LXXXI. Then bitterly AEneas mocked him: "Lo, Proud Lucagus! no lagging steeds have played Thy chariot false, nor shadows of the foe Deceived thy horses, and their hearts dismayed. 'Tis thou--thy leap has lost the car!" He said And snatched the reins. The brother in despair Slipped down, and spread his hapless hands, and prayed: "O by thyself, great son of Troy, forbear; By those who bore thee such, have pity on my prayer." LXXXII. More would he, but AEneas: "Nay, not so Thou spak'st erewhile. Die now, and take thy way, And join thy brother, brotherlike, below." Deep in the breast he stabbed him as he lay, And bared the life's recesses to the day. Such deaths the Dardan dealt upon the plain, Like storm or torrent, full of rage to slay. And now at length Ascanius and his train Burst forth, and leave their camp, long leaguered, but in vain. LXXXIII. Great Jove meanwhile to Juno spake and said, "Sweet spouse and sister, thou hast deemed aright, 'Tis Venus, sure, who doth the Trojans aid, Not courage, strength and patience in the fight." Then Juno meekly: "Dearest, why delight With cruel words to vex me, sad with fear And sick at heart? Had still my love the might It had and should have; were I still so dear, Not thou, with all thy power, should'st then refuse to hear, LXXXIV. "But safe should Turnus from the fight once more Return to greet old Daunus. Be it so, And let him die, and shed his righteous gore To glut the vengeance of his Teucrian foe, Albeit his name celestial birth doth show, Fourth in succession from Pilumnus, yea, Though oft his hand thy sacred shrines below Hath heaped his gifts." She ended, and straightway Brief answer made the Sire, who doth Olympus sway: LXXXV. "If but a respite for the youth be sought, A little time of tarrying, ere he die, And thus thou read'st the purport of my thought, Take then awhile thy Turnus; let him fly And 'scape his present fates; thus far may I Indulge thee. But if aught beneath thy prayer Lie veiled of purpose or of hopes more high, To change the war's whole aspect, then beware, For idle hopes thou feed'st, as empty as the air." LXXXVI. Then She with tears: "What if thy heart should give The pledge and promise, that thy lips disdain, And Turnus by thy warrant still should live? Now death awaits him guiltless, or in vain I read the Fates. Ah! may I merely feign An empty fear, and better thoughts advise Thee--for thou can'st--to spare him and refrain!" So saying, arrayed in storm-clouds, through the skies Down to Laurentum's camp and Ilian lines she flies.