleasure and would have 

served us better than now when the 

foe is marching to our walls. We are 

waging a grievous war against one 

who is goddess-born and whom no 

battles overtire and the past has 

already shown that even in defeat the 

Trojans will refuse to lay down their 

weapons. But any hope we might 

have cherished of an alliance with 

King Diomedes is now gone and so 

we have to depend on ourselves. You

saw for yourselves how the Trojans 

and their allies slaughtered our men 

outside their encampment and so you 

know how slender our chances of 

success are and also of the utter ruin 

which stares us in the face. I blame 

no one as all did their best and 

strained themselves to their limits in 

the contest. But now, if you will lend 

me your attention, I will tell you the 

judgment of my wavering mind. 

There is an ancient territory of mine 

which borders the Tuscan river and 

extends lengthwise to the west, even 

beyond the Sicanian frontier. 

Auruncans and Rutulians are its 

tillers and they subdue its stubborn 

hills with the plough and pasture their 

flocks on its rugged slopes. Let this 

whole district with its lofty mountain 

and belt of pine forest be our friendly

gift to the Trojans and after naming 

equal terms of alliance, let us invite 

them to share our kingdom. If their 

passion is so strong, let them settle 

here and build themselves a city. 

However, if they have a mind to set 

sail and search out other lands, then 

let them be free to quit our soil and 

we will build them twenty ships of the 

best Ausonian timber and more if 

they wish. There is enough timber 

already felled on the river banks so 

just let them tell us the size and 

number of ships they desire and we 

will build them for them. We will 

also give them sails, rigging, masts, 

oars and whatever other supplies they 

need for their journey. Moreover, to 

convey our offer and ratify the 

league, we should send an embassy of 

a hundred Latians of the first rank

with peaceful branches of olive in 

their hands and also carrying presents 

of gold and ivory as well as the 

throne and striped robe which are the 

badges of our royalty. Give me your 

counsel now and help support our 

fainting commonwealth.' 

On hearing this Drances, who 

was ever being driven by his jealousy 

of King Turnus' martial fame, rose to 

his feet. His mother's noble blood 

gave him a lineage to be proud of but 

his father's side was considered to be 

obscure and so the other nobles were 

inclined to look down upon him. 

However, although known as a feeble 

hand in the heat of battle, he was a 

doughty warrior with the tongue and 

powerful in the arts of creating trouble 

and so, with words like these, he 

agitated the warrior chieftains and

heaped their anger high. 

'A matter obscure to none,' he 

said bowing to the king, 'and needing 

no voice of ours to make plain is that 

what you propose, my lord, is in 

the best interests of the whole 

kingdom. But tongues alas, can only 

mutter. Let King Turnus then accord 

me freedom of speech and subdue his 

angry responses as it was his illomened 

leadership and inauspicious 

temper which has led us to this. Ay, 

I will speak even if he does threaten 

me with a duel and death. Too 

many of our heroes went down into 

the nether world and caused their 

families to mourn while he made 

his attempt on the Trojan camp; 

scaring heaven with the din of his 

arms but always with flight in 

reserve. One gift there is, however,

over and above that which you would 

have us promise the Trojans. Do not 

let any man's status or threat of 

violence prevent you from bestowing 

your daughter on a foreign son in law 

and so form a worthy alliance. And 

also be sure to base the peace we seek 

on a covenant which shall last 

forever.' 

Drances paused for a moment 

but after looking around him at the 

assembled chieftains, he turned his 

attention back to the throne. 'But if 

the terror of the approaching foe is 

now so absolute over our minds and 

hearts,' he continued, 'let us go 

straight to King Anaeas with our 

gifts and promises and ask for his 

grace. Ask him to withdraw to his 

encampment so we can organise the 

alliance and bestow on him whatever

he desires. Why fling our wretched 

countrymen once more into the throat 

of danger? You are the head and 

wellspring of the ills which the people 

of Latium have to bear and peace is 

what we ask of you, not war. Yes,' 

he said turning to look at King 

Turnus, 'peace and the one surety 

that can make peace sacred.' Then 

addressing himself wholly to King 

Turnus, he continued. 'I care not if 

you say I am your enemy and I am 

willing to throw myself at your feet 

when I beg you to pity those of your 

own kin and withdraw as a beaten 

man should. The truth is that we 

were routed by the Trojans and have 

looked upon the corpses of our slain 

for long enough. There are now 

large areas of our land which have 

no men to till the soil or tend the

livestock. But if glory and the 

handsome dowry of King Latinus still 

stirs you and you can call up into your 

breast the courage you need, be bold 

for once and advance to meet the foe. 

We should not have to suffer and 

have our lives ruined because you 

want the blessings of a queenly bride. 

It is your duty to meet the man who 

challenged you in single combat.' 

At this the fury of King Turnus 

flared up in his breast and rising to 

his feet he heaved a great groan and 

spoke from the bottom of his heart. 

'Your stream of speech, Drances,' he 

growled, 'is ever abundant and seems 

never to stop. Whenever the senate 

is summoned and the war of words is 

calling for brave tongues, you are 

always the first in the field. Yet we 

want not men to fill our court with

the clever talk you hurl from safe 

ground while the men on the walls 

are awaiting the foe with spears in 

their hands. Go on speaking 

eloquently and brand me a coward if 

you wish, for it is the confusion and 

indecision caused by your tongue 

which piles up those heaps of dead 

heroes you talk about and also lets the 

Trojan king plant our fields with his 

victory trophies. But what is the use 

of words at a time when valour is 

needed? Can you not see that at this 

moment the massed enemy is 

marching to our walls? 

'Well,' he continued turning to 

the assembly, 'are we marching out 

to the meet the foe? Why is everyone 

so slow? Will you never think of the 

War God as somewhere other than in 

Drances' windy tongue or his flying

feet which flee from the very thought 

of a spear? What? Beaten? Us? 

What foulest of slanderers will brand 

us as beaten? We shall yet tear down 

that victory trophy and look on a Tiber 

cluttered with the bodies of Anaeas' 

bravest warriors. It was no beaten arm 

that Bitias and giant Pandarus found 

in me, or the many others I sent to 

their deaths when I entered the 

Trojan encampment.' 

Turning back to Drances he said. 

'Madman! You say there is no hope 

in war and then throw everyone into 

panic with your words of fear. That 

way you only heighten the prowess of 

an attacking nation which has 

already once been conquered by 

King Agamenmon.' 

King Turnus paused again for a 

moment and looked around him.

Then, redirecting his gaze at the 

assembly in general he said. 'Why 

listen when a trickster, in his villainy, 

feigns himself too weak to face a 

quarrel with me but uses words to 

sting instead? Never, I promise you, 

shall he lose his life to my hand and 

so he need be troubled no longer.' 

Turning to the king he said. 

'Now, gracious sire, I return my 

attention to the throne and the august 

matter which demands our counsel. If 

there is no hope beyond what our 

arms can do and if we have been so 

wholly destroyed that our star can 

never rise again, then we must sue for 

peace and stretch out craven hands in 

suppliance. Yet, if one man contains 

a spark of the worth which once was 

ours, him I would esteem beyond all 

others. By that I mean a man among

us who would rather lie down in 

death before listening to all this talk 

of cowering before the Trojans and 

giving them everything they want.' 

At these words the warrior chiefs 

raised a mighty cheer which rocked 

the hall and King Turnus had to wait 

until the hubbub had died down 

before he was able to proceed. 

'However,' he continued once 

silence had been restored, 'everyone 

seems to forget that we still have 

a great store of power. We have a 

harvest of youth as yet unreaped and 

cities which are yet to come to our 

aid. Remember that the hurricane of 

war has swept over both armies and 

that the Trojans won their glory at the 

cost of many lives. But unlike us, 

they cannot receive reinforcements 

and so why are we seized by fear

efore the second trumpet blows? 

The wounds of many have healed and 

those who fled the battlefield through 

inexperience or fear are now ready to 

take up arms again and place 

themselves in the enemy's path. This 

time they will not be just attacking 

an enemy encampment, they will be 

defending their homes and families 

and so we need no longer fear their 

fear. Also, even if we are not getting 

help from Diomedes, we still have 

Messapus and Tolumnius as well as 

all those men who were sent to us by 

other cities but who arrived too late 

to take part in the battle. We even 

have Camilla of the noble Volscian 

race with her many followers in 

gleaming bronze and her band of wild 

maiden charioteers. But if it is me 

alone the Trojans challenge to the

fight and you feel my life is 

obstructing the good of our nation, 

courage has not fled with such 

loathing from my hands that I would 

refuse to take up the challenge. No, 

I will confront King Anaeas even if 

he does wear the armour of Vulcan 

and proves to be as strong as Achilles. 

To you,' he said looking up at the 

king on the throne, 'who are my royal 

father in law I devote this my life for 

I, King Turnus, am second to none in 

valour and ever willing to meet King 

Anaeas in single combat. So pray 

he calls on me and don't let Drances 

go in my stead with gifts and his 

cowardly words of suppliance.' 

However, while the Ausonian 

assembly was arguing over what they 

should do, King Anaeas was busy 

moving his army from the

encampment to the field and as he 

began marching with his Arcadian 

and Tuscan allies, Fame carried the 

news to the townspeople and filled 

their breasts with terror. In an instant 

their minds became obsessed with 

thoughts of the carnage to come and 

fear invaded every breast. Some 

young boys clutched at the flimsy 

weapons they used for training while 

others, who carried only light staves, 

clamoured for weapons which could 

kill and as they did so, their weeping 

parents moaned in their agony and 

muttered prayers to the gods on 

Olympus. In the assembly hall the 

confused din which soared up to the 

skies after King Turnus had finished 

speaking was similar to that made by 

the great flocks of squawking birds 

which circle over a shady grove on a

summer's evening and then settle 

down in their thousands along the 

water's edge. When he heard that 

the Trojans had begun their advance 

King Turnus seized his moment and 

cried. 'Good citizens, how can you 

stay here in council and sit praising 

peace while the Trojans are attacking 

us with weapons in hand.' 

Without waiting for a reply he 

called on the warrior chieftains to 

follow him and dashed down into 

the courtyard in front of the palace. 

Once in the open courtyard he turned 

to Volusus. 'Volusus.' He said. 'Bid 

the Volscian squadrons to arm and 

also take command of the Latians.' 

Then turning to Messapus and Coras 

he told them to organise the chariots 

into their battle formations and also 

arrange the defence of the city gates.

As the two kings set off to do as 

they had been asked he turned to the 

remaining chiefs and ordered some 

to have the ramparts and watchtowers 

fully manned and the rest he 

told to form their men up along with 

his and together they would attack the 

Trojans when the time was right. 

In moments there was a rush of 

armed men throughout every part of 

the city while King Latinus, left alone 

in the council chamber with the 

debate unfinished, pondered the 

unhappy fortune which beset his city. 

