The King, sore troubled by these portents, sought oracular wisdom of his sacred sire, Faunus, the fate-revealer, where the groves stretch under high Albunea, and her stream roars from its haunted well, exhaling through vast, gloomful woods its pestilential air. Here all Oenotria's tribes ask oracles in dark and doubtful days: here, when the priest has brought his gifts, and in the night so still, couched on spread fleeces of the offered flock, awaiting slumber lies, then wondrously a host of flitting shapes he sees, and hears voices that come and go: with gods he holds high converse, or in deep Avernian gloom parleys with Acheron. Thither drew near Father Latinus, seeking truth divine. Obedient to the olden rite, he slew a hundred fleecy sheep, and pillowed lay upon their outstretched skins. Straightway a voice out of the lofty forest met his prayer. “Seek not in wedlock with a Latin lord to join thy daughter, O my son and seed! Beware this purposed marriage! There shall come sons from afar, whose blood shall bear our name starward; the children of their mighty loins, as far as eve and morn enfold the seas, shall see a subject world beneath their feet submissive lie.” This admonition given Latinus hid not. But on restless wing rumor had spread it, when the men of Troy 
 along the river-bank of mounded green their fleet made fast. Aeneas and his chiefs, with fair Iulus, under spreading boughs of one great tree made resting-place, and set the banquet on. Thin loaves of altar-bread along the sward to bear their meats were laid (such was the will of Jove), and wilding fruits rose heaping high, with Ceres' gift below. Soon, all things else devoured, their hunger turned to taste the scanty bread, which they attacked with tooth and nail audacious, and consumed both round and square of that predestined leaven. “Look, how we eat our tables even!” cried Iulus, in a jest. Such was the word which bade their burdens fall. From his boy's lip the father caught this utterance of Fate, silent with wonder at the ways of Heaven; then swift he spoke: “Hail! O my destined shore, protecting deities of Ilium , hail! Here is our home, our country here! This day I publish the mysterious prophecy by Sire Anchises given: ‘My son,’ said he, ‘When hunger in strange lands shall bid devour the tables of thy banquet gone, then hope for home, though weary, and take thought to build a dwelling and a battlement.’ Behold! This was our fated hunger! This last proof will end our evil days. Up, then! For now by morning's joyful beam we will explore what men, what cities, in this region be, and, leaving ship, our several errands ply. Your gift to Jove outpour! Make thankful prayer unto Anchises' shade! To this our feast bring back the flowing wine!” Thereat he bound his forehead with green garland, calling loud upon the Genius of that place, and Earth, eldest of names divine; the Nymphs he called, and river-gods unknown; his voice invoked the night, the omen-stars through night that roll. Jove, Ida's child, and Phrygia 's fertile Queen: he called his mother from Olympian skies, and sire from Erebus. Lo, o'er his head three times unclouded Jove omnipotent in thunder spoke, and, with effulgent ray from his ethereal tract outreaching far, shook visibly the golden-gleaming air. Swift, through the concourse of the Trojans, spread news of the day at hand when they should build their destined walls. So, with rejoicing heart at such vast omen, they set forth a feast with zealous emulation, ranging well the wine-cups fair with many a garland crowned. Soon as the morrow with the lamp of dawn looked o'er the world, they took their separate ways, exploring shore and towns; here spread the pools and fountain of Numicius; here they see the river Tiber , where bold Latins dwell. Anchises' son chose out from his brave band a hundred envoys, bidding them depart to the King's sacred city, each enwreathed with Pallas' silver leaf; and gifts they bear to plead for peace and friendship at his throne. While on this errand their swift steps are sped, Aeneas, by a shallow moat and small, his future city shows, breaks ground, and girds with mound and breastwork like a camp of war the Trojans' first abode. Soon, making way to where the Latin citadel uprose, the envoys scanned the battlements, and paused beneath its wall. Outside the city gates fair youths and striplings in life's early bloom course with swift steeds, or steer through dusty cloud the whirling chariot, or stretch stout bows, or hurl the seasoned javelin, or strive in boxing-bout and foot-race: one of these made haste on horseback to the aged King, with tidings of a stranger company in foreign garb approaching. The good King bade call them to his house, and took his seat in mid-court on his high, ancestral throne. Large and majestical the castle rose: a hundred columns lifted it in air upon the city's crown—the royal keep of Picus of Laurentum; round it lay deep, gloomy woods by olden worship blest. Here kings took sceptre and the fasces proud with omens fair; the selfsame sacred place was senate-house and temple; here was found a hall for hallowed feasting, where a ram was offered up, and at long banquet-boards the nation's fathers sat in due array. Here ranged ancestral statues roughly hewn of ancient cedar-wood: King Italus; Father Sabinus, planter of the vine, a curving sickle in his sculptured hand; gray-bearded Saturn; and the double brow of Janus' head; and other sires and kings were wardens of the door, with many a chief wounded in battle for his native land. Trophies of arms in goodly order hung along the columns: chariots of war