SCENE 4

A deserted street in Troy, lit up fitfully by smoldering fires. Æneas enters, peering through the gloom on all sides, and calling loudly upon the name of his wife. Suddenly a shadowy form appears before him.

_The Ghost of Creüsa_ (776-789):

What boots it to indulge this storm of grief, O dearest husband? For be sure of this, That not without permission of the gods Have these things come to pass. ‘Twas not allowed That thy Creüsa should go hence with thee, Nor does Olympus’ ruler suffer it. To distant lands, long exiled must thou roam, Must plow the water of the vasty deep, Until thou come to that far western land, Where Lydian Tiber’s gently murmuring stream Rolls down through rich and cultivated fields. There joyful state and kingdom wait for thee, There one who is allotted for thy wife. Then dry the tears which now affection sheds For thy well-loved Creüsa, once thy wife; For ‘tis not mine to see the haughty seats Of Myrmidonian or Dolopian foes; Nor shall I go to serve the Grecian dames, Proud princess of Dardania that I am, By marriage made the child of Venus’ self. But Cybele, great mother of the gods, Detains me still upon these Trojan shores. Then look thy last upon me, and farewell, And let our common son employ your love.

Æneas starts forward with a cry to embrace the ghost, but it eludes his grasp and vanishes from sight. He sorrowfully turns away and leaves the scene.