Aeneis
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
12.1.1
When Turnus marks how much the Latins quail
12.1.2
in adverse war, how on himself they call
12.1.3
to keep his pledge, and with indignant eyes
12.1.4
gaze all his way, fierce rage implacable
12.1.5
swells his high heart. As when on Libyan plain
12.1.6
a lion, gashed along his tawny breast
12.1.7
by the huntsman's grievous thrust, awakens him
12.1.8
unto his last grim fight, and gloriously
12.1.9
shaking the great thews of his maned neck,
12.1.10
shrinks not, but crushes the despoiler's spear
12.1.11
with blood-sprent, roaring mouth,—not less than so
12.1.12
burns the wild soul of Turnus and his ire.
12.1.13
Thus to the King he spoke with stormful brow:
12.1.14
“The war lags not for Turnus' sake. No cause
12.1.15
constrains the Teucrian cowards and their King
12.1.16
to eat their words and what they pledged refuse.
12.1.17
On his own terms I come. Bring forward, sire,
12.1.18
the sacrifice, and seal the pact I swear:
12.1.19
either to deepest hell this hand shall fling
12.1.20
yon Trojan runaway—the Latins all
12.1.21
may sit at ease and see!—and my sole sword
12.1.22
efface the general shame; or let him claim
12.1.23
the conquest, and Lavinia be his bride.”
12.18.24
To him Latinus with unruffled mind
12.18.25
thus made reply: “O youth surpassing brave!
12.18.26
The more thy sanguinary valor burns
12.18.27
beyond its wont, the more with toilsome care
12.18.28
I ponder with just fear what chance may fall,
12.18.29
weighing it well. Thy father Daunus' throne,
12.18.30
and many a city by thy sword subdued,
12.18.31
are still thy own. Latinus also boasts
12.18.32
much golden treasure and a liberal hand.
12.18.33
Other unwedded maids of noble stem
12.18.34
in Latium and Laurentine land are found.
12.18.35
Permit me, then, to tell thee without guile
12.18.36
things hard to utter; let them deeply fill
12.18.37
thy listening soul. My sacred duty 'twas
12.18.38
to plight my daughter's hand to nonesoe'er
12.18.39
of all her earlier wooers—so declared
12.18.40
the gods and oracles; but overcome
12.18.41
by love of thee, by thy dear, kindred blood,
12.18.42
and by the sad eyes of my mournful Queen,
12.18.43
I shattered every bond; I snatched away
12.18.44
the plighted maiden from her destined lord,
12.18.45
and took up impious arms. What evil case
12.18.46
upon that deed ensued, what hapless wars,
12.18.47
thou knowest, since thyself dost chiefly bear
12.18.48
the cruel burden. In wide-ranging fight
12.18.49
twice-conquered, our own city scarce upholds
12.18.50
the hope of Italy. Yon Tiber's wave
12.18.51
still runs warm with my people's blood; the plains
12.18.52
far round us glisten with their bleaching bones.
12.18.53
Why tell it o'er and o'er? What maddening dream
12.18.54
perverts my mind? If after Turnus slain
12.18.55
I must for friendship of the Trojan sue,
12.18.56
were it not better to suspend the fray
12.18.57
while Turnus lives? For what will be the word
12.18.58
of thy Rutulian kindred—yea, of all
12.18.59
Italia, if to death I give thee o'er—
12.18.60
(Which Heaven avert!) because thou fain wouldst win
12.18.61
my daughter and be sworn my friend and son?
12.18.62
Bethink thee what a dubious work is war;
12.18.63
have pity on thy father's reverend years,
12.18.64
who even now thy absence daily mourns
12.18.65
in Ardea, his native land and thine.”
12.18.66
But to this pleading Turnus' frenzied soul
12.18.67
yields not at all, but rather blazes forth
12.18.68
more wildly, and his fever fiercer burns
12.18.69
beneath the healer's hand. In answer he,
12.18.70
soon as his passion gathered voice, began:
12.18.71
“This keen solicitude for love of me,
12.18.72
I pray, good sire, for love of me put by!
12.18.73
And let me traffic in the just exchange
12.18.74
of death for glory. This right hand, O King,
12.18.75
can scatter shafts not few, nor do I wield
12.18.76
untempered steel. Whene'er I make a wound
12.18.77
blood follows. For my foeman when we meet
12.18.78
will find no goddess-mother near, with hand
12.18.79
to hide him in her woman's skirt of cloud,
12.18.80
herself in dim, deluding shade concealed.”
12.54.81
But now the Queen, whose whole heart shrank in fear
12.54.82
from these new terms of duel, wept aloud,
12.54.83
and like one dying clasped her fiery son:
12.54.84
“O Turnus, by these tears-if in thy heart
12.54.85
thou honorest Amata still—O thou
12.54.86
who art of our distressful, dark old age
12.54.87
the only hope and peace, the kingly name
12.54.88
and glory of Latinus rests in thee;
12.54.89
thou art the mighty prop whereon is stayed
12.54.90
our falling house. One favor I implore:
12.54.91
give o'er this fight with Trojans. In such strife
12.54.92
thy destined doom is destined to be mine
12.54.93
by the same fatal stroke. For in that hour
12.54.94
this hated life shall cease, nor will I look
12.54.95
with slave's eyes on Aeneas as my son.”
12.54.96
Lavinia heard her mother's voice, and tears
12.54.97
o'erflowed her scarlet cheek, where blushes spread
12.54.98
like flame along her warm, young face and brow:
12.54.99
as when the Indian ivory must wear
12.54.100
ensanguined crimson stain, or lilies pale
12.54.101
mingled with roses seem to blush, such hues
12.54.102
her virgin features bore; and love's desire
12.54.103
disturbed his breast, as, gazing on the maid,
12.54.104
his martial passion fiercer flamed; whereon
12.54.105
in brief speech he addressed the Queen: “No tears!
12.54.106
No evil omen, mother, I implore!
12.54.107
Make me no sad farewells, as I depart
12.54.108
to the grim war-god's game! Can Turnus' hand
12.54.109
delay death's necessary coming? Go,
12.54.110
Idmon, my herald, to the Phrygian King,
12.54.111
and tell him this—a word not framed to please:
12.54.112
soon as Aurora from her crimson car
12.54.113
flushes to-morrow's sky, let him no more
12.54.114
against the Rutule lead the Teucrian line;
12.54.115
let Teucrian swords and Rutule take repose,
12.54.116
while with our own spilt blood we twain will make
12.54.117
an end of war; on yonder mortal field
12.54.118
let each man woo Lavinia for his bride.”
12.81.119
So saying, he hied him to his lordly halls,
12.81.120
summoned his steeds, and with pleased eye surveyed
12.81.121
their action proud: them Orithyia, bride
12.81.122
of Boreas, to Sire Pilumnus gave,
12.81.123
which in their whiteness did surpass the snow
12.81.124
in speed the wind. The nimble charioteers
12.81.125
stood by and smote with hollowed hand and palm
12.81.126
the sounding chests, or combed the necks and manes.
12.81.127
But he upon his kingly shoulders clasped
12.81.128
his corselet, thick o'erlaid with blazoned gold
12.81.129
and silvery orichalch; he fitted him
12.81.130
with falchion, shield, and helm of purple plume,
12.81.131
that falchion which the Lord of Fire had made
12.81.132
for Daunus, tempering in the Stygian wave
12.81.133
when white it glowed; next grasped he the good spear
12.81.134
which leaned its weight against a column tall
12.81.135
in the mid-court, Auruncan Actor's spoil,
12.81.136
and waved it wide in air with mighty cry:
12.81.137
“O spear, that ne'er did fail me when I called,
12.81.138
the hour is come! Once mighty Actor's hand,
12.81.139
but now the hand of Turnus is thy lord.
12.81.140
Grant me to strike that carcase to the ground,
12.81.141
and with strong hand the corselet rip and rend
12.81.142
from off that Phrygian eunuch: let the dust
12.81.143
befoul those tresses, tricked to curl so fine
12.81.144
with singeing steel and sleeked with odorous oil.”
12.81.145
Such frenzy goads him: his impassioned brow
12.81.146
is all on flame, the wild eyes flash with fire.
12.81.147
Thus, bellowing loud before the fearful fray,
12.81.148
some huge bull proves the fury of his horns,
12.81.149
pushing against a tree-trunk; his swift thrusts
12.81.150
would tear the winds in pieces; while his hoofs
12.81.151
toss up the turf and sand, rehearsing war.
12.107.152
That self-same day with aspect terrible
12.107.153
Aeneas girt him in the wondrous arms
12.107.154
his mother gave; made sharp his martial steel,
12.107.155
and roused his heart to ire; though glad was he
12.107.156
to seal such truce and end the general war.
12.107.157
Then he spoke comfort to his friends; and soothed
12.107.158
Iulus' fear, unfolding Heaven's intent;
12.107.159
but on Latinus bade his heralds lay
12.107.160
unyielding terms and laws of peace impose.
