But lo! from Argos on her voyage of airrides the dread spouse of Jove. She, sky-enthronedabove the far Sicilian promontory,pachynus, sees Dardania's rescued fleet,and all Aeneas' joy. The prospect showshouses a-building, lands of safe abode,and the abandoned ships. With bitter griefshe stands at gaze: then with storm-shaken brows,thus from her heart lets loose the wrathful word:“O hated race! O Phrygian destinies —to mine forevermore (unhappy me!)a scandal and offense! Did no one dieon Troy's embattled plain? Could captured slavesnot be enslaved again? Was Ilium's flameno warrior's funeral pyre? Did they walk safethrough serried swords and congregated fires?At last, methought, my godhead might repose,and my full-fed revenge in slumber lie.But nay! Though flung forth from their native land,I o'er the waves, with enmity unstayed,dared give them chase, and on that exiled fewhurled the whole sea. I smote the sons of Troy with ocean's power and heaven's. But what availedSyrtes, or Scylla, or Charybdis' waves?The Trojans are in Tiber; and abidewithin their prayed-for land delectable,safe from the seas and me! Mars once had powerthe monstrous Lapithae to slay; and Joveto Dian's honor and revenge gave o'erthe land of Calydon. What crime so foulwas wrought by Lapithae or Calydon?But I, Jove's wife and Queen, who in my woeshave ventured each bold stroke my power could find,and every shift essayed,—behold me nowoutdone by this Aeneas! If so weakmy own prerogative of godhead be,let me seek strength in war, come whence it will!If Heaven I may not move, on Hell I call.To bar him from his Latin throne exceedsmy fated power. So be it! Fate has givenLavinia for his bride. But long delaysI still can plot, and to the high eventdeferment and obstruction. I can smitethe subjects of both kings. Let sire and sonbuy with their people's blood this marriage-bond!Let Teucrian and Rutulian slaughter bethy virgin dower, and Bellona's blazelight thee the bridal bed! Not only teemedthe womb of Hecuba with burning brand,and brought forth nuptial fires; but Venus, too, such offspring bore, a second Paris, whoto their new Troy shall fatal wedlock bring.”

So saying, with aspect terrible she spedearthward her way; and called from gloom of hellAlecto, woeful power, from cloudy throneamong the Furies, where her heart is fedwith horrid wars, wrath, vengeance, treason foul,and fatal feuds. Her father Pluto loathesthe creature he engendered, and with hateher hell-born sister-fiends the monster view.A host of shapes she wears, and many a frontof frowning black brows viper-garlanded.Juno to her this goading speech addressed:“O daughter of dark Night, arouse for methy wonted powers and our task begin!Lest now my glory fail, my royal namebe vanquished, while Aeneas and his crewcheat with a wedlock bond the Latin Kingand seize Italia's fields. Thou canst thrust ontwo Ioving brothers to draw sword and slay,and ruin homes with hatred, calling inthe scourge of Furies and avenging fires.A thousand names thou bearest, and thy waysof ruin multiply a thousand-fold.Arouse thy fertile breast! Go, rend in twainthis plighted peace! Breed calumnies and sowcauses of battle, till yon warrior hostscry out for swords and leap to gird them on.”

