them with flame. Then with food they recall their
strength, and, stretched along the turf, feast on old wine
and fat venison to their hearts’ content. Their hunger
sated by the meal, and the boards removed, they vent in 5
long talk their anxious yearning for their missing comrades—balanced
between hope and fear, whether to
think of them as alive, or as suffering the last change, and
deaf already to the voice that calls on them. But good
Æneas’ grief exceeds the rest; one moment he groans for 10
bold Orontes’ fortune, another for Amycus’, and in the