Rising slowly from his throne to go 

to his lofty chambers he continued to 

reproach himself for not having 

welcomed the Trojans with open 

arms and giving the city a foreign 

husband for his daughter. But as he 

walked slowly to his palatial

edroom with its great bed and 

sumptuous decorations, out in front 

of the walls the soldiers hastily dug 

trenches and built palisades with the 

sharpest spears they could find and, 

as they worked, the trumpets blared 

out their warning of coming battle and 

death. But as the men on the walls 

rushed to their stations many were 

infuriated to find themselves 

severely obstructed by a large 

crowd of motley matrons, boys, old 

men and other non-combatants who 

had climbed up to the battlements so 

they could see the enemy and watch 

the battle in safety. Meanwhile the 

queen, as was customary, had 

gathered the noble Latian mothers and 

was on her way to the temple of 

Pallas Athene with lavish gifts in her 

hand while at her side walked her

daughter Lavinia, the cause of this 

cruel woe, with her beautiful eyes cast 

down. After entering the temple the 

matrons burned sweet smelling 

incense and the queen cried out in 

her sorrow. 'Tritonian maiden, Lady 

of arms and mistress of war, I beg 

you stretch forth your hand and break 

the spear of the Trojan freebooter. 

Lay him prostrate on the ground and 

leave his men to grovel under our 

lofty portals.' 

In the palace, as the queen 

prayed, King Turnus was arming 

himself for battle and once he had put 

on his shining armour he ran from his 

quarters in the palace to the front gate 

and watched as Camilla approached 

with her army. Such was the military 

bearing of the men and women who 

followed the combative maiden that

her arrival filled him with hope and 

confidence and as soon as she had 

stepped down from her chariot, he 

went to greet her with joy in his 

heart. The formal greetings having 

been completed she bespoke him thus. 

'King Turnus, I have come a long way 

and so beg that you allow me to be 

the first to confront the Trojans and 

their allies while you and your foot 

soldiers remain in the background 

to defend the city.' 

To this, as he gazed steadily at 

the beautiful but bellicose queen, 

King Turnus replied. 'Oh maiden! 

Glory of Italy! What thanks shall I 

strive to offer you? How will I ever 

repay your timely arrival? Your 

presence lifts my soul to the stars 

and so how could I refuse your 

request? However, the spies I have

sent to watch the Trojans tell me that 

King Anaeas has cunningly sent his 

light chariots ahead to scour the plain 

while he follows behind with his 

heavily armed foot soldiers. 

Therefore I think our stratagem 

should be to take our position in the 

woodland gorge through which he 

must pass. It is a narrow thoroughfare, 

especially for an army, and so if you 

along with Messapus engage the 

Tuscan chariots there, I will hold my 

men in reserve until I see how the 

battle develops.' 

Leaving the quarrelsome, war 

loving queen King Turnus went to see 

the other chieftains and explain his 

battle plans to them. For the position 

of his own army he thought of the 

narrow winding glen which was 

hemmed in on both sides by hills

and in which Camilla would launch 

the first attack. On top of one of the 

lower hills was a concealed plateau 

which would hide his men from the 

Trojans and from where he could 

watch the progress of the battle and 

be in a position to either support 

Camilla and Messapus or give chase 

to the Trojans once the warlike queen 

had sent them running back to their 

encampment with their tails between 

their legs. Consequently, it was to 

here that he moved his warriors and 

settled down to await the arrival of the 

unsuspecting Trojans. 

Meantime in the palace of Jove 

on the heights of Mount Olympus, 

Dian, Latona's daughter, was 

addressing her friend Opis the swift 

with words of sorrow. 'Ah,' she cried, 

'Camilla, who was dedicated to me by

her father, is on her way once more 

to ruthless war. But this time it is in 

vain that she girds herself with the 

arms of our sisterhood? Darling of 

mine though she is, I cannot defy 

the will of Almighty Jove. When 

Metabus, her father, was exiled for 

his cruel and tyrannous ways and was 

departing from his ancient city of 

Privernum, he was relentlessly 

pursued by the people he had once 

ruled but who had learned to hate him. 

When he fled from his palace he took 

his infant child to share his 

banishment and called her Camilla, 

after her mother. As the father fled 

carrying his arms and with his baby 

daughter tied to his breast, he made 

for the safety of the mountain 

forests. But he found himself 

confronted by the river Amasenus

which, as the result of a great 

downpour, had become host to a 

raging torrent. His first instinct was 

to plunge into the water and wade 

across but such was the fearsome 

surge of water, he began to fear for 

his little daughter and so paused to 

try and think of way to ensure her 

safety. Eventually, when he noticed 

that the opposite bank of the river 

was thick with tall bulrushes he had 

an idea and so, unfastening his tiny 

daughter from his chest, he tied the 

precious bundle to the tip of his great 

spear. Then after making sure the 

bonds were secure he took a firm hold 

on the lower part and prayed. 

"Gracious Dian, Latona's maiden 

daughter, huntress and princess of the 

forests: protect this little child and I 

vow that she will serve you for all her

life. I beg that you care for the baby 

I now entrust to the uncertain air." 

When he finished his prayer he swung 

round in a circle like someone hurling 

a heavy weight and let the spear go. 

After flying up into the air the spear 

crossed the brimming waters and 

landed in the tall rushes on the 

opposite bank. Then as his pursuers 

were pressing closer by the moment, 

Metabus threw off his heavy armour 

and leapt into the water and, after 

struggling through the waist high 

torrent which on several occasions 

threatened to sweep him away to his 

death, he reached the other side and 

triumphantly plucked his precious 

little daughter from the reeds. From 

that time onwards no city or town 

ever housed the independent pair as 

they preferred to live with the

shepherds on the lonely mountain 

slopes or in the forests. Here, 

among the sheep, goats, shepherds 

and beasts of the wild Metabus 

reared his little daughter on milk from 

an untamed mare. As soon as she 

could stand on her little feet unaided, 

in honour of Dian, the goddess who 

had protected her, he placed a tiny 

javelin in her hand and slung a small 

quiver and bow across her shoulders. 

'By the time she was twelve she 

was an adept with the javelin and 

sling and with her bow she often liked 

to bring down a high flying crane or 

snow-white swan for her father's 

supper. By the time she was fifteen 

she had grown into a beautiful young 

maiden and many a mother in the 

surrounding towns tried to woo her 

for their son. But Camilla, with no

thought but for her father's promise 

to Dian, continued, in unsullied 

purity, to cherish her love for the 

maiden hunter's life.' Here Dian 

paused and looked down on the 

land of Italy for a while and then 

continued. 'Ah! Would that her 

independent spirit and love of the 

War God's arts did not incline her to 

try and strike a blow at the Trojans 

because she has tempted a cruel fate. 

But come! Since cruel destiny is 

darkening the air around her, let us 

glide down from here and repair to 

where the tearful battle is about to 

commence. But bring your arms 

and draw from your quiver an 

avenging arrow so that the man who 

profanes Camilla with the stroke of 

death can pay for his arrogance with 

his life. Later, in the hollow of a

cloud, I will bear off the body of my 

darling and lay her down in her own 

land.' 

As soon as Dian had finished the 

two goddesses leapt over the palace 

balcony and flew through the air until 

they arrived at the battlefield. 

As the goddesses arrived the 

Etruscan chariots, followed by the 

Trojan and Arcadian heavy infantry 

were approaching the thoroughfare 

where Camilla and Messapus awaited 

them, but just as they were about to 

enter the narrow pass, Camilla raced 

out onto the plain with her charioteers 

and drew up in battle order before 

them. Then with a sudden shout she 

charged forward and in a moment 

the sky was darkened by the hail of 

missiles which flew from all sides. 

But although there was death on both

sides, after the battle had been in 

progress for a while, everyone saw 

Etruscan Tyrrhenus and Volscian 

Aconteus charge each other with their 

spears in hand and when the chariots 

collided with a thunderous sound, 

they saw Aconteus fall to the ground 

with a spear sticking from his chest. 

Almost at once the Voslcians broke 

the line of battle and slinging their 

shields behind them, turned their 

chariots citywards and flew from the 

battle. The Etruscans immediately 

gave chase but as as they entered the 

narrow thoroughfare, Camilla turned 

her chariots and along with those of 

Messapus, charged into the throng and 

then, as like the sea which ebbs and 

flows with the tide, the line of battle 

began swaying backwards and 

forwards as sometimes the Trojans

and their allies gained ground while 

at other times they were driven back. 

Twice the Etruscans drove the 

Volscians who faced them back in 

rout but each time they were quickly 

supported by men from King Turnus' 

reserves and regained the ground they 

had lost. But as the day progressed 

and the groans of the dying mingled 

with the triumphant shouts of their 

killers continued to rise up into the 

air, the War God danced with joy 

on the white marble floor of Jove's 

Olympian palace. He watched as 

Volscian Orsilochus hurled his spear 

at the horse of Tuscan Remulus 

because he was afraid to face the 

mounted charioteer. The point lodged 

under the horses' ear and, maddened 

by the pain, the beast reared up and 

turfed Remulus out of his light

chariot and onto the ground. But 

before Remulus had a chance to 

regain his feet Orsilochus raced up 

and drove his sword into the fallen 

man's stomach. However, before 

Orsilochus had a chance to withdraw 

his sword, he was caught in the back 

by a spear which seemed to have 

come from nowhere and so he 

collapsed in death on top of the 

corpse he had intended to despoil. 

Etruscan Catillus was also 

tumbled from his chariot by a spear 

which seemed to come from nowhere 

and Arcadian Iollas felled the giant 

Herminius who was famed for his 

courage. Such was his bravery that 

the thought of wounds held no terrors 

for Herminius and so he had followed 

King Turnus to the battle without a 

helmet on his head or armour to

protect his chest and shoulders. But 

when Iollas brought his sword down 

on the unprotected head and the blade 

pierced his brain, such was the speed 

with which death descended on 

Herminius' eyes that he never for a 

moment regretted his folly. 

As the carnage continued 

Camilla, her double-headed axe in 

her right hand, her quiver full or 

arrows on her back and one white 

breast with its small pink nipple 

exposed to the light of day, leapt for 

joy like an Amazon and ordered her 

followers to launch a coordinated 

volley of javelins which laid low 

many of her attackers. Then she 

charged in with her great axe and 

began laying about her. Yet although 

the Trojans eventually forced her and 

her women warriors to retreat, they

only retreated for a short distance, just 

enough to allow their jubilant 

pursuers to lose their formation before 

they turned and attacked again. Then 

retreating once more to let the massed 

ranks spread out a bit, Camilla turned 

and attacked again and in this way, 

although the Trojans and their allies 

slowly gained ground, every step cost 

them dearly. 

Around the warrior maiden were 

her chosen comrades and also the 

maidens Larina, Tulla and Tarpeia, 

all of whom, like Camilla, wielded 

great double headed axes. These 

daughters of Ausonia, whom 

glorious Camilla herself had chosen 

to be her pride and joy and also fight 

alongside her, were able to deal alike 

with peace and war and as woman 

warriors they were like the Amazons

of Thrace who had once thundered 

over the streams of Thermodon with 

their blazoned arms and sacked the 

city of Hippolyte. Or Penthesilea, the 

War God's darling, who loved 

careering to and fro in her chariot 

while her army of woman, amid a 

hubbub of shrill cries, all leapt in 

ecstasy and shook their moony 

shields as they glorified in the death 

they had dealt out. But of the men 

Camilla and her followers killed it 

soon became impossible to count 

their numbers. However, first was 

Euneus, Clytius' arrogant son whose 

unguarded chest Camilla pierced with 

a spear as he stood facing her. Down 

he went disgorging streams of blood 

and clutching at the shaft which 

protruded from his chest as if to try 

and remove it. But it was buried

so deeply that his flagging strength 

wasn't up to the task. After him she 

killed a Trojan called Liris and when 

Pagasus rushed up to help his friend, 

she caught him in the neck with her 

axe and removed his head from his 

shoulders. To these victories she 

added Etruscan Amastrus, son of 

Hippotas and then, as she pressed 

on after those who fled before her, 

she brought the fleeing Tereus to the 

ground with a spear. As every spear 

she launched from her maiden's hand 

never failed to kill a man, she went 

on to slaughter four more of the 

Trojan alliance. 

