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Polybius, Histories 310 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams) 138 0 Browse Search
Richard Hakluyt, The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques, and Discoveries of the English Nation 134 0 Browse Search
M. Tullius Cicero, Orations, The fourteen orations against Marcus Antonius (Philippics) (ed. C. D. Yonge) 102 0 Browse Search
John Conington, Commentary on Vergil's Aeneid, Volume 2 92 0 Browse Search
Diodorus Siculus, Library 90 0 Browse Search
C. Julius Caesar, Commentaries on the Civil War (ed. William Duncan) 86 0 Browse Search
Cornelius Tacitus, The History (ed. Alfred John Church, William Jackson Brodribb) 70 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden) 68 0 Browse Search
Pausanias, Description of Greece 66 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden). You can also browse the collection for Italy (Italy) or search for Italy (Italy) in all documents.

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P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 34 (search)
Now scarce the Trojan fleet, with sails and oars, Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores, Ent'ring with cheerful shouts the wat'ry reign, And plowing frothy furrows in the main; When, lab'ring still with endless discontent, The Queen of Heav'n did thus her fury vent: “Then am I vanquish'd? must I yield?” said she, “And must the Trojans reign in Italy? So Fate will have it, and Jove adds his force; Nor can my pow'r divert their happy course. Could angry Pallas, with revengeful spleen, The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men? She, for the fault of one offending foe, The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw: With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship, And bare expos'd the bosom of the deep; Then, as an eagle gripes the trembling game, The wretch, yet hissing with her father's flame, She strongly seiz'd, and with a burning wound Transfix'd, and naked, on a rock she bound. But I, who walk in awful state above, The majesty of heav'n, the sister wife of Jove, For length of years <
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 65 (search)
“O Aeolus! for to thee the King of Heav'n The pow'r of tempests and of winds has giv'n; Thy force alone their fury can restrain, And smooth the waves, or swell the troubled main— A race of wand'ring slaves, abhorr'd by me, With prosp'rous passage cut the Tuscan sea; To fruitful Italy their course they steer, And for their vanquish'd gods design new temples there. Raise all thy winds; with night involve the skies; Sink or disperse my fatal enemies. Twice sev'n, the charming daughters of the main, Around my person wait, and bear my train: Succeed my wish, and second my design; The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine, And make thee father of a happy lin
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 223 (search)
When, from aloft, almighty Jove surveys Earth, air, and shores, and navigable seas, At length on Libyan realms he fix'd his eyes— Whom, pond'ring thus on human miseries, When Venus saw, she with a lowly look, Not free from tears, her heav'nly sire bespoke: “O King of Gods and Men! whose awful hand Disperses thunder on the seas and land, Disposing all with absolute command; How could my pious son thy pow'r incense? Or what, alas! is vanish'd Troy's offense? Our hope of Italy not only lost, On various seas by various tempests toss'd, But shut from ev'ry shore, and barr'd from ev'ry coast. You promis'd once, a progeny divine Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line, In after times should hold the world in awe, And to the land and ocean give the law. How is your doom revers'd, which eas'd my care When Troy was ruin'd in that cruel war? Then fates to fates I could oppose; but now, When Fortune still pursues her former blow, What can I hope? What worse can still succeed? What end of labors ha
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 254 (search)
of th' immortal race, Smiling with that serene indulgent face, With which he drives the clouds and clears the skies, First gave a holy kiss; then thus replies: “Daughter, dismiss thy fears; to thy desire The fates of thine are fix'd, and stand entire. Thou shalt behold thy wish'd Lavinian walls; And, ripe for heav'n, when fate Aeneas calls, Then shalt thou bear him up, sublime, to me: No councils have revers'd my firm decree. And, lest new fears disturb thy happy state, Know, I have search'd the mystic rolls of Fate: Thy son (nor is th' appointed season far) In Italy shall wage successful war, Shall tame fierce nations in the bloody field, And sov'reign laws impose, and cities build, Till, after ev'ry foe subdued, the sun Thrice thro' the signs his annual race shall run: This is his time prefix'd. Ascanius then, Now call'd Iulus, shall begin his reign. He thirty rolling years the crown shall wear, Then from Lavinium shall the seat transfer, And, with hard labor, Alba Longa build
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 372 (search)
“Could you with patience hear, or I relate, O nymph, the tedious annals of our fate! Thro' such a train of woes if I should run, The day would sooner than the tale be done! From ancient Troy, by force expell'd, we came— If you by chance have heard the Trojan name. On various seas by various tempests toss'd, At length we landed on your Libyan coast. The good Aeneas am I call'd—a name, While Fortune favor'd, not unknown to fame. My household gods, companions of my woes, With pious care I rescued from our foes. To fruitful Italy my course was bent; And from the King of Heav'n is my descent. With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrygian sea; Fate and my mother goddess led my way. Scarce sev'n, the thin remainders of my fleet, From storms preserv'd, within your harbor meet. Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown, Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown, In Libyan desarts wander thus alone.” His tender parent could no longer bear; But, interposing, sought to soothe hi
