are all of no avail. Then good Æneas began to tear his
raiment from his back and call the gods for aid, and raise 5
his hands in prayer: “Jove Almighty, if thy hate would
not yet sweep off the whole Trojan race to a man, if thy
ancient goodness has yet any regard for human suffering,
grant the fleet to escape from flame now, Father, even now,
and rescue from death the shattered commonweal of Troy. 10
Or else do thou with thy wrathful bolt send down this
poor remnant to the grave, if that is my fit reward, and
here with thy own right hand overwhelm us all.” Scarce