Book 11

1 Scarce had the rosy Morning rais'd her head
2 Above the waves, and left her wat'ry bed;
3 The pious chief, whom double cares attend
4 For his unburied soldiers and his friend,
5 Yet first to Heav'n perform'd a victor's vows:
6 He bar'd an ancient oak of all her boughs;
7 Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac'd,
8 Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac'd.
9 The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn,
10 Now on a naked snag in triumph borne,
11 Was hung on high, and glitter'd from afar,
12 A trophy sacred to the God of War.
13 Above his arms, fix'd on the leafless wood,
14 Appear'd his plumy crest, besmear'd with blood:
15 His brazen buckler on the left was seen;
16 Truncheons of shiver'd lances hung between;
17 And on the right was placed his corslet, bor'd;
18 And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword.

19 A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man,
20 Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began:
21 "Our toils, my friends, are crown'd with sure success;
22 The greater part perform'd, achieve the less.
23 Now follow cheerful to the trembling town;
24 Press but an entrance, and presume it won.
25 Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies,
26 As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice.
27 Turnus shall fall extended on the plain,
28 And, in this omen, is already slain.
29 Prepar'd in arms, pursue your happy chance;
30 That none unwarn'd may plead his ignorance,
31 And I, at Heav'n's appointed hour, may find
32 Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind.
33 Meantime the rites and fun'ral pomps prepare,
34 Due to your dead companions of the war:
35 The last respect the living can bestow,
36 To shield their shadows from contempt below.
37 That conquer'd earth be theirs, for which they fought,
38 And which for us with their own blood they bought;
39 But first the corpse of our unhappy friend
40 To the sad city of Evander send,
41 Who, not inglorious, in his age's bloom,
42 Was hurried hence by too severe a doom."

43 Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way,
44 Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay.
45 Acoetes watch'd the corpse; whose youth deserv'd
46 The father's trust; and now the son he serv'd
47 With equal faith, but less auspicious care.
48 Th' attendants of the slain his sorrow share.
49 A troop of Trojans mix'd with these appear,
50 And mourning matrons with dishevel'd hair.
51 Soon as the prince appears, they raise a cry;
52 All beat their breasts, and echoes rend the sky.
53 They rear his drooping forehead from the ground;
54 But, when Aeneas view'd the grisly wound
55 Which Pallas in his manly bosom bore,
56 And the fair flesh distain'd with purple gore;
57 First, melting into tears, the pious man
58 Deplor'd so sad a sight, then thus began:
59 "Unhappy youth! when Fortune gave the rest
60 Of my full wishes, she refus'd the best!
61 She came; but brought not thee along, to bless
62 My longing eyes, and share in my success:
63 She grudg'd thy safe return, the triumphs due
64 To prosp'rous valor, in the public view.
65 Not thus I promis'd, when thy father lent
66 Thy needless succor with a sad consent;
67 Embrac'd me, parting for th' Etrurian land,
68 And sent me to possess a large command.
69 He warn'd, and from his own experience told,
70 Our foes were warlike, disciplin'd, and bold.
71 And now perhaps, in hopes of thy return,
72 Rich odors on his loaded altars burn,
73 While we, with vain officious pomp, prepare
74 To send him back his portion of the war,
75 A bloody breathless body, which can owe
76 No farther debt, but to the pow'rs below.
77 The wretched father, ere his race is run,
78 Shall view the fun'ral honors of his son.
79 These are my triumphs of the Latian war,
80 Fruits of my plighted faith and boasted care!
81 And yet, unhappy sire, thou shalt not see
82 A son whose death disgrac'd his ancestry;
83 Thou shalt not blush, old man, however griev'd:
84 Thy Pallas no dishonest wound receiv'd.
85 He died no death to make thee wish, too late,
86 Thou hadst not liv'd to see his shameful fate:
87 But what a champion has th' Ausonian coast,
88 And what a friend hast thou, Ascanius, lost!"