12.113.161
Soon as the breaking dawn its glory threw
12.113.162
along the hills, and from the sea's profound
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leaped forth the horses of the sun-god's car,
12.113.164
from lifted nostrils breathing light and fire,
12.113.165
then Teucrian and Rutulian measured out
12.113.166
a place for duel, underneath the walls
12.113.167
of the proud city. In the midst were set
12.113.168
altars of turf and hearth-stones burning bright
12.113.169
in honor of their common gods. Some brought
12.113.170
pure waters and the hallowed flame, their thighs
12.113.171
in priestly skirt arrayed, and reverend brows
12.113.172
with vervain bound. Th' Ausonians, spear in hand,
12.113.173
out from the city's crowded portals moved
12.113.174
in ordered column: next the Trojans all,
12.113.175
with Tuscan host in various martial guise,
12.113.176
equipped with arms of steel, as if they heard
12.113.177
stern summons to the fight. Their captains, too,
12.113.178
emerging from the multitude, in pride
12.113.179
of gold and purple, hurried to and fro:
12.113.180
Mnestheus of royal stem, Asilas brave;
12.113.181
and Neptune's offspring, tamer of the steed,
12.113.182
Messapus. Either host, at signal given,
12.113.183
to its own ground retiring, fixed in earth
12.113.184
the long shafts of the spears and stacked the shields.
12.113.185
Then eagerly to tower and rampart fly
12.113.186
the women, the infirm old men, the throng
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of the unarmed, and sit them there at gaze,
12.113.188
or on the columned gates expectant stand.
12.134.189
But Juno, peering from that summit proud
12.134.190
which is to-day the Alban (though that time
12.134.191
nor name nor fame the hallowed mountain knew),
12.134.192
surveyed the plain below and fair array
12.134.193
of Trojan and Laurentine, by the walls
12.134.194
of King Latinus. Whereupon straightway
12.134.195
with Turnus' sister she began converse,
12.134.196
goddess with goddess; for that nymph divine
12.134.197
o'er Alba's calm lakes and loud rivers reigns;
12.134.198
Jove, the high monarch of th' ethereal sky,
12.134.199
gave her such glory when he stole away
12.134.200
her virgin zone. “O nymph“, she said, “who art
12.134.201
the pride of flowing streams, and much beloved
12.134.202
of our own heart! thou knowest thou alone
12.134.203
hast been my favorite of those Latin maids
12.134.204
that to proud Jove's unthankful bed have climbed;
12.134.205
and willingly I found thee place and share
12.134.206
in our Olympian realm. So blame not me,
12.134.207
but hear, Juturna, what sore grief is thine:
12.134.208
while chance and destiny conceded aught
12.134.209
of strength to Latium's cause, I shielded well
12.134.210
both Turnus and thy city's wall; but now
12.134.211
I see our youthful champion make his war
12.134.212
with fates adverse. The Parcae's day of doom
12.134.213
implacably impends. My eyes refuse
12.134.214
to Iook upon such fight, such fatal league.
12.134.215
If for thy brother's life thou couldst be bold
12.134.216
to venture some swift blow, go, strike it now!
12.134.217
'T is fit and fair! Some issue fortunate
12.134.218
may tread on sorrow's heel.” She scarce had said,
12.134.219
when rained the quick tears from Juturna's eyes.
12.134.220
Three times and yet again her desperate hand
12.134.221
smote on her comely breast. But Juno cried,
12.134.222
“No tears to-day! But haste thee, haste and find
12.134.223
what way, if way there be, from clutch of death
12.134.224
to tear thy brother free; arouse the war;
12.134.225
their plighted peace destroy. I grant thee leave
12.134.226
such boldness to essay.” With this command
12.134.227
she left the nymph dismayed and grieving sore.
12.161.228
Meanwhile the kings ride forth: Latinus first,
12.161.229
looming tall-statured from his four-horse car;
12.161.230
twelve rays of gold encircle his bright brow,
12.161.231
sign of the sun-god, his progenitor;
12.161.232
next Turnus, driving snow-white steeds, is seen,—
12.161.233
two bread-tipped javelins in his hand he bears;
12.161.234
Aeneas, of Rome's blood the source and sire,
12.161.235
with star-bright shield and panoply divine,
12.161.236
far-shining comes; Ascanius by his side—
12.161.237
of Roman greatness the next hope is he.
12.161.238
To camp they rode, where, garbed in blameless white,
12.161.239
with youngling swine and two-year sheep unshorn,
12.161.240
the priest before the flaming altars drove
12.161.241
his flock and offering: to the rising sun
12.161.242
all eyes are lifted, as with careful hand
12.161.243
the salted meal is scattered, while with knives
12.161.244
they mark each victim's brow, outpouring wine
12.161.245
from shallow bowls, the sacrifice to bless.
12.175.246
Then good Aeneas, his sword drawn, put forth
12.175.247
this votive prayer: “O Sun in heaven; and thou,
12.175.248
Italia, for whom such toils I bear,
12.175.249
be witness of my orison. On thee,
12.175.250
Father omnipotent, I call; on thee,
12.175.251
his Queen Saturnia,—now may she be
12.175.252
more gracious to my prayer! O glorious Mars,
12.175.253
beneath whose godhead and paternity
12.175.254
all wars begin and end, on thee I call;
12.175.255
hail, all ye river-gods and haunted springs;
12.175.256
hail, whatsoever gods have seat of awe
12.175.257
in yonder distant sky, and ye whose power
12.175.258
is in the keeping of the deep, blue sea:
12.175.259
if victory to Ausonian Turnus fall,
12.175.260
then let my vanquished people take its way
12.175.261
unto Evander's city! From these plains
12.175.262
Iulus shall retire—so stands the bond;
12.175.263
nor shall the Trojans with rebellious sword
12.175.264
bring after-trouble on this land and King.
12.175.265
But if on arms of ours success shall shine,
12.175.266
as I doubt not it shall (may gods on high
12.175.267
their will confirm!), I purpose not to chain
12.175.268
Italian captive unto Teucrian lord,
12.175.269
nor seek I kingly power. Let equal laws
12.175.270
unite in federation without end
12.175.271
the two unconquered nations; both shall share
12.175.272
my worshipped gods. Latinus, as my sire,
12.175.273
shall keep his sword, and as my sire receive
12.175.274
inviolable power. The Teucrians
12.175.275
shall build my stronghold, but our citadel
12.175.276
shall bear forevermore Lavinia's name.”
12.195.277
Aeneas thus: then with uplifted eyes
12.195.278
Latinus swore, his right hand raised to heaven:
12.195.279
“I too, Aeneas, take the sacred vow.
12.195.280
By earth and sea and stars in heaven I swear,
12.195.281
by fair Latona's radiant children twain,
12.195.282
and two-browed Janus; by the shadowy powers
12.195.283
of Hades and th' inexorable shrines
12.195.284
of the Infernal King; and may Jove hear,
12.195.285
who by his lightnings hallows what is sworn!
12.195.286
I touch these altars, and my lips invoke
12.195.287
the sacred altar-fires that 'twixt us burn:
12.195.288
we men of Italy will make this peace
12.195.289
inviolate, and its bond forever keep,
12.195.290
let come what will; there is no power can change
12.195.291
my purpose, not if ocean's waves o'erwhelm
12.195.292
the world in billowy deluge and obscure
12.195.293
the bounds of heaven and hell. We shall remain
12.195.294
immutable as my smooth sceptre is“
12.195.295
(By chance a sceptre in his hand he bore),
12.195.296
“which wears no more light leaf or branching shade;
12.195.297
for long since in the grove 't was plucked away
12.195.298
from parent stem, and yielded to sharp steel
12.195.299
its leaves and limbs; erewhile 't was but a tree,
12.195.300
till the wise craftsman with fair sheath of bronze
12.195.301
encircled it and laid it in the hands
12.195.302
of Latium's royal sires.” With words like these
12.195.303
they swore the bond, in the beholding eyes
12.195.304
of gathered princes. Then they slit the throats
12.195.305
of hallowed victims o'er the altar's blaze,
12.195.306
drew forth the quivering vitals, and with flesh
12.195.307
on loaded chargers heaped the sacrifice.
12.216.308
But to Rutulian eyes th' approaching joust
12.216.309
seemed all ill-matched; and shifting hopes and fears
12.216.310
disturbed their hearts the closer they surveyed
12.216.311
th' unequal risks: still worse it was to see
12.216.312
how Turnus, silent and with downcast eyes,
12.216.313
dejectedly drew near the place of prayer,
12.216.314
worn, pale, and wasted in his youthful bloom.