Looking around to check on her 

warriors Camilla espied in the 

distance the giant Ornytus who had 

come to war dressed in the strange 

fashion of a hunter. A cloak of

leather hung from his broad shoulders 

and his head was encased in a huge 

wolf's head. The wide open jaws 

exposed the white, razor sharp teeth 

and the whole impression was of a 

great grinning wolf. In his hand 

Ornytus carried a large rustic pike 

but, as he began pushing his way to 

the front of the battle line, he was so 

obviously different from the rest of 

his comrades that Camilla couldn't 

resist the urge to raise her bow and 

bring him to the ground with an 

arrow through the wolf's mouth; an 

easy task for one who had grown 

up with a bow in her hand. Then 

driving up in her chariot she 

bespoke the dying man thus. 

'Tuscan, you thought yourself still 

chasing the beasts of the forest, but 

the day has come when a woman's

hand has refuted the vaunts of your 

nation. Yet no slight glory shall you 

carry down to your father's shades 

because you will always be able to 

say that you fell to the hand of 

Camilla.' 

After leaving the stricken man 

she went on to kill Orsilochus and 

Butes, two huge Trojans who had 

once fought off the massed Achaians 

when they had tried to storm the walls 

of Troy. Butes she speared from 

behind as he turned to flee while 

Orsilochus she killed by deception. 

She started by pretending to flee and 

when he gave chase in his chariot she 

began driving round in great circles 

which grew ever smaller until at last 

it became impossible to tell who was 

the pursuer and who was the pursued. 

But as the circle continued to diminish

she became the pursuer and he the 

pursued and she ended the chase by 

bringing her great axe down on the 

back of his neck and cutting his torso 

almost in half. Such was her frenzy 

that as soon as he fell to the ground, 

she jumped from her chariot and 

began hacking at his body with her 

axe and didn't stop until what had 

once been the brave Orsilochus had 

become completely unrecognisable. 

It chanced that just as she had 

finished with Orsilochus, Ligurian 

Aunus stumbled on the scene in his 

chariot. This youth had always been 

known for his sharp tricks and when 

he saw that he had stumbled on the 

ferocious queen and that her light, two 

horsed chariot was parked beside her, 

he realized he could not escape 

through flight. In consequence he

tried to save his life through trickery 

and so called out. 'What great glory 

would it be if you, a woman, jumped 

into your chariot and put your trust in 

flight? Why not spurn your chance 

of escape and dare to meet me, a man, 

in hand to hand combat. We will 

fight on foot and then we shall soon 

see who strips the armour from 

whom.' 

The queen, still in the grips of 

her frenzy immediately moved to 

meet her challenger with axe and 

shield. But as soon as the youth 

judged that his trickery had worked 

and the queen was far enough away 

from her car, he lashed his horse and 

darted away as quickly as he could. 

At this the maiden queen raced back 

to her chariot and began giving 

chase. 'False Ligurian,' she yelled,

'who thinks his trickery will save 

his life. Don't you know what a 

mistake is?' 

So saying she picked up one of 

the spears which lay on the floor of 

her car and whipped her two horses. 

Slowly she caught up with the 

fleeing youth and, as she came up 

behind him, she drove her spear into 

his back and tumbled him onto the 

ground. 

But all this time the Father of 

Men and Gods had been watching 

the battle from his seat on the top of 

Olympus and when he saw the 

carnage Camilla was causing, he 

goaded Tarchon the Tuscan to wrath 

and sent him into the fray. At the 

Father's prompting Tarchon whipped 

his horse and drove his chariot into the 

front line and there, after calling on

each of his charioteers by name, he 

cried. 'Oh ye hearts of Tuscany which 

are supposed to never feel fear, why 

are you now so sluggish? None of you 

are ever slow to hear the call of love 

and when the lute or lyre give the 

word, you always rush to the Bacchic 

dance. So why are the weapons in 

your hands now so idle? What 

strange cowardice has come over 

you? How can the enemy ever be 

afraid of men whose only delight is 

to dance the time away with pretty 

young girls until the sacrificial feast is 

announced and the delicious smell of 

the roasting victim invites them to the 

tall trees of the grove.' 

So saying he whipped his steed 

and, ever ready for the death he 

intended to bestow on others, he 

drove into the midst of the fray. He

first attacked Venulus by dragging 

him from his chariot and, as the 

stunned man lay on the earth, he 

jumped to the ground and quickly 

tied his victim's left foot to the back 

of his chariot before remounting and 

driving off at a wild and violent 

speed. 

When the Latians saw Tarchon 

dragging Venulus behind his chariot 

they sent up a great shout of despair 

and watched as Tarchon, after 

driving around in triumph for a while, 

halted his chariot and, after picking up 

his spear, slowly and deliberately 

began feeling for an unprotected part 

of Venulus' chest with the point. 

Venulus, however, in a desperate 

attempt to stop Tarchon sinking the 

spear into his chest, kept violently 

twisting and turning his body. But

as when the golden eagle rises into 

the air with a serpent he has caught 

in his claws and the wounded reptile 

twists and writhes and hisses from its 

mouth while it tries to bite its 

attacker, the eagle, undismayed, 

attacks it with his hooked beak. In 

such a way Tarchon eventually 

managed to sink his spear into the 

writhing body of Venulus and, after 

remounting his car, he once more 

dragged his prize in triumph around 

the plain. 

Following their chief's auspicious 

lead, the Tuscans rallied to the battle 

and Arruns, a man chosen by fate, 

decided he would send Camilla down 

in death. In consequence, everywhere 

the maiden dashed in the battle, 

Arruns followed relentlessly and 

watched in silence. But although he

kept his bow at the ready, for a long 

time he was unable to get close 

enough to loose off a arrow. But then 

it chanced that Camilla saw 

Chloreus, who had once been a priest 

to Cybele and who was conspicuous 

because of the beautiful leopard's skin 

which hung from his back. He was 

in the Arcadian front line and was 

drawing arrows from a golden quiver 

on his back and launching them at 

the Volscians from his Lykian bow. 

When she saw him, the warrior 

maiden was overcome with a desire 

to capture such a beautiful leopard 

skin and so after singling him out 

from all the others, she followed him 

with a hunter's blind devotion. Alas, 

this brought her close to Arruns who 

seized the opportunity and drew back 

his bow. But before releasing his

arrow he prayed aloud to heaven, 

'Greatest of gods, Apollo, whom we 

Tuscans honour most highly, grant all 

powerful lord that my arrow may put 

an end to the carnage this maiden is 

causing. I seek no plunder or spoil 

and nor do I wish for a trophy from 

the fallen woman as my deed alone 

will secure my fame. Let but this 

terrible fiend fall to this arrow of 

mine and I will be content with 

returning to the city of my father 

an honoured man.' 

Phoebus heard the prayer and 

vouchsafed in his heart that half the 

vow should be granted but the other 

half he scattered among the flying 

breezes. To strike and slay Camilla 

with sudden death, so much he 

granted his suppliant, but to return 

and meet the eyes of his noble father,

this he allowed not. When the arrow 

leapt eagerly from the bow it raced 

through the air and the point, with a 

sickening thwack, entered the queen's 

exposed breast through the nipple and 

drank her maiden blood. Seeing this 

her comrades ran up to support their 

fallen mistress while Arruns, more 

terrified than all, fled half in joy and 

half in fear. He was elated with his 

success but also terrified of the 

vengeance the maiden's friends 

would try to exact and so he fled 

to a distant part of the battlefield and 

tried to conceal himself among the 

massed ranks of Tuscans who were 

facing but not engaging the Latians 

who opposed them. 

Meanwhile, the dying maiden 

clutched at the arrow which 

protruded from her breast with a

loody hand and tried vainly to pull 

it from her body. But the bronze point 

had lodged deep in her chest and 

refused to budge and as the strength 

drained from her body, Camilla sank 

slowly to the ground and her once 

bright bloom fled from her face. With 

her last gasp she called Acca, who 

was her greatest friend and in whom 

she had always confided. 'Thus far, 

sister Acca,' said the queen weakly, 

'has strength been given me. But 

now this cruel wound is overcoming 

my spirit and all I see grows dim and 

dark. But hurry and carry to King 

Turnus my dying charge. Tell him to 

take my place in the battle and keep 

the Trojans from the town. But now 

farewell.' 

As the warrior maiden spoke 

these last words she closed her eyes

and her lifeless body slumped to the 

ground. However, as soon as the 

Trojans and their allies saw that 

Camilla had been vanquished, they 

raised a great shout of joy and rushed 

on their foe. 

When Opis, who had been sitting 

on a nearby mountain top watching 

the battle saw Camilla fall, she 

groaned aloud and fetched these 

words from the bottom of her heart. 

'Poor maid! The penalty you have 

paid for provoking the Trojans to 

battle is cruel indeed and it would 

have been better if you had stayed in 

the forest and served our sisterhood. 

Yet even in death your queen will 

not leave you unhonoured and nor 

shall your end be without glory in 

this world for you will not bear the 

ignominy of the unavenged.

Whosoever it was who profaned your 

person shall atone for his crime with 

the death he deserves.' 

So saying she leapt from the top 

of the mountain and glided down onto 

a vast mound of earth at its base 

which was the tomb of Dercennus, 

an old Laurentine king. From here she 

looked out over the battling armies 

and after a while spied out Arruns. 

As soon as she saw him in his 

gleaming armour and swelling with 

the vanity which, despite his fear, 

he could not contain, she cried. 'Why 

stray from the path of your destiny? 

Dian will not let her servant go 

unavenged so come hither young man 

and receive your reward for the 

slaying of Camilla.' 

So saying she drew an arrow 

from her golden quiver and bent her

ow until the barbed point touched her 

left finger and the bowstring her right 

breast. Then, letting her arrow fly, the 

goddess watched it rise gracefully up 

into the air and pass over the heads of 

the battling men before descending 

and striking Arruns, who was 

surrounded by a crowd of his 

comrades. Letting out a gasp Arruns 

clutched at the shaft which protruded 

from his breast but his comrades, for 

fear of more arrows to follow, 

promptly fled the area and left their 

friend to a solitary death. However, 

Opis, her job completed, had become 

disinterested in which side won the 

battle and so she she spread her wings 

and returned to the snowy heights of 

Olympus. 

Their mistress lost, the first to 

turn and flee were Camilla's lightly

armed chariots and then, caught up in 

the mood of panic, the Rutulians and 

Latians followed. As the panic spread 

the whole of Ausonian alliance 

turned to flee for the safety of the 

city and the Trojans found it 

impossible to keep pace with the 

thousands who threw away their arms 

and ran away before them. On the 

ramparts the people who had gathered 

to see what they could watched in 

horror as their army raced for the 

safety of the city walls and, once 

they realized that the battle had been 

lost, the matrons struck their breasts 

and raised a shriek which reached the 

heavens. 

