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and bear all want and woe to exiles known.
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But good Aeneas with benignant words
their sorrow soothes, and, not without a tear,
consigns them to Acestes' kindred care.
Then bids he sacrifice to Eryx' shade
three bulls, and to the wind-gods and the storm
a lamb, then loose the ships in order due.
He, with a garland of shorn olive, stood
holding aloft the sacrificial bowl
from his own vessel's prow, and scattered far
the sacred entrails o'er the bitter wave,
with gift of flowing wine. Swift at the stern
a fair wind rose and thrust them; while the crews
with rival strokes swept o'er the spreading sea.
Venus, the while, disturbed with grief and care,
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to Neptune thus her sorrowing heart outpoured:
“Stern Juno's wrath and breast implacable
compel me, Neptune, to abase my pride
in lowly supplication. Lapse of days,
nor prayers, nor virtues her hard heart subdue,
nor Jove's command; nor will she rest or yield
at Fate's decree. Her execrable grudge
is still unfed, although she did consume
the Trojan city, Phrygia's midmost throne,
and though she has accomplished stroke on stroke
of retribution. But she now pursues
the remnant—aye! the ashes and bare bones
of perished Ilium; though the cause and spring
of wrath so great none but herself can tell.
Wert thou not witness on the Libyan wave
what storm she stirred, immingling sea and sky,
and with Aeolian whirlwinds made her war, —
in vain and insolent invasion, sire,
of thine own realm and power? Behold, but now,
goading to evil deeds the Trojan dames,
she basely burned his ships; he in strange lands
must leave the crews of his Iost fleet behind.
O, I entreat thee, let the remnant sail
in safety o'er thy sea, and end their way
in Tiber's holy stream;—if this my prayer
