Of curious work, where on the sides were seen
The fights and figures of illustrious men,
From their first founder to the present queen.
The good Aeneas, paternal care
Iulus’ absence could no longer bear,
Dispatch’d Achates to the ships in haste,
To give a glad relation of the past,
And, fraught with precious gifts, to bring the boy,
Snatch’d from the ruins of unhappy Troy:
A robe of tissue, stiff with golden wire;
An upper vest, once Helen’s rich attire,
From Argos by the fam’d adultress brought,
With golden flow’rs and winding foliage wrought,
Her mother Leda’s present, when she came
To ruin Troy and set the world on flame;
The scepter Priam’s eldest daughter bore,
Her orient necklace, and the crown she wore
Of double texture, glorious to behold,
One order set with gems, and one with gold.
Instructed thus, the wise Achates goes,
And in his diligence his duty shows.
But Venus, anxious for her son’s affairs,
New counsels tries, and new designs prepares:
That Cupid should assume the shape and face
Of sweet Ascanius, and the sprightly grace;
Should bring the presents, in her nephew’s stead,
And in Eliza’s veins the gentle poison shed:
For much she fear’d the Tyrians, double-tongued,
And knew the town to Juno’s care belong’d.
These thoughts by night her golden slumbers broke,
And thus alarm’d, to winged Love she spoke:
“My son, my strength, whose mighty pow’r alone
Controls the Thund’rer on his awful throne,
To thee thy much-afflicted mother flies,
And on thy succor and thy faith relies.
Thou know’st, my son, how Jove’s revengeful wife,
By force and fraud, attempts thy brother’s life;
And often hast thou mourn’d with me his pains.
Him Dido now with blandishment detains;
But I suspect the town where Juno reigns.
For this ’tis needful to prevent her art,
And fire with love the proud Phoenician’s heart:
A love so violent, so strong, so sure,
As neither age can change, nor art can cure.
How this may be perform’d, now take my mind:
Ascanius by his father is design’d
To come, with presents laden, from the port,
To gratify the queen, and gain the court.
I mean to plunge the boy in pleasing sleep,
And, ravish’d, in Idalian bow’rs to keep,