89 Thus having mourn'd, he gave the word around,
90 To raise the breathless body from the ground;
91 And chose a thousand horse, the flow'r of all
92 His warlike troops, to wait the funeral,
93 To bear him back and share Evander's grief:
94 A well-becoming, but a weak relief.
95 Of oaken twigs they twist an easy bier,
96 Then on their shoulders the sad burden rear.
97 The body on this rural hearse is borne:
98 Strew'd leaves and funeral greens the bier adorn.
99 All pale he lies, and looks a lovely flow'r,
100 New cropp'd by virgin hands, to dress the bow'r:
101 Unfaded yet, but yet unfed below,
102 No more to mother earth or the green stern shall owe.
103 Then two fair vests, of wondrous work and cost,
104 Of purple woven, and with gold emboss'd,
105 For ornament the Trojan hero brought,
106 Which with her hands Sidonian Dido wrought.
107 One vest array'd the corpse; and one they spread
108 O'er his clos'd eyes, and wrapp'd around his head,
109 That, when the yellow hair in flame should fall,
110 The catching fire might burn the golden caul.
111 Besides, the spoils of foes in battle slain,
112 When he descended on the Latian plain;
113 Arms, trappings, horses, by the hearse are led
114 In long array- th' achievements of the dead.
115 Then, pinion'd with their hands behind, appear
116 Th' unhappy captives, marching in the rear,
117 Appointed off'rings in the victor's name,
118 To sprinkle with their blood the fun'ral flame.
119 Inferior trophies by the chiefs are borne;
120 Gauntlets and helms their loaded hands adorn;
121 And fair inscriptions fix'd, and titles read
122 Of Latian leaders conquer'd by the dead.

123 Acoetes on his pupil's corpse attends,
124 With feeble steps, supported by his friends.
125 Pausing at ev'ry pace, in sorrow drown'd,
126 Betwixt their arms he sinks upon the ground;
127 Where grov'ling while he lies in deep despair,
128 He beats his breast, and rends his hoary hair.
129 The champion's chariot next is seen to roll,
130 Besmear'd with hostile blood, and honorably foul.
131 To close the pomp, Aethon, the steed of state,
132 Is led, the fun'rals of his lord to wait.
133 Stripp'd of his trappings, with a sullen pace
134 He walks; and the big tears run rolling down his face.
135 The lance of Pallas, and the crimson crest,
136 Are borne behind: the victor seiz'd the rest.
137 The march begins: the trumpets hoarsely sound;
138 The pikes and lances trail along the ground.
139 Thus while the Trojan and Arcadian horse
140 To Pallantean tow'rs direct their course,
141 In long procession rank'd, the pious chief
142 Stopp'd in the rear, and gave a vent to grief:
143 "The public care," he said, "which war attends,
144 Diverts our present woes, at least suspends.
145 Peace with the manes of great Pallas dwell!
146 Hail, holy relics! and a last farewell!"
147 He said no more, but, inly thro' he mourn'd,
148 Restrained his tears, and to the camp return'd.

149 Now suppliants, from Laurentum sent, demand
150 A truce, with olive branches in their hand;
151 Obtest his clemency, and from the plain
152 Beg leave to draw the bodies of their slain.
153 They plead, that none those common rites deny
154 To conquer'd foes that in fair battle die.
155 All cause of hate was ended in their death;
156 Nor could he war with bodies void of breath.
157 A king, they hop'd, would hear a king's request,
158 Whose son he once was call'd, and once his guest.

159 Their suit, which was too just to be denied,
160 The hero grants, and farther thus replied:
161 "O Latian princes, how severe a fate
162 In causeless quarrels has involv'd your state,
163 And arm'd against an unoffending man,
164 Who sought your friendship ere the war began!
165 You beg a truce, which I would gladly give,
166 Not only for the slain, but those who live.
167 I came not hither but by Heav'n's command,
168 And sent by fate to share the Latian land.
169 Nor wage I wars unjust: your king denied
170 My proffer'd friendship, and my promis'd bride;
171 Left me for Turnus. Turnus then should try
172 His cause in arms, to conquer or to die.
173 My right and his are in dispute: the slain
174 Fell without fault, our quarrel to maintain.
175 In equal arms let us alone contend;
176 And let him vanquish, whom his fates befriend.
177 This is the way (so tell him) to possess
178 The royal virgin, and restore the peace.
179 Bear this message back, with ample leave,
180 That your slain friends may fun'ral rites receive."

