1 In no wise am I dismayed by those divine oracles of doom the Phrygians insolently advance.
2 But now for broad Italy hath Apollo of Grynos bidden me steer, for Italy the oracles of Lycia.
3 Omens and oracles of gods go down before them, and all under malign influence clamour for awful war.
4 I might not ally my daughter to any of her old wooers; such was the universal oracle of gods and men.
5 Then, freed from the oracle, the Lydian people man their fleet, laid by divine ordinance in the foreign captain's hand.
6 For here will I place thine oracles and the secrets of destiny uttered to my people, and consecrate chosen men, O gracious one.
7 Next we graze the high reefs and jutting rocks of Pachynus; and far off appears Camarina, forbidden for ever by oracles to move, and the Geloan plains, and vast Gela named after its river.
8 Nor does the embroidered purple so move the King, nor the sceptre of Priam, as his daughter's marriage and the bridal chamber absorb him, and the oracle of ancient Faunus stirs deep in his heart.
9 Nay, mine own prowess and the sanctity of divine oracles, our ancestral kinship, and the fame of thee that is spread abroad over the earth, have allied me to thee and led me willingly on the path of fate.
10 But the King, troubled by the omen, visits the oracle of his father Faunus the soothsayer, and the groves deep under Albunea, where, queen of the woods, she echoes from her holy well, and breathes forth a dim and deadly vapour.
11 My father counsels to remeasure the sea and go again to Phoebus in his Ortygian oracle, to pray for grace and ask what issue he ordains to our exhausted state; whence he bids us search for aid to our woes, whither bend our course.
12 I have a daughter whom the oracles of my father's shrine and many a celestial token alike forbid me to unite to one of our own nation; sons shall come, they prophesy, from foreign coasts, such is the destiny of Latium, whose blood shall exalt our name to heaven.
13 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.