"Who knows not Troy, th' AEneian house of fame, The deeds and doers, and the war's renown That fired the world?
Not hearts so dull and tame Have Punic folk; not so is Phoebus known To turn his back upon our Tyrian town.
Whether ye sail to great Hesperia's shore And Saturn's fields, or seek the realms that own Acestes' sway, where Eryx reigned of yore, Safe will I send you hence, and speed you with my store.
LXXVI.

"Else, would ye settle in this realm, the town I build is yours; draw up your ships to land.
Trojan and Tyrian will I treat as one.
Would that your king AEneas here could stand, Driven by the gale that drove you to this strand! Natheless, to scour the country, will I send Some trusty messengers, with strict command To search through Libya to the furthest end, Lest, cast ashore, through town or lonely wood he wend." LXXVII.

Roused by these words, long since the sire of Troy Yearned, like his friend, their comrades to surprise And burst the cloud.

Then first with eager joy "O Goddess-born," the bold Achates cries, "How now--what purpose doth thy mind devise?
Lo! all are safe--ships, comrades brought again; One only fails us, who before our eyes Sank in the midst of the engulfing main.
All else confirms the tale thy mother told thee plain." LXXVIII.

Scarce had he said, when straight the ambient cloud Broke open, melting into day's clear light, And bathed in sunshine stood the chief, endowed With shape and features most divinely bright.
For graceful tresses and the purple light Of youth did Venus in her child unfold, And sprightly lustre breathed upon his sight, Beauteous as ivory, or when artists mould Silver or Parian stone, enchased in yellow gold.
LXXIX.