Presumptuous winds, begone, / and take your king this message, that the sway / of Ocean and the sceptre and the throne / Fate gave to me, not him; the trident is my own."

And suddenly he appeared with a trident in his hand.

So, when the tempest bursting wakes the war, / the justling winds in conflict rave and roar, / South, West and East upon his orient car, / the lashed woods howl, and with his trident hoar / Nereus in foam upheaves the watery floor.

She stabbed him with a golden trident.

Triton, Cymothoe from the rock's sharp brow / push off the vessels. Neptune plies amain / his trident-lever, lays the sandbanks low, / on light wheels shaves the deep, and calms the billowy flow.

Here, where thou seest the riven piles o'erthrown, / mixt dust and smoke, rock torn from rock away, / great Neptune's trident shakes the bulwarks down, / and from its lowest base uproots the trembling town."