CVI. "Nay, that I swear, and a dread oath will take
(The only oath that doth the high gods bind),
By that grim fount that feeds the Stygian lake.
And now, great Jove, reluctant, but resigned,
I yield, and leave the loathed fight behind.
One boon I ask, nor that in Fate's despite,
For Latium, for the honour of thy kind.
When—be it so—blest Hymen's pact they plight,		946
And laws and lasting league the warring folks unite,
CVII. "Ne'er let the children of the soil disown
The name of Latins; turn them not, I pray,
To Trojan folk, to be as Teucrians known.
Ne'er let Italia's children put away
The garb they wear, the language of to-day
Let Latium flourish, and abide the same,
And Alban kings through distant ages sway.
Let Rome through Latin prowess wax in fame;		955
But fall'n is Troy, and fall'n for ever be her name."
CVIII. Smiling, the founder of the world replied:
"Thou, second child of Saturn, born to reign
In heaven Jove's sister, and his spouse beside.
Such floods of passion can thy breast contain?
But come, and from thy fruitless rage refrain.
I yield, and gladly; be thy will obeyed.
Speech, customs, name Ausonia shall retain
Unchanged for ever, as thy lips have prayed.		964
And in the Latin race Troy's mingled blood shall fade.
CIX. "All Latins will I make them, of one tongue,
And sacred rites, as common good, assign.
Hence shalt thou see, from blood Ausonian sprung,
A blended race, whose piety shall shine
Excelling man's, and equalling divine;
And ne'er shall other nation tell so loud
Thy praise, or pay such homage to thy shrine."
Well-pleased was Juno, and assenting bowed,		973
And straight with altered mind ascended from the cloud.
CX. New schemes the Sire, from Turnus to repel
Juturna's aid, now ponders in his mind.
Two fiends there are, called Furies. Night with fell
Megæra bore them at one birth, and twined
Their serpent spires, and winged them like the wind.
These at Jove's threshold, and beside his throne
Await his summons, to afflict mankind,
When death or pestilence the Sire sends down,		982
Or shakes the world with war, and scares the guilty town.
CXI. One, for an omen, from the skies he sends,
To front Juturna. Down, with sudden spring,
To earth, as in a whirlwind, she descends.
As when a poisoned arrow from the string
Through clouds a Parthian launches on the wing,—
Parthian or Cretan—and in darkling flight
The shaft, with cureless venom in its sting,
Screams through the shadows; so, arrayed in might,		991
Swift to the earth came down the daughter of the Night.
CXII. But when Troy's host and Turnus' ranks were known,
Shrunk to the semblance of a bird in size,
Which oft on tombs or ruined roofs alone
Sits late at night, and with ill-omened cries
Vexes the darkness; so in dwarfed disguise
The foul fiend, shrieking around Turnus' head,
Flaps on his shield, and flutters o'er his eyes.
Strange torpor numbs the Daunian's limbs with dread;		1000
The stiffening hair stands up, and all his voice is dead.
CXIII. The rustling wings Juturna knew, and tore
Her comely face, and rent her scattered hair,
And smote her breast: "O cruel me! what more
For Turnus can a sister now? What care
Or craft thy days can lengthen? Can I dare
To face this fiend? At last, at last I go,
And quit the field. Foul birds, avaunt, nor scare
My fluttering soul. Too well the sounds of woe,		1009
Those beating wings,—too well great Jove's behest I know.
CXIV. "This for my robbed virginity? Ah, why
Did immortality the Sire bestow,
And grudge a mortal's privilege—to die?
Else, sure this moment could I end my woe,
And with my hapless brother pass below.
Immortal I? What joy hath aught beside,
Thou, Turnus, dead? Gape, Earth, and let me go,
A Goddess, to the shades!" She spake, and sighed,		1018
And, veiled in azure mantle, plunged beneath the tide.