Meanwhile, from the heaven Jupiter watched the lands below, and the seas With the white points of sails, and far-off people, Turning his gaze toward Libya. And Venus Came to him then, a little sadly, tears Brimming in those bright eyes of hers. “Great father,” She said, “Great ruler of the world Of men and gods, great wielder of the lightning, What has my poor Aeneas done? what outrage Could Trojans perpetrate, so that the world Rejects them everywhere, and many a death Inflicted on them over Italy? There was a promise once, that as the years Rolled onward, they would father Rome and rulers Of Roman stock, to hold dominion over All sea and land. That was a promise, father; What changed it? Once that promise was my comfort; Troy fell; I weighed one fate against another And found some consolation. But disaster Keeps on; the same ill-fortune follows after. What end of it all, great king? One man, Antenor, Escaped the Greeks, came through Illyrian waters Safe to Liburnian regions, where Timavus Roars underground, comes up nine times, and reaches The floodland near the seas. One man, Antenor, Founded a city, Padua, a dwelling For Trojan men, a resting-place from labor, And shares their quietude. But we, your children, To whom heaven’s height is granted, we are betrayed, We have lost our ships, we are kept from Italy, Kept far away. One enemy--I tell you This is a shameful thing! Do we deserve it? Is this our rise to power?”