ce of mist and
empty air; thou canst turn his fleet into nymphs of like number: is it
dreadful if we retaliate with any aid to the Rutulians? Aeneas is away
and ignorant; away and ignorant let him be. Paphos is thine and Idalium,
thine high Cythera; why meddlest thou with fierce spirits and a city big
with war? Is it we who would overthrow the tottering state of Phrygia?
we? or he who brought the Achaeans down on the hapless Trojans? who made
Europe and Asia bristle up in arms, and whose theft shattered the
alliance? Was it in my guidance the [92-125]adulterous Dardanian broke
into Sparta? or did I send the shafts of passion that kindled war? Then
terror for thy children had graced thee; too late now dost thou rise
with unjust complaints, and reproaches leave thy lips in vain.'

Thus Juno pleaded; and all the heavenly people murmured in diverse
consent; even as rising gusts murmur when caught in the forests, and
eddy in blind moanings, betraying to sailors the gale's approach. Then
the Lord omnipotent and primal power of the world begins; as he speaks
the high house of the gods and trembling floor of earth sink to silence;
silent is the deep sky, and the breezes are stilled; ocean hushes his
waters into calm.

'Take then to heart and lay deep these words of mine. Since it may not
be that Ausonians and Teucrians join alliance, and your quarrel finds no
term, to-day, what fortune each wins, what hope each follows, be he
Trojan or Rutulian, I will hold in even poise; whether it be Italy's
fate or Trojan blundering and ill advice that holds the camp in leaguer.
Nor do I acquit the Rutulians. Each as he hath begun shall work out his
destiny. Jupiter is one and king over all; the fates will find their
way.' By his brother's infernal streams, by the banks of the pitchy
black-boiling chasm he signed assent, and made all Olympus quiver at his
nod. Here speaking ended: thereon Jupiter rises from his golden throne,
and the heavenly people surround and escort him to the doorway.

Meanwhile the Rutulians press round all the gates, dealing grim
slaughter and girdling the walls with flame. But the army of the
Aeneadae are held leaguered within their trenches, with no hope of
retreat. They stand helpless and disconsolate on their high towers, and
their thin ring girdles the walls,--Asius, son of Imbrasus, and
Thymoetes, son of Hicetaon, and the two Assaraci, and Castor, and old
Thymbris together in the front rank: by them Clarus and