He spoke, and swiftlier than his word subdued the swelling of the floods; dispersed afar th' assembled clouds, and brought back light to heaven. Cymothoe then and Triton, with huge toil, thrust down the vessels from the sharp-edged reef; while, with the trident, the great god's own hand assists the task; then, from the sand-strewn shore out-ebbing far, he calms the whole wide sea, and glides light-wheeled along the crested foam. As when, with not unwonted tumult, roars in some vast city a rebellious mob, and base-born passions in its bosom burn, till rocks and blazing torches fill the air (rage never lacks for arms)—if haply then some wise man comes, whose reverend looks attest a life to duty given, swift silence falls; all ears are turned attentive; and he sways with clear and soothing speech the people's will. So ceased the sea's uproar, when its grave Sire looked o'er th' expanse, and, riding on in light, flung free rein to his winged obedient car. Aeneas' wave-worn crew now landward made, and took the nearest passage, whither lay the coast of Libya . A haven there walled in by bold sides of a rocky isle, offers a spacious and secure retreat, where every billow from the distant main breaks, and in many a rippling curve retires. Huge crags and two confronted promontories frown heaven-high, beneath whose brows outspread the silent, sheltered waters; on the heights the bright and glimmering foliage seems to show a woodland amphitheatre; and yet higher rises a straight-stemmed grove of dense, dark shade. Fronting on these a grotto may be seen, o'erhung by steep cliffs; from its inmost wall clear springs gush out; and shelving seats it has of unhewn stone, a place the wood-nymphs love. In such a port, a weary ship rides free of weight of firm-fluked anchor or strong chain. Hither Aeneas of his scattered fleet saving but seven, into harbor sailed; with passionate longing for the touch of land, forth leap the Trojans to the welcome shore, and fling their dripping limbs along the ground. Then good Achates smote a flinty stone, secured a flashing spark, heaped on light leaves, and with dry branches nursed the mounting flame. Then Ceres' gift from the corrupting sea they bring away; and wearied utterly ply Ceres' cunning on the rescued corn, and parch in flames, and mill 'twixt two smooth stones. Aeneas meanwhile climbed the cliffs, and searched the wide sea-prospect; haply Antheus there, storm-buffeted, might sail within his ken, with biremes, and his Phrygian mariners, or Capys or Caicus armor-clad, upon a towering deck. No ship is seen; but while he looks, three stags along the shore come straying by, and close behind them comes the whole herd, browsing through the lowland vale in one long line. Aeneas stopped and seized his bow and swift-winged arrows, which his friend, trusty Achates, close beside him bore. His first shafts brought to earth the lordly heads of the high-antlered chiefs; his next assailed the general herd, and drove them one and all in panic through the leafy wood, nor ceased the victory of his bow, till on the ground lay seven huge forms, one gift for every ship. Then back to shore he sped, and to his friends distributed the spoil, with that rare wine which good Acestes while in Sicily 
 had stored in jars, and prince-like sent away with his Ioved guest;—this too Aeneas gave; and with these words their mournful mood consoled. “Companions mine, we have not failed to feel calamity till now. O, ye have borne far heavier sorrow: Jove will make an end also of this. Ye sailed a course hard by infuriate Scylla's howling cliffs and caves. Ye knew the Cyclops' crags. Lift up your hearts! No more complaint and fear! It well may be some happier hour will find this memory fair. Through chance and change and hazard without end, our goal is Latium ; where our destinies beckon to blest abodes, and have ordained that Troy shall rise new-born! Have patience all! And bide expectantly that golden day.” Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care, feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore, and locked within his heart a hero's pain. Now round the welcome trophies of his chase they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives, and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale, place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires. Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green, they rally their lost powers, and feast them well on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game. But hunger banished and the banquet done, in long discourse of their lost mates they tell, 'twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows whether the lost ones live, or strive with death, or heed no more whatever voice may call? Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends, Orontes brave and fallen Amycus, or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom of bold young Gyas and Cloanthus bold.