§7.325infernisque ciet tenebris, cui tristia bella §7.326iraeque insidiaeque et crimina noxia cordi. §7.327Odit et ipse pater Pluton, odere sorores §7.328Tartareae monstrum: tot sese vertit in ora, §7.329tam saevae facies, tot pullulat atra colubris. §7.330Quam Iuno his acuit verbis ac talia fatur: §7.331Hunc mihi da proprium, virgo sata Nocte, laborem, §7.332hanc operam, ne noster honos infractave cedat §7.333fama loco, neu conubiis ambire Latinum §7.334Aeneadae possint Italosve obsidere finis. §7.335Tu potes unanimos armare in proelia fratres §7.336atque odiis versare domos, tu verbera tectis §7.337funereasque inferre faces, tibi nomina mille, §7.338mille nocendi artes.
And she rouses from the infernal darkness one to whose heart sad wars, angers, intrigues, and harmful crimes are dear. Father Pluto himself hates her, and her Tartarean sisters hate the monster: into so many faces does she turn herself, so savage are her shapes, and so black does she swarm with serpents. Juno whetted her with these words and spoke thus: 'Grant me this peculiar labor, virgin born of Night, this task, lest our honor or shattered fame yield its place, nor let the sons of Aeneas be able to win over Latinus with marriages or besiege the Italian borders. You are able to arm brothers of one mind for battle and overturn houses with hatred; you can bring whips into homes and deadly torches; you have a thousand names, a thousand arts of doing harm.
Fecundum concute pectus, §7.339disice compositam pacem, sere crimina belli: §7.340arma velit poscatque simul rapiatque inventus. §7.341Exin Gorgoneis Allecto infecta venenis §7.342principio Latium et Laurentis tecta tyranni §7.343celsa petit tacitumque obsedit limen Amatae, §7.344quam super adventu Teucrum Turnique hymenaeis §7.345femineae ardentem curaeque iraeque coquebant. §7.346Huic dea caeruleis unum de crinibus anguem §7.347conicit inque sinum praecordia ad intuma subdit, §7.348quo furibunda domum monstro permisceat omnem. §7.349Ille inter vestes et levia pectora lapsus §7.350volvitur attactu nullo fallitque furentem, §7.351vipeream inspirans animam: fit tortile collo §7.352aurum ingens coluber, fit longae taenia vittae §7.353innectitque comas, et membris lubricus errat. §7.354Ac dum prima lues udo sublapsa veneno §7.355pertemptat sensus atque ossibus implicat ignem §7.356necdum animus toto percepit pectore flammam, §7.357mollius et solito matrum de more locuta est, §7.358multa super nata lacrimans Phrygiisque hymenaeis: §7.359Exsulibusne datur ducenda Lavinia Teucris, §7.360O genitor, nec te miseret gnataeque tuique? §7.361Nec matris miseret, quam primo aquilone relinquet §7.362perfidus alta petens abducta virgine praedo? §7.363An non sic Phrygius penetrat Lacedaemona pastor §7.364Ledaeamque Helenam Troianas vexit ad urbes? §7.365Quid tua sancta fides, quid cura antiqua tuorum
Shake your fertile breast, shatter the settled peace, sow the seeds of war: let the youth wish for, demand, and seize arms at once.' Thereupon Allecto, infected with Gorgonian poisons, first seeks Latium and the lofty palace of the Laurentine tyrant and beset the silent threshold of Amata, whom, burning with womanly cares and angers, the arrival of the Trojans and the marriage of Turnus were troubling. Upon her the goddess casts a single snake from her dark-blue locks and thrusts it into her bosom to her innermost heart, that, driven mad by the monster, she might throw the whole house into confusion. It, gliding between her garments and smooth breast, rolls with no touch and deceives the raging woman, breathing its viperish breath: the huge serpent becomes the twisted gold about her neck, becomes the band of her long fillet, and entwines her hair, and wanders slippery over her limbs. And while the first plague, gliding in with liquid venom, pervades her senses and wraps fire around her bones, and before her mind has felt the flame throughout her breast, she spoke more softly and after the usual manner of mothers, weeping much over her daughter and the Phrygian marriage: 'Is Lavinia to be given to be led away by exiled Trojans, O father, and have you no pity for your daughter and yourself? And have you no pity for her mother, whom with the first north wind the treacherous pirate will leave, seeking the deep, having carried off the virgin? Did not the Phrygian shepherd thus penetrate Lacedaemon and carry off Leda's Helen to the Trojan cities? What of your sacred faith?
