L. "Ne'er taxed I then thy labours, dearest love, Large as my debt to Priam's sons, and sore My grief for poor AEneas. Now, since Jove Hath brought him here to the Rutulian shore, Thine arms I ask, thy deity implore, A mother for her son. Dread power divine, Whom Thetis, whom Tithonus' spouse of yore Could move with tears, behold, what hosts combine, What towns, with barr'd gates, arm to ruin me and mine." LI. She spake, and both her snowy arms outflung Around him doubting, and embraced the Sire, And, softly fondling, kissed him as she clung. Through bones and veins her melting charms inspire The well-known heat, and reawake desire. So, riven by the thunder, through the pile Of storm-clouds runs the glittering cleft of fire. Proud of her beauty, with a conscious smile, The Goddess feels her power, and gladdens at the guile. LII. Then Vulcan, mastered by immortal love, Answers his spouse, "Why, Goddess mine, invent Such far-fetched pleas? Dost thou thy faith remove, And cease to trust in Vulcan? Had thy bent So moved thee then, arms quickly had I lent To aid thy Trojans, and thy wish were gained, Nor envious Fate, nor Jove omnipotent Had crossed my purpose; then had Troy remained, And Priam ten years more the kingly line sustained. LIII. "E'en now, if war thou seekest to prepare, And thither tends thy purpose, be it sped. Whate'er my craft can promise, whatso'er Is wrought with iron, ivory or lead, Fanned with the blast, or molten in the bed, Thine be it all; forbear a suppliant's quest, Nor wrong thy beauty's potency." He said, And gave the love she longed for; on her breast Outpoured at length he slept, and loosed his limbs with rest. LIV. 'Twas midnight; sleep had faded from its prime, The hour, when housewives, who a scanty fare Eke out with loom and distaff, rise in time To wake the embers, and the night outwear; Then call their handmaids, by the light to share The task, that keeps the husband's bed from shame, And earns a pittance for the babes. So there, Nor tardier, to his toil the Lord of Flame Springs from his couch of down, the workmen's task to frame. LV. Hard by AEolian Lipare, before Sicania, looms an island from the deep, With smoking rocks. There AEtna's caverns roar, Hewn by the Cyclop's forges from the steep. There the steel hisses and the sparks upleap, And clanging anvils, smit with dexterous aim, Groan through the cavern, as their strokes they heap, And restless in the furnace pants the flame. 'Twas Vulcan's house, the land even yet bears Vulcan's name.