from foeman taken, axes of round blade, plumed helmets, bolts and barriers of steel from city-gates, shields, spears, and beaks of bronze from captured galleys by the conqueror torn. Here, wielding his Quirinal augur-staff, girt in scant shift, and bearing on his left the sacred oval shield, appeared enthroned Picus, breaker of horses, whom his bride, enamoured Circe, smote with golden wand, and, raining o'er him potent poison-dew, changed to a bird of pied and dappled wings. In such a temple of his gods did Sire Latinus, on hereditary throne, welcome the Trojans to his halls, and thus with brow serene gave greeting as they came: “O sons of Dardanus, think not unknown your lineage and city! Rumored far your venturous voyage has been. What seek ye here? What cause, what quest, has brought your barks and you o'er the blue waters to Ausonia's hills? What way uncharted, or wild stress of storm, or what that sailors suffer in mid-sea, unto this river bank and haven bore? Doubt not our welcome! We of Latin land are Saturn's sons, whose equitable minds, not chained by statute or compulsion, keep in freedom what the god's good custom gave. Now I bethink me our Ausonian seers have dark, dim lore that 't was this land gave birth to Dardanus, who after took his way through Phrygian Ida's towns and Samothrace . Once out of Tuscan Corythus he fared; but now in golden house among the stars he has a throne, and by his altars blest adds to the number of the gods we praise.” He spoke; Ilioneus this answer made: “O King, great heir of Faunus! No dark storm impelled us o'er the flood thy realm to find. Nor star deceived, nor strange, bewildering shore threw out of our true course; but we are come by our free choice and with deliberate aim to this thy town, though exiled forth of realms once mightiest of all the sun-god sees when moving from his utmost eastern bound. From Jove our line began; the sons of Troy 
 boast Jove to be their sire, and our true King is of Olympian seed. To thine abode Trojan Aeneas sent us. How there burst o'er Ida's vales from dread Mycenae 's kings a tempest vast, and by what stroke of doom all Asia 's world with Europe clashed in war, that lone wight hears whom earth's remotest isle has banished to the Ocean's rim, or he whose dwelling is the ample zone that burns betwixt the changeful sun-god's milder realms, far severed from the world. We are the men from war's destroying deluge safely borne over the waters wide. We only ask some low-roofed dwelling for our fathers' gods, some friendly shore, and, what to all is free, water and air. We bring no evil name upon thy people; thy renown will be but wider spread; nor of a deed so fair can grateful memory die. Ye ne'er will rue that to Ausonia's breast ye gathered Troy . I swear thee by the favored destinies of great Aeneas, by his strength of arm in friendship or in war, that many a tribe (O, scorn us not, that, bearing olive green, with suppliant words we come), that many a throne has sued us to be friends. But Fate's decree to this thy realm did guide. Here Dardanus was born; and with reiterate command this way Apollo pointed to the stream of Tiber and Numicius' haunted spring. Lo, these poor tributes from his greatness gone Aeneas sends, these relics snatched away from Ilium burning: with this golden bowl Anchises poured libation when he prayed; and these were Priam's splendor, when he gave laws to his gathered states; this sceptre his, this diadem revered, and beauteous pall, handwork of Asia 's queens.” So ceased to speak Ilioneus. But King Latinus gazed unanswering on the ground, all motionless save for his musing eyes. The broidered pall of purple, and the sceptre Priam bore, moved little on his kingly heart, which now pondered of giving to the bridal bed his daughter dear. He argues in his mind the oracle of Faunus:—might this be that destined bridegroom from an alien land, to share his throne, to get a progeny of glorious valor, which by mighty deeds should win the world for kingdom? So at last with joyful brow he spoke: “Now let the gods our purpose and their own fair promise bless! Thou hast, O Trojan, thy desire. Thy gifts I have not scorned; nor while Latinus reigns shall ye lack riches in my plenteous land, not less than Trojan store. But where is he, Aeneas' self? If he our royal love so much desire, and have such urgent mind to be our guest and friend, let him draw near, nor turn him from well-wishing looks away! My offering and pledge of peace shall be to clasp your monarch's hand. Bear back, I pray, this answer to your King: my dwelling holds a daughter, whom with husband of her blood great signs in heaven and from my father's tomb forbid to wed. A son from alien shores they prophesy for Latium 's heir, whose seed shall lift our glory to the stars divine. I am persuaded this is none but he, that man of destiny; and if my heart be no false prophet, I desire it so.” Thus having said, the sire took chosen steeds from his full herd, whereof, well-groomed and fair, three hundred stood within his ample pale. Of these to every Teucrian guest he gave a courser swift and strong, in purple clad and broidered housings gay; on every breast hung chains of gold; in golden robes arrayed, they champed the red gold curb their teeth between. For offering to Aeneas, he bade send a chariot, with chargers twain of seed ethereal, their nostrils breathing fire: the famous kind which guileful Circe bred, cheating her sire, and mixed the sun-god's team with brood-mares earthly born. The sons of Troy , such gifts and greetings from Latinus bearing, rode back in pomp his words of peace to bring.