12.216.315
The nymph Juturna, with a sister's fear,
12.216.316
noted the growing murmur, and perceived
12.216.317
how all the people's will did shift and change;
12.216.318
she went from rank to rank, feigning the shape
12.216.319
of Camers, scion of illustrious line,
12.216.320
with heritage of valor, and himself
12.216.321
dauntless in war; unceasingly she ran
12.216.322
from rank to rank, spreading with skilful tongue
12.216.323
opinions manifold, and thus she spoke:
12.216.324
“Will ye not blush, Rutulians, so to stake
12.216.325
one life for many heroes? Are we not
12.216.326
their match in might and numbers? O, behold
12.216.327
those Trojan sons of Heaven making league
12.216.328
with exiled Arcady; see Tuscan hordes
12.216.329
storming at Turnus. Yet we scarce could find
12.216.330
one foe apiece, forsooth, if we should dare
12.216.331
fight them with half our warriors. Of a truth
12.216.332
your champion brave shall to those gods ascend
12.216.333
before whose altars his great heart he vows;
12.216.334
and lips of men while yet on earth he stays
12.216.335
will spread his glory far. Ourselves, instead,
12.216.336
must crouch to haughty masters, and resign
12.216.337
this fatherland upon whose fruitful fields
12.216.338
we dwell at ease.” So speaking, she inflamed
12.216.339
the warriors' minds, and through the legions ran
12.216.340
increasing whisper; the Laurentine host
12.216.341
and even Latium wavered. Those who late
12.216.342
prayed but for rest and safety, clamored loud
12.216.343
for arms, desired annulment of the league,
12.216.344
and pitied Turnus' miserable doom.
12.216.345
Whereon Juturna tried a mightier stroke,
12.216.346
a sign from heaven, which more than all beside
12.216.347
confused the Latins and deceived their hearts
12.216.348
with prodigy. For through the flaming skies
12.216.349
Jove's golden eagle swooped, and scattered far
12.216.350
a clamorous tribe of river-haunting birds;
12.216.351
then, swiftly to the waters falling, seized
12.216.352
one noble swan, which with keen, curving claws
12.216.353
he ruthless bore away: th' Italians all
12.216.354
watched eagerly, while the loud-screaming flock
12.216.355
wheeled upward (wondrous sight!), with host of wings
12.216.356
shadowed the sky, and in a legion-cloud
12.216.357
chased through the air the foe; till, overborne
12.216.358
by heavier odds, the eagle from his claws
12.216.359
flung back his victim to the waves, and fled
12.216.360
to the dim, distant heaven. The Rutules then
12.216.361
hailed the good omen with consenting cry,
12.216.362
and grasped the sword and shield. Tolumnius
12.216.363
the augur spake first: “Lo, the sign I sought
12.216.364
with many a prayer! I welcome and obey
12.216.365
the powers divine. Take me for captain, me!
12.216.366
And draw your swords, ye wretches, whom th' assault
12.216.367
of yonder foreign scoundrel puts in fear
12.216.368
like feeble birds, and with his violence
12.216.369
lays waste your shore. He too shall fly away,
12.216.370
spreading his ships' wings on the distant seas.
12.216.371
Close up your ranks—one soul in all our breasts!
12.216.372
Defend in open war your stolen King.”
12.216.373
So saying, he hurled upon th' opposing foe
12.216.374
his javelin, running forward. The strong shaft
12.216.375
of corner whistled shrill, and clove the air
12.216.376
unerring. Instantly vast clamor rose,
12.216.377
and all th' onlookers at the spectacle
12.216.378
leaped up amazed, and every heart beat high.
12.216.379
The spear sped flying to the foeman's line,
12.216.380
where stood nine goodly brethren, pledges all
12.216.381
of one true Tuscan mother to her lord,
12.216.382
Gylippus of Arcadia; it struck full
12.216.383
on one of these at his gold-belted waist,
12.216.384
and where the clasp clung, pierced the rib clean through.
12.216.385
And stretched the fair youth in his glittering arms
12.216.386
full length and lifeless on the yellow sand.
12.216.387
His brothers then, bold band to wrath aroused
12.216.388
by sorrow, seize the sword or snatch the spear
12.216.389
and blindly charge. Opposing them, the host
12.216.390
Laurentine makes advance, and close-arrayed
12.216.391
the Trojans like a torrent pour, enforced
12.216.392
by Tuscans and the gay-accoutred clans
12.216.393
of Arcady. One passion moved in all
12.216.394
to try the judgment of the sword. They tore
12.216.395
the altars down: a very storm of spears
12.216.396
rose angrily to heaven, in iron rain
12.216.397
down-pouring: while the priests bore far away
12.216.398
the sacrificial bowls and sacred fires.
12.216.399
Even Latinus fled; his stricken gods
12.216.400
far from his violated oath he bore.
12.287.401
Some leaped to horse or chariot and rode
12.287.402
with naked swords in air. Messapus, wild
12.287.403
to break the truce, assailed the Tuscan King,
12.287.404
Aulestes, dressed in kingly blazon fair,
12.287.405
with fearful shock of steeds; the Tuscan dropped
12.287.406
helplessly backward, striking as he fell
12.287.407
his head and shoulders on the altar-stone
12.287.408
that lay behind him. But Messapus flew,
12.287.409
infuriate, a javelin in his hand,
12.287.410
and, towering o'er the suppliant, smote him strong
12.287.411
with the great beam-like spear, and loudly cried:
12.287.412
“Down with him! Ah! no common victim he
12.287.413
to give the mighty gods!” Italia's men
12.287.414
despoiled the dead man ere his limbs were cold.
12.287.415
Then Corynaeus snatched a burning brand
12.287.416
out of the altar, and as Ebysus
12.287.417
came toward him for to strike, he hurled the flame
12.287.418
full in his face: the big beard quickly blazed
12.287.419
with smell of singeing; while the warrior bold
12.287.420
strode over him, and seized with firm left hand
12.287.421
his quailing foe's Iong hair; then with one knee
12.287.422
he pushed and strained, compelled him to the `ground—
12.287.423
and struck straight at his heart with naked steel.
12.287.424
The shepherd Alsus in the foremost line
12.287.425
came leaping through the spears; when o'er him towered
12.287.426
huge Podalirius with a flashing sword
12.287.427
in close pursuit; the mighty battle-axe
12.287.428
clove him with swinging stroke from brow to chin,
12.287.429
and spilt along his mail the streaming gore:
12.287.430
so stern repose and iron slumber fell
12.287.431
upon that shepherd's eyes, and sealed their gaze
12.287.432
in endless night. But good Aeneas now
12.287.433
stretched forth his unarmed hand, and all unhelmed
12.287.434
thus Ioudly to his people called: “What means
12.287.435
this frantic stir, this quarrel rashly bold?
12.287.436
Recall your martial rage! The pledge is given
12.287.437
and all its terms agreed. 'T is only I
12.287.438
do lawful battle here. So let me forth,
12.287.439
and tremble not. My own hand shall confirm
12.287.440
the solemn treaty. For these rites consign
12.287.441
Turnus to none but me.” Yet while he spoke,
12.287.442
behold, a winged arrow, hissing loud,
12.287.443
the hero pierced; but what bold hand impelled
12.287.444
its whirling speed, none knew; nor if it were
12.287.445
chance or some power divine that brought this fame
12.287.446
upon Rutulia; for the glorious deed
12.287.447
was covered o'er with silence: none would boast
12.287.448
an arrow guilty of Aeneas' wound.
12.287.449
When Turnus saw Aeneas from the line
12.287.450
retreating, and the captains in dismay,
12.287.451
with sudden hope he burned: he called for steeds,
12.287.452
for arms, and, leaping to his chariot,
12.287.453
rode insolently forth, the reins in hand.
12.287.454
Many strong heroes he dispatched to die,
12.287.455
as on he flew, and many stretched half-dead,
12.287.456
or from his chariot striking, or from far
12.287.457
raining his javelins on the recreant foe.
12.287.458
As Mars, forth-speeding by the wintry stream
12.287.459
of Hebrus, smites his sanguinary shield
12.287.460
and whips the swift steeds to the front of war,
12.287.461
who, flying past the winds of eve and morn,
12.287.462
scour the wide champaign; the bounds of Thrace
12.287.463
beneath their hoof-beats thunder; the dark shapes
12.287.464
of Terror, Wrath, and Treachery move on
12.287.465
in escort of the god: in such grim guise
12.287.466
bold Turnus lashed into the fiercest fray
12.287.467
his streaming steeds, that pitiful to see
12.287.468
trod down the slaughtered foe; each flying hoof
12.287.469
scattered a bloody dew; their path was laid
12.287.470
in mingled blood and sand. To death he flung
12.287.471
Pholus and Sthenelus and Thamyris:
12.287.472
two smitten in close fight and one from far:
12.287.473
also from far he smote with fatal spear
12.287.474
Glaucus and Lades, the Imbrasidae,
12.287.475
whom Imbrasus himself in Lycia bred,
12.287.476
and honored them with arms of equal skill
12.287.477
when grappling with a foe, or o'er the field
12.287.478
speeding a war-horse faster than the wind.
12.346.479
Elsewhere Eumedes through a throng of foes
12.346.480
to battle rode, the high-born Dolon's child,
12.346.481
famous in war, who bore his grandsire's name,
12.346.482
but seemed in might and courage like his sire:
12.346.483
that prince, who reconnoitring crept so near
12.346.484
the Argive camp, he dared to claim for spoil
12.346.485
the chariot of Achilles; but that day
12.346.486
great Diomed for such audacious deed
12.346.487
paid wages otherwise,—and he no more
12.346.488
dreamed to possess the steeds of Peleus' son.
