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Think you 'twas right a god decreed
By mortal treachery should bleed,
Or Turnus—for apart from you
What mischief could Juturna do?—
Receive his long lost sword again,
And strength be waked in vanquished men?
'Tis Jove entreats: at length give way;
Permit my prayers your will to sway;
Nor brood in silent grief, nor vent
From those sweet lips your ill-content.
The end is reached. By land and main
I let you vex the Dardan train,
Stir guilty war, a home o'ercloud,
And bridal joys with mourning shroud.
Attempt no further.' Jove's fair queen
Bespoke her spouse with duteous mien:

'Your known good pleasure is the cause,
Dread lord, that Juno now withdraws
From Turnus and the fight;
You would not see me else in air
Content to sit resigned and bear:
No; armed with torches should I stand
In battle, and with red right hand
My Trojan foemen smite.
I roused, I own, Juturna's zeal
To venture for her brother's weal:
Yet bade I not to launch the steel
Or bend the deadly bow:
By Styx' dire spring I take my oath,
The sole dread form of solemn troth
Olympus' tenants know.
And now in truth behold me yield
And quit for aye the accursed field.