But I, the consort of the Thunderer, Have waged a long and unsuccessful war, With various arts and arms in vain have toiled, And by a mortal man at length am foiled! If native power prevail not, shall I doubt To seek for needful succour from without? If Jove and heaven my just desires deny, Hell shall the power of heaven and Jove supply. Grant that the Fates have firmed, by their decree, The Trojan race to reign in Italy: At least I can defer the nuptial day, And, with protracted wars, the peace delay: With blood the dear alliance shall be bought, And both the people near destruction brought; So shall the son-in-law and father join, With ruin, war, and waste of either line. O fatal maid! thy marriage is endowed With Phrygian, Latian, and Rutulian blood! Bellona leads thee to thy lover's hand; } Another queen brings forth another brand, } To burn with foreign fires another land! } A second Paris, differing but in name, Shall fire his country with a second flame." Thus having said, she sinks beneath the ground, With furious haste, and shoots the Stygian sound, To rouse Alecto from the infernal seat Of her dire sisters, and their dark retreat. This Fury, fit for her intent, she chose; One who delights in wars, and human woes. Even Pluto hates his own mis-shapen race; Her sister Furies fly her hideous face; So frightful are the forms the monster takes, So fierce the hissings of her speckled snakes. Her Juno finds, and thus inflames her spite:-- "O virgin daughter of eternal Night, Give me this once thy labour, to sustain My right, and execute my just disdain. Let not the Trojans, with a feigned pretence Of proffered peace, delude the Latian prince. Expel from Italy that odious name, And let not Juno suffer in her fame. 'Tis thine to ruin realms, o'erturn a state, } Betwixt the dearest friends to raise debate, } And kindle kindred blood to mutual hate. } Thy hand o'er towns the funeral torch displays, And forms a thousand ills ten thousand ways. Now shake, from out thy fruitful breast, the seeds Of envy, discord, and of cruel deeds: Confound the peace established, and prepare Their souls to hatred, and their hands to war." Smeared as she was with black Gorgonean blood, The Fury sprang above the Stygian flood; And on her wicker wings, sublime through night, She to the Latian palace took her flight: There sought the queen's apartment, stood before The peaceful threshold, and besieged the door. Restless Amata lay, her swelling breast } Fired with disdain for Turnus dispossessed, } And the new nuptials of the Trojan guest. } From her black bloody locks the Fury shakes Her darling plague, the favourite of her snakes: With her full force she threw the poisonous dart,