However, as the fleeing warriors 

began to crowd around the city gates 

the crush was so great that those who 

tripped or fell to the ground were

trampled underfoot and killed by 

those who followed. Those who were 

the first to enter the city promptly 

closed the gates and refused to let 

their comrades in. Outside the gates 

however, many who had been born 

along by the deluge fell into the moat 

and many of those who fell in first 

were smothered by those who fell on 

top of them. Then, in their anger, 

those who had been shut out of the 

city brought up a battering ram and 

tried to batter down the gates whilst 

those on the ramparts, in an effort to 

stop them, began firing arrows and 

spears and so, in their fear of King 

Anaeas, the warriors of the Ausonian 

alliance began slaughtering each 

other. 

Meanwhile, on his plateau, King 

Turnus was momentarily frozen by

indecision. He had seen Camilla fall 

but by the time Acca had brought him 

her last words, the Trojans had 

already begun pushing all before them 

and it would have been folly for him 

to throw his men, rested though they 

were, into a battle which was 

already lost. He eventually decided 

that the best thing would be to march 

back to the city and protect it from 

the attackers. But scarce had he 

begun to move his men when Anaeas 

ordered the warriors of his alliance 

to cease their pursuit and re-group. 

As soon as they had formed 

themselves in battle order, he ordered 

them to march on the city and in 

consequence, the two rivals raced 

towards the city at full speed with 

only a short distance between them. 

Moreover, when the men of the

Trojan alliance saw King Turnus in 

front of them they were keen to 

attack. But the time had come when 

the sun longed to sink into the west 

and bring dark night in its train and 

so the men on both sides were obliged 

to pitch their camps and await the 

coming of the next day.

Book XII 

As soon as his men had been properly 

fed and were encamped the night King 

Turnus made his way to the palace. 

But as he walked he at last began to 

realize that the War God's enmity had 

broken the spirit of Latium and his 

men were beginning to make him the 

mark of their eyes and demand he 

fulfil his promise. At such thoughts 

his pride was deeply wounded and 

fury engulfed his spirit. As in Punic 

lands when hunters have wounded a 

lion deep in the breast and the fierce 

animal at last rouses himself to fight, 

he tosses his mane with fierce joy 

and roars from his wide open mouth 

before snapping fearlessly at the

hunters' weapons. In such a manner 

did King Turnus, once roused, 

desire nothing more than to 

continue the battle and slaughter 

every Trojan, Tuscan and Arcadian 

in the land. 

Consequently, on entering the 

presence of the King he dashed hotly 

into a speech, but one which was 

tempered by his appreciation of the 

situation. 'I, King Turnus,' he cried, 

'will not bar the way. So if the 

cowardly Trojans do not wish to 

retract their challenge or disown their 

plighted word, I will meet Anaeas 

in single combat. So bring the sacred 

things good father and solemnise the 

truce. Either I will, with my own 

hand, send the runaway from Asia 

down to Pluto's Halls or Lavinia will 

be his bride and the Latians his slaves.

So let all Latians sit and watch as I 

refute the slander of their tongues and 

protect them from an evil fate.' 

'Gallant youth,' answered the king 

in a dignified manner, 'the greater 

your impetuous valour the more 

watchful must I become and the more 

must I carefully consider the likely 

outcomes. But suffer me to give 

voice to some unwelcome words and 

I beg you to think of what I say. You 

have the kingdom given to you by 

your father Daunus and also the 

many towns you have won with your 

sword. I myself have much gold and 

a heart with which to give it and in 

this land of mine there are many 

unwedded maidens of worthy 

lineage. Fate forbade me to give my 

daughter to any of her early suitors 

but, conquered by my love for you,

our ties of kinship and also by the 

tears of my sorrowful queen, I set all 

pledges at naught and snatched my 

daughter from her plighted husband. 

I then drew the unhallowed sword and 

since that fateful day all have seen the 

troubles and wars which have been let 

loose upon my kingdom. You, of all 

people, must know the weight of the 

sufferings I must bear. We have 

twice been vanquished in battle, the 

waters of the Tiber are darkened with 

our blood, the spacious plains are 

whitened by the bones of our warriors 

and now we can scarcely protect our 

city. Whither have I drifted again and 

again? What madness has turned my 

brain? If on your death I am ready 

to welcome these new allies, why 

should I not end the strife while you 

still live and are safe? What will our

Rutulian kinsmen say? What will 

the other cities of Italy say if, may 

fortune forefend the omen, I give you 

up to death? You, a suitor for my 

alliance and my daughter's hand! 

Think of the uncertainties of war! 

Have pity on your aged sire who, 

although far away in his Ardean 

home, now bids you to accept my 

offer.' 

But at these words, the anger of 

King Turnus became fiercer and 

more virulent. In the impetuousness 

of his youth he was deeply offended 

by the attempt of a healing hand and 

so, as soon as he could find his voice 

he said. 'The care you take for my 

sake is touching but I beg you allow 

me to back my honour with my life. 

My hand can hurl a spear with no 

feeble force and my blows have sent

countless men down in death. But 

in this contest Anaeas will not have 

his goddess-mother to hide him in 

an unmanly cloud as she did Prince 

Paris and nor will Neptune once again 

rescue him from a spear that seeks a 

home in his chest.' 

But the queen, who had been 

sitting alongside her husband, was 

appalled by this new danger and burst 

into tears. She rose and wrapping her 

arms around the neck of the fiery king 

she said. 'King Turnus, by these my 

tears and by any regard you might 

cherish for me, you are now our 

only hope, our only solace in our 

forlorn old age. The honour and 

power of the king are in your hands 

because on you, its one pillar, our 

whole house leans. I ask but this, 

don't challenge the coward from Asia

ecause whatever fate awaits you in 

this unhappy combat also waits for 

me. If you die I shall also leave the 

hated light of day because I refuse to 

look upon a Trojan as my conqueror 

and son in law.' 

As Lavinia listened to the words 

of her mother her tears began to flow 

and her cheeks, like a bed of white 

lilies and red roses mixed together, 

began to redden in a deep blush. Such 

was her beauty that when Turnus 

looked at her he couldn't help but burn 

all the more with his desire for the 

contest which would make her his. 

'Let me not have tears,' he said 

looking at her mother, 'nor aught so 

ominous, dear mother, as my escort to 

the battle. I am not free to alter the 

will of destiny and so if death calls, 

I cannot refuse. Order a messenger,'

he said turning to the king, 'to take the 

Trojan despot a message which will 

like him not. As soon as the goddess 

of tomorrow's dawn shall light up 

the sky with the glow of her chariot, 

let him not send his Trojans against 

the united Ausonians. Let Trojan and 

Ausonian put down their weapons 

while the two of us decide the war 

with our lives. Let Lavinia's hand be 

decided through both life and death.' 

As soon as he finished speaking 

he turned on his heel and left the 

palace. He then went immediately to 

see his steeds for it was always his joy 

to look upon these fine animals as 

they snorted and neighed. Both were 

renowned for surpassing the snows 

in their whiteness and the wind in 

their speed. They had been given to 

Pilumnus by Orithyia as a present.

Arriving at the palace stables the 

young king found an assortment of 

charioteers all patting their horses 

with hollow palms and combing their 

maned necks and, after a quick 

greeting, he went up to his own two 

horses and patted them gently while 

nuzzling their heads and speaking 

soft words of love. 

He then gathered up his cloak 

which hung over the rails of his 

chariot and threw it over his 

shoulders. Next he picked up his 

great sword from the floor of the 

car and, making sure it hung 

comfortably, buckled it to his waist, 

. This sword was reputed to have 

been made by the Fire God's own 

hands for his own father and so he 

felt it should be a match for Anaeas' 

armour. Lastly he went to fetch his

great spear which stood against a 

mighty column in the palace hall. 

Seizing this he shook it violently 

crying. 'Now, my good spear which 

has never failed me in battle! Now is 

the time. Once wast thou cast by the 

giant Actor himself and after him by 

me; King Turnus. Grant that I may lay 

low the emasculate Trojan and after 

stripping him of his armour, grind 

into the dust those ringlets of his 

which are curled with hot irons and 

moistened with myrrh.' 

In this way, pacing up and down 

the palace hall, he raged like an angry 

bull which, in anticipation of a 

territorial fight, raises a fearful 

bellowing and calls the rage to his 

horns by butting against a tree's 

trunk and sending up showers of earth 

with his hooves.

Meanwhile, outside the city and 

with equal fierceness Anaeas, clad in 

Vulcan's armour, sharpened the edge 

of his valour by waving his weapons 

in the air and shouting words which 

were both angry and violent. When 

he had finished, he calmed the fears 

of his comrades and the terror of 

young Ascanius by speaking of 

destiny and the will of heaven. After 

this he sent the envoys back to King 

Latinus with his answer and also 

asked the king to name the conditions 

of peace. 

The next morning, as soon as 

crimson dawn had begun to sprinkle 

the mountain tops with light and lift 

the dew from the ground, detachments 

of Rutulians and Trojans went to 

work measuring out the space for the 

combat under the city's walls and

erecting altars to their common gods. 

Lighting fires on the altars they 

followed the tradition of the ancestors 

by surrounding the sacred flames with 

cups; some of which were filled with 

the finest wine while others were 

filled with pure spring water. 

The ceremonies completed the 

Ausonian army, with lifted javelins, 

came out the city gates while from 

the direction of the river came the 

Trojan alliance carrying javelins and 

the banners of their several nations. 

In the midst of both armies rode 

the chieftains on pure white horses, 

each dressed in glorious gold and 

purple. 

Menestheus, a descendent of 

Assaracus, Asilas the brave and 

Messapus, the tamer of horses and a 

progeny of Neptune were in command

of the proceedings and when the 

signal was given, they ordered both 

armies to retreat to their allocated 

areas and lay their spears on the 

ground. 

Meanwhile, on the walls, 

matrons, children and tottering old 

men crowded into every available 

space and leaned over the parapets in 

an effort to get as good a view as 

possible of the contest. 

But Juno, from the top of the 

mount now called Alban but which 

in those days had no name or glory, 

looked down on the assembled Trojan 

and Ausonian armies. At once she 

turned to King Turnus' elder sister 

who was a goddess in her own right 

and who presided over the pools and 

brawling streams; such dignity having 

been bestowed on her by the king

of heaven when he had solemnly 

made her a goddess in return for her 

violated maidenhood. 'Sweet nymph 

of the rivers,' said the Queen of 

Heaven in her sweetest voice, 'and 

favourite of my heart. You know how 

I have preferred you to all others who 

have climbed into the odious bed of 

my husband and then been given a 

seat in the sky next to me. But now 

learn from me about a sorrow for 

which I am not to blame. So long 

as Fortune seemed favourable and 

Fate allowed Latium to prosper, I 

spread my shield over your brother 

and the city of Latium. But now 

I see him engaged with a destiny 

mightier than his own and his day of 

doom is at hand. I cannot look on 

the combat, it is too much for me to 

bear. But if you have the nerve to

dare aught for your brother, you 

must do something as it is a sister's 

duty.' 

Even before Juno had finished 

Juturna had begun to cry and thrice 

she smote her lovely breast with a 

delicate hand. 

'No time for tears!' said the 

Queen of Heaven sternly, 'Quick 

and if any way there be, snatch your 

brother from death or at least revive 

the war and break up the treaty 

before it is properly ratified. 

Remember how successful Pallas 

Athene was in breaking up the treaty 

between the Achaians and Trojans?' 