12.346.489
When Turnus recognized in open field
12.346.490
this warrior, though far, he aimed and flung
12.346.491
his javelin through the spacious air; then stayed
12.346.492
his coursers twain, and, leaping from his car,
12.346.493
found the wretch helpless fallen; so planted he
12.346.494
his foot upon his neck, and from his hand
12.346.495
wrested the sword and thrust it glittering
12.346.496
deep in the throat, thus taunting as he slew:
12.346.497
“There's land for thee, thou Trojan! Measure there
12.346.498
th' Hesperian provinces thy sword would find.
12.346.499
Such reward will I give to all who dare
12.346.500
draw steel on me; such cities they shall build.”
12.346.501
To bear him company his spear laid low
12.346.502
Asbutes, Sybaris, Thersilochus,
12.346.503
Chloreus and Dares, and Thymoetes thrown
12.346.504
sheer off the shoulders of his balking steed.
12.346.505
As when from Thrace the north wind thunders down
12.346.506
the vast Aegean, flinging the swift flood
12.346.507
against the shore, and where his blasts assail
12.346.508
the cloudy cohorts vanish out of heaven:
12.346.509
so before Turnus, where his path he clove,
12.346.510
the lines fell back, the wheeling legions fled.
12.346.511
The warrior's own wild impulse swept him on,
12.346.512
and every wind that o'er his chariot blew
12.346.513
shook out his plume in air. But such advance
12.346.514
so bold, so furious, Phegeus could not brook,
12.346.515
but, fronting the swift chariot's path, he seized
12.346.516
the foam-flecked bridles of its coursers wild,
12.346.517
while from the yoke his body trailed and swung;
12.346.518
the broad lance found his naked side, and tore
12.346.519
his double corselet, pricking lightly through
12.346.520
the outer flesh; but he with lifted shield
12.346.521
still fought his foe and thrust with falchion bare;
12.346.522
but the fierce pace of whirling wheel and pole
12.346.523
flung him down prone, and stretched him on the plain.
12.346.524
Then Turnus, aiming with relentless sword
12.346.525
between the corselet's edge and helmet's rim
12.346.526
struck off his whole head, leaving on the sands
12.346.527
the mutilated corpse. While thus afield
12.346.528
victorious Turnus dealt out death and doom,
12.346.529
Mnestheus, Achates true, and by their side
12.346.530
Ascanius, have carried to the camp
12.346.531
Aeneas, gashed and bleeding, whose long lance
12.346.532
sustained his limping step. With fruitless rage
12.346.533
he struggled with the spear-head's splintered barb,
12.346.534
and bade them help him by the swiftest way
12.346.535
to carve the wound out with a sword, to rip
12.346.536
the clinging weapon forth, and send him back
12.346.537
to meet the battle. Quickly to his side
12.346.538
came Iapyx, dear favorite and friend
12.346.539
of Phoebus, upon whom the god bestowed
12.346.540
his own wise craft and power, Iove-impelled.
12.346.541
The gifts of augury were given, and song,
12.346.542
with arrows of swift wing: he when his sire
12.346.543
was carried forth to die, deferred the doom
12.346.544
for many a day, by herbs of virtue known
12.346.545
to leechcraft; and without reward or praise
12.346.546
his silent art he plied. Aeneas stood,
12.346.547
bitterly grieving, propped upon his spear;
12.346.548
a throng of warriors were near him, and
12.346.549
Iulus, sorrowing. The aged man
12.346.550
gathered his garments up as leeches do,
12.346.551
and with skilled hand and Phoebus' herbs of power
12.346.552
bustled in vain; in vain his surgery
12.346.553
pried at the shaft, and with a forceps strong
12.346.554
seized on the buried barb. But Fortune gave
12.346.555
no remedy, nor did Apollo aid
12.346.556
his votary. So more and more grim fear
12.346.557
stalks o'er the field of war, and nearer hies
12.346.558
the fatal hour; the very heavens are dust;
12.346.559
the horsemen charge, and in the midmost camp
12.346.560
a rain of javelins pours. The dismal cry
12.346.561
of men in fierce fight, and of men who fall
12.346.562
beneath relentless Mars, rends all the air.
12.411.563
Then Venus, by her offspring's guiltless woe
12.411.564
sore moved, did cull from Cretan Ida's crest
12.411.565
some dittany, with downy leaf and stem
12.411.566
and flowers of purple bloom—a simple known
12.411.567
to mountain goats, when to their haunches clings
12.411.568
an arrow gone astray. This Venus brought,
12.411.569
mantling her shape in cloud; and this she steeped
12.411.570
in bowls of glass, infusing secretly
12.411.571
ambrosia's healing essence and sweet drops
12.411.572
of fragrant panacea. Such a balm
12.411.573
aged Iapyx poured upon the wound,
12.411.574
though unaware; and sudden from the flesh
12.411.575
all pain departed and the blood was staunched,
12.411.576
while from the gash the arrow uncompelled
12.411.577
followed the hand and dropped: his wonted strength
12.411.578
flowed freshly through the hero's frame. “Make haste!
12.411.579
Bring forth his arms! Why tarry any more?”
12.411.580
Iapyx shouted, being first to fire
12.411.581
their courage 'gainst the foe. “This thing is done
12.411.582
not of man's knowledge, nor by sovereign skill;
12.411.583
nor has my hand, Aeneas, set thee free.
12.411.584
Some mighty god thy vigor gives again
12.411.585
for mighty deeds.” Aeneas now put on,
12.411.586
all fever for the fight, his golden greaves,
12.411.587
and, brooking not delay, waved wide his spear.
12.411.588
Soon as the corselet and the shield were bound
12.411.589
on back and side, he clasped Ascanius
12.411.590
to his mailed breast, and through his helmet grim
12.411.591
tenderly kissed his son. “My boy", he cried,
12.411.592
“What valor is and patient, genuine toil
12.411.593
learn thou of me; let others guide thy feet
12.411.594
to prosperous fortune. Let this hand and sword
12.411.595
defend thee through the war and lead thee on
12.411.596
to high rewards. Thou also play the man!
12.411.597
And when thy riper vigor soon shall bloom,
12.411.598
forget not in thy heart to ponder well
12.411.599
the story of our line. Heed honor's call,
12.411.600
like Sire Aeneas and Hector thy close kin.”
12.441.601
After such farewell word, he from the gates
12.441.602
in mighty stature strode, and swung on high
12.441.603
his giant spear. With him in serried line
12.441.604
Antheus and Mnestheus moved, and all the host
12.441.605
from the forsaken fortress poured. The plain
12.441.606
was darkened with their dust; the startled earth
12.441.607
shook where their footing fell. From distant hill
12.441.608
Turnus beheld them coming, and the eyes
12.441.609
of all Ausonia saw: a chill of fear
12.441.610
shot through each soldier's marrow; in their van
12.441.611
Juturna knew full well the dreadful sound,
12.441.612
and fled before it, shuddering. But he
12.441.613
hurried his murky cohorts o'er the plain.
12.441.614
As when a tempest from the riven sky
12.441.615
drives landward o'er mid-ocean, and from far
12.441.616
the hearts of husbandmen, foreboding woe,
12.441.617
quake ruefully,—for this will come and rend
12.441.618
their trees asunder, kill the harvests all,
12.441.619
and sow destruction broadcast; in its path
12.441.620
fly roaring winds, swift heralds of the storm:
12.441.621
such dire approach the Trojan chieftain showed
12.441.622
before his gathered foes. In close array
12.441.623
they wedge their ranks about him. With a sword
12.441.624
Thymbraeus cuts huge-limbed Osiris down;
12.441.625
Mnestheus, Arcetius; from Epulo
12.441.626
Achates shears the head; from Ufens, Gyas;
12.441.627
Tolumnius the augur falls, the same
12.441.628
who flung the first spear to the foeman's line.
12.441.629
Uprose to heaven the cries. In panic now
12.441.630
the Rutules in retreating clouds of dust
12.441.631
scattered across the plain. Aeneas scorned
12.441.632
either the recreant or resisting foe
12.441.633
to slaughter, or the men who shoot from far:
12.441.634
for through the war-cloud he but seeks the arms
12.441.635
of Turnus, and to single combat calls.
12.468.636
The warrior-maid Juturna, seeing this,
12.468.637
distraught with terror, strikes down from his place
12.468.638
Metiscus, Turnus' charioteer, who dropped
12.468.639
forward among the reins and off the pole.
12.468.640
Him leaving on the field, her own hand grasped
12.468.641
the loosely waving reins, while she took on
12.468.642
Metiscus' shape, his voice, and blazoned arms.
12.468.643
As when through some rich master's spacious halls
12.468.644
speeds the black swallow on her lightsome wing,
12.468.645
exploring the high roof, or harvesting
12.468.646
some scanty morsel for her twittering brood,
12.468.647
round empty corridors or garden-pools
12.468.648
noisily flitting: so Juturna roams
12.468.649
among the hostile ranks, and wings her way
12.468.650
behind the swift steeds of the whirling car.
