deepest caves. They loathe the deed and the daylight. Sobered, they know their friends again, and Juno is exorcised 35 from their souls. But not for all this will blaze and burning resign their unslaked powers: deep among the moistened timber smoulders the quick tow, discharging a slow lazy smoke: the crawling heat preys on the keels, and the plague sinks down into the vessel’s every limb, and strength of giant warriors and streaming water-floods are all of no avail. Then good Æneas began to tear his raiment from his back and call the gods for aid, and raise 5 his hands in prayer: “Jove Almighty, if thy hate would not yet sweep off the whole Trojan race to a man, if thy ancient goodness has yet any regard for human suffering, grant the fleet to escape from flame now, Father, even now, and rescue from death the shattered commonweal of Troy. 10 Or else do thou with thy wrathful bolt send down this poor remnant to the grave, if that is my fit reward, and here with thy own right hand overwhelm us all.” Scarce had the words been breathed, when a black tempest is set loose, raging with fierce bursts of rain: the thunderpeals 15 thrill through highland and lowland—down from the whole sky pours a torrent of blinding water, thickened to blackness by the southern winds—the ships are filled, the smouldering timbers soaked—till every spark is quenched at last, and all the vessels, with the loss of four, 20 rescued from the deadly plague. But father Æneas, staggering under this cruel blow, began to shift from side to side a vast burden of care, as he pondered whether to settle in the plains of Sicily, shutting his ears to Fate’s voice, or still make for the shores of 25 Italy. Then Nautes the aged—whom Tritonian Pallas singled from his kind, to teach her lore and dower him with the fame of abundant wisdom—hers the oracular utterances which told what Heaven’s awful wrath portended, or what the stern sequence of destiny required—he 30 it was that addressed Æneas thus in words of comfort: “Goddess-born, be it ours to follow as Fate pulls us to or fro; come what may, there is no conquering fortune but by endurance. Here you have Acestes, the blood of Dardanus and of gods mingling in his veins—make him the 35 partner of your thoughts, and invite the aid he will gladly give. Consign to him the crews whom your missing ships have left homeless, and those who are tired of high emprize and of following your fortunes—the old, old men, and the matrons, weary of ocean, and whatever you have that is weak and timorsome—set these apart, and suffer them to have in this land a city of rest. The town’s name, with leave given, they shall call Acesta.” 5