ancestral valour and to manly spirit?’ Such words she poured forth weeping, and was vainly raising a long lament, when the hero Helenus, Priam’s son, draws near from the city with a great company.

He knows us for his kin, joyfully leads us to the gates, and freely pours forth tears at every word. I advance, and recognize a little Troy, with a copy of great Pergamus, and a dry brook that takes its named from Xanthus, and embrace the portals of a Scaean gate. No less, too, my Teucrians enjoy with me the friendly city. The king welcomed them amid broad colonnades; in the centre of the hall they poured libations of wine and held the bowls, while the feast was serve on gold.

“And now day after day has passed; the breezes call to the sails, and the canvas fills with the