Warfare I sing of and the war-made man from Troy; that first one, the Fates' refugee, who from shores of his birth bound for Italy reached Lavinia's beaches. How battered he was over the hard of the land, over high deep seas by violence on high as vicious Juno remembered him in immortal rage; Much too he suffered of sorrow and battle to found a city, settling his gods in the land of Latium; whence the Latin race, the Alban lords, and lofty Rome's walls. O Muse, make me now remember the causes. What almighty pride was pierced? What deep grievance so harrowed the gods' high queen that she forced a man famously righteous to weather in god-fear such wuthering ordeals, to face such labors? Can loathing so great Truly sputter in the spirits of heaven?