the tomb at its base, leaving the altars where its mouth had been. Quickened by this, the hero resumes the work of homage to his sire, not knowing whether to think this the genius of the spot or his father's menial spirit: duly he slays two young sheep, two swine, two black-skinned 5 bullocks; again and again he pours goblets of wine, again and again he calls on the soul of great Anchises and the shade loosed from Acheron's[o] prison. His comrades, too, each according to his means, give glad offerings—they pile the altars, they slay the bullocks; others in their function 10 set on the cauldrons, and, stretched along the grass, hold the spits over the embers and roast the flesh.
And now the expected day was come; the steeds of Phaethon[o] were ushering in the goddess of the ninth dawn through a heaven of clear light; the rumoured spectacle 15 and the great name of Acestes had brought the neighbouring people from their homes; the holiday crowd was flooding the shore, to gaze on the family of Æneas, and some, too, ready to dispute the prizes. First, in sight of all, the gifts are bestowed in the midst of the ring—hallowed 20 tripods and verdant chaplets, and palms, the conquerors' special guerdon—armour and raiment of purple dye—a talent's[o] weight of silver and gold; and from a mound in the centre the shrill trumpet proclaims the sports begun. The first contest, waged with labouring 25 oars, is entered by four ships, the flower of the entire fleet. There is Mnestheus, with his fiery crew, speeding along the swift Shark—Mnestheus, hereafter a prince of Italy, who gives his name to the Memmian line; there is Gyas with his monster Chimæra, that monster mass[1] 30 which three tiers of stout Dardans are pulling on, the oars rising in a triple bank; Sergestus, from whom the Sergian house gains the name it keeps, sails in the mighty Centaur; and in the sea-green Scylla Cloanthus, your great forefather, Cluentius of Rome. 35]
- ↑ A caret in the Ms. notes the omission of Urbis opus: "A city in itself."—[E. S. S.
