gh him, Pilumnus' own son's son, Venilia brought to birth--
But what if Trojans fall with flame upon the Latin folk,
And drive the prey from off their fields oppressed by outland yoke?
Or choose them sons-in-law, or brides from mothers' bosoms tear?
Or, holding peace within their hands, lade ships with weapon-gear? 80
Thou erst hadst might from Greekish hands AEneas' self to draw,
To thrust a cloud and empty wind in stead of man of war,
And unto sea-nymphs ship by ship the ship-host mayst thou change.
But we to help the Rutuli, 'tis horrible and strange!
--Unware AEneas is away?--let him abide unware!
Paphus thou hast, Idalium, and high Cythera fair,
Then why with cities big with war and hearts of warriors deal?
What! we it was who strove to wrack the fainting Trojan weal?
We!--or the one who thwart the Greeks the wretched Trojans dashed?
Yea, and what brought it all about that thus in arms they clashed, 90
Europe and Asia? that men brake the plighted peace by theft?
Did I the Dardan lecher lead, who Sparta's jewel reft?
Did I set weapons in his hand, breed lust to breed debate?
Then had thy care for thine been meet, but now indeed o'erlate
With wrongful plaint thou risest up, and bickerest emptily."

So pleaded Juno, and all they, the heavenly folk anigh,
Murmured their doom in diverse wise; as when the first of wind
Caught in the woods is murmuring on, and rolleth moanings blind,
Betraying to the mariners the onset of the gale.
Then spake the Almighty Sire, in whom is all the world's avail, 100
And as he spake the high-built house of God was quieted,
And earth from her foundations shook, and heaven was hushed o'erhead,
The winds fell down, the face of sea was laid in quiet fair:

"Take ye these matters to your hearts, and set my sayings there;
Since nowise the Ausonian folk the plighted troth may blend
With Teucrians, and your contest seems a strife without an end;
What fortune each may have today, what hope each one shears out,
Trojan or Rutulan, will I hold all in balanced doubt,
Whether the camp be so beset by fate of Italy,
Or hapless wanderings of Troy, and warnings dealt awry. 110
Nor loose I Rutulans the more; let each one's way-faring
Bear its own hap and toil, for Jove to all alike is king;
The Fates will find a way to wend."