mp Interea medium Aeneas iam classe tenebat certus iter fluctusque atros Aquilone secabat, moenia respiciens, quae iam infelicis Elissae conlucent flammis. quae tantum accenderit ignem 5causa latet; duri magno sed amore dolores polluto notumque, furens quid femina possit, triste per augurium Teucrorum pectora ducunt. Ut pelagus tenuere rates nec iam amplius ulla occurrit tellus, maria undique et undique caelum, 10olli caeruleus supra caput adstitit imber, noctem hiememque ferens, et inhorruit unda tenebris. ipse gubernator puppi Palinurus ab alta: “heu! quianam tanti cinxerunt aethera nimbi? quidve, pater Neptune, paras?” sic deinde locutus 15colligere arma iubet validisque incumbere remis, obliquatque sinus in ventum ac talia fatur: “magnanime Aenea, non, si mihi Iuppiter auctor spondeat, hoc sperem Italiam contingere caelo. mutati transversa fremunt et vespere ab atro 20consurgunt venti, atque in nubem cogitur aër. nec nos obniti contra nec tendere tantum sufficimus. superat quoniam Fortuna, sequamur, quoque vocat, vertamus iter. nec litora longe fida reor fraterna Erycis portusque Sicanos,
Meanwhile Aeneas with his fleet was now holding steadfastly his mid-sea course, and cleaving the waves that darkened under the north wind, looking back on the city walls which now gleam with unhappy Elissa’s funeral flames. What cause kindled so great a flame is unknown; but the cruel pangs when deep love is profaned, and knowledge of what a woman can do in frenzy, lead the hearts of the Trojans amid sad forebodings.
When the ships gained the deep and no longer any land is in sight, but sea on all sides and on all sides sky, then overhead loomed a black rain cloud, bringing night and tempest, and the wave shuddered darkling. Even the helmsman Palinurus cries from the high stern: “Alas! why have such clouds girt the heaven? What have you in mind, Father Neptune?” So he cries, and straightway bids them gather in the tackling and bend to their stout oars, then turns the sails aslant the wind and thus speaks: “Noble Aeneas, not even if Jupiter should use his authority to guarantee it, could I hope to reach Italy with such a sky. The winds have shifted and roar athwart our course, gathering from the black west; the air thickens into cloud and we cannot resist or stem the gale. Since Fortune is victor, let us follow and turn our course whither she calls. Nor far distant, I think, are the friendly shores of your brother