Tell him he should not send the peace, but bring: Then let him not a friend's embraces fear; The peace is made when I behold him here. Besides this answer, tell my royal guest, I add to his commands my own request: Only one daughter heirs my crown and state, Whom not our oracles, nor heaven, nor fate, Nor frequent prodigies, permit to join With any native of the Ausonian line. A foreign son-in-law shall come from far, (Such is our doom,) a chief renowned in war, Whose race shall bear aloft the Latian name, And through the conquered world diffuse our fame. Himself to be the man the fates require, I firmly judge, and, what I judge, desire." He said, and then on each bestowed a steed. Three hundred horses, in high stables fed, Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dressed: Of these he chose the fairest and the best, To mount the Trojan troop. At his command, The steeds caparisoned with purple stand, With golden trappings, glorious to behold, And champ betwixt their teeth the foaming gold. Then to his absent guest the king decreed A pair of coursers born of heavenly breed, Who from their nostrils breathed etherial fire; Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire, By substituting mares produced on earth, Whose wombs conceived a more than mortal birth. These draw the chariot which Latinus sends, And the rich present to the prince commends. Sublime on stately steeds the Trojans borne, To their expecting lord with peace return. But jealous Juno, from Pachynus' height, } As she from Argos took her airy flight, } Beheld, with envious eyes, this hateful sight. } She saw the Trojan, and his joyful train, Descend upon the shore, desert the main, Design a town, and, with unhoped success, The embassadors return with promised peace. Then, pierced with pain, she shook her haughty head, Sighed from her inward soul, and thus she said:-- "O hated offspring of my Phrygian foes! O fates of Troy, which Juno's fates oppose! Could they not fall unpitied on the plain, But slain revive, and taken 'scape again? When execrable Troy in ashes lay, Through fires and swords and seas they forced their way. Then vanquished Juno must in vain contend,-- Her rage disarmed, her empire at an end! Breathless and tired, is all my fury spent? Or does my glutted spleen at length relent? As if 'twere little from their town to chase, I through the seas pursued their exiled race; Engaged the heavens, opposed the stormy main; But billows roared, and tempests raged in vain. What have my Scyllas and my Syrtes done, When these they overpass, and those they shun? On Tyber's shores they land, secure of fate, Triumphant o'er the storms and Juno's hate! Mars could in mutual blood the Centaurs bathe, And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath, Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon; (What great offence had either people done?)