banks that seethe with pitch and are washed by the
murky torrent, he nodded confirmation, and with his nod
made all Olympus tremble. So ended their debate.
Then from his golden throne rises Jove, and the immortals
gathering round him usher him to his chamber. 30
Meantime the Rutulians press round each and all of the
gates, eager to slaughter the soldiery and belt the ramparts
with flame. But Æneas’ army is hemmed within the
leaguered encampment, without hope of escape. In unavailing
wretchedness they stand guarding the turret’s 35