Note (return) — BOOK THE TWENTY-FIRST.

“O father Jove, how does none of the gods undertake to save me, miserable, from the river! Hereafter, indeed, I would suffer anything. 682 But no other of the heavenly inhabitants is so culpable to me as my mother, who soothed me with falsehoods, and said that I should perish by the fleet arrows of Apollo, under the wall of the armed Trojans. Would that Hector had slain me, who here was nurtured the bravest; then a brave man would he have slain, and have despoiled a brave man. But now it is decreed that I be destroyed by an inglorious death, overwhelmed in a mighty river, like a swine-herd’s boy, whom, as he is fording it, the torrent overwhelms in wintry weather.”