“Will not some god, O Father Jove, put forth His power to save me in my hour of need From this fierce river? Any fate but this I am resigned to suffer. None of all The immortal ones is more in fault than she To whom I owe my birth; her treacherous words Deluded me to think that I should fall Beneath the walls of Troy by the swift shafts Of Phoebus. Would that Hector, the most brave Of warriors reared upon the Trojan soil, Had slain me; he had slain a brave man then, And a brave man had stripped me of my arms. But now it is my fate to perish, caught In this great river, like a swineherd’s boy, Who in the time of rains attempts to pass A torrent, and is overwhelmed and drowned.”

He spake, and Neptune and Minerva came Quickly and stood beside him. In the form Of men they came, and took his hand, and cheered His spirit with their words. And thus the god Neptune, who makes the earth to tremble, said:⁠—