could Juturna have apart from you?—should receive back his lost sword and the vanquished should feel new forces? At length have done, and let my prayers bow your will. Let this mighty sorrow cease to devour you in silence: let me hear sounds of sullen disquiet less often 5 from your lovely lips. The barrier has been reached. To toss the Trojans over land and sea, to kindle an unhallowed war, to plunge a home in mourning, to blend a dirge with the bridal song, this it has been yours to do: all further action I forbid." So spake Jupiter: and so in 10 return Saturn's daughter with downcast look: "Even because I knew, great Jove, that such was your pleasure, have I withdrawn against my will from Turnus and from earth: else you would not see me now in the solitude of my airy throne, exposed to all that comes, meet or unmeet: 15 armed with firebrands, I should stand in the very line of battle, and force the Teucrians into the hands of their foes. As for Juturna, I counselled her, I own, to succour her wretched brother, and warranted an unusual venture where life was at stake: but nought was said of 20 aiming the shaft or bending the bow: I swear by the inexpiable fountain-head of Styx, the one sanction that binds us powers above. And now I yield indeed, and quit this odious struggle. Yet there is a boon I would ask, a boon which destiny forefends not. I ask it for 25 the sake of Latium, for the dignity of your own people: when at last peace shall be ratified with a happy bridal, for happy let it be: when bonds of treaty shall be knit at last, let it not be thy will that the native Latians should change their ancient name, become Trojans or 30 take the Teucrian style: let not them alter their language or their garb. Let there be Latium still: let there be centuries of Alban kings: let there be a Roman stock, strong with the strength of Italian manhood: but let Troy be fallen as she is, name and nation alike." The 35 Father of men and nature answered with a smile: "Aye, you are Jove's own sister, the other branch of Saturn's line; such billows of passion surge in your bosom! but
