Book 15
And, lest that son should come from mortal seed,
745
Julius Caesar must change and be a god.
When the golden mother of Aeneas was
aware of this and saw a grievous end
plotted against her high priest, saw the armed
conspiracy preparing for his death,
with pallid face she met each god and said:
“Look with what might this plot prepares itself
against my cause; with how much guile it dooms
the head which is the last that I have left
from old-time Iulus, prince and heir of Troy.
Shall I alone be harassed through all time
by fear well grounded? First the son of Tydeus
must wound me with his Calydonian spear;
and then I tremble at the tottering walls
of ill defended Troy; I watch my son
driven in long wanderings, tossed upon the sea,
descending to the realm of silent shades,
and waging war with Turnus—or, if I should speak
the truth, with Juno! Why do I recall
disasters of my race from long ago?
The present dread forbids my looking back
at ills now past. See how the wicked swords
are whetted for the crime! Forbid it now,
I pray you, and prevent the deed,
let not the priest's warm blood quench vestal fires!”
Such words as these, full of her anxious thoughts,
Venus proclaimed through all the heavens, in vain.
The gods were moved, and, since they could not break
the ancient sisters' iron decree, they gave
instead clear portents of approaching woe.
It is declared, resounding arms heard from
the black clouds and unearthly trumpet blasts
and clarions heard through all the highest heavens,
forewarned men of the crime. The sad sun's face
gave to the frightened world a livid light;
and in the night-time torches seemed to burn
amid the stars, and often drops of blood
fell in rain-showers. Then Lucifer shone blue
with all his visage stained by darksome rust.
