alarm, shaking out his blazing hair and quenching the 10
sacred fire with water from the spring—but Anchises
my father raised his eyes in ecstasy to heaven, directing
hand and voice to the stars: ‘Almighty Jove, if any
prayer can bow thy will, look down on us—’tis all I crave—and
if our piety have earned requital, grant us thy 15
succour, father, and ratify the omen we now see.’ Scarce
had the old man spoken, when there came a sudden peal
of thunder on the left, and a star fell from heaven and
swept through the gloom with a torchlike train and a