Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/197

 nay, scorn us not for that we accost you with fillets of suppliance and words of prayer—who have sued for our company and wished to make us one with them. But the oracles of heaven, speaking as they only can, have driven us to search out your realms. Hence sprang Dardanus;               5 hither Apollo bids us return, with the instance of high command, even to Tuscan Tiber and the sacred waters of Numicius' spring. Moreover, here are presents from Æneas, the scanty offerings of past prosperity, relics snatched from the flames of Troy. From this gold his father, Anchises,           10 poured libations at the altar; this was Priam's royal accoutrement, when he gave laws in kingly fashion to the assembled people; this sceptre, this sacred diadem, these robes, the work of Trojan dames."

Thus, as Ilioneus is speaking, Latinus holds his countenance      15 in set downcast gaze, and sits rooted to his throne, turning his eyes in intense thought. Nor does the broidered purple stir his princely mind; no, nor the sceptre of Priam, so deeply as he ponders on the wedlock, the bridal bed of his daughter, revolving in his breast old           20 Faunus' oracle. This must be that predicted son-in-law, arrived from a foreign home, destined to reign in joint sovereignty with himself; thence must be born that glorious progeny, whose prowess is to master the world. At length he breaks out in glad tones: "May the gods prosper         25 our intent and ratify their own presage! Yes, Trojan, you shall have your prayer, nor do I reject your presents. Long as Latinus shall reign, you shall not lack the bounty of a fruitful soil, nor miss the wealth of Troy. Let but Æneas himself, if his desire of us is so great, if he covets the tie of   30 hospitality and the style of alliance, come to our presence, nor shrink from eyes that will view him kindly. Peace will be incomplete till I have touched your monarch's hand. And now do you take back to your king this my message: I have a daughter, whose marriage with a husband            35 of our nation is forbidden by voices from my father's shrine, by countless prodigies from heaven; sons-in-law are to arrive from foreign climes—such, they say, is