And with his dreadful thunders awes our minds,
Would whelm in fiery death this murderous prince.230
Strange portents have we seen: the comet dire,
Shining with baleful light, his glowing train
Far gleaming in the distant northern sky,
Where slow Boötes, numb with arctic frosts,
Directs his ponderous wagon's endless rounds.
The very air is tainted by the breath235
Of this destructive prince; and for his sake
The stars, resentful, threaten to destroy