e come.'

Such words he utters, and sick with deep distress he feigns hope on his
face, and keeps his anguish hidden deep in his breast. The others set to
the spoil they are to feast upon, tear chine from ribs and lay bare the
flesh; some cut it into pieces and pierce it still quivering with spits;
others plant cauldrons on the beach and feed them with flame. Then they
repair their strength with food, and lying along the grass take their
fill of old wine and fat venison. After hunger is driven from the
banquet, and the board cleared, they talk with lingering regret of their
lost companions, swaying between hope and fear, whether they may believe
them yet alive, or now in their last agony and deaf to mortal call. Most
does good Aeneas inly wail the loss now of valiant Orontes, now of
Amycus, the cruel doom of Lycus, of brave Gyas, and brave Cloanthus.
[223-254]And now they ceased; when from the height of air Jupiter
looked down on the sail-winged sea and outspread lands, the shores and
broad countries, and looking stood on the cope of heaven, and cast down
his eyes on the realm of Libya. To him thus troubled at heart Venus, her
bright eyes brimming with tears, sorrowfully speaks:

'O thou who dost sway mortal and immortal things with eternal command
and the terror of thy thunderbolt, how can my Aeneas have transgressed
so grievously against thee? how his Trojans? on whom, after so many
deaths outgone, all the world is barred for Italy's sake. From them
sometime in the rolling years the Romans were to arise indeed; from them
were to be rulers who, renewing the blood of Teucer, should hold sea and
land in universal lordship. This thou didst promise: why, O father, is
thy decree reversed? This was my solace for the wretched ruin of sunken
Troy, doom balanced against doom. Now so many woes are spent, and the
same fortune still pursues them; Lord and King, what limit dost thou set
to their agony? Antenor could elude the encircling Achaeans, could
thread in safety the Illyrian bays and inmost realms of the Liburnians,
could climb Timavus' source, whence through nine mouths pours the
bursting tide amid dreary moans of the mountain, and covers the fields
with hoarse waters. Yet here did he set Patavium town, a dwelling-place
for his Teucrians, gave his name to a nation and hung up the armour of
Troy; now settled in peace, he rests and is in quiet. We, thy children,
we whom thou beckonest to the heights of heaven, our fleet miser