"O Dwellers in the House of Heaven, why backward thuswise wins Your purpose? Why, with hearts unruled, raise ye the strife so sore? I clean forbade that Italy should clash with Troy in war. Now why the war that I forbade? who egged on these or those To fear or fight, or drave them on with edge of sword to close? 10 Be not o'ereager in your haste: the hour of fight shall come, When dreadful Carthage on a day against the walls of Rome, Betwixt the opened doors of Alps, a mighty wrack shall send; Then may ye battle, hate to hate, and reach and grasp and rend: But now forbear, and joyfully knit fast the plighted peace." Few words spake Jove; but not a few in answer unto these Gave golden Venus back again: "O Father, O eternal might of men and deeds of earth-- For what else may be left to me whereto to turn my prayers?-- Thou seest the Rutuli in pride, and Turnus, how he fares? 20 Amidst them, borne aloft by steeds, and, swelling, war-way sweeps With Mars to aid: the fencèd place no more the Teucrians keeps, For now within the very gates and mound-heaped battlement They blend in fight, and flood of gore adown the ditch is sent, Unware Æneas is away.--Must they be never free From bond of leaguer? lo, again the threatening enemy Hangs over Troy new-born! Behold new host arrayed again From Arpi, the Ætolian-built; against the Teucrian men Tydides riseth. So for me belike new wounds in store, And I, thy child, must feel the edge of arms of mortal war. 30 Now if without thy peace, without thy Godhead's will to speed, The Trojans sought for Italy, let ill-hap pay ill deed, Nor stay them with thine help: but if they followed many a word Given forth by Gods of Heaven and Hell, by whom canst thou be stirred To turn thy doom, or who to forge new fate may e'er avail? Of ship-host burnt on Eryx shore why should I tell the tale? Or of the king of wind and storm, or wild and windy crowd Æolia bred, or Iris sent adown the space of cloud? But now withal the Gods of Hell, a world untried before, She stirreth, and Alecto sent up to the earthly shore 40 In sudden hurry raves about towns of Italian men. No whit for lordship do I yearn: I hoped such glories then While Fortune was: let them be lords whom thou wilt doom for lords! But if no land thy hard-heart wife to Teucrian men awards, Yet, Father, by the smoking wrack of overwhelmèd Troy I pray thee from the weapon-dint safe let me send a boy, Yea, e'en Ascanius: let me keep my grandson safe for me! Yea, let Æneas toss about on many an unknown sea, And let him follow wheresoe'er his fortune shall have led: But this one let me shield, and take safe from the battle's dread. 50 Paphus, Cythera, Amathus, are mine, and I abide Within Idalia's house: let him lay weed of war aside,