12.468.651
At divers points she lets the people see
12.468.652
her brother's glory, but not yet allows
12.468.653
the final tug of war; her pathless flight
12.468.654
keeps far away. Aeneas too must take
12.468.655
a course circuitous, and follows close
12.468.656
his foeman's track; Ioud o'er the scattered lines
12.468.657
he shouts his challenge. But whene'er his eyes
12.468.658
discern the foe, and fain he would confront
12.468.659
the flying-footed steeds, Juturna veers
12.468.660
the chariot round and flies. What can he do?
12.468.661
Aeneas' wrath storms vainly to and fro,
12.468.662
and wavering purposes his heart divide.
12.468.663
Against him lightly leaped Messapus forth,
12.468.664
bearing two pliant javelins tipped with steel;
12.468.665
and, whirling one in air, he aimed it well,
12.468.666
with stroke unfailing. Great Aeneas paused
12.468.667
in cover of his shield and crouched low down
12.468.668
upon his haunches. But the driven spear
12.468.669
battered his helmet's peak and plucked away
12.468.670
the margin of his plume. Then burst his rage:
12.468.671
his cunning foes had forced him; so at last,
12.468.672
while steeds and chariot in the distance fly,
12.468.673
he plunged him in the fray, and called on Jove
12.468.674
the altars of that broken oath to see.
12.468.675
Now by the war-god's favor he began
12.468.676
grim, never-pitying slaughter, and flung free
12.468.677
the bridle of his rage.
12.500.678
What voice divine
12.500.679
such horror can make known? What song declare
12.500.680
the bloodshed manifold, the princes slain,
12.500.681
or flying o'er the field from Turnus' blade,
12.500.682
or from the Trojan King? Did Jove ordain
12.500.683
so vast a shock of arms should interpose
12.500.684
'twixt nations destined to perpetual bond?
12.500.685
Aeneas met the Rutule Sucro—thus
12.500.686
staying the Trojan charge—and with swift blow
12.500.687
struck at him sidewise, where the way of death
12.500.688
is quickest, cleaving ribs and rounded side
12.500.689
with reeking sword. Turnus met Amycus,
12.500.690
unhorsed him, though himself afoot, and slew
12.500.691
Diores, his fair brother (one was pierced
12.500.692
fronting the spear, the other felled to earth
12.500.693
by strike of sword), and both their severed heads
12.500.694
he hung all dripping to his chariot's rim.
12.500.695
But Talon, Tanais, and Cethegus brave,
12.500.696
three in one onset, unto death went down
12.500.697
at great Aeneas' hand; and he dispatched
12.500.698
ill-starred Onites of Echion's line,
12.500.699
fair Peridia's child. Then Turnus slew
12.500.700
two Lycian brothers unto Phoebus dear,
12.500.701
and young Menoetes, an Arcadian,
12.500.702
who hated war (though vainly) when he plied
12.500.703
his native fisher-craft in Lerna's streams,
12.500.704
where from his mean abode he ne'er went forth
12.500.705
to wait at great men's doors, but with his sire
12.500.706
reaped the scant harvest of a rented glebe.
12.500.707
as from two sides two conflagrations sweep
12.500.708
dry woodlands or full copse of crackling bay,
12.500.709
or as, swift-leaping from the mountain-vales,
12.500.710
two flooded, foaming rivers seaward roar,
12.500.711
each on its path of death, not less uproused,
12.500.712
speed Turnus and Aeneas o'er the field;
12.500.713
now storms their martial rage; now fiercely swells
12.500.714
either indomitable heart; and now
12.500.715
each hero's full strength to the slaughter moves.
12.529.716
Behold Murranus, boasting his high birth
12.529.717
from far-descended sires of storied name,
12.529.718
the line of Latium's kings! Aeneas now
12.529.719
with mountain-boulder lays him low in dust,
12.529.720
smitten with whirlwind of the monster stone;
12.529.721
and o'er him fallen under yoke and rein
12.529.722
roll his own chariot wheels, while with swift tread
12.529.723
the mad hoofs of his horses stamp him down,
12.529.724
not knowing him their lord. But Turnus found
12.529.725
proud Hyllus fronting him with frantic rage,
12.529.726
and at his golden helmet launched the shaft
12.529.727
that pierced it; in his cloven brain it clung.
12.529.728
Nor could thy sword, O Cretheus, save thee then
12.529.729
from Turnus, though of bravest Greeks the peer;
12.529.730
nor did Cupencus' gods their priest defend
12.529.731
against Aeneas, but his breast he gave
12.529.732
unto the hostile blade; his brazen shield
12.529.733
delayed no whit his miserable doom.
12.529.734
Thee also, Aeolus, Laurentum saw
12.529.735
spread thy huge body dying on the ground;
12.529.736
yea, dying, thou whom Greeks in serried arms
12.529.737
subdued not, nor Achilles' hand that hurled
12.529.738
the throne of Priam down: here didst thou touch
12.529.739
thy goal of death; one stately house was thine
12.529.740
on Ida's mountain, at Lyrnessus, one;
12.529.741
Laurentum's hallowed earth was but thy grave.
12.529.742
Now the whole host contends; all Latium meets
12.529.743
all Ilium; Mnestheus and Serestus bold;
12.529.744
Messapus, the steed-breaker, and high-soured
12.529.745
Asilas; Tuscans in a phalanx proud;
12.529.746
Arcadian riders of Evander's train:
12.529.747
each warrior lifts him to his height supreme
12.529.748
of might and skill; no sloth nor lingering now,
12.529.749
but in one far-spread conflict all contend.
12.554.750
His goddess-mother in Aeneas' mind
12.554.751
now stirred the purpose to make sudden way
12.554.752
against the city-wall, in swift advance
12.554.753
of all his line, confounding Latium so
12.554.754
with slaughter and surprise. His roving glance,
12.554.755
seeking for Turnus through the scattered lines
12.554.756
this way and that, beholds in distant view
12.554.757
the city yet unscathed and calmly free
12.554.758
from the wide-raging fight. Then on his soul
12.554.759
rushed the swift vision of a mightier war.
12.554.760
Mnestheus, Sergestus, and Serestus brave,
12.554.761
his chosen chiefs, he summons to his side,
12.554.762
and stands upon a hillock, whither throng
12.554.763
the Teucrian legions, each man holding fast
12.554.764
his shield and spear. He, towering high,
12.554.765
thus from the rampart to his people calls:
12.554.766
“Perform my bidding swiftly: Jove's own hand
12.554.767
sustains our power. Be ye not slack, because
12.554.768
the thing I do is sudden. For this day
12.554.769
I will pluck out th' offending root of war,—
12.554.770
yon city where Latinus reigns. Unless
12.554.771
it bear our yoke and heed a conqueror's will,
12.554.772
will lay low in dust its blazing towers.
12.554.773
Must I wait Turnus' pleasure, till he deign
12.554.774
to meet my stroke, and have a mind once more,
12.554.775
though vanquished, to show fight? My countrymen,
12.554.776
see yonder stronghold of their impious war!
12.554.777
Bring flames; avenge the broken oath with fire!”
12.554.778
Scarce had he said, when with consenting souls,
12.554.779
they speed them to the walls in dense array,
12.554.780
forming a wedge. Ladders now leap in air,
12.554.781
and sudden-blazing fires. In various war
12.554.782
some troops run charging at the city-gates,
12.554.783
and slay the guards; some fling the whirling spear
12.554.784
and darken heaven with arrows. In their van,
12.554.785
his right hand lifted to the wails and towers,
12.554.786
Aeneas, calling on the gods to hear,
12.554.787
loudly upbraids Latinus that once more
12.554.788
conflict is thrust upon him; that once more
12.554.789
Italians are his foes and violate
12.554.790
their second pledge of peace. So blazes forth
12.554.791
dissension 'twixt the frighted citizens:
12.554.792
some would give o'er the city and fling wide
12.554.793
its portals to the Trojan, or drag forth
12.554.794
the King himself to parley; others fly
12.554.795
to arms, and at the rampart make a stand.
12.554.796
'T is thus some shepherd from a caverned crag
12.554.797
stirs up the nested bees with plenteous fume
12.554.798
of bitter smoke; they, posting to and fro,
12.554.799
fly desperate round the waxen citadel,
12.554.800
and whet their buzzing fury; through their halls
12.554.801
the stench and blackness rolls; within the caves
12.554.802
noise and confusion ring; the fatal cloud
12.554.803
pours forth incessant on the vacant air.
12.593.804
But now a new adversity befell
12.593.805
the weary Latins, which with common woe
12.593.806
shook the whole city to its heart. The Queen,
12.593.807
when at her hearth she saw the close assault
12.593.808
of enemies, the walls beset, and fire
12.593.809
spreading from roof to roof, but no defence
12.593.810
from the Rutulian arms, nor front of war
12.593.811
with Turnus leading,—she, poor soul, believed
12.593.812
her youthful champion in the conflict slain;
12.593.813
and, mad with sudden sorrow, shrieked aloud
12.593.814
against herself, the guilty chief and cause
12.593.815
of all this ill; and, babbling her wild woe
12.593.816
in endless words, she rent her purple pall,
12.593.817
and with her own hand from the rafter swung
12.593.818
a noose for her foul death. The tidings dire
12.593.819
among the moaning wives of Latium spread,
12.593.820
and young Lavinia's frantic fingers tore
12.593.821
her rose-red cheek and hyacinthine hair.