181 Thus having said- th' embassadors, amaz'd,
182 Stood mute a while, and on each other gaz'd.
183 Drances, their chief, who harbor'd in his breast
184 Long hate to Turnus, as his foe profess'd,
185 Broke silence first, and to the godlike man,
186 With graceful action bowing, thus began:
187 "Auspicious prince, in arms a mighty name,
188 But yet whose actions far transcend your fame;
189 Would I your justice or your force express,
190 Thought can but equal; and all words are less.
191 Your answer we shall thankfully relate,
192 And favors granted to the Latian state.
193 If wish'd success our labor shall attend,
194 Think peace concluded, and the king your friend:
195 Let Turnus leave the realm to your command,
196 And seek alliance in some other land:
197 Build you the city which your fates assign;
198 We shall be proud in the great work to join."

199 Thus Drances; and his words so well persuade
200 The rest impower'd, that soon a truce is made.
201 Twelve days the term allow'd: and, during those,
202 Latians and Trojans, now no longer foes,
203 Mix'd in the woods, for fun'ral piles prepare
204 To fell the timber, and forget the war.
205 Loud axes thro' the groaning groves resound;
206 Oak, mountain ash, and poplar spread the ground;
207 First fall from high; and some the trunks receive
208 In loaden wains; with wedges some they cleave.

209 And now the fatal news by Fame is blown
210 Thro' the short circuit of th' Arcadian town,
211 Of Pallas slain- by Fame, which just before
212 His triumphs on distended pinions bore.
213 Rushing from out the gate, the people stand,
214 Each with a fun'ral flambeau in his hand.
215 Wildly they stare, distracted with amaze:
216 The fields are lighten'd with a fiery blaze,
217 That cast a sullen splendor on their friends,
218 The marching troop which their dead prince attends.
219 Both parties meet: they raise a doleful cry;
220 The matrons from the walls with shrieks reply,
221 And their mix'd mourning rends the vaulted sky.
222 The town is fill'd with tumult and with tears,
223 Till the loud clamors reach Evander's ears:
224 Forgetful of his state, he runs along,
225 With a disorder'd pace, and cleaves the throng;
226 Falls on the corpse; and groaning there he lies,
227 With silent grief, that speaks but at his eyes.
228 Short sighs and sobs succeed; till sorrow breaks
229 A passage, and at once he weeps and speaks:

230 "O Pallas! thou hast fail'd thy plighted word,
231 To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword!
232 I warn'd thee, but in vain; for well I knew
233 What perils youthful ardor would pursue,
234 That boiling blood would carry thee too far,
235 Young as thou wert in dangers, raw to war!
236 O curst essay of arms, disastrous doom,
237 Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come!
238 Hard elements of unauspicious war,
239 Vain vows to Heav'n, and unavailing care!
240 Thrice happy thou, dear partner of my bed,
241 Whose holy soul the stroke of Fortune fled,
242 Praescious of ills, and leaving me behind,
243 To drink the dregs of life by fate assign'd!
244 Beyond the goal of nature I have gone:
245 My Pallas late set out, but reach'd too soon.
246 If, for my league against th' Ausonian state,
247 Amidst their weapons I had found my fate,
248 (Deserv'd from them,) then I had been return'd
249 A breathless victor, and my son had mourn'd.
250 Yet will I not my Trojan friend upbraid,
251 Nor grudge th' alliance I so gladly made.
252 'T was not his fault, my Pallas fell so young,
253 But my own crime, for having liv'd too long.
254 Yet, since the gods had destin'd him to die,
255 At least he led the way to victory:
256 First for his friends he won the fatal shore,
257 And sent whole herds of slaughter'd foes before;
258 A death too great, too glorious to deplore.
259 Nor will I add new honors to thy grave,
260 Content with those the Trojan hero gave:
261 That funeral pomp thy Phrygian friends design'd,
262 In which the Tuscan chiefs and army join'd.
263 Great spoils and trophies, gain'd by thee, they bear:
264 Then let thy own achievements be thy share.
265 Even thou, O Turnus, hadst a trophy stood,
266 Whose mighty trunk had better grac'd the wood,
267 If Pallas had arriv'd, with equal length
268 Of years, to match thy bulk with equal strength.
269 But why, unhappy man, dost thou detain
270 These troops, to view the tears thou shedd'st in vain?
271 Go, friends, this message to your lord relate:
272 Tell him, that, if I bear my bitter fate,
273 And, after Pallas' death, live ling'ring on,
274 'T is to behold his vengeance for my son.
275 I stay for Turnus, whose devoted head
276 Is owing to the living and the dead.
277 My son and I expect it from his hand;
278 'T is all that he can give, or we demand.
279 Joy is no more; but I would gladly go,
280 To greet my Pallas with such news below."

281 The morn