by turns, flight unthought of both by these and by those.
The gods in Jove’s palace look pityingly on the idle rage 25
of the warring hosts—alas, that death-doomed men
should suffer so terribly! Here Venus sits spectator,
there over against her Saturnian Juno. Tisiphone, ashy
pale, is raving among thousands down below. But see!
Mezentius, shaking his giant spear, is striding into the 30
field, an angry presence. Think of the stature of Orion,
as he overtops the billows with his shoulders, when he
stalks on foot through the very heart of Nereus’ mighty