§7.366et consanguineo totiens data dextera Turno? §7.367Si gener externa petitur de gente Latinis §7.368idque sedet Faunique premunt te iussa parentis, §7.369omnem equidem sceptris terram quae libera nostris §7.370dissidet, externam reor et sic dicere divos. §7.371Et Turno, si prima domus repetatur origo, §7.372Inachus Acrisiusque patres mediaeque Mycenae. §7.373His ubi nequiquam dictis experta Latinum §7.374contra stare videt penitusque in viscera lapsum §7.375serpentis furiale malum totamque pererrat, §7.376tum vero infelix, ingentibus excita monstris, §7.377immensam sine more furit lymphata per urbem. §7.378Ceu quondam torto volitans sub verbere turbo, §7.379quem pueri magno in gyro vacua atria circum §7.380intenti ludo exercent; ille actus habena §7.381curvatis fertur spatiis; stupet inscia supra §7.382inpubesque manus, mirata volubile buxum; §7.383dant animos plagae: non cursu segnior illo §7.384per medias urbes agitur populosque feroces. §7.385Quin etiam in silvas, simulato numine Bacchi, §7.386maius adorta nefas maioremque orsa furorem §7.387evolat et natam frondosis montibus abdit, §7.388quo thalamum eripiat Teucris taedasque moretur, §7.389Euhoe Bacche, fremens, solum te virgine dignum §7.390vociferans, etenim mollis tibi sumere thyrsos, §7.391te lustrare choro, sacrum tibi pascere crinem. §7.392Fama volat, furiisque accensas pectore matres §7.393idem omnis simul ardor agit nova quaerere tecta: §7.394deseruere domos, ventis dant colla comasque, §7.395ast aliae tremulis ululatibus aethera complent, §7.396pampineasque gerunt incinctae pellibus hastas; §7.397ipsa inter medias flagrantem fervida pinum §7.398sustinet ac natae Turnique canit hymenaeos, §7.399sanguineam torquens aciem, torvumque repente §7.400clamat:
Io matres, audite, ubi quaeque, Latinae: §7.401Siqua piis animis manet infelicis Amatae §7.402gratia, si iuris materni cura remordet, §7.403solvite crinalis vittas, capite orgia mecum. §7.404Talem inter silvas, inter deserta ferarum, §7.405reginam Allecto stimulis agit undique Bacchi. §7.406Postquam visa satis primos acuisse furores
What of your ancient care for your own, and your right hand so often given to Turnus, your kinsman? If a son-in-law is sought for the Latins from a foreign nation, and that is resolved, and the commands of your father Faunus press upon you, I indeed regard every land which, free, is separate from our sceptres as foreign, and that the gods speak thus. And for Turnus, if the first origin of his house be traced back, Inachus and Acrisius are his ancestors, and the heart of Mycenae is his home.' When with these words she sees that she has tried in vain and that Latinus stands opposed, and when the serpent's maddening evil, having glided deep into her vitals, pervades her entire being, then indeed, unhappy, excited by the monstrous horrors, she rages boundless and frantic through the city without restraint. As sometimes a top, flying under the twisted whip, which boys in a great circle around the empty courtyards drive, intent on the game; driven by the lash, it is carried in curving courses; the ignorant and youthful crowd stands amazed above, marveling at the spinning boxwood; the blows give it life: no slower than that course is she driven through the midst of cities and fierce peoples. Nay, even into the woods, feigning the inspiration of Bacchus, having attempted a greater crime and begun a greater madness, she flies out and hides her daughter in the leafy mountains, that she might snatch the marriage from the Trojans and delay the torches, shouting 'Evoe Bacchus!', crying out that 'you alone are worthy of the virgin, since for you she takes up the soft thyrsus, to you she dances in the chorus, and for you she nurtures her sacred hair.' The rumor flies, and the same ardor drives all the mothers at once, inflamed in their breasts with madness, to seek new dwellings: they abandoned their homes, they gave their necks and hair to the winds; but others fill the air with trembling wailings, and, clad in skins, they carry vine-wreathed spears; she herself, burning in the midst, holds aloft a blazing pine and sings the marriage of her daughter and Turnus, rolling her bloodshot eyes, and suddenly she fiercely cries: 'Hear, O Latin mothers, wherever you are: if any regard for unhappy Amata remains in your pious souls, if any care for a mother's right stings you, untie the headbands from your hair, begin the mysteries with me.' Such was the queen whom Allecto, among the woods, among the deserts of wild beasts, drives on every side with the goads of Bacchus. After she seemed to have sufficiently sharpened the first madness,