and stratagems, and injurious crimes cheer like a cordial.
Hateful even to Pluto her sire is the fiend, hateful to her 30
Tartarean sisters, so many the forms she puts on, so terrible
the mien of each, so countless the vipers that burgeon
blackly from her head. Her, thus dreadful, Juno lashes
to fiercer fury, speaking on this wise: “Grant me, maiden
daughter of Night, a boon all my own—thine undivided 35
aid, that my praise and renown may not be dashed from
their pedestal—that the children of Æneas may not be
able to ensnare Latinus in a bridal alliance or beset the