Scarce had she spoken when Pluto stopped, shamed by her prayer, and his grim spirit grew mild though little wont to be curbed: even so great Boreas, armed with strident blasts and tempestuous with congealed snow, his wings all frozen with Getic hail as he seeks battle, threatens to overwhelm the sea, the woods, and the fields with sounding storm; but should Aeolus chance to bar against him the brazen doors idly his fury dies away and his storms retire baulked to their prison-house. Then he bids summon Mercury, the son of Maia, that he may carry these flaming words to Jove. Straightway the wingèd god of Cyllene stands at his side shaking his sleepy wand, his herald cap upon his head. Pluto himself sits propped on his rugged throne, awful in funereal majesty; foul with age-long dust is his mighty sceptre; boding clouds make grim his lofty head; unpitying is the stiffness of his dread shape; rage heightened the terror of his aspect. Then with uplifted head he thunders forth these words, while, as the tyrant speaks, his halls tremble and are still; the massy hound, guardian of the gate, restrains the barking of his triple head, and Cocytus sinks back repressing his fount of tears; Acheron is dumb with silent wave, and the banks of Phlegethon cease their murmuring. * * * * * Page 300 “Atlantis Tegeaee nepos, commune profundis et superis numen, qui fas per limen utrumque 90 solus habes geminoque facis commercia mundo, i celer et proscinde Notos et iussa superbo redde Iovi: ‘tantumne tibi, saevissime frater, in me iuris erit? sic nobis noxia vires cum caelo Fortuna tulit? num robur et arma 95 perdidimus, si rapta dies? an forte iacentes ignavosque putas, quod non Cyclopia tela stringimus aut vanas tonitru deludimus auras? nonne satis visum, grati quod luminis expers tertia supremae patior dispendia sortis 100 informesque plagas, cum te laetissimus ornet Signifer et vario cingant splendore Triones; sed thalamis etiam prohibes? Nereia glauco Neptunum gremio complectitur Amphitrite; te consanguineo recipit post fulmina fessum 105 Iuno sinu. quid enim narrem Latonia furta, quid Cererem magnamque Themin? tibi tanta creandi copia; te felix natorum turba coronat. ast ego deserta maerens inglorius aula implacidas nullo solabor pignore curas? 110 non adeo toleranda quies. primordia testor noctis et horrendae stagna intemerata paludis: si dicto parere negas, patefacta ciebo Tartara, Saturni veteres laxabo catenas, obducam tenebris solem, compage soluta 115 lucidus umbroso miscebitur axis Averno.’” * * * * * Page 301