known,
His trusty follower through the paths of Fate.
Here dwells a soul that dares the light disown,
And counteth life well sold, to purchase such renown."

XXVII. "For _thee_ I feared not," Nisus made reply,
"'Twere shame, indeed, to doubt a friend so tried.
So may great Jove, or whosoe'er on high
With equal eyes this exploit shall decide,
Restore me soon in triumph to thy side.
But if--for divers hazards underlie
So bold a venture--evil chance betide,
Or angry deity my hopes bely,
Thee Heaven preserve, whose youth far less deserves to die.

XXVIII. "Mine be a friend to lay me, if I fall,
Rescued or ransomed, in my native ground;
Or, if hard fortune grudge a boon so small,
To make fit honour to my shade redound,
And o'er the lost one rear an empty mound.
Ne'er let a childless mother owe to me
A pang so keen, and such a cureless wound.
She, who, alone of mothers, dared for thee
Acestes' walls to leave, and braved the stormy sea."

XXIX. "My purpose holds and shifts not," he replies,
"These empty pretexts cannot shake me--no.
Hence, let us haste." And to the guard he cries,
Who straight march up, and forth the two friends go
To find the chief. All creatures else below
Lay wrapt in sleep, forgetting toil and care;
But sleepless still, in presence of the foe,
Troy's chosen chiefs urge council, what to dare,
Whom to AEneas send, the desperate news to bear.

XXX. There, in the middle of the camp and plain,
Each shield in hand, and leaning on his spear,
They stand; when lo! in eager haste the twain,
Craving an audience instantly, appear.
High matter theirs, and worth a pause to hear.
Then first Iulus greets the breathless pair,
And calls to Nisus. "Dardans, lend an ear,"
Outspake the son of Hyrtacus, "Be fair,
Nor rate by youthful years the proffered aid we bear.

XXXI. "See, hushed with wine and slumber, lies the foe.
Where by the sea-gate, parts the road in twain,
A stealthy passage from the camp we know.
Black roll the smoke-clouds, and the watch-fires wane.
Leave us to try our fortune, soon again
Yourselves shall see, from Pallanteum's town,
AEneas, rich with trophies of the slain.
Plain lies the path, for oft the chase hath shown
From darksome vales the town, and all the stream is known."

XXXII. "O Gods!" exclaimed Aletes, wise and old,
"Not yet ye me