Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/64

 and endeavouring to surprise by a living passion affections long torpid, and a heart long unused to love.

When the banquet's first lull was come, and the board removed, then they set up the huge bowls and wreathe the wine. A din rings to the roof—the voice rolls through    5 those spacious halls; lamps[o] hang from the gilded ceiling, burning brightly, and flambeau-fires put out the night. Then the queen called for a cup, heavy with jewels and gold, and filled it with unmixed wine; the same which had been used by Belus, and every king from Belus downward. 10 Then silence was commanded through the hall. "Jupiter, for thou hast the name of lawgiver for guest and host, grant that this day may be auspicious alike for the Tyrians and the voyagers from Troy, and that its memory may long live among our posterity. Be with us, Bacchus,[o]  15 the giver of jollity, and Juno, the queen of our blessings; and you, the lords of Tyre, may your goodwill grace this meeting." She said, and poured on the table an offering of the wine, and, the libation made, touched the cup first with her lips,[o] then handed it to Bitias, rallying his  20 slowness. Eagerly he quaffed the foaming goblet, and drenched himself deep with its brimming gold. Then came the other lords in order. Iopas, the long-haired bard, takes his gilded lyre, and fills the hall with music; he, whose teacher was the mighty Atlas.[o] His song[o] is of  25 the wanderings of the moon and the agonies of the sun, whence sprung man's race and the cattle, whence rainwater and fire; of Arcturus and the showery Hyades, and the twin Bears; why the winter suns make such haste to dip in ocean, or what is the retarding cause that  30 bids the nights move slowly. Plaudits redouble from the Tyrians, and the Trojans follow the lead. With varied talk, too, she kept lengthening out the night, unhappy Dido, drinking draughts of love long and deep, as she asked much about Priam, about Hector much;  35 now what were the arms in which Aurora's son had come to battle; now what Diomede's steeds were like; now how great was Achilles. "Or rather, gentle guest," cries she,