Note 192 — BOOK VIII.

His golden scales. “Jove now, sole arbiter of peace and war, Held forth the fatal balance from afar: Each host he weighs; by turns they both prevail, Till Troy descending fix’d the doubtful scale.” Merrick’s Tryphiodorus, v 687, sqq. “Oh’ Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray, Hung forth in heav’n his golden scales, Wherein all things created first he weighed; The pendulous round earth, with balanced air In counterpoise; now ponders all events, Battles and realms. In these he puts two weights, The sequel each of parting and of fight: The latter quick up flew, and kick’d the beam.” “Paradise Lost,” iv. 496.