With such words she left the 

undecided Juturna desperately trying 

to think of a way in which she could 

protect her brother. Juno would have 

preferred to ask Pallas Athene to

eak up the treaty because she was 

experienced in such matters but that 

was impossible. Father Jove had sent 

her to Ethiopia to watch over a 

sacred box which he had given to 

some of his favourites so they could 

escape the tyranny of a nation which 

had enslaved them. But after it had 

served them well and enabled them 

to become masters of their 

promised land, they had carelessly 

allowed it to be lost and taken to 

Ethiopia. The Father of Men and 

Gods was so furious about this that 

after sending Pallas Athene to watch 

over his box, he had sworn that he 

would scatter those ungrateful people 

across the world and deny them peace 

and a true home until such time as 

they recovered his box and made it 

once more the centre of their rituals.

But as Juturna desperately sought 

for a way to revive the war, outside 

the walls of Latium King Latinus, 

dressed in his finest robes and 

wearing the crown of kingship on his 

head, began the ceremonies by riding 

out through the city gates in his 

stately four horse chariot. King 

Turnus followed behind in his 

chariot dressed in his shining armour 

and with two bronze-tipped spears 

in his right hand. From the Trojan 

camp came King Anaeas, the founder 

of the Roman tree, with his blazing 

shield and celestial armour and at 

his side rode Ascanius, the second 

hope of a mighty Rome. When all 

had gathered together in the spot 

where the contest was to be 

decided, the high priest, in a spotless 

white robe, brought the young of a

istly boar and an unclipped sheep 

which was two years old and placed 

them by the blazing altar. The 

assembled kings, turning their eyes to 

the rising sun, scattered salted barley 

and scored the brows of the sacrificial 

animals with their knives before 

making libations from their cups. 

With spear in hand, King Anaeas 

prayed. 'Let the sun above the earth 

beneath and this land for which I have 

had the heart to endure so much 

witness my invocation. I also call on 

Jove the Almighty Sire, his goddess 

bride who is also Saturn's daughter, 

glorious Mars whose princely nod 

controls every battle, all the deities of 

the sky and purple deep and all the 

majestic springs and rivers.' Here 

he paused for a moment to catch his 

breath before continuing. 'If chance

should award the victory to King 

Turnus the Rutulian, reason claims 

that the vanquished will retire to 

Evander's town. Ascanius shall quit 

this land and never in days to come 

shall the people of Troy threaten this 

realm with war again. But should 

victory fall to me in this contest I 

will not bid any Latian, Rutulian or 

other Ausonian to be subject to Troy 

nor ask the crown for myself. No, 

our two great nations, one as 

unconquered as the other, will join 

in an everlasting federation on equal 

terms. My good father in law will 

still wield the sword and lawful 

rights of empire while we Trojans 

shall raise a city to which his 

daughter Lavinia shall give her name.' 

When he finished King Latinus 

lifted his eyes to heaven and,

stretching out his arms, he spoke. 

'Like King Anaeas I call on Land, 

Ocean and Light above, Latona's 

twofold offspring, the two faced 

Janus, the potency of the gods below 

and the shrine of relentless Pluto 

who lives in the deepest part of 

Tartarus and also the Father of All 

who ratifies the covenants of men 

with his thunder. I swear that if King 

Anaeas is victorious, no length of time 

shall break our bond of friendship. 

Let things happen as they may, no 

violence shall make me swerve in my 

will, not even if deluge and chaos 

come again and ruin the earth by 

submerging it in water and crushing 

heaven down into Tartaros.' 

With words like these both kings 

ratified the treaty while chieftains 

from both sides looked on. Then, as

tradition demanded, the priests cut 

the throats of the sacrificial victims 

and flayed the yet breathing flesh 

before piling it on the altars as a 

sacrifice to the gods. 

But the Ausonians had long been 

thinking the combat unequal. When 

they observed the Rutulian king, who 

had spent a sleepless night, with his 

wan cheeks, the pallor of his youthful 

frame, the quietness of his step and 

the almost reverential look which he 

turned upon the altar, they were 

swayed by conflicting emotions. 

However, as soon as Juturna heard the 

whispers rippling through their 

ranks, she realized their hearts were 

wavering and so, taking the form of 

Camers, who was a valiant warrior 

and great in ancestral dignity, she 

plunged in among them and scattered

sayings such as these. 'Why should 

one be expected to make a sacrifice 

for all? What will happen to us if 

King Turnus is killed? Are we not 

equal to our foes in both strength 

and numbers? See! Our whole enemy 

is seated over there. They all seek 

the life of King Turnus, but look at 

how few of them there are! If we 

were to attack them now half of us 

wouldn't even have an enemy to 

grapple with. But if we sit here and 

do nothing and King Turnus is 

killed, we will all be stripped of 

our possessions and turned into 

slaves. Some of us will even be sold 

in the far away markets of Argos or 

Thebes so the Trojans can satisfy 

their lust for gold.' 

By such sayings Juturna fanned 

the flames of discontent and gradually

the whole Ausonian alliance 

underwent a change of mood. The 

very men who had but a short while 

previously been fleeing from the 

Trojans and hoping for respite from 

war, now burned with a desire for 

battle and a treaty undone. All 

wanted to protect their prince from a 

cruel fate and it was at this point that 

the nymph gave them one thing 

more: a sign from heaven which was 

guaranteed to work on their minds 

and make them the dupes of her 

desire. In consequence, high in the 

sky, all saw a golden eagle pursuing 

a noisy multitude of winged water 

fowl. The predator then suddenly 

folded its wings and swooped down 

on a stately swan which it caught 

in its tyrant claws. Every Ausonian 

was riveted by the sight when lo!

the whole mass of birds turned about 

as one and, with a great scream, 

attacked their enemy in a dense cloud 

until, overborne by the sheer weight 

of numbers, the eagle gave way and, 

dropping its booty from its talons, it 

flew aloft and vanished into the 

distant sky. At this welcome omen 

the whole Ausonian army gave a great 

shout. Then the augur Tolumnius 

cried. 'Here! Here is the omen from 

heaven that I have prayed for so 

often and I embrace it. Seize your 

weapons, all of you, and follow me! 

The runaway from Asia who has 

treated us as feeble birds and tried to 

scare us with battle will now turn in 

flight and sail from our shores. Close 

your ranks and rally round King 

Turnus.' 

So saying he ran forward and

hurled his spear into the massed 

Trojans. A great shout rose from the 

Ausonian ranks as the men were still 

confused and unsure, but, after 

watching the spear hurtle through the 

air, they saw it strike an Arcadian 

in the chest and bring him low. His 

brothers were immediately roused to 

anger and, picking up their spears, 

they charged the Ausonians who 

faced them. At this all uncertainty 

disappeared from the minds of the 

Ausonians and they rose as one to 

meet their enemy and in moments, 

men from both sides became 

obsessed with the desire to settle the 

dispute with arms. As men from both 

armies rushed at each other with 

their weapons raised, the sky was 

darkened by the hail of arrows and 

javelins and in the confusion, the

sacred altars were uncaringly 

knocked to the ground. 

Terrified by the turn of events 

King Latinus hastily gathered up the 

divine artifacts of Latium and fled 

back to his city while behind him the 

battle began to rage. Messapus, who 

had hated the idea of a treaty from 

the very beginning, jumped into his 

chariot and charged Aulestes, a 

Tuscan king of royal bearing who, at 

the attack, quickly stepped back and 

promptly fell over the altars which 

were behind him. Up came Messapus 

and driving his spear into his 

exposed stomach, he growled. 'Your 

life is surely a more suitable offering 

for the almighty gods.' 

Other Ausonians quickly 

clustered round the still warm body of 

the fallen king and began hacking at

it with their swords and axes but then, 

as Ebusus came up to try and defend 

the corpse of his king, Ausonian 

Corynaeus met him with a burning 

brand which he had grabbed from one 

of the broken altars and dashed it in 

his face. This caused Ebusus' long 

beard to burst into flame but as he 

raised his hands to try and beat out 

the fire, Corynaeus drew his sword 

drove it into the unprotected stomach. 

Latian Podalirius rushed a group of 

Arcadians who seemed unsure of 

what to do and, swinging his axe, he 

clove the head of Alsus in twain. 

Ignoring the other Arcadians who had 

turned to flee and also the fact that the 

shepherd's spirit had already 

departed for the underworld, he kept 

hacking at the fallen corpse until he 

had chopped it into a multitude of

pieces. 

As the pandemonium began to 

spread, Anaeas, with his head still 

bare, stretched out his unarmed hands 

and shouted to his men. 'Whither 

are you driving? Why are we having 

this sudden outburst of strife? You 

must curb your passions for the truce 

has been arranged and terms agreed. 

None but I have the right to engage 

the enemy, so have done with alarm 

and give way to me for the peace 

can only be ratified by my sword and 

the death of King Turnus.' But while 

he was shouting a hurtling arrow 

came seemingly out of nowhere and 

struck him in the side. None knew 

by what hand it had been loosed and 

to this day no one knows whether 

that arrow was fired by a man or god 

because no one has ever been heard

to boast of having wounded King 

Anaeas. 

Seeing the Trojan leaders in 

confusion and Anaeas retiring from 

the battle, King Turnus' hopes rose 

in his breast and so he jumped back 

into his chariot and took up the reins. 

Lashing his horses with his whip he 

then drove at the Arcadians and began 

laying about him with his great sword. 

Many a heroic frame fell to his 

whirling blade while others he 

tumbled from their chariot and left to 

live or die under the wheels of his 

own. He did not stop but instead, with 

either his sword, his axe or the 

javelins which were stored on the 

floor of his car, he went on killing 

his enemy. 

On Olympus, when a delighted 

Mars saw this outburst of violence,

he called Terror and Strive from 

their slumbers and sent them down 

to the battlefield. He then began 

beating his shield with his spear and 

produced the kind of rhythm which 

drove the warriors on both sides into 

a frenzy of killing and while he did 

so, he watched with pleasure as King 

Turnus made an end of any wounded 

he could find by driving his chariot 

over their prostrate forms. 

Sthenelus he had already slain and 

also Thamyris and Pholus. Sthenelus 

he slew with a cast of his spear while 

Thamyris and Pholus he met hand to 

hand and killed with his sword. His 

sword also found Imbrasidae, Glaucus 

and Lades, all of whom had been 

trained in Lykia by Imbrasus their 

sire. They were warriors who could 

stand and fight or run like the wind

ut they proved no match for King 

Turnus in his fury. But just as he was 

withdrawing his sword from the body 

of Lades, King Turnus spotted 

Eumedes driving into the fray. He was 

the gallant son of Dolon, the man 

who had offered to spy out the 

Achaian camp for Prince Hector and 

had dared to ask for the chariot and 

immortal horses of Prince Achilles as 

his reward. But he had been spotted 

in the dark by Odysseus and 

Diomedes and after a great chase, he 

had been caught and although he 

pleaded for his life, Diomedes sent 

him down in death with a cut from 

his sword. When he first saw 

Eumedes King Turnus hurled his 

spear which caught him in the 

stomach and, after walking up to the 

wretch who had been laid low by his

spear and was gasping his last 

breaths, he placed his foot on the 

fallen man's chest and slowly drew 

his sword from its scabbard. Then, 

while looking his victim in the eye 

and with a cruel smile on his lips, he 

raised up his arm and said. 'Here is 

where you die Trojan so your 

remains can fertilise the land you 

came to invade. Such are the 

rewards for those who would dare 

to challenge me.' 

