Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/254

230 The armouries of air and main

Were loosed on Troy, and loosed in vain.

What vantaged me those powers of hurt,

Charybdis, Scylla, and the Syrt?

In Tiber's port they ride at ease

And laugh at Juno and her seas.

Yet Mars could sweep from earth's wide face

All vestige of the Lapith race:

Old Calydon the eternal Sire

Surrendered to Diana's ire:

What sin so grievous had they done,

The Lapith race or Calydon?

But I, the Thunderer's awful bride,

Who left, poor wretch, no art untried,

Who dared a thousand arms to wield,

Must yield, and to Æneas yield.

If strength like mine be yet too weak,

I care not whose the aid I seek:

What choice 'twixt under and above?

If Heaven be firm, the shades shall move.

Grant that I cannot bar the way

That leads him to his Latian sway,

That fixed in destiny must stand

The promise of Lavinia's hand:

Yet just it were events so great

For slow accomplishment should wait;

Yet may I make the monarchs twain

Each mourner for a nation slain.

So let them give and take them wives,

The wedding's cost their people's lives.

Behold your marriage dower, fair maid!

In Latium's blood and Troy's 't is paid:

Bellona at the appointed hour

Shall light you to your bridal bower.

Not Hecuba the only dame

Whose womb bore fruit in nuptial flame: