And, for a man, obtend an empty cloud. } From flaming fleets you turned the fire away, And changed the ships to daughters of the sea. But 'tis my crime--the queen of heaven offends, If she presume to save her suffering friends! Your son, not knowing what his foes decree, You say, is absent: absent let him be. Yours is Cythera, yours the Cyprian towers, The soft recesses, and the sacred bowers. Why do you then these needless arms prepare, And thus provoke a people prone to war? Did I with fire the Trojan town deface, Or hinder from return your exiled race? Was I the cause of mischief, or the man, Whose lawless lust the fatal war began? Think on whose faith the adulterous youth relied; Who promised, who procured, the Spartan bride? When all the united states of Greece combined, To purge the world of the perfidious kind, Then was your time to fear the Trojan fate:-- Your quarrels and complaints are now too late." Thus Juno. Murmurs rise, with mixed applause, Just as they favour or dislike the cause. So winds, when yet unfledged in woods they lie, In whispers first their tender voices try, Then issue on the main with bellowing rage, And storms to trembling mariners presage. Then thus to both replied the imperial god, Who shakes heaven's axles with his awful nod. (When he begins, the silent senate stand, With reverence listening to the dread command: The clouds dispel; the winds their breath restrain; And the hushed waves lie flatted on the main.) "Celestials! your attentive ears incline! } Since (said the god) the Trojans must not join } In wished alliance with the Latian line-- } Since endless jarrings and immortal hate, } Tend but to discompose our happy state-- } The war henceforward be resigned to fate: } Each to his proper fortune stand or fall; Equal and unconcerned I look on all. Rutulians, Trojans, are the same to me; And both shall draw the lots their fates decree. Let these assault, if Fortune be their friend; And, if she favours those, let those defend:-- The fates will find their way." The Thunderer said; And shook the sacred honours of his head, Attesting Styx, the inviolable flood, } And the black regions of his brother god. } Trembled the poles of heaven, and earth confessed the nod. } This end the sessions had: the senate rise, And to his palace wait their sovereign through the skies. Meantime, intent upon their siege, the foes Within their walls the Trojan host inclose: They wound, they kill, they watch at every gate; Renew the fires, and urge their happy fate. The Æneans wish in vain their wanted chief, Hopeless of flight, more hopeless of relief. Thin on the towers they stand; and even those few, A feeble, fainting, and dejected crew.