"Welcome, then, heroes! Me hath Fortune willed Long tost, like you, through sufferings, here to rest And find at length a refuge.

Not unskilled In woe, I learn to succour the distrest." So to the palace she escorts her guest, And calls for festal honours in the shrine.
Then shoreward sends beeves twenty to the rest, A hundred boars, of broad and bristly chine, A hundred lambs and ewes and gladdening gifts of wine.
LXXXIV.

Meanwhile with regal splendour they arrayed The palace-hall, where feast and banquet high All in the centre of the space is laid, And forth they bring the broidered tapestry, With purple dyed and wrought full cunningly.
The tables groan with silver; there are told The deeds of prowess for the gazer's eye, A long, long series, of their sires of old, Traced from the nation's birth, and graven in the gold.
LXXXV.

But good AEneas--for a father's care No rest allows him--to the ships sends down Achates, to Ascanius charged to bear The welcome news, and bring him to the town.
The father's fondness centres on the son.
Rich presents, too, he sends for, saved of old From Troy, a veil, whose saffron edges shone Fringed with acanthus, glorious to behold, A broidered mantle, stiff with figures wrought in gold.
LXXXVI.

Fair Helen's ornaments, from Argos brought, The gift of Leda, when the Trojan shore And lawless nuptials o'er the waves she sought.
Therewith the royal sceptre, which of yore Ilione, Priam's eldest daughter, bore; Her shining necklace, strung with costly beads, And diadem, rimmed with gold and studded o'er With sparkling gems.