his lair?
Wrought we the wreck, when Ilion sank in gloom,
We, or the hands that urged poor Trojans to their doom?

XIV. "Was I the robber, who the war begun,
Whose theft in arms two continents arrayed,
When Europe clashed with Asia? I the one,
Who led the Dardan leman on his raid,
To storm the chamber of the Spartan maid?
Did I with lust the fatal strife sustain,
And fan the feud, and lend the Dardans aid?
_Then_ had thy fears been fitting; now in vain
Thy taunts are hurled; too late thou risest to complain."

XV. So pleaded Juno: the immortals all
On this and that side murmured their assent,
As new-born gales, that tell the coming squall,
Caught in the woods, their mingled moanings vent.
Then thus began the Sire omnipotent,
Who rules the universe, and as he rose,
Hush'd was the hall; Earth shook; the firmament
Was silent; whist was every wind that blows,
And o'er the calm deep spread the stillness of repose.

XVI. "Now hearken all, and to my words give heed.
Since naught avails this discord to allay,
And peace is hopeless, let the war proceed.
Trojans, Rutulians--each alike this day
Must carve his hopes and fortune as he may.
Fate, blindness, crooked counsels--whatso'er
Holds Troy in leaguer, equally I weigh
The chance of all, nor would Rutulians spare.
For each must toil and try, till Fate the doom declare."

XVII. He spake, and straightway, to confirm his word,
Invoked his brother, and the Stygian flood,
The pitchy whirlpool, and the banks abhorr'd,
Then bent his brow, and with his awful nod
Made all Olympus tremble at the god.
So ceased the council. From his throne of state,
All golden, he arose, and slowly trod
The courts of Heaven. The powers celestial wait
Around their sovereign Lord, and lead him to the gate.

XVIII. Now, fire in hand, and burning to destroy,
The fierce Rutulians still the siege maintain.
Pent in their ramparts stay the sons of Troy,
Hopeless of flight, and line the walls in vain,
A little band, but all that now remain.
Thymoetes, son of Hicetaon bold,
Asius, the son of Imbrasus, the twain
Assaraci, Castor and Thymbris old,
These, battling in the van, the desperate strife uphold.

XIX. Next stand the brethren of Sarpedon slain,
Claros and Themon,--braver Lycians none.
There, with a rock's huge fragment toils amain
Lyrnessi