1 I seek Italy my country, my kin of Jove's supreme blood.
2 An icy shudder shakes my limbs, and my blood curdles chill with terror.
3 Troy bore me; not alien to thee am I, nor this blood that oozes from the stem.
4 In Sicilian territory too is tilth and town, and famed Acestes himself of Trojan blood.
5 As at last he issued before his parents' eyes and faces, he fell, and shed his life in a pool of blood.
6 ""Ah, you," he cries, "whose blood is at the prime, whose strength stands firm in native vigour, do you take your flight."
7 For from the first tree whose roots are rent away and broken from the ground, drops of black blood trickle, and gore stains the earth.
8 Nor do Teucrians alone pay forfeit of their blood; once and again valour returns even in conquered hearts, and the victorious Grecians fall.
9 Yet from another I go on again to tear away a tough shoot, fully to fathom its secret; yet from another black blood follows out of the bark.
10 We offer bubbling bowls of warm milk and cups of consecrated blood, and lay the spirit to rest in her tomb, and with loud voice utter the last call.
11 At that lament our spirit was changed, and all assault stayed: we encourage him to speak, and tell of what blood he is sprung, or what assurance he brings his captors.
12 From them sometime in the rolling years the Romans were to arise indeed; from them were to be rulers who, renewing the blood of Teucer, should hold sea and land in universal lordship.
13 So saying, he drew him quivering to the very altar, slipping in the pool of his child's blood, and wound his left hand in his hair, while in his right the sword flashed out and plunged to the hilt in his side.
14 Myself I saw in the gateway Neoptolemus mad in slaughter, and the two sons of Atreus, saw Hecuba and the hundred daughters of her house, and Priam polluting with his blood the altar fires of his own consecration.
15 But my comrades' blood froze chill with sudden affright; their spirits fell; and no longer with arms, nay with vows and prayers they bid me entreat favour, whether these be goddesses, or winged things ill-ominous and foul.
16 Nevertheless she had heard a race was issuing of the blood of Troy, which sometime should overthrow her Tyrian citadel; from it should come a people, lord of lands and tyrannous in war, the destroyer of Libya: so rolled the destinies.
17 In perplexity we send Eurypylus to inquire of Phoebus' oracle; and he brings back from the sanctuary these words of terror: With blood of a slain maiden, O Grecians, you appeased the winds when first you came to the Ilian coasts; with blood must you seek your return, and an Argive life be the accepted sacrifice.
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