Then thus th’ almighty sire began: “Ye gods, Natives or denizens of blest abodes, From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind, This backward fate from what was first design’d? Why this protracted war, when my commands Pronounc’d a peace, and gave the Latian lands? What fear or hope on either part divides Our heav’ns, and arms our powers on diff’rent sides? A lawful time of war at length will come, (Nor need your haste anticipate the doom), When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome, Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains, And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains. Then is your time for faction and debate, For partial favour, and permitted hate. Let now your immature dissension cease; Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace.” Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge; But lovely Venus thus replies at large: “O pow’r immense, eternal energy, (For to what else protection can we fly?) Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare In fields, unpunish’d, and insult my care? How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train, In shining arms, triumphant on the plain? Ev’n in their lines and trenches they contend, And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend: The town is fill’d with slaughter, and o’erfloats, With a red deluge, their increasing moats. Aeneas, ignorant, and far from thence, Has left a camp expos’d, without defence. This endless outrage shall they still sustain? Shall Troy renew’d be forc’d and fir’d again? A second siege my banish’d issue fears, And a new Diomede in arms appears. One more audacious mortal will be found; And I, thy daughter, wait another wound. Yet, if with fates averse, without thy leave, The Latian lands my progeny receive, Bear they the pains of violated law, And thy protection from their aid withdraw. But, if the gods their sure success foretell; If those of heav’n consent with those of hell, To promise Italy; who dare debate The pow’r of Jove, or fix another fate? What should I tell of tempests on the main, Of Aeolus usurping Neptune’s reign? Of Iris sent, with Bacchanalian heat T’ inspire the matrons, and destroy the fleet? Now Juno to the Stygian sky descends, Solicits hell for aid, and arms the fiends. That new example wanted yet above: An act that well became the wife of Jove! Alecto, rais’d by her, with rage inflames The peaceful bosoms of the Latian dames. Imperial sway no more exalts my mind; (Such hopes I had indeed, while Heav’n was kind;) Now let my happier foes possess my place, Whom Jove prefers before the Trojan race; And conquer they, whom you with conquest grace. Since you can spare, from all your wide command,