So with speed The mounted Trojans to their prince repair, Pleased with the gifts and words, for peaceful news they bear.
XXXIX.

Lo! from Inachian Argos through the skies Jove's consort her avenging flight pursues, And far off, from Pachynus, as she flies O'er Sicily, beholds the Dardan crews And great AEneas, gladdening at the news.
The rising settlement, the new-tilled shore, The ships deserted for the land she views, And shaking her imperial brows, and sore With anguish, from her breast these wrathful words doth pour: XL.

"Ah, hateful race! Ah, Phrygian fates abhorred! What, fell they not on the Sigean plain?
Must captives be twice captured?
Have the sword And flames of Troy avenged me but in vain?
Have foes and fire found passage for the slain?
Sooth, then, my godhead sleepeth, and that hand Is tired of hate, which whilom o'er the main Dared chase these outcasts and their paths withstand, Where'er the deep sea rolled, far from their native land! XLI.

"Have sea and sky been wielded to destroy, Nor Syrtes yet, nor Scylla's fierce embrace, Nor vast Charybdis whelmed the sons of Troy, Who, safe in Tiber, flout me to the face?
Yet Mars from earth, and for a less disgrace Could sweep the Lapithae, and Heaven's great Sire Doomed ancient Calydon and OEneus' race To rue the vengeance of Diana's ire.
Did ever crime of theirs the Dardans' meed require?
XLII.

"But I, Jove's consort, who have stooped to seek All shifts, all ventures and devices, I Am vanquished by AEneas! If too weak Myself, some other godhead will I try, And Hell shall hear, if Heaven its aid deny.
Grant that these Dardans must in Latium reign, That fixt and changeless stands the doom, whereby His bride shall be Lavinia, that in vain Can Juno thwart whate'er the Destinies ordain; XLIII.