to our Sire."--In doubt
They waver, and with eyes that bode amiss
Look towards the vessels and the blue abyss
Of ocean, torn in spirit 'twixt the love
Of realms that shall be and the land that is.
On even wings the goddess soared above,
And with her rainbow vast the cloudy drift she clove.

XC. Then, by the monstrous prodigy dismayed,
And driven by madness, forth the matrons fare
With shouts and shrieks. The houses they invade,
And living embers from the hearthstones tear,
With impious hands these strip the altars bare,
And boughs, and leaves and lighted brands they cast
In heaps, and fuel for the flames prepare.
O'er bench and oar, from painted keel to mast,
The Fire-god raves at will, and rides upon the blast.

XCI. Meanwhile, with tidings of the fleet in flames,
Swift posts Eumelus. To the tomb he hies
Of old Anchises, and the crowded games.
Back look the Trojans, and with awe-struck eyes
See the dark ash-cloud floating through the skies.
And, as his troop Ascanius joyed to lead
In mimic fight, so keen, when danger cries,
First to the wildered camp he spurs his steed;
And breathless guardians fail to stay his headlong speed.

XCII. "What madness this, poor women?" he exclaims,
"What mean ye now? No camp of Argive foe,
_Your_ hopes ye doom to perish in the flames.
See your Ascanius!"--At his feet below
He flung the helmet, that adorned his brow
When mimic fight he marshalled. Hurrying came
AEneas, hurrying came the host; but lo!
The shore lies bare; this way and that each dame
Slinks to the woods and caves, if aught can hide her shame.

XCIII. All loathe the daylight and the deed unblest.
Sobered, they know their countrymen at last,
And Juno's power is shaken from each breast.
Not so the flames; with gathered strength and fast
Onward still swept the unconquerable blast.
Forth puffed between the timbers, drenched in vain,
The smoke-jets from the smouldering tow. Down passed
From keel to cabin the devouring bane.
Nor floods nor heroes' strength the mastering flames restrain.

XCIV. Then good AEneas from his shoulders threw
His robe, and heavenward stretched his hands in prayer;
"Great Jove! if spares thy vengeance to pursue
Troy's children to the uttermost, if e'er
The toils of mortals move thy ancient care,
Preserve this feeble remnant, and command