ing duly burnt, they repair to the royal
palace, and reclining on lofty couches, with flowing wine, they take the
gifts of Ceres. Then the pious Anchises {says}, "O chosen priest of
Phoebus, am I deceived? or didst thou not have a son, also, when first I
beheld these walls, and twice two daughters, so far as I remember?" To
him Anius replies, shaking his temples wreathed with snow-white fillets,
and says, "Thou art not mistaken, greatest hero; thou didst see me the
parent of five children, whom now (so great a vicissitude of fortune
affects mankind) thou seest almost bereft {of all}. For what assistance
is my absent son to me, whom Andros, a land {so} called after his name,
possesses, holding that place and kingdom on behalf of his father?

"The Delian {God} granted him {the art of} augury; to my female progeny
Liber gave other gifts, exceeding {both} wishes and belief. For, at the
touch of my daughters, all things were transformed into corn, and the
stream of wine, and the berry of Minerva; and in these were there rich
advantages. When the son of Atreus, the destroyer of Troy, learned this
(that thou mayst not suppose that we, too, did not in some degree feel
your storms) using the force of arms, he dragged them reluctantly from
the bosom of their father, and commanded them to feed, with their
heavenly gifts, the Argive fleet. Whither each of them could, they made
their escape. Euboea was sought by two; and by as many of my daughters,
was Andros, their brother's {island}, sought. The forces came, and
threatened war if they were not given up. Natural affection, subdued by
fear, surrendered to punishment those kindred breasts; and, that thou
mayst be able to forgive a timid brother, there was no AEneas, no Hector
to defend Andros, through whom you {Trojans} held out to the tenth year.
And now chains were being provided for their captive arms. Lifting up
towards heaven their arms still free, they said, 'Father Bacchus, give
us thy aid!' and the author of their gift did give them aid; if
destroying them, in a wondrous manner, be called giving aid. By what
means they lost their shape, neither could I learn, nor can I now tell.
The sum of their calamity is known {to me}: they assumed wings, and were
changed into birds of thy consort,[60] the snow-white doves."

With such and other discourse, after they have passed the {time of}
feasting, the table being removed, they seek sleep. And they rise with
the day, and repair to the