"Yet time delayed can make occasion lost, Yet mutual strife each nation may devour, And Kings plight marriage at their peoples' cost.
Troy's blood and Latium's, maiden, be thy dower.
Bellona lights thee to thy bridal bower.
Not only Hecuba--Ah, sweet the joy!-- Conceives a firebrand.

Born in evil hour, The child of Venus shall her hopes destroy, And, like another Paris, fire a new-born Troy." XLIV.

She spake, and earthward darting, fierce and fell, Calls sad Alecto from her dark retreat Among the Furies in the shades of Hell.
Sweet are war's sorrows to her soul, and sweet Are evil deeds, and hatred and deceit.
E'en Pluto, e'en her sister-fiends detest The monstrous shape, so many forms complete The grisly horrors of that hateful pest, So many a coal-black snake sprouts from her threatening crest.
XLV.

Her Juno finds, and thus new rage inspires: "Grant, virgin daughter of eternal Night, This boon, the labour that thy soul desires.
Lest here my fame and honour lose their might, And Troy gain Italy, and craft unite Troy's prince with Latium's heiress.

Thou can'st turn Fond hearts to feuds, and brethren arm for fight.
Thou know'st, for savage is thy mood and stern, To breed domestic strife and happy homes to burn.
XLVI.