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to Mantua so rich in noble sires,
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but of a blood diverse, a triple breed,
four stems in each; and over all enthroned
she rules her tribes: her strength is Tuscan born.
Hate of Mezentius armed against his name
five hundred men: upon their hostile prow
was Mincius in a cloak of silvery sedge,—
Lake Benacus the river's source and sire.
Last good Aulestes smites the depths below,
with forest of a hundred oars: the flood
like flowing marble foams; his Triton prow
threatens the blue waves with a trumpet-shell;
far as the hairy flanks its form is man,
but ends in fish below—the parting waves
beneath the half-brute bosom break in foam.
Such chosen chiefs in thirty galleys ploughed
the salt-wave, bringing help to Trojan arms.
Day now had left the sky. The moon benign
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had driven her night-wandering chariot
to the mid-arch of heaven. Aeneas sate,
for thought and care allowed him no repose,
holding the helm and tending his own sails.
but, as he sped, behold, the beauteous train,
lately his own, of nymphs, anon transformed
by kind Cybebe to sea-ruling powers.
In even ranks they swam the cloven wave,—
nymphs now, but once as brazen galleys moored
along the sandy shore. With joy they knew
their King from far, and with attending train
around him drew. Cymodocea then,
best skilled in mortal speech, sped close behind,
with her right hand upon the stern, uprose
breast-high, and with her left hand deeply plied
the silent stream, as to the wondering King
she called: “So late on watch, O son of Heaven,
Aeneas? Slack thy sail, but still watch on!
We were the pine-trees on the holy top
of Ida's mountain. Sea-nymphs now are we,
and thine own fleet. When, as we fled, the flames
rained o'er us from the false Rutulian's hand