With a sudden movement he then 

brought down his sword and 

separated his victim's head from his 

body. After that he took another 

spear from his car and sent an 

Arcadian, who had been watching 

from what he had considered to be a 

safe distance, to join his fallen friend 

and, in quick succession, he killed five

more men of Trojan alliance. As 

when the blast of a Thracian wind 

roars across the deep Aegean and 

drives the foaming waves to the shore, 

so each time King Turnus and his 

Ausonians attacked, the ranks of his 

enemy turned to flee. But Phegeus, 

indignant at the shame of this rout, 

tried to stop King Turnus by grabbing 

the bridle of his horses. But the 

powerful pair obeyed only their driver 

and refused to stop and so, while 

Phegeus was being dragged along, 

King Turnus drove a spear into his 

unprotected back. 

But Arcadian Phegeus refused 

to let go and kept hanging on to the 

leather straps of the bridle and so 

King Turnus was forced to stop his 

car and dismount so he could cut the 

hands off the man who had been

determined to slow his progress. 

Then after leaving him on the ground 

to die a lonely death the king 

remounted his car and drove after 

the retreating invaders with two 

bodiless hands still clutching the 

bridle of his horses. 

But while King Turnus was busy 

killing, Menestheus, Achates and 

Ascanius helped Anaeas back to the 

Trojan encampment and, while the 

blood flowed from his wound, his 

halting steps spoke volumes about 

the damage that had been done. 

However, once safely in the camp 

Anaeas leant against the wall and 

after taking off his armour, vainly 

struggled to pull the arrow from his 

side. He even called on his friends 

to enlarge the entry wound so the 

barbed head could be more easily

withdrawn. All he wished to do was 

remove the arrow and get back into 

the battle. But the shaft refused to be 

withdrawn and so Ascanius was sent 

to fetch Iapis who was the son of 

Iasus, a man who was loved by 

Phoebus Apollo because not only 

was he skilled with the bow, he was 

knowledgeable in the arts of healing 

and could also make the lyre produce 

its most beautiful music. When the 

old man arrived he found Anaeas, 

who was growing weaker by the 

moment, tugging impatiently at the 

shaft while the other chieftains, all 

in tears and desperately worried 

about the state of their king, stood 

beside him. Yet when the doctor, 

his garments warped around him in 

Peon's fashion, plied his healing hand 

and all the remedies he knew,

fortune refused to guide the course 

of his medicine and the arrow 

remained stuck in Anaeas' side. 

While the old doctor worked the 

sounds of the approaching battle grew 

louder as the Trojans and their allies 

retreated before the fury of King 

Turnus. Those who looked were able 

to see the clouds of dust rising into 

the sky and also watch as some of 

the exhausted charioteers reached 

the safety of the encampment and 

threw themselves on the ground. But 

at the sight of her son's suffering 

Venus was struck to the heart and so 

flew immediately to Cretan Ida where 

she plucked some dittany, a plant 

with downy leaves and a purple 

flower which even wild goats knew 

could heal those who had an arrow 

lodged in their flesh. Then

concealing herself in a mist the 

goddess bought this flower to the 

encampment and dipped it into the 

spring water Iapis was using to wash 

the wound. As soon as the plant had 

been dipped into the water it released 

its unseen powers and also its fragrant 

odour of ambrosia and so when the 

doctor unthinkingly dipped his cloth 

in the water and began washing away 

the blood once more, in but a moment 

all pain left the frame of Anaeas, the 

blood ceased to flow and the arrow 

obeyed the doctor's hand by simply 

falling out of Anaeas' side. The 

arrow having been removed, the 

doctor, fearful of the approaching 

Ausonians couldn't help but cry: 

'Quick! Give the warrior his arms! 

Why so tardy?' 

Then looking at the wound which

was miraculously disappearing he 

said. 'No human skill has done this. It 

was not my hand which restored my 

king to health. A mightier power than 

mine is at work here and sends him 

back to mightier deeds.' 

Anaeas, as the life energies 

flowed back into his veins, became 

greedy for the fight and immediately 

began putting his armour back on. As 

soon as he was ready he clasped 

Ascanius to his breast and said, 

'Learn valour from me my son but 

success from others. Today it is my 

hand which will shield you and lead 

you through the paths of honour. But 

when you have grown into manhood, 

although you must not forget the past, 

you must look to those of your own 

blood to help you with the problems 

of the time. But when action calls,

always remember that Anaeas was 

your father and Prince Hector your 

cousin.' 

Having said this he picked up 

his shield and spear and passed out 

through the gate of the encampment 

with Antheus and Menestheus close 

behind. When those who had been 

fleeing the battle for the safety of 

the encampment saw their king, they 

immediately turned about and 

followed him. The whole plain was 

clouded by a blinding dust and the 

earth throbbed and shuddered with the 

tramp of advancing feet. But when 

King Turnus and the advancing 

Ausonians saw Anaeas back in the 

fight, a cold shudder passed through 

their vitals. First to behold the sight 

was Juturna and she shrank back in 

terror. But to the Ausonians it was as

if a storm cloud had gathered in the 

sky above them and was about to 

unleash a torrent of death and 

suffering. 

Now that the Trojan alliance had 

stopped retreating, the two armies 

faced each other and after a short 

pause in which each man prepared 

himself for the contest, the armies 

closed with a tempest of yelling 

and shouting. 

Arcadian Thymbraeus led the 

attack by cutting down the mighty 

Osiris. Menestheus then slew 

Archetius and Achates slew two of 

King Turnus' men. But there was 

victory for the Ausonians as well as 

Ufens fell to the Tolumnius, the man 

who had been the first to hurl his 

javelin and break the treaty. But as 

each man struggled to kill the one

who faced him and the din rose 

up to the sky, the Ausonians were 

eventually forced to give ground and 

fall back to the city. 

But the hero himself did not 

stoop to slaughter those who retreated 

before him as his one desire was to 

meet King Turnus face to face and end 

the conflict. In consequence, he 

tracked the bloodthirsty king through 

the ranks like a hunter, but the terror 

struck Juturna was so determined to 

prevent a meeting that she plucked 

Metiscus, King Turnus' charioteer, 

from his place and left him fallen on 

the ground while she herself, after 

assuming his shape and form, took 

command of the horses. Like a black 

swallow which flies through the 

house of some wealthy man and 

traverses the lofty hall in its quest

for scraps of food and is heard one 

moment in the empty cloisters and the 

next about the water tanks, Juturna 

always made sure that while her 

brother continued killing men, 

Anaeas never had a chance to get near 

enough to challenge him. Anaeas 

for his part, kept trying to ensure that 

their paths would cross and often, 

when he saw his foe across the 

struggling ranks, he tried by running 

to match the horse's winged speed. 

But each time Juturna flicked her 

steeds with her whip and left Anaeas 

gasping for breath and cursing his 

luck. 

What could he do? His mind 

was struggling with the problem 

when he was unexpectedly seen by 

Messapus who, with a quick and 

skilled thrust of his arm, hurled his

spear. But Anaeas saw the spear 

coming and immediately dropped on 

one knee while raising his shield 

protectively above his head. 

Nevertheless it had been a good cast 

and so the heavy spear burst through 

the Fire God's shield and, striking 

the top of Anaeas' helmet, knocked 

the fine crest to the ground. But 

when he saw that his spear had failed 

to wound Anaeas, Messapus did not 

stay to fight. Instead he retreated 

quickly back into the ranks of his men 

while Anaeas, his anger rising in his 

breast, looked around for King Turnus 

once more. He was just in time to see 

the beautifully painted chariot 

disappear towards a far flank of the 

battlefield and so, after many an 

appeal to the Father of Men and Gods 

and the altars of violated treaty, he

gave up the chase and fell on the ranks 

before him. Fanned to dreadful 

vengeance by the War God's breath, 

he let loose a cruel carnage on any 

Ausonian who was unlucky enough 

to be in his path. 

Rutulian Sucro was the first to 

taste his anger and although he was 

brave enough to stand his ground, 

after a brief clash Anaeas drove his 

sword into his chest. Meanwhile, at 

the further edges of the battle King 

Turnus spotted Amycus, who was 

lying on the ground after having 

been tossed from his chariot and 

immediately ran over him with the 

wheels of his own. This infuriated 

Amycus' brother Diores, but when he 

rushed up to try and protect his 

brother's corpse, King Turnus 

whipped his horses and, charging

forward, removed his head from his 

shoulders with a single swipe of his 

sword. Dismounting from his chariot, 

he cut off the head of Amycus with 

his axe and then tied the heads of the 

fallen brothers to the rail of his car. 

Remounting he chased after Arcadian 

Talos but before he was able to drive 

his spear through the fleeing man's 

back, the wheel of Talos' speeding 

chariot hit a rock and tossed him high 

into the air and, when he fell back to 

the ground, he saved King Turnus 

the trouble of killing him by landing 

on his head and breaking his neck. 

After that King Turnus killed four 

more men including Menoetes the 

Arcadian who was a coward and had 

tried in vain to escape the war. 

Like two fires in different 

quarters of a tinder dry forest on a

hot summer's day, the two kings, both 

with anger boiling within their 

unconquered breasts, threw their 

whole force into the death they dealt 

out. Anaeas, with a mighty rock, 

knocked Murranus from his car. 

Murranus was a man who was forever 

talking about his sires and grandsires 

and his lineage which stretched 

back through a series of Latian kings. 

But his kingly heritage failed to save 

him from Anaeas who cut off his head 

with the sword Vulcan had made. 

Moments later it was the turn of 

Cupencus who worshipped many 

gods and was always sacrificing to 

them. But his piety failed to stop the 

spear of Anaeas from sinking into his 

stomach. 

Meanwhile King Turnus faced 

Etruscan Hyllus, but as Hyllus

avely ran forward to attack, King 

Turnus hurled a javelin which 

pierced Hyllus' helmet and entered his 

brain. Without bothering to despoil 

the corpse of his victim King Turnus 

then ran after Cretheus, who was 

bravest of the Arcadians. But his 

courage could not save him from the 

black finger of death and neither was 

courage of any use to the great 

Aeolus, a man who had spread his 

fame across the Ausonian plains with 

the death he had dealt out because he 

also said goodbye to the light of day. 

In days gone by he had been one 

Trojan the Argive, Myrmidon and 

Telamonian warriors had never been 

able to defeat on the plains of Ilios 

and like Anaeas, he had even once 

managed to escape the swift footed 

Prince Achilles. But before he could

win more of the glory he desired, he 

was brought low by the spear of an 

Ausonian Achilles who was bent on 

finishing the work King Agamenmon 

had begun. 

As the day wore on and the two 

armies battled each other in the heat, 

the chieftains of both sides strained 

their every nerve and gave no quarter 

to any of the men they fought. But 

such was their ferocity of spirit, they 

asked for none in return. 

It was now that Anaeas had an 

idea which was inspired by his 

goddess mother and this was to take a 

select band of his bravest warriors 

and march straight to the walls of 

Latium. King Turnus was so busy 

causing havoc on the peripherals of 

the battlefield that he was unable to 

counter such an audacious move and

Anaeas knew that once through the 

Ausonians who faced him, there 

would be nothing to stop him reaching 

the city. At once his whole being 

was fired by the immensity of such an 

opportunity and so he immediately 

summoned Menestheus, Sergestus 

and Serestus and told them of his 

idea. 'Let nothing,' he said after 

explaining his plan, 'stay my orders 

for the hand of Jove is here. Also 

don't let anyone put up objections or 

drag their feet because this enterprise 

is unexpected. If the town of Latium, 

which is the cause of this war, does 

not submit to our arms and confess 

itself vanquished, we must topple its 

high turrets and burn every building 

to the ground this very day.' 

