And chang’d the ships to daughters of the sea. But is my crime—the Queen of Heav’n offends, If she presume to save her suff’ring friends! Your son, not knowing what his foes decree, You say, is absent: absent let him be. Yours is Cythera, yours the Cyprian tow’rs, The soft recesses, and the sacred bow’rs. Why do you then these needless arms prepare, And thus provoke a people prone to war? Did I with fire the Trojan town deface, Or hinder from return your exil’d race? Was I the cause of mischief, or the man Whose lawless lust the fatal war began? Think on whose faith th’ adult’rous youth relied; Who promis’d, who procur’d, the Spartan bride? When all th’ united states of Greece combin’d, To purge the world of the perfidious kind, Then was your time to fear the Trojan fate: Your quarrels and complaints are now too late.” Thus Juno. Murmurs rise, with mix’d applause, Just as they favour or dislike the cause. So winds, when yet unfledg’d in woods they lie, In whispers first their tender voices try, Then issue on the main with bellowing rage, And storms to trembling mariners presage. Then thus to both replied th’ imperial god, Who shakes heav’n’s axles with his awful nod. (When he begins, the silent senate stand With rev’rence, list’ning to the dread command: The clouds dispel; the winds their breath restrain; And the hush’d waves lie flatted on the main.) “Celestials, your attentive ears incline! Since,” said the god, “the Trojans must not join In wish’d alliance with the Latian line; Since endless jarrings and immortal hate Tend but to discompose our happy state; The war henceforward be resign’d to fate: Each to his proper fortune stand or fall; Equal and unconcern’d I look on all. Rutulians, Trojans, are the same to me; And both shall draw the lots their fates decree. Let these assault, if Fortune be their friend; And, if she favours those, let those defend: The Fates will find their way.” The Thund’rer said, And shook the sacred honours of his head, Attesting Styx, th’ inviolable flood, And the black regions of his brother god. Trembled the poles of heav’n, and earth confess’d the nod. This end the sessions had: the senate rise, And to his palace wait their sov’reign thro’ the skies. Meantime, intent upon their siege, the foes Within their walls the Trojan host inclose: They wound, they kill, they watch at ev’ry gate; Renew the fires, and urge their happy fate.