400
In folded gown, in e'en such wise as Paeon erst was dight,
With hurrying hand speeds many a salve of Phoebus' herbs of might;
But all in vain: his right hand woos the arrow-head in vain;
For nought the teeth of pincers grip the iron of the bane;
No happy road will Fortune show, no help Apollo yields:
And grimly terror more and more prevaileth o'er the fields,
And nigher draws the evil hour: they see the dusty pall
Spread o'er the heaven; draw horsemen nigh, and shafts begin to fall
Thick in the midmost of the camp: grim clamour smites the stars,
The shouts of men, the cries of men that fall in game of Mars. 410

Now Mother Venus, sore at heart for her sore-wounded son,
Plucketh a stalk of dittany from Cretan Ida won,
That with a downy leaf of grey and purple head doth grow,
And well enough the mountain-goats the herbage of it know
What time the winged shaft of man within them clingeth sore.
This Venus brought, with cloudy cloak her body covered o'er,
This in the waves of glittering rims she steepeth privily,
Drugging the cup, and wholesome juice withal there blendeth she,
Wrought of ambrosia; heal-all too most sweet of heavenly smell.
So with that stream Iapis old the shaft-wound cherished well 420
Unwitting: sudden from the flesh all grievance doth depart,
And all the blood is staunched at once up from the wound's deep heart,
And comes the shaft unto the hand with nought to force it forth,
And freshly to the king returns his ancient might and worth.
Then cries Iapis:
"Loiter ye? arms for the hero then!"
And he is first against the foe to whet the hearts of men.
"Lo, not from any help of man, nor from art's mastery
These things have happed, nor hath mine hand, AEneas, holpen thee.
A great God wrought to send thee back great deeds of fame to win."

Then, fain of fight, on either side the king his legs shuts in 430
With ruddy gold: he loathes delay, and high his war-shaft shakes;
And then his left side meets the shield, his back the hauberk takes,
And round Iulus casteth he a steel-clad man's embrace,
And saith, but lightly kissing him from midst the helmet's space:

"Child, the bare valour learn of me and very earthly toil,
Good-hap of others; my right hand shall ward thee in the broil
These days that are, and gain