This, so it seems, was what I had to hope for Ever since that first moment of my madness When I took steel in hand and wounded Venus. No, no; do not invite me to such battles. The walls of Troy have fallen; I have no quarrel With any Trojans any more. Those evils I have forgotten, or, if I remember, I find no pleasure in them. Take Aeneas The gifts you bring me from your native country. I have stood up against his terrible weapons, I have fought him hand to hand. Believe an expert, Take it from one who knows, how huge he rises Above that shield of his, with what a whirlwind He rifles out that spear. If Troy had only Two other men as good, Greece would be mourning With doom the other way, and the towns of Argos Admit the conqueror. For ten long years They kept us waiting at that stubborn city, And the Greek victory was at a standstill Through Hector and Aeneas; both were famous In spirit, both in feats of arms, Aeneas The more devoted man. I tell you, join them In treaty, on what terms you can. I warn you, Beware, beware, of facing them in battle.’ So you have heard, great king, Diomede’s answer And what he thinks of this great war.” The sound Rose, as he ended, like the sound of water When rocks delay a flood, and the banks re-echo The stir and protest of the angry river, Confusion, argument, in swirl and eddy,-- So the Ausonians brawled among each other, Muttered, and then subsided; and king Latinus Spoke from his lofty throne:--“I wish, O Latins, Decision had been taken in such matters A long while since; that would have been much better. This is no time for councils to be summoned. The enemy is at the gate. We are waging A most unhappy war against a people Descended from the gods; we cannot beat them. No battles wear them down; if they are conquered, They cannot let the sword fall from the hand. Whatever hope you had in Diomede, Forget it. All your hope is what you are, But you can see how little that amounts to. You have it all before your eyes; you have it In your own hands, and most of it is ruin. I lay no blame on any man; what valor Could do, it has done: the body of our kingdom Has fought with all its strength. We are bled to the white. Hear, then, what I propose; I am not yet certain Entirely--here it is, in brief. We have An ancient tract of land, far to the west, Touching the Tuscan river, where our natives, Rutulians, Auruncans, sow and harrow The stubborn hills, rough land and cattle country. Let all this region and its high pine-forest Be ceded to the Trojans out of friendship; Let us make fair terms and have them share our kingdom. Here they may build and settle if they want to.