12.593.822
Then all her company of women shrieked
12.593.823
in anguish, and the wailing echoed far
12.593.824
along the royal seat; from whence the tale
12.593.825
of sorrow through the peopled city flew;
12.593.826
hearts sank; Latinus rent his robes, appalled
12.593.827
to see his consort's doom, his falling throne;
12.593.828
and heaped foul dust upon his hoary hair.
12.614.829
Meanwhile the warrior Turnus far afield
12.614.830
pursued a scattered few; but less his speed,
12.614.831
for less and less his worn steeds worked his will;
12.614.832
and now wind-wafted to his straining ear
12.614.833
a nameless horror came, a dull, wild roar,
12.614.834
the city's tumult and distressful cry.
12.614.835
“Alack,” he cried, “what stirs in yonder walls
12.614.836
such anguish? Or why rings from side to side
12.614.837
such wailing through the city?” Asking so,
12.614.838
he tightened frantic grasp upon the rein.
12.614.839
To him his sister, counterfeiting still
12.614.840
the charioteer Metiscus, while she swayed
12.614.841
rein, steeds, and chariot, this answer made:
12.614.842
“Hither, my Turnus, let our arms pursue
12.614.843
the sons of Troy. Here lies the nearest way
12.614.844
to speedy triumph. There be other swords
12.614.845
to keep yon city safe. Aeneas now
12.614.846
storms against Italy in active war;
12.614.847
we also on this Trojan host may hurl
12.614.848
grim havoc. Nor shalt thou the strife give o'er
12.614.849
in glory second, nor in tale of slain.”
12.614.850
Turnus replied, “O sister, Iong ago
12.614.851
I knew thee what thou wert, when guilefully
12.614.852
thou didst confound their treaty, and enlist
12.614.853
thy whole heart in this war. No Ionger now
12.614.854
thy craft divine deceives me. But what god
12.614.855
compelled thee, from Olympus fallen so far,
12.614.856
to bear these cruel burdens? Wouldst thou see
12.614.857
thy wretched brother slaughtered? For what else
12.614.858
is in my power? What flattering hazard still
12.614.859
holds forth deliverance? My own eyes have seen
12.614.860
Murranus (more than any now on earth
12.614.861
my chosen friend) who, calling on my name,
12.614.862
died like a hero by a hero's sword.
12.614.863
Ill-fated Ufens fell, enduring not
12.614.864
to Iook upon my shame; the Teucrians
12.614.865
divide his arms for spoil and keep his bones.
12.614.866
Shall I stand tamely, till my hearth and home
12.614.867
are levelled with the ground? For this would be
12.614.868
the only blow not fallen. Shall my sword
12.614.869
not give the lie to Drances' insolence?
12.614.870
Shall I take flight and let my country see
12.614.871
her Turnus renegade? Is death a thing
12.614.872
so much to weep for? O propitious dead,
12.614.873
O spirits of the dark, receive and bless
12.614.874
me whom yon gods of light have cast away!
12.614.875
Sacred and guiltless shall my soul descend
12.614.876
to join your company; I have not been
12.614.877
unworthy offspring of my kingly sires.”
12.650.878
Scarce had he said, when through the foeman's line
12.650.879
Saces dashed forth upon a foaming steed,
12.650.880
his face gashed by an arrow. He cried loud
12.650.881
on Turnus' name: “O Turnus, but in thee
12.650.882
our last hope lies. Have pity on the woe
12.650.883
of all thy friends and kin! Aeneas hurls
12.650.884
his thunderbolt of war, and menaces
12.650.885
to crush the strongholds of all Italy,
12.650.886
and lay them low; already where we dwell
12.650.887
his firebrands are raining. Unto thee
12.650.888
the Latins Iook, and for thy valor call.
12.650.889
The King sits dumb and helpless, even he,
12.650.890
in doubt which son-in-law, which cause to choose.
12.650.891
Yea, and the Queen, thy truest friend, is fallen
12.650.892
by her own hand; gone mad with grief and fear,
12.650.893
she fled the light of day. At yonder gates
12.650.894
Messapus only and Atinas bear
12.650.895
the brunt of battle; round us closely draw
12.650.896
the serried ranks; their naked blades of steel
12.650.897
are thick as ripening corn; wilt thou the while
12.650.898
speed in thy chariot o'er this empty plain?”
12.650.899
Dazed and bewildered by such host of ills,
12.650.900
Turnus stood dumb; in his pent bosom stirred
12.650.901
shame, frenzy, sorrow, a despairing love
12.650.902
goaded to fury, and a warrior's pride
12.650.903
of valor proven.
12.672.904
But when first the light
12.672.905
of reason to his blinded soul returned,
12.672.906
he strained his flaming eyeballs to behold
12.672.907
the distant wall, and from his chariot gazed
12.672.908
in wonder at the lordly citadel.
12.672.909
For, lo, a pointed peak of flame uprolled
12.672.910
from tier to tier, and surging skyward seized
12.672.911
a tower—the very tower his own proud hands
12.672.912
had built of firm-set beams and wheeled in place,
12.672.913
and slung its Iofty bridges high in air.
12.672.914
“Fate is too strong, my sister! Seek no more
12.672.915
to stay the stroke. But let me hence pursue
12.672.916
that path where Heaven and cruel Fortune call.
12.672.917
Aeneas I must meet; and I must bear
12.672.918
the bitterness of death, whate'er it be.
12.672.919
O sister, thou shalt look upon my shame
12.672.920
no longer. But first grant a madman's will!”
12.672.921
He spoke; and leaping from his chariot, sped
12.672.922
through foes and foemen's spears, not seeing now
12.672.923
his sister's sorrow, as in swift career
12.672.924
he burst from line to line. Thus headlong falls
12.672.925
a mountain-boulder by a whirlwind flung
12.672.926
from lofty peak, or loosened by much rain,
12.672.927
or by insidious lapse of seasons gone;
12.672.928
the huge, resistless crag goes plunging down
12.672.929
by leaps and bounds, o'erwhelming as it flies
12.672.930
tall forests, Bocks and herds, and mortal men:
12.672.931
so through the scattered legions Turnus ran
12.672.932
straight to the city walls, where all the ground
12.672.933
was drenched with blood, and every passing air
12.672.934
shrieked with the noise of spears. His lifted hand
12.672.935
made sign of silence as he loudly called:
12.672.936
“Refrain, Rutulians! O ye Latins all,
12.672.937
your spears withhold! The issue of the fray
12.672.938
is all my own. I only can repair
12.672.939
our broken truce by judgment of the sword.”
12.672.940
Back fell the hostile lines, and cleared the field.
12.697.941
But Sire Aeneas, hearing Turnus' name,
12.697.942
down the steep rampart from the citadel
12.697.943
unlingering tried, all lesser task laid by,
12.697.944
with joy exultant and dread-thundering arms.
12.697.945
Like Athos' crest he loomed, or soaring top
12.697.946
of Eryx, when the nodding oaks resound,
12.697.947
or sovereign Apennine that lifts in air
12.697.948
his forehead of triumphant snow. All eyes
12.697.949
of Troy, Rutulia, and Italy
12.697.950
were fixed his way; and all who kept a guard
12.697.951
on lofty rampart, or in siege below
12.697.952
were battering the foundations, now laid by
12.697.953
their implements and arms. Latinus too
12.697.954
stood awestruck to behold such champions, born
12.697.955
in lands far-sundered, met upon one field
12.697.956
for one decisive stroke of sword with sword.
12.697.957
Swift striding forth where spread the vacant plain,
12.697.958
they hurled their spears from far; then in close fight
12.697.959
the brazen shields rang. Beneath their tread
12.697.960
Earth groaned aloud, as with redoubling blows
12.697.961
their falchions fell; nor could a mortal eye
12.697.962
'twixt chance and courage the dread work divide.
12.697.963
As o'er Taburnus' top, or spacious hills
12.697.964
of Sila, in relentless shock of war,
12.697.965
two bulls rush brow to brow, while terror-pale
12.697.966
the herdsmen fly; the herd is hushed with fear;
12.697.967
the heifers dumbly marvel which shall be
12.697.968
true monarch of the grove, whom all the kine
12.697.969
obedient follow; but the rival twain,
12.697.970
commingling mightily wound after wound,
12.697.971
thrust with opposing horns, and bathe their necks
12.697.972
in streams of blood; the forest far and wide
12.697.973
repeats their bellowing rage: not otherwise
12.697.974
Trojan Aeneas and King Daunus' son
12.697.975
clashed shield on shield, till all the vaulted sky
12.697.976
felt the tremendous sound. The hand of Jove
12.697.977
held scales in equipoise, and threw thereon
12.697.978
th' unequal fortunes of the heroes twain:
12.697.979
one to vast labors doomed and one to die.
