ent hate. Few with his boldness pleas'd;
"Far most my friends his daring speech condemn.
"Aiming at words respondent, straight his voice
"And throat are narrow'd; into plumes his hair
"Is alter'd; plumes o'er his new neck are spread;
"And o'er his chest, and back; his arms receive
"Long pinions, bending into light-form'd wings;
"Most of his feet is cleft in claws; his mouth
"Hardens to horn, and in a sharp beak ends.
"Lycus, Rhetenor, Nycteus, Abas, stare
With wonder, and while wondering there they stand
"The same appearance take; and far the most
"Of all my troop on wings up fly: and round
"The ship the air resounds with clapping wings.
"If what new shape those birds so sudden form'd
"Distinguish'd, you would know: swans not to be,
"Nought could the snowy swan resemble more.
"Son now to Daunus, my diminish'd host
"Scarce guards this kingdom, and those barren fields."

Thus far Diomedes; and Venulus
Th' Apulian kingdom left, Calabria's gulf
Pass'd, and Messapia's plains, where he beheld
Caverns with woods deep shaded, with light rills
Cool water'd: here the goatish Pan now dwelt;
Once tenanted by wood-nymphs. From the spot
Them, Appulus, a shepherd drove to flight;
Alarm'd at first by sudden dread, but soon,
Resum'd their courage, his pursuit despis'd,
They to the measur'd notes their agile feet
Mov'd in the dance. The clown insults them more,
Mimics their motions in his boorish steps,
To coarse abusing adding speech obscene:
Nor ceas'd his tongue 'till bury'd in a tree.
Well may his manner from the fruit be known;
For the wild olive marks his tongue's reproach,
In berries most austere: to them transferr'd
The rough ungrateful sharpness of his words.

Return'd the legates, and the message told,
Th' Etolians' aid deny'd; without their help
Wage the Rutilians now the ready war:
And streams of blood from either army flow.
Lo! Turnus comes, and greedy torches brings
To fire the cover'd ships; the flames they fear
Whom tempests spar'd. And now the fire consum'd
The pitch, the wax, with all that flame could feed;
Then, mounting up the lofty mast, assail'd
The canvas; and the rowers' benches smok'd.
This saw the sacred mother of the gods,
And mindful that from Ida's lofty top
The pines were hew'd, with clash of tinkling brass,
And sounds of hollow box, fill'd all the air.
Then borne through ether by her lio