But we, descended from your sacred line, Entitled to your heav’n and rites divine, Are banish’d earth; and, for the wrath of one, Remov’d from Latium and the promis’d throne.
A wand’ring woman builds, within our state, A little town, bought at an easy rate; She pays me homage, and my grants allow A narrow space of Libyan lands to plow; Yet, scorning me, by passion blindly led, Admits a banish’d Trojan to her bed!
Then dire debate and impious war shall cease, And the stern age be soften’d into peace: Then banish’d Faith shall once again return, And Vestal fires in hallow’d temples burn; And Remus with Quirinus shall sustain The righteous laws, and fraud and force restrain.
Now cast by fortune on this kindred land, What should our rest and rising walls withstand, Or hinder here to fix our banish’d band?
Then Saturn came, who fled the pow’r of Jove, Robb’d of his realms, and banish’d from above.
There, Porsena to Rome proud Tarquin brings, And would by force restore the banish’d kings.
Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore, And in the doubtful war, before he won The Latian realm, and built the destin’d town; His banish’d gods restor’d to rites divine, And settled sure succession in his line, From whence the race of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome.
Who thro’ the foes hast borne thy banish’d gods, Restor’d them to their hearths, and old abodes; This is thy happy home, the clime where fate Ordains thee to restore the Trojan state.
’T is now my bitter banishment I feel: This is a wound too deep for time to heal.
"Relate at large, my godlike guest," she said, "The Grecian stratagems, the town betray’d: The fatal issue of so long a war, Your flight, your wand’rings, and your woes, declare; For, since on ev’ry sea, on ev’ry coast, Your men have been distress’d, your navy toss’d, Sev’n times the sun has either tropic view’d, The winter banish’d, and the spring renew’d."
A second siege my banish’d issue fears, And a new Diomede in arms appears.
A banish’d band, Driv’n with Evander from th’ Arcadian land, Have planted here, and plac’d on high their walls; Their town the founder Pallanteum calls, Deriv’d from Pallas, his great-grandsire’s name: But the fierce Latians old possession claim, With war infesting the new colony.
From that dire deluge, thro’ the wat’ry waste, Such length of years, such various perils past, At last escap’d, to Latium we repair, To beg what you without your want may spare: The common water, and the common air; Sheds which ourselves will build, and mean abodes, Fit to receive and serve our banish’d gods.
The gods have envied me the sweets of life, My much lov’d country, and my more lov’d wife: Banish’d from both, I mourn; while in the sky, Transform’d to birds, my lost companions fly: Hov’ring about the coasts, they make their moan, And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own.
This would I celebrate with annual games, With gifts on altars pil’d, and holy flames, Tho’ banish’d to Gaetulia’s barren sands, Caught on the Grecian seas, or hostile lands: But since this happy storm our fleet has driv’n (Not, as I deem, without the will of Heav’n) Upon these friendly shores and flow’ry plains, Which hide Anchises and his blest remains, Let us with joy perform his honors due, And pray for prosp’rous winds, our voyage to renew; Pray, that in towns and temples of ourů
Then Venulus to Diomede they send, To beg his aid Ausonia to defend, Declare the common danger, and inform The Grecian leader of the growing storm: Aeneas, landed on the Latian coast, With banish’d gods, and with a baffled host, Yet now aspir’d to conquest of the state, And claim’d a title from the gods and fate; What num’rous nations in his quarrel came, And how they spread his formidable name.