And now the whole nation had enjoyed a nine days’ banquet, and the altars had received due observance; 15 the sleeping winds have lulled the waves, and the repeated whispers of the south invite to the deep once more. Uprises along the winding shore a mighty sound of weeping; prolonged embraces make day and night move slow. Even the matrons, even the weaklings, who so lately 20 shuddered at the look of the sea, and could not bear its name, would now fain go and endure all the weariness of the journey. Them the good Æneas cheers with words of kindness, and tearfully commends them to Acestes, his kinsman and theirs. Then he bids slay three calves to 25 Eryx, and a ewe-lamb to the weather gods, and in due course has the cable cut, while he, his head wreathed with stript olive leaves, stands aloft in the prow with a charger in hand, and far into the briny waves flings the entrails, and pours the sparkling wine. A wind gets up from the 30 stern, and escorts them on their way. Each vying with each, the crews strike the water, and sweep the marble surface. Meanwhile Venus, harassed with care, bespeaks Neptune, and utters from her heart plaints like these: “The fell wrath of Juno’s bottomless heart constrains me, Neptune, to stoop to all the abasement of prayer—wrath that no length of time softens, no piety of man, unconquered and unsilenced by Jove’s behest, by destiny itself. It is not enough 5 that her monstrous malice has torn the heart from the breast of Phrygia,[o] and dragged a city through an infinity of vengeance—the remnants of Troy, the very ashes and bones of the slain—these she pursues; rage so fiendish let _her_ trace to its source. Thou thyself canst bear me witness 10 but now in the Libyan waters, what mountains she raised all in a moment—all ocean she confounded with heaven, blindly relying on Æolus’ storms to convulse a realm where thou art master. See now—goading the matrons of Troy to crime, she has basely burnt their ships, and driven 15 them in the ruins of their fleet to leave their mates to a home on an unknown shore. These poor relics, then, let _them_, I beg, spread the sail in safety along thy waters; let them touch the mouth of Laurentian Tiber, if my prayer is lawful, if that city is granted them of Fate.” 20