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the throng of gods with voices loud or low
gave various reply: as gathering winds
sing through the tree-tops in dark syllables,
and fling faint murmur on the far-off sea,
to tell some pilot of to-morrow's storm.
Then Jupiter omnipotent, whose hands
have governance supreme, began reply;
deep silence at his word Olympus knew,
Earth's utmost cavern shook; the realms of light
were silent; the mild zephyrs breathed no more,
and perfect calm o'erspread the levelled sea.
“Give ear, ye gods, and in your hearts record
my mandate and decree. Fate yet allows
no peace 'twixt Troy and Italy, nor bids
your quarrel end. Therefore, what Chance this day
to either foe shall bring, whatever hope
either may cherish,—the Rutulian cause
and Trojan have like favor in my eyes.
The destinies of Italy constrain
the siege; which for the fault of Troy fulfills
an oracle of woe. Yon Rutule host
I scatter not. But of his own attempt
let each the triumph and the burden bear;
for Jove is over all an equal King.
The Fates will find the way.” The god confirmed
his sentence by his Stygian brother's wave,
the shadowy flood and black, abysmal shore.
He nodded; at the bending of his brow
Olympus shook. It is the council's end.
Now from the golden throne uprises Jove;
the train of gods attend him to the doors.
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