The champion ceased; there follow'd in the close A hollow groan: a murmuring wind arose; The rings of iron, that on the doors were hung, Sent out a jarring sound, and harshly rung: 360 The bolted gates flew open at the blast, The storm rush'd in, and Arcite stood aghast: The flames were blown aside, yet shone they bright, Fann'd by the wind, and gave a ruffled light. Then from the ground a scent began to rise, Sweet smelling, as accepted sacrifice: This omen pleased, and as the flames aspire With odorous incense Arcite heaps the fire: Nor wanted hymns to Mars, or heathen charms: At length the nodding statue clash'd his arms, 370 And with a sullen sound and feeble cry, Half sunk, and half pronounced the word of victory. For this, with soul devout, he thank'd the god, And, of success secure, return'd to his abode. These vows thus granted, raised a strife above, Betwixt the God of War and Queen of Love. She, granting first, had right of time to plead; But he had granted too, nor would recede. Jove was for Venus; but he fear'd his wife, And seem'd unwilling to decide the strife; 380 Till Saturn from his leaden throne arose, And found a way the difference to compose: Though sparing of his grace, to mischief bent, He seldom does a good with good intent. Wayward, but wise; by long experience taught, To please both parties, for ill ends, he sought: For this advantage age from youth has won, As not to be outridden, though outrun. By fortune he was now to Venus trined, And with stern Mars in Capricorn was join'd: 390 Of him disposing in his own abode, He soothed the goddess, while he gull'd the god: Cease, daughter, to complain, and stint the strife; Thy Palamon shall have his promised wife: And Mars, the lord of conquest, in the fight With palm and laurel shall adorn his knight. Wide is my course, nor turn I to my place, Till length of time, and move with tardy pace. Man feels me, when I press the ethereal plains, My hand is heavy, and the wound remains. 400 Mine is the shipwreck, in a watery sign; And in an earthy, the dark dungeon mine. Cold shivering agues, melancholy care, And bitter blasting winds, and poison'd air, Are mine, and wilful death, resulting from despair. The throttling quinsey 'tis my star appoints, And rheumatisms ascend to rack the joints: When churls rebel against their native prince, I arm their hands, and furnish the pretence; And housing in the lion's hateful sign, 410 Bought senates, and deserting troops are mine. Mine is the privy poisoning; I command Unkindly seasons, and ungrateful land. By me kings' palaces are push'd to ground. And miners crush'd beneath their mines are found. 'Twas I slew Samson, when the pillar'd hall