Straightway Alecto, through whose body flowsthe Gorgon poison, took her viewless wayto Latium and the lofty walls and towersof the Laurentian King. Crouching she satein silence on the threshold of the bowerwhere Queen Amata in her fevered soulpondered, with all a woman's wrath and fear,upon the Trojans and the marriage-suitof Turnus. From her Stygian hair the fienda single serpent flung, which stole its wayto the Queen's very heart, that, frenzy-driven,she might on her whole house confusion pour.Betwixt her smooth breast and her robe it woundunfelt, unseen, and in her wrathful mindinstilled its viper soul. Like golden chainaround her neck it twined, or stretched alongthe fillets on her brow, or with her hairenwrithing coiled; then on from limb to limbslipped tortuous. Yet though the venom strongthrilled with its first infection every vein,and touched her bones with fire, she knew it not,nor yielded all her soul, but made her pleain gentle accents such as mothers use;and many a tear she shed, about her child,her darling, destined for a Phrygian's bride:“O father! can we give Lavinia's handto Trojan fugitives? why wilt thou showno mercy on thy daughter, nor thyself;nor unto me, whom at the first fair windthat wretch will leave deserted, bearing farupon his pirate ship my stolen child?Was it not thus that Phrygian shepherd cameto Lacedaemon, ravishing awayHelen, the child of Leda, whom he boreto those false Trojan lands? Hast thou forgotthy plighted word? Where now thy boasted loveof kith and kin, and many a troth-plight givenunto our kinsman Turnus? If we needan alien son, and Father Faunus' wordsirrevocably o'er thy spirit brood,I tell thee every land not linked with oursunder one sceptre, but distinct and free,is alien; and 't is thus the gods intend.Indeed, if Turnus' ancient race be told,it sprang of Inachus, Acrisius,and out of mid-Mycenae.” But she seesher lord Latinus resolute, her wordsan effort vain; and through her body spreadsthe Fury's deeply venomed viper-sting.Then, woe-begone, by dark dreams goaded on,she wanders aimless, fevered and unstrungalong the public ways; as oft one seesbeneath the twisted whips a leaping topsped in long spirals through a palace-closeby lads at play: obedient to the thong,it weaves wide circles in the gaping viewof its small masters, who admiring seethe whirling boxwood made a living thingunder their lash. So fast and far she rovedfrom town to town among the clansmen wild.Then to the wood she ran, feigning to feelthe madness Bacchus loves; for she essaysa fiercer crime, by fiercer frenzy moved.Now in the leafy dark of mountain valesshe hides her daughter, ravished thus awayfrom Trojan bridegroom and the wedding-feast.“Hail, Bacchus! Thou alone,” she shrieked and raved,“art worthy such a maid. For thee she bearsthe thyrsus with soft ivy-clusters crowned,and trips ecstatic in thy beauteous choir.For thee alone my daughter shall unbindthe glory of her virgin hair.” Swift runsthe rumor of her deed; and, frenzy-driven,the wives of Latium to the forests fly,enkindled with one rage. They leave behindtheir desolated hearths, and let rude windso'er neck and tresses blow; their voices fillthe welkin with convulsive shriek and wail;and, with fresh fawn-skins on their bodies bound,they brandish vine-clad spears. The Queen herselflifts high a blazing pine tree, while she singsa wedding-song for Turnus and her child.With bloodshot glance and anger wild, she cries:“Ho! all ye Latin wives, if e'er ye knewkindness for poor Amata, if ye carefor a wronged mother's woes, O, follow me!Cast off the matron fillet from your brows,and revel to our mad, voluptuous song.”Thus, through the woodland haunt of creatures wild,Alecto urges on the raging Queenwith Bacchus' cruel goad. But when she deemedthe edge of wrath well whetted, and the houseof wise Latinus of all reason reft,then soared the black-winged goddess to the wallsof the bold Rutule, to the city built(So runs the tale) by beauteous Danaeand her Acrisian people, shipwrecked thereby south wind strong. Its name was Ardea in language of our sires, and that proud nameof Ardea still it wears, though proud no more.Here Turnus in the gloom of midnight layhalf-sleeping in his regal hall. For himAlecto her grim fury-guise put by,and wore an old crone's face, her baleful browdelved deep with wrinkled age, her hoary hairin sacred fillet bound, and garlandedwith leaf of olive: Calybe she seemed,an aged servitress ot Juno's shrine,and in this seeming thus the prince addressed:—“O Turnus, wilt thou tamely see thy toillavished in vain? and thy true throne consignedto Trojan wanderers? The King repelsthy noble wooing and thy war-won dower.He summons him a son of alien stemto take his kingdom. Rouse thee now, and front,scorned and without reward, these perilous days.Tread down that Tuscan host! Protect the peaceof Latium from its foe! Such is the wordwhich, while in night and slumber thou wert laid,Saturnia's godhead, visibly revealed,bade me declare. Up, therefore, and arraythy warriors in arms! Swift sallying forthfrom thy strong city-gates, on to the frayexultant go! Assail the Phrygian chiefswho tent them by thy beauteous river's marge,and burn their painted galleys! 't is the willof gods above that speaks. Yea, even the KingLatinus, if he will not heed thy plea,or hear thy wooing, shall be taught too latewhat Turnus is in panoply of war.”

In mocking answer to the prophetessthe warrior thus replied: “That stranger fleetin Tiber moored, not, as thy folly prates,of me unnoted lies. Vex me no morewith thy fantastic terror. Juno's poweris watchful of my cause. 'T is mere old age,gone to decay and dotage, fills thy breastwith vain foreboding, and, while kings contend,scares and deceives thy visionary eye.Guard thou in yonder temple's holy shadethe images divine! Of peace and warlet men and warriors the burden bear!”

So kindled he Alecto's wrath to flame;and even as he spoke a shudder thrilledthe warrior's body, and his eyeballs stoodstonily staring at the hydra hairwhich hissed and writhed above the grisly headof the large-looming fiend. With eyes of firehorribly rolling, she repelled him far,while he but faltered speechless. She upraisedtwo coiling snakes out of her tresses, crackedthe lashes of her scourge, and wrathfully,with raving lips replied: “Look well on me,gone to decay and dotage of old age!And mocked with foolish fear while kings contend!Wilt hearken now! Behold me, hither flownfrom where my sister-furies dwell! My handsbring bloody death and war.” She spoke, and hurledher firebrand at the hero, thrusting deepbeneath his heart her darkly smouldering flame.Then horror broke his sleep, and fearful sweatdripped from his every limb. He shrieked aloudfor arms; and seized the ready arms that layaround his couch and hall. Then o'er his soulthe lust of battle and wild curse of warbroke forth in angry power, as when the flamesof faggots round the bubbling cauldron sing,and up the waters leap; the close-kept floodbrims over, streaming, foaming, breaking bound,and flings thick clouds in air. He, summoninghis chieftains, bade them on Latinus move,break peace, take arms, and, over Italy their shields extending, to thrust forth her foe:himself for Teucrian with Latin joinedwas more than match. He called upon the godsin witness of his vows: while, nothing loth,Rutulia's warriors rushed into array;some by his youth and noble beauty moved,some by his kingly sires and fame in arms.