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 520 (search)
ev'ry shore, From sea to sea, thy clemency implore. Forbid the fires our shipping to deface! Receive th' unhappy fugitives to grace, And spare the remnant of a pious race! We come not with design of wasteful prey, To drive the country, force the swains away: Nor such our strength, nor such is our desire; The vanquish'd dare not to such thoughts aspire. A land there is, Hesperia nam'd of old; The soil is fruitful, and the men are bold— th' Oenotrians held it once—by common fame Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name. To that sweet region was our voyage bent, When winds and ev'ry warring element Disturb'd our course, and, far from sight of land, Cast our torn vessels on the moving sand: The sea came on; the South, with mighty roar, Dispers'd and dash'd the rest upon the rocky shore. Those few you see escap'd the Storm, and fear, Unless you interpose, a shipwreck here. What men, what monsters, what inhuman race, What laws, what barb'rous customs of the place, Shut up a desart shore
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 544 (search)
Aeneas was our prince: a juster lord, Or nobler warrior, never drew a sword; Observant of the right, religious of his word. If yet he lives, and draws this vital air, Nor we, his friends, of safety shall despair; Nor you, great queen, these offices repent, Which he will equal, and perhaps augment. We want not cities, nor Sicilian coasts, Where King Acestes Trojan lineage boasts. Permit our ships a shelter on your shores, Refitted from your woods with planks and oars, That, if our prince be safe, we may renew Our destin'd course, and Italy pursue. But if, O best of men, the Fates ordain That thou art swallow'd in the Libyan main, And if our young Iulus be no more, Dismiss our navy from your friendly shore, That we to good Acestes may return, And with our friends our common losses mourn.” Thus spoke Ilioneus: the Trojan crew With cries and clamors his request renew
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 3, line 147 (search)
ete for our abode. A land there is, Hesperia call'd of old, (The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold—/L> Th' Oenotrians held it once,) by later fame Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name. lasius there and Dardanus were born; From thence we came, and thither must return. Rise, and thy sire with these glad tidings greet. Search Italy; for Jove denies thee Crete.’ Astonish'd at their voices and their sight, (Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night; I saw, I knew their faces, and descried, In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied;) I started from my couch; a clammy sweat On all my limbs and shiv'ring body sate. To heav'n I lift my hands with seat: Then said: ‘O son, turmoil'd in Trojan fate! Such things as these Cassandra did relate. This day revives within my mind what she Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy, And Latian lands; but who could then have thought That Phrygian gods to Latium should be brought, Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught? Now let us go where P<
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 3, line 356 (search)
e pass'd in mirth, till friendly gales, Blown from the supplied our swelling sails. Then to the royal seer I thus began: ‘O thou, who know'st, beyond the reach of man, The laws of heav'n, and what the stars decree; Whom Phoebus taught unerring prophecy, From his own tripod, and his holy tree; Skill'd in the wing'd inhabitants of air, What auspices their notes and flights declare: O say—for all religious rites portend A happy voyage, and a prosp'rous end; And ev'ry power and omen of the sky Direct my course for destin'd Italy; But only dire Celaeno, from the gods, A dismal famine fatally forebodes—/L> O say what dangers I am first to shun, What toils vanquish, and what course to run.’ The prophet first with sacrifice adores The greater gods; their pardon then implores; Unbinds the fillet from his holy head; To Phoebus, next, my trembling steps he led, Full of religious doubts and awful dread. Then, with his god possess'd, before the shrine, These words proceeded from his mouth
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 3, line 374 (search)
ngth the promis'd shore to gain. The rest the fates from Helenus conceal, And Juno's angry pow'r forbids to tell. First, then, that happy shore, that seems so nigh, Will far from your deluded wishes fly; Long tracts of seas divide your hopes from Italy: For you must cruise along Sicilian shores, And stem the currents with your struggling oars; Then round th' Italian coast your navy steer; And, after this, to Circe's island veer; And, last, before your new foundations rise, Must pass the Stygin once to view misshapen Scylla near, And the loud yell of wat'ry wolves to hear. ‘Besides, if faith to Helenus be due, And if prophetic Phoebus tell me true, Do not this precept of your friend forget, Which therefore more than once I must repeat: Above the rest, great Juno's name adore; Pay vows to Juno; Juno's aid implore. Let gifts be to the mighty queen design'd, And mollify with pray'rs her haughty mind. Thus, at the length, your passage shall be free, And you shall safe descend on Italy
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