After pausing to let his words 

sink in, he continued. 'What? Am I

to wait until King Turnus chooses to 

face me in combat and then, once I 

have conquered him, let him run 

away so he can face me again? The 

city of Latium is the wellspring 

of this monstrous war, so let us 

reclaim the treaty with fire in our 

hands.' 

As soon as his chosen men had 

formed up alongside him in their 

chariots, he charged the Ausonians 

who faced him and, after breaking 

through their lines, made all speed 

for the city. But the Ausonians, 

instead of trying to give chase waited 

for orders from King Turnus but, 

when none were forthcoming, they 

forgot the band which had broken 

through, large though it was, and 

turned their attention back to those of 

the Trojan alliance who had stayed

ehind and were still attacking them. 

Once through the Ausonian lines 

Anaeas made all speed for the city 

and when he arrived he ordered some 

of his men to construct scaling 

ladders, some to light brands and hurl 

them over the walls and others to 

drive their chariots round to the 

several gates and slay the guards 

stationed there; a task he expected to 

be easy because his attack was so 

unexpected. 

As the attack began to gather 

momentum Anaeas stood in front of 

the city's main gates and lifted his 

hands to the sky. Then after loudly 

upbraiding the king, he called on the 

gods to witness the fact that he had 

been forced into this battle because 

the Latians and their Ausonian allies 

had twice broken their treaty with

him. 

Panic gripped many of the 

citizens and they immediately began 

calling for the gates to be opened so 

the city could be saved and some 

even tried to drag their aged monarch 

to the walls so he could surrender the 

town. However, many others grimly 

took up their weapons and prepared 

to defend their city with their lives. 

But alas, almost immediately, 

another misfortune befell the weary 

people of Latium and shook the city 

to its foundations with agony. 

When the queen, from her lofty palace 

window, had seen the Trojans 

attacking and could see no sign of 

King Turnus and his defending 

Ausonians, she deemed, poor wretch, 

that her beloved young king had been 

slain in the battle. Maddened by grief

she tore the purple raiment from her 

body with desperate hands and cried 

aloud that she alone was the cause of 

all this terrible evil. Then, in her 

anguish, she fastened to a lofty beam 

the hideous noose of death and, 

standing on an upturned water bucket 

she had fetched from a corner of her 

chamber, she placed the noose 

around her neck. After a frenzied 

prayer to the gods she gripped the 

thick rope over her head and, lifting 

herself up slightly, kicked the bucket 

from under her feet. 

However, it was at this moment 

that Alecto's terrible viper, which 

was still lodged in her breast, saw 

an opportunity for one last act of 

extreme cruelty. Just as the queen 

kicked the bucket from under her 

feet, it caused her to realize that this

was the wrong thing for her to do 

and that she should live until such 

time as she had, through guile, an 

opportunity to kill the invader and 

prevent the marriage of her daughter 

to a foreigner. At this realisation 

Terror gave Amata's hands great 

strength and she clutched desperately 

at the rope above her head and let out 

a scream for help. When no one 

came, still hanging on to the rope 

which encircled her neck, she took 

a deep breath and screamed once 

more. Alas, when the Trojans had 

attacked the city her servants had all 

fled into the streets and so there was 

no one to hear the distraught cries of 

their queen. As the queen gathered 

herself for one more breath, the 

strength began to leave her fingers 

and she felt the noose begin to tighten

around her neck and, because of the 

constriction, this time she was only 

able to half fill her lungs with air. As 

a result her next cry was pitifully low 

and hoarse and when she tried to 

breath in once more, she found her air 

passages completely blocked and, 

looking around in wild-eyed 

desperation, she saw the hooded 

figure of black Death standing 

patiently in her doorway and holding 

his dreadful scythe in his right hand. 

When he beckoned her with a bony 

finger, she was so terrified that in a 

last desperate attempt to clear the 

blockage and escape her fate, she 

wildly kicked out her feet. But this 

had no affect on her ability to breath 

and so, as her mind began to glaze 

over, she lost the power to think, her 

hands flopped to her side, her head

lolled lifelessly to one side and she at 

last became still. 

When Latium's wretched dames 

discovered the blow which had fallen, 

Lavinia was the first to tear at her 

golden hair and scratch her rosy 

cheeks with her long nails. Other 

dames ran wildly through the streets 

and filled the city with their wailing 

and as a result, Fame quickly carried 

the terrible news to every ear and 

caused every heart to sink. When the 

old king heard the news he tore his 

garments and walked around in a daze 

trying to come to terms with his 

wife's death. Then, in his despair, 

he went to his stables and after 

picking horse manure from the 

ground, he began soiling his hoary 

locks and face with the unseemly 

dirt and continually upbraided

himself for not having embraced 

Anaeas and willingly taken him for a 

son in law. 

But as these events were taking 

place in the city, King Turnus was 

plying the war on the plain outside the 

encampment and killing Trojans, 

Arcadians and Tuscans with zeal. But 

both he and his men were less buoyant 

now because the enemy which faced 

them seemed to have lost interest in 

the battle and, having formed up into 

solid defensive positions, they were 

refusing to fight. Although they 

fended off all attacks, they never 

broke ranks and nor did they follow 

up on any of the opportunities chance 

gave them. 

When an envoy brought King 

Turnus the news of Anaeas' attack 

on the city he turned to look back

towards the city but his sister, still 

in the guise of Metiscus, cried. 

'Proceed we still, my king, to 

slaughter the Trojans wherever we 

may find them. Even if some have 

broken through and are making for 

Latium, there are plenty of men to 

guard the walls. So while Anaeas is 

away, let us wreak havoc here among 

his leaderless men because the more 

you slay, the greater will be your 

fame.' 

'Sister,' Turnus answered, 'I have 

been aware of your presence for some 

time now. I first recognized your hand 

when you artfully disturbed the truce 

and flung yourself into our quarrel. 

Yet still you try to hide your goddess 

state from my eyes! But tell me, by 

whose will have you been sent from 

Olympus to cope with toils such as

these? Is it so that you may look on 

the cruel end of your hapless brother? 

For what can I do? What chance is 

there left to give me hope of safety? 

With my own eyes I saw the giant 

frame of Murranus laid low by a 

terrible wound. He was my dearest 

friend and when he called me by 

name, I did not go to his aid. Dead 

too is the ill-starred Ufens and his 

arms are now a Trojan's prize; all 

because he would not see me 

disgraced. Am I to also let the 

homes of the Latians be razed to the 

ground? Shall I turn my back and 

let this land see King Turnus in 

flight? Is death after all so bitter? 

May the powers of the grave be 

gracious to me since it seems the 

gods on Olympus are against me! 

Yes, I will go down into the nether

world a stainless spirit. None shall 

accuse me of having fled from the 

Trojan king and besides, I might even 

win the contest.' 

Scarce had he finished speaking 

when up drove Saces with an arrow 

sticking from his side. But although 

weakened by his loss of blood, he 

implored Turnus by name. 'King 

Turnus,' he cried, 'our last hope is 

in you. Have compassion on your 

men. King Anaeas is threatening to 

burn our city to the ground and even 

now his men are hurling firebrands 

on the roofs and the fires are taking 

hold. Every Latian eye now turns to 

you and the king himself mutters 

in doubt as to whom he should call his 

son in law. But there is more terrible 

news. Your fastest friend, Queen 

Amata, is dead by her own hand.

Only Messapus and Atinas are at the 

gates to hold the Trojans back, but 

they are faced by a harvest of naked 

blades while you are here, rolling your 

car over a field from which the battle 

has ebbed.' 

At this dreadful news King 

Turnus was bewildered by the 

thoughts and feelings which flooded 

through his being and for a moment 

he stood in a dull, dazed silence. 

Deep shame, grief, madness and 

frenzy all surged within him at once 

and he didn't know what to do. But 

after a few moments the shadows 

parted and light came back to his 

eyes. He looked cityward and on the 

other side of the hills he could see the 

dark cloud of smoke which told of the 

fires in the city. 'Fate is too strong 

for me, my sister,' he said looking

at Juturna. 'Too strong. Hold me 

back no longer for I must go to where 

heaven and cruel fortune are calling 

me. Yes I will meet Anaeas and 

endure the full bitterness of death. No 

more, my love, shall you see me 

disgraced. Allow me my hour of 

madness and do not try to hold me 

back.' 

Lashing his horses he called on 

his men to follow him and made all 

speed for the city. Even as from a 

mountain's top, when a rock which is 

torn free by the wind or rain comes 

crashing down the steep slope and, as 

it bounds along, knocks tall trees and 

other obstacles aside in its headlong 

dash, so King Turnus ignored all that 

was in his way as he savagely lashed 

his horses and raced to the city. When 

he arrived he waved his arms in the

air and cried with a mighty voice. 

'Have done, ye Rutulians! Have 

done, ye Latians and Ausonians! 

Hold back your spears! Whatever 

fortune brings, she brings through 

me. It is juster by far that I, in your 

place, should singly expiate the 

treaty's breach and try the issue with 

my bronze.' 

At this the men from both sides 

stepped back from the fight and left 

him a clear space in front of the city 

gates. 

When Anaeas saw King Turnus 

he hastened to meet his adversary. 

Seeing this every man on both sides 

completely forgot about the fight and 

turned to watch the two men as they 

approached each other. Even King 

Latinus was amazed to see two such 

mighty warriors, born in climes so

distant from each other, face each 

other so they could try the issue with 

their weapons. As soon as a space had 

been cleared the two contestants 

began the contest by hurling their 

spears at each other and then came 

together with a great crash. As they 

struggled, the earth groaned beneath 

their feet as chance, skill and valour 

all mingled together and each man's 

sword delivered blow upon blow. As 

when two bulls let out a great bellow 

of rage and lower their heads for 

combat while the herdsmen retreat in 

dread and the heifers all stand 

around in dumb terror and wait to see 

who is to be their monarch and, 

once their horns are locked, each bull 

twists and pushes with all its strength 

until neck and shoulders are awash 

with blood and sweat; with no less

fury Anaeas the Trojan and King 

Turnus the Rutulian clashed shield 

upon shield and, with sword in hand, 

tried with all their skill and might to 

kill their opponent. An enormous din 

filled the air and on snowy Olympus 

the Father of Men and Gods raised up 

his scales to see whom the struggle 

would doom. But just as he was doing 

so King Turnus darted forward and, 

deeming it safe, raised up his sword 

and brought it down with all his 

strength and weight combined. At 

this both Trojans and Latians let out a 

great shout because they were 

convinced the blow would kill 

Anaeas, but on meeting the bronze of 

the helmet made by Vulcan, the 

faithless sword failed its fiery lord and 

snapped in two. The king, finding 

himself unarmed immediately turned

and fled and, as he looked at the 

bladeless handle in his hand, he 

realized that in his headlong rush from 

the plain, he had left his father's great 

sword behind and snatched up 

instead the one of Metiscus, his 

charioteer. The sword had always 

done good service but as soon as it 

came into contact with the divine 

armour of Vulcan, the mortal blade, 

like brittle ice, had shattered in his 

hand and now the pieces lay 

sparkling in the dust. 

In his attempt to escape so he 

could rearm before facing Anaeas 

once more, the distraught king flew 

hither and thither in front of the city. 

But both the Trojans and Ausonians 

closed together in a circle and 

prevented him from fleeing the 

contest.

But as King Turnus was chased 

around the great circle of men by 

Anaeas, he called on his Rutulians and 

begged them to bring him his 

father's sword. But none dared to help 

as Anaeas had terrified them all by 

swearing that if any one man tried to 

help his quarry, he would kill many 

and also burn their homes to the 

ground. Pressing on he chased King 

Turnus five times around the circle 

but, when he failed to catch the fleet 

footed king, he decided that his spear 

would have to kill the man his feet 

could not catch. It chanced that there 

had stood in front of the city a wild 

olive tree which was sacred to 

Faunus and which in days of old 

had been prayed to by seamen when 

they returned from their voyages. 

But a little while earlier the

unrespecting Trojans had cut down 

the hallowed tree to use as a 

battering ram and it was in the 

remaining stump which Anaeas' 

spear had lodged when he first hurled 

it at King Turnus. But when King 

Turnus saw the Trojan chief go to 

wrench his spear from the stump, he 

prayed fervently. 'Have mercy, I 

beg thee, good Faunus, and thou, 

most gracious earth. If ever I have 

offered you a pleasing sacrifice, hold 

fast the spear of Anaeas.' 

His prayer did not go unanswered 

because no matter how hard Anaeas 

pulled on the shaft, the point 

remained embedded in the stump and 

refused to budge. But while Anaeas 

struggled with his spear the Daunian 

nymph, resuming the guise of the 

charioteer Metiscus, ran forward and

estored their father's sword to her 

brother. At this, Venus, angered by 

the liberty taken by the presumptuous 

nymph, immediately plucked 

Anaeas' spear from the depths of the 

tree stump and so both men faced up 

to each other once more. 

Meanwhile, high above, the 

Father of Men and Gods accosted 

Juno as she sat on a golden cloud 

and gazed down on the contest. 

'Where is this to end, fair spouse?' He 

asked. 'What last stroke have you in 

store to try and save your beloved 

King Turnus? You know that Anaeas 

has his place among Italy's native 

gods assured and that destiny is 

building him a ladder to the stars. 

So what vain hope keeps you seated 

on this chilly cloud? Destiny has 

decreed that King Turnus must die, so

why did you ask the beautiful Juturna 

to help her brother? Without your aid 

she would never have been able to 

give him back his lost sword and 

now he thinks he might still slay 

Anaeas. Have done with your hatred 

for the Trojans and let my prayers 

change your mind. Let that decision 

of Prince Paris cease to torment you. 

It was all a long time ago and Paris 

now inhabits the nether world, so 

don't let me hear the sounds of your 

bitterness any more. Your face is too 

lovely for such sour thoughts. 

Anyway, your limits have been 

reached. To toss the survivors of 

Troy over land and sea, to kindle an 

unhallowed war, to plunge a home 

into mourning and blend a dirge with 

the bridal song, this has been yours to 

do. But all further action I forbid.'

'I knew,' Saturn's daughter replied 

with a downcast look, 'Great Father, 

that such was your desire and so I 

have withdrawn, against my will, 

from Turnus and the earth. Otherwise 

you would not see me sitting here in 

the solitude of this, my airy palace. 

If I could I would arm myself with 

firebrands and, taking my place in 

the very front of the battle, I would 

force the Trojans into the hands of 

their enemy. As for Juturna, I 

encouraged her, I admit, to succour 

her wretched brother. But nought 

was said of aiming the shaft or 

bending the bow. Nevertheless, I 

now swear by the inexpiable fountain 

head of the Styx, the one sanction 

which binds us gods together, that I 

will quit this odious struggle.' 

'However,' she continued after

pausing to look down on the 

struggling contestants for a moment. 

'There is one favour I would ask. One 

which destiny does not forbid and 

which I ask for the sake of Latium 

and the dignity of its people. When 

the bonds of treaty shall be finally 

formed by the marriage of Anaeas and 

Lavinia, let it not be thy will that 

the native Latians should change 

their ancient name and customs and 

become Trojans. Let them not alter 

their language or their garments but 

let there be a Latium still. Let there 

be centuries of Alban kings and let 

there be a Roman stock strong in 

their sense of Italian manhood and 

let Troy remain fallen as she is in 

both name and nation alike.' 

The Father of Men and Nature 

answered with a smile. 'Ay, such are

the waves of passion which surge 

through your bosom, you are indeed 

my own sister. But come, let this 

ineffectual frenzy give way. I submit 

in willing obedience and grant you 

your wish. The Ausonians shall keep 

their native tongue and customs and 

their name shall remain as it is while 

the Trojans will leave their past 

behind and merge into the nation they 

join. After the death of King Turnus 

all shall become Latians and speak 

the Latin tongue. But the race which 

shall arise from this mixture of 

Ausonian and Trojan blood shall one 

day transcend the earth in strength 

and piety. Nor shall any nation ever 

pay you such honours as they.' 

These words turned the queen's 

abject sullenness to pleasure and, 

smiling, she nodded her assent before

quitting her lonely cloud and 

returning to feasting halls on snowcapped 

Olympus. 

Having reached an agreement 

with his sister and spouse Jove 

decided it was time to separate 

Juturna from her brother's side and so 

he immediately thought of the two 

fiends which, along with Tartarean 

Megaera, Dismal Night brought forth 

in one and the same birth and, after 

wreathing them alike with coiling 

serpents, she equipped them with 

wings. They were often to be seen 

next to the great urn in his palace in 

which he keeps the black misfortunes 

he sometimes decides to bestow on 

men when he inflicts them with 

disease and frightful death or 

besieges a guilty town with war. One 

of these fiends he sent in haste from

Olympus and bade her show Juturna 

his will. Forth flew the daughter of 

Night, swift as an arrow from Apollo's 

bow and, as soon as she saw the 

forces of Troy and the army of 

Turnus, she changed herself into the 

shape of a puny bird which often sits 

on a tombstone or lonely roof in the 

night and screams relentlessly through 

the gloom. In this disguise the fiend 

again and again flew around King 

Turnus' face and beat on his shield 

with her tiny wings. At this a chill of 

terror ran through the young king's 

frame and his hair stood shudderingly 

erect while no word could leave his 

mouth. But when Juturna saw the evil 

omen flapping around her brother's 

head she tore at her hair and 

scratched her face and then, beating 

her breast with a clenched fist, she

cried. 'What now my brother? What 

can I, your sister, do? By what 

expedient can I lengthen your span? 

Can I face a portent such as this? At 

last! At last, I quit the field. Cease to 

appal my fluttering soul, ye bird of 

Night. I recognise the flapping of your 

wings and their sound of death. Nor 

do I fail to read the will of Jove in 

your presence. But is this a just 

recompense for a lost virginity? Why 

did he give me life to last forever? 

Why did he annul the law of death? 

Ah! that I could at this moment end 

the tale of my sorrows and, hand in 

hand, travel down into the shades 

with my poor brother. Can 

immortality or aught else that I have 

to boast about give me joy without 

him? Oh that the earth beneath my 

feet would open up and send me

down in death, goddess though I am.' 

So saying she shrouded her 

head in her azure robe and, with 

many a groan, vanished beneath the 

veil of her deity. 

Anaeas, who had been unaware 

of the nymph, was shaking his 

treelike spear and calling on his terror 

struck opponent. 'Another delay?' 

He called. 'What excuse have you 

this time? Why do you hang back 

from the battle once more? Ours is 

not a contest of speed, but of stern 

hand to hand battle. Take any 

disguise you like, fly to the stars in 

your chariot or hide in the cavernous 

depths of the earth, you will not 

escape my spear.' 

But with a shake of his 

trembling head King Turnus replied. 

'I quail not at your fiery words,

insulting foe. Or your spear. It is 

Heaven which makes me quail 

because I fear that Jove has turned 

against me.' 

Saying no more he swept his 

eyes around and saw a huge rock 

which chanced to be lying on the plain 

as if it had once marked the boundary 

of some field so that no one could 

dispute its ownership. It was so large 

it would take three of today's 

strongest men to lift it on their 

shoulders, but King Turnus lifted it by 

himself and, running towards Anaeas, 

launched it at his foe. But the fiend 

had done her work and so 

somewhere deep in his psyche there 

was an emptiness which robbed him 

of his ability to follow through on 

his desire to win the contest and so the 

great rock, hurled with strength

though it was, failed to reach its 

target and crashed harmlessly onto 

the ground. Even as during the night 

when heavy slumber weighs down 

the eyes of a sleeper who, in his 

dream, vainly tries to make forward 

progress but fails helplessly because 

the desired strength is not in his 

frame, so it was with the gigantic 

King Turnus. Whatever means his 

valour tried, the fluttering fiend 

prevented each one from succeeding 

and he couldn't help but become 

confused and disorientated. Then, 

because he could no longer stop 

himself quailing before the spear of 

Anaeas, he looked from the massed 

Ausonians to his Rutulian comrades 

and also towards the city. He knew 

not how to escape or face his foe and 

nor could he see any sign of his

chariot and the sister who drove it. 

Noting his opponent's confusion 

King Anaeas took careful aim with his 

shaft and put all his weight and skill 

into the cast. The bloodthirsty spear, 

driven by its desire to kill, flew 

through the air with a swoosh and 

burst through the outermost circle of 

King Turnus' shield and after forcing 

its way through the corselet, it sank 

itself into King Turnus' thigh. The 

strike caused the young king's legs to 

collapse beneath him and he was 

laid prostrate on the ground. Up 

started the Rutulians, groaning as 

one man while King Turnus, in 

lowly suppliance, lifted up his pain 

filled eyes and an entreating hand to 

his conqueror. 'It is my due.' he cried. 

'and I ask not to be spared. So take 

what fortune has given you. But if you

can remember your father Anchises, 

have mercy on my father and let me 

live. Or else restore my breathless 

body to him undespoiled. You are 

the victor and all of Ausonia has seen 

my conquered hands outstretched. 

The royal bride is yours, so let our 

hatred be pressed no further.' 

On hearing this plea Anaeas 

checked the hand which had drawn 

his sword and was about to kill his 

prostrate foe. This pause allowed the 

suppliant words to work more and 

more on his faltering purpose and he 

was about to let King Turnus live 

when, from the waist of the fallen 

warrior, there flashed a light from 

well know jewels. The belt which had 

once been belonged to young Prince 

Pallas was now around his killer's 

waist and the moment Anaeas saw

this, he recalled the loss of his friend 

and his grief. The sparkling jewels 

rekindled his wrath into terrible 

madness. 'What!' he shouted. 'With 

the trophy taken from my friend 

around your waist, did you think you 

would escape my hand? Look me in 

the eye and know that it is Pallas who, 

with this blow, sends you down to 

Pluto's Halls and gluts his vengeance 

with your accursed blood.' 

With these words, Anaeas 

plunged his blade into the breast 

which lay before him and, as King 

Turnus' lifeless body slumped to the 

ground, his soul, resenting its lot and 

the youth it was forced to leave 

behind, flew groaningly off to the 

shades. 

---

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