“For the end of war is in hands, but of words in council; wherefore, let us not multiply words, but fight!” The dog who barks loudest is least inclined to bite, or, as the German proverb has it: “Die grossen marterhausen sind nicht die besten kriegsleut.” I may add here Suidas’s excellent derivation of Arês Ἄρης, the Greek name of Mars--from α, _non_, and ῥέειν, _dicere_, because in war not words but blows are needed. XXV. “--Save when the cannon flashed To send grim death rimbombing from its womb.” The word _rimbombar_, signifying “to resound terrifically,” especially as applied to thunder and discharges of artillery, is a very forcible specimen of onomatopœia, and is common to the Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese; I have therefore ventured to adopt it into the English language. Tasso uses the word with fine effect in one of his most celebrated passages:-- Treman le spaziose atre caverne, E l’aer cieco a quel romor rimbomba. _Ger. Lib._ iv. 3. XXVII. “Threw clustering sparkles swift as Brontes poured ’Gainst Steropes whilst Ætna’s forges roared.” Antra Ætnæa tonant, validique incudibus ictus.... Ferrum exercebant vasto Cyclopes in antro, Brontesque, Steropesque, et nudus membra Pyracmon. Virg. _Æn._ viii. 419. Virgil’s treatment of his subject, the forging of the armour of Æneas, presents a curious contrast to Homer’s treatment of the forging of the armour of Achilles. Vulcan is the agent in both cases, but in the simple patriarchal era of Homer he is made to do it all himself, with the assistance only of “twenty pairs of bellows:”-- Φῦσαι δ’ ἐν χοάνοισιν ἐείκοσι πᾶσαι ἐφύσων. The more refined contemporary of Augustus makes the Cyclops perform the porters’ work, and Vulcan merely look on. XXXIV. “The rampant lions spurning Gallic chain!” “Publica” respondit, “cura est pro mœnibus istis” Juppiter: et pœnas Gallia victa dabit. Ovid. _Fast._ vi. 377. IBERIA WON. Canto V. I. Oh human hearts, that nurture fond designs, While shattering Fate his iron moulds doth fill! Oh, loving breasts unwarned by direst signs, The present joy-burst blindly hugging still! Impregnable redoubt of Human Will! Less strong than thine is San Sebastian’s wall. The ruin-clinging ivy Time can kill, But not avert thy worship from its thrall, Till comes the destined hour, and instant bids thee fall! II.