But the matrons are flying in panic along the coast, now
here, now there, stealing to the thickest woods and the
deepest caves. They loathe the deed and the daylight.
Sobered, they know their friends again, and Juno is exorcised 35
from their souls. But not for all this will blaze and
burning resign their unslaked powers: deep among the
moistened timber smoulders the quick tow, discharging
a slow lazy smoke: the crawling heat preys on the keels,
and the plague sinks down into the vessel’s every limb,
and strength of giant warriors and streaming water-floods