12.728.980
Soon Turnus, reckless of the risk, leaped forth,
12.728.981
upreached his whole height to his lifted sword,
12.728.982
and struck: the Trojans and the Latins pale
12.728.983
cried mightily, and all eyes turned one way
12.728.984
expectant. But the weak, perfidious sword
12.728.985
broke off, and as the blow descended, failed
12.728.986
its furious master, whose sole succor now
12.728.987
was flight; and swifter than the wind he flew.
12.728.988
But, lo! a hilt of form and fashion strange
12.728.989
lay in his helpless hand. For in his haste,
12.728.990
when to the battle-field his team he drove,
12.728.991
his father's sword forgotten (such the tale),
12.728.992
he snatched Metiscus' weapon. This endured
12.728.993
to strike at Trojan backs, as he pursued,
12.728.994
but when on Vulcan's armory divine
12.728.995
its earthly metal smote, the brittle blade
12.728.996
broke off like ice, and o'er the yellow sands
12.728.997
in flashing fragments scattered. Turnus now
12.728.998
takes mad flight o'er the distant plain, and winds
12.728.999
in wavering gyration round and round;
12.728.1000
for Troy's close ring confines him, and one way
12.728.1001
a wide swamp lies, one way a frowning wall.
12.746.1002
But lo! Aeneas—though the arrow's wound
12.746.1003
still slackens him and oft his knees refuse
12.746.1004
their wonted step—pursues infuriate
12.746.1005
his quailing foe, and dogs him stride for stride.
12.746.1006
As when a stag-hound drives the baffled roe
12.746.1007
to torrent's edge (or where the flaunting snare
12.746.1008
of crimson feathers fearfully confines)
12.746.1009
and with incessant barking swift pursues;
12.746.1010
while through the snared copse or embankment high
12.746.1011
the frightened creature by a thousand ways
12.746.1012
doubles and turns; but that keen Umbrian hound
12.746.1013
with wide jaws, undesisting, grasps his prey,
12.746.1014
or, thinking that he grasps it, snaps his teeth
12.746.1015
cracking together, and deludes his rage,
12.746.1016
devouring empty air: then peal on peal
12.746.1017
the cry of hunters bursts; the lake and shore
12.746.1018
reecho, and confusion fills the sky:—
12.746.1019
such was the flight of Turnus, who reviled
12.746.1020
the Rutules as he fled, and loudly sued
12.746.1021
of each by name to fetch his own lost sword.
12.746.1022
Aeneas vowed destruction and swift death
12.746.1023
to all who dared come near, and terrified
12.746.1024
their trembling souls with menace that his power
12.746.1025
would raze their city to the ground. Straightway,
12.746.1026
though wounded, he gave chase, and five times round
12.746.1027
in circles ran; then winding left and right
12.746.1028
coursed the swift circles o'er. For, lo! the prize
12.746.1029
is no light laurel or a youthful game:
12.746.1030
for Turnus' doom and death their race is run.
12.766.1031
But haply in that place a sacred tree,
12.766.1032
a bitter-leaved wild-olive, once had grown,
12.766.1033
to Faunus dear, and venerated oft
12.766.1034
by mariners safe-rescued from the waves,
12.766.1035
who nailed their gifts thereon, or hung in air
12.766.1036
their votive garments to Laurentum's god.
12.766.1037
But, heeding not, the Teucrians had shorn
12.766.1038
the stem away, to clear the field for war.
12.766.1039
'T was here Aeneas' lance stuck fast; its speed
12.766.1040
had driven it firmly inward, and it clave
12.766.1041
to the hard, clinging root. Anchises' son
12.766.1042
bent o'er it, and would wrench his weapon free,
12.766.1043
and follow with a far-flung javelin
12.766.1044
the swift out-speeding foe. But Turnus then,
12.766.1045
bewildered and in terror, cried aloud:
12.766.1046
“O Faunus, pity me and heed my prayer!
12.766.1047
Hold fast his weapon, O benignant Earth!
12.766.1048
If ere these hands have rendered offering due,
12.766.1049
where yon polluting Teucrians fight and slay.”
12.766.1050
He spoke; invoking succor of the god,
12.766.1051
with no Iost prayer. For tugging valiantly
12.766.1052
and laboring long against the stubborn stem,
12.766.1053
Aeneas with his whole strength could but fail
12.766.1054
to Ioose the clasping tree. While fiercely thus
12.766.1055
he strove and strained, Juturna once again,
12.766.1056
wearing the charioteer Metiscus' shape,
12.766.1057
ran to her brother's aid, restoring him
12.766.1058
his own true sword. But Venus, wroth to see
12.766.1059
what license to the dauntless nymph was given,
12.766.1060
herself came near, and plucked from that deep root
12.766.1061
the javelin forth. So both with lofty mien
12.766.1062
strode forth new-armed, new-hearted: one made bold
12.766.1063
by his good sword, the other, spear in hand,
12.766.1064
uptowered in wrath, and with confronting brows
12.766.1065
they set them to the war-god's breathless game.
12.791.1066
Meanwhile th' Olympian sovereign supreme
12.791.1067
to Juno speaks, as from an amber cloud
12.791.1068
the strife she views: “My Queen, what end shall be?
12.791.1069
What yet remains? Thou seest Aeneas' name
12.791.1070
numbered with tutelary gods of power;
12.791.1071
and well thou know'st what station in the sky
12.791.1072
his starward destiny intends. What scheme
12.791.1073
vexes thy bosom still? What stubborn hope,
12.791.1074
fostered in cloud and cold? O, was it well
12.791.1075
to desecrate a god with mortal wound;
12.791.1076
or well (what were a nymph unhelped by thee?)
12.791.1077
to give back Turnus his lost sword, and lend
12.791.1078
strength unavailing to the fallen brave?
12.791.1079
Give o'er, and to our supplication yield;
12.791.1080
let not such grief thy voiceless heart devour;
12.791.1081
nor from thy sweet lips let thy mournful care
12.791.1082
so oft assail my mind. For now is come
12.791.1083
the last decisive day. Thy power availed
12.791.1084
to vex the Trojans upon land and sea,
12.791.1085
to wake abominable war, bring shame
12.791.1086
upon a royal house, and mix the songs
12.791.1087
of marriage and the grave: but further act
12.791.1088
I thee refuse.” Such was the word of Jove.
12.791.1089
12.791.1089
Thus Saturn's daughter answered, drooping low
12.791.1090
her brows divine: “Because, great Jove, I knew
12.791.1091
thy pleasure, I from yonder earth retired
12.791.1092
and Turnus' cause, tho, with unwilling mind.
12.791.1093
Else shouldst thou not behold me at this hour
12.791.1094
Upon my solitary throne of air
12.791.1095
enduring fair and foul; I should be found
12.791.1096
flame-girded on the battle's deadly verge,
12.791.1097
tempting the Teucrians to a hated war.
12.791.1098
Yea, 't was my motion thrust Juturna forth
12.791.1099
to help her hapless brother. I approved—
12.791.1100
to save his life—that she should be too bold;
12.791.1101
but bade no whirl of spear nor bending bow:
12.791.1102
I swear it by th' inexorable fount
12.791.1103
whence flow the Stygian rivers, the sole seat
12.791.1104
where gods of light bow down in awful prayer.
12.791.1105
I yield me now; heart-sick I quit the war.
12.791.1106
But ask one boon, which in the book of fate
12.791.1107
is not denied; for Latium's good I sue,
12.791.1108
and high prerogatives of men that be
12.791.1109
thy kith and kin: when happy wedlock vows
12.791.1110
(aye, be it so!) shall join them by strong laws
12.791.1111
of chartered peace, let not the Latins Iose
12.791.1112
their ancient, native name. Bid them not pass
12.791.1113
for Trojans, nor be hailed as Teucer's sons;
12.791.1114
no alien speech, no alien garb impose.
12.791.1115
Let it be Latium ever; let the lords
12.791.1116
of Alba unto distant ages reign;
12.791.1117
let the strong, master blood of Rome receive
12.791.1118
the manhood and the might of Italy.
12.791.1119
Troy perished: let its name and glory die!”
12.791.1120
The Author of mankind and all that is,
12.791.1121
smiling benignant, answered thus her plea:
12.791.1122
“Jove's sister true, and Saturn's second child,
12.791.1123
what seas of anger vex thy heart divine!
12.791.1124
But come, relinquish thy rash, fruitless rage:
12.791.1125
I give thee this desire, and yield to thee
12.791.1126
free submission. The Ausonian tribes
12.791.1127
shall keep the speech and customs of their sires;
12.791.1128
the name remains as now; the Teucrian race,
12.791.1129
abiding in the land, shall but infuse
12.791.1130
the mixture of its blood. I will bestow
12.791.1131
a league of worship, and to Latins give
12.791.1132
one language only. From the mingled breed
12.791.1133
a people shall come forth whom thou shalt see
12.791.1134
surpass all mortal men and even outvie
12.791.1135
the faithfulness of gods; for none that live
12.791.1136
shall render to thy name an equal praise.”
12.791.1137
So Juno bowed consent, and let her will
12.791.1138
be changed, as with much comfort in her breast
12.791.1139
she left Olympus and her haunt of cloud.
12.843.1140
After these things Jove gave his kingly mind
12.843.1141
to further action, that he might forthwith
12.843.1142
cut off Juturna from her brother's cause.
12.843.1143
Two plagues there be, called Furies, which were spawned
12.843.1144
at one birth from the womb of wrathful Night
12.843.1145
with dread Megaera, phantom out of hell;
12.843.1146
and of their mother's gift, each Fury wears
12.843.1147
grim-coiling serpents and tempestuous wings.
12.843.1148
These at Jove's throne attend, and watch the doors
12.843.1149
of that stern King—to whet the edge of fear
12.843.1150
for wretched mortals, when the King of gods
12.843.1151
hurls pestilence and death, or terrifies
12.843.1152
offending nations with the scourge of war.
12.843.1153
'T was one of these which Jove sent speeding down
12.843.1154
from his ethereal seat, and bade her cross
12.843.1155
the pathway of Juturna for a sign.
12.843.1156
Her wings she spread, and earthward seemed to ride
12.843.1157
upon a whirling storm. As when some shaft,
12.843.1158
with Parthian poison tipped or Cretan gall,
12.843.1159
a barb of death, shoots cloudward from the bow,
12.843.1160
and hissing through the dark hastes forth unseen:
12.843.1161
so earthward flew that daughter of the night.
12.843.1162
Soon as she spied the Teucrians in array
12.843.1163
and Turnus' lines, she shrivelled to the shape
12.843.1164
of that small bird which on lone tombs and towers
12.843.1165
sits perching through the midnight, and prolongs
12.843.1166
in shadow and deep gloom her troubling cry.
12.843.1167
In such disguise the Fury, screaming shrill,
12.843.1168
flitted in Turnus' face, and with her wings
12.843.1169
smote on his hollow shield. A strange affright
12.843.1170
palsied his every limb; each several hair
12.843.1171
lifted with horror, and his gasping voice
12.843.1172
died on his lips. But when Juturna knew
12.843.1173
from far the shrieking fiend's infernal wing,
12.843.1174
she loosed her tresses, and their beauty tore,
12.843.1175
to tell a sister's woe; with clenching hands
12.843.1176
she marred her cheeks and beat her naked breast.
12.843.1177
“What remedy or help, my Turnus, now
12.843.1178
is in a sister's power? What way remains
12.843.1179
for stubborn me? Or with what further guile
12.843.1180
thy life prolong? What can my strength oppose
12.843.1181
to this foul thing? I quit the strife at last.
12.843.1182
Withdraw thy terror from my fearful eyes,
12.843.1183
thou bird accurst! The tumult of thy wings
12.843.1184
I know full well, and thy death-boding call.
12.843.1185
The harsh decrees of that large-minded Jove
12.843.1186
I plainly see. Is this the price he pays
12.843.1187
for my lost maidenhood? Why flatter me
12.843.1188
with immortality, and snatch away
12.843.1189
my property of death? What boon it were
12.843.1190
to end this grief this hour, and hie away
12.843.1191
to be my brother's helpmeet in his grave!
12.843.1192
I, an immortal? O, what dear delight
12.843.1193
is mine, sweet brother, living without thee?
12.843.1194
O, where will earth yawn deep enough and wide
12.843.1195
to hide a goddess with the ghosts below?”
12.843.1196
She spoke; and veiled in glistening mantle gray
12.843.1197
her mournful brow; then in her stream divine
12.843.1198
the nymph sank sighing to its utmost cave.
12.887.1199
Aeneas now is near; and waving wide
12.887.1200
a spear like some tall tree, he called aloud
12.887.1201
with unrelenting heart: “What stays thee now?
12.887.1202
Or wherefore, Turnus, backward fly? Our work
12.887.1203
is not a foot-race, but the wrathful strife
12.887.1204
of man with man. Aye, hasten to put on
12.887.1205
tricks and disguises; gather all thou hast
12.887.1206
of skill or courage; wish thou wert a bird
12.887.1207
to fly to starry heaven, or hide thy head
12.887.1208
safe in the hollow ground!” The other then
12.887.1209
shook his head, saying: “It is not thy words,
12.887.1210
not thy hot words, affright me, savage man!
12.887.1211
Only the gods I fear, and hostile Jove.”
12.887.1212
Silent he stood, and glancing round him saw
12.887.1213
a huge rock Iying by, huge rock and old,
12.887.1214
a landmark justly sundering field from field,
12.887.1215
which scarce six strong men's shoulders might upraise,
12.887.1216
such men as mother-Earth brings forth to-day:
12.887.1217
this grasped he with impetuous hand and hurled,
12.887.1218
stretched at full height and roused to all his speed,
12.887.1219
against his foe. Yet scarcely could he feel
12.887.1220
it was himself that ran, himself that moved
12.887.1221
with lifted hand to fling the monster stone;
12.887.1222
for his knees trembled, and his languid blood
12.887.1223
ran shuddering cold; nor could the stone he threw,
12.887.1224
tumbling in empty air, attain its goal
12.887.1225
nor strike the destined blow. But as in dreams,
12.887.1226
when helpless slumber binds the darkened eyes,
12.887.1227
we seem with fond desire to tread in vain
12.887.1228
along a lengthening road, yet faint and fall
12.887.1229
when straining to the utmost, and the tongue
12.887.1230
is palsied, and the body's wonted power
12.887.1231
obeys not, and we have no speech or cry:
12.887.1232
so unto Turnus, whatsoever way
12.887.1233
his valiant spirit moved, the direful Fiend
12.887.1234
stopped in the act his will. Swift-changing thoughts
12.887.1235
rush o'er his soul; on the Rutulian host,
12.887.1236
then at the town he glares, shrinks back in fear,
12.887.1237
and trembles at th' impending lance; nor sees
12.887.1238
what path to fly, what way confront the foe:—
12.887.1239
no chariot now, nor sister-charioteer!
12.919.1240
Above his faltering terror gleams in air
12.919.1241
Aeneas' fatal spear; whose eye perceived
12.919.1242
the moment of success, and all whose strength
12.919.1243
struck forth: the vast and ponderous rock outflung
12.919.1244
from engines which make breach in sieged walls
12.919.1245
not louder roars nor breaks in thunder-sound
12.919.1246
more terrible; like some black whirlwind flew
12.919.1247
the death-delivering spear, and, rending wide
12.919.1248
the corselet's edges and the heavy rim
12.919.1249
of the last circles of the seven-fold shield,
12.919.1250
pierced, hissing, through the thigh. Huge Turnus sinks
12.919.1251
o'erwhelmed upon the ground with doubling knee.
12.919.1252
Up spring the Rutules, groaning; the whole hill
12.919.1253
roars answering round them, and from far and wide
12.919.1254
the lofty groves give back an echoing cry.
12.919.1255
Lowly, with suppliant eyes, and holding forth
12.919.1256
his hand in prayer: “I have my meed,” he cried,
12.919.1257
“Nor ask for mercy. Use what Fate has given!
12.919.1258
But if a father's grief upon thy heart
12.919.1259
have power at all,—for Sire Anchises once
12.919.1260
to thee was dear,—I pray thee to show grace
12.919.1261
to Daunus in his desolate old age;
12.919.1262
and me, or, if thou wilt, my lifeless clay,
12.919.1263
to him and his restore. For, lo, thou art
12.919.1264
my conqueror! Ausonia's eyes have seen
12.919.1265
me suppliant, me fallen. Thou hast made
12.919.1266
Lavinia thy bride. Why further urge
12.919.1267
our enmity?”With swift and dreadful arms
12.919.1268
Aeneas o'er him stood, with rolling eyes,
12.919.1269
but his bare sword restraining; for such words
12.919.1270
moved on him more and more: when suddenly,
12.919.1271
over the mighty shoulder slung, he saw
12.919.1272
that fatal baldric studded with bright gold
12.919.1273
which youthful Pallas wore, what time he fell
12.919.1274
vanquished by Turnus' stroke, whose shoulders now
12.919.1275
carried such trophy of a foeman slain.
12.919.1276
Aeneas' eyes took sure and slow survey
12.919.1277
of spoils that were the proof and memory
12.919.1278
of cruel sorrow; then with kindling rage
12.919.1279
and terrifying look, he cried, “Wouldst thou,
12.919.1280
clad in a prize stripped off my chosen friend,
12.919.1281
escape this hand? In this thy mortal wound
12.919.1282
't is Pallas has a victim; Pallas takes
12.919.1283
the lawful forfeit of thy guilty blood!”
12.919.1284
He said, and buried deep his furious blade
12.919.1285
in the opposer's heart. The failing limbs
12.919.1286
sank cold and helpless; and the vital breath
12.919.1287
with moan of wrath to darkness fled away.