Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/375

Ascanius and his leaguered train
Take heart, and issue on the plain,
And leave their camp behind.

Then Jove addressed the spouse of Jove:
'Sweet sister mine and wedded love,
Who now will do your judgment wrong?
'Tis Venus makes these Trojans strong,
Not those vain powers they deem are theirs,
The hand that strikes, the soul that dares.'
'Ah why,' she answered, 'gracious Sire,
Torment a heart that fears your ire?
Had I the power I owned erewhile,
The power that suits my queenly style,
I then had moved your will
That Turnus, rescued from the strife,
Should yet enjoy his precious life,
And bless old Daunus still.
Now let him die, though just and good,
And glut his foes with guiltless blood.
Yet from our race he draws his name;
From old Pilumnus' loins he came;
And altars, crowned with offerings fair,
Attest his worth and claim your care.'
To whom in brief thus made reply
The ruler of the etherial sky:
'If all for Turnus you would crave
Be respite from an open grave,
And so my mind you read,
Let the doomed youth have space to fly
And scape awhile his destiny:
So much may Jove concede:
But know, if 'neath your prayer you hide
Some deeper, larger boon beside,
And think to change the war's set tide,
'Tis empty hope you feed.'