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Richard Stanyhurst's Aeneis

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Or that of oure troubles you would to the' fummarye listen, 380 Thee night thee funbeams would fhrowd in clafped Olympus. Wee coom from Troytowne (of Troy feat yf haplye the rumoure Youre ears hath tinckled) late a tempest boyfterusjhaggard Oure fhips to Libye land with rough extremitye tilted. I am kind Mnects, from foes thee fnatcher of houfgods 385 Stowd in my veffels: in fkyes my gloryejdoth harboure. Land I feek Italian: from loue my pettegrye buddeth. I made from Troytowne with veffels twentye to feaward, My dam myghtye Godeffe gyding, I my deftenye tracked. Rockt with foure bluftring jeaun fhips ar fcantlye recoouerd 390 i" lyke a poore pilgrim throgh defert angle of Affrick Wander, thruft from Afian regions and fortunat Europ.

Heere Venus embarring his tale thus fweetlye replyed. What wight thwart, doubtleffe thee gods al greatlye doe tender Thy ftate, neere Tyrian citty jo lucklye to iumble. 395 Hence take thy paffadge, to the Queenes court princelye be trudging. Theare thy coompanions with battred nauye be landed, With flaws crufht ruffling, with north blaft canuafed hurring. Thus ftand thy recknings, vnleffe me myn augurye fayleth. Marck loa, fe wel yoonder fwans twelue in coompany flu/3hing 400 And the fkytip percing, enchast with a murtherus eagel Swift doe fle too landward, on ground al preft to be feazed. As theefe birds feazed, theyre wyngs with iolitye flapping, Sweepe the fkye, with gladnes theyre creaking harmonye gagling, Eunfo thye companions, or now with faulftye be fhoared, 405 Or, voyd of al danger, theyre fhips are grafypled at anchor.

Speedelye bee packing, keep on hardlye the playne beaten highway.

This jayd fhee turned with rofe color heaunlye beglittred. Her locks lyke Nectar perfumes fweet melloe relinquifht. Her trayne fyd flagging lyke wyde fpread Conopye trayled. 410 Her whifk fhewd Deity, hee finding his moother, in anger Chauffing; thee fugitiue with theefe woords fharplye reprooued.

What do ye meane (moother) with an elf f how, vaynelye thus often Youre foon too iuggle? why oure hands both clafpe we not hardly? Why do we not playnely good fpeeches mutual vtter? 415 Tward citty trauayling thus he blames her forgerye mafked. But Venus enfhrowds theym with a thick fog palpabil ayrye, Vnfeen of eeche perfon by fleight inuifibil armed: Leaft foom theyre paffadge with curius article hyndring Would learne, whence they trauayld? Too what coaft ar they repayring? 420 Shee to her loftye Paphos with gladneffe myrrye returneth:

Wheare ftands her temple with an hundred confecrat altars; '