shore arises a mighty wail, embracing one another, they linger a night and a day. Now the very mothers, the very men to whom once the face of the sea seemed cruel and its power intolerable, are ready to go out and bear all toil of exile.

These good Aeneas comforts with kindly words, and commends with tears to his kinsman Acestes. Then he bids slay three steers to Eryx and a lamb to the Tempests, and duly loose the moorings. He himself, with temples bound in leaves of trimmed olive, standing apart on the prow, holds the cup, flings the entrails into the salt flood, and pours the liquid wine. A wind, rising astern, attends them on their way. With rival strokes his comrades lash the sea and sweep the waters.

But Venus meanwhile, distressed with cares, speaks thus to Neptune, and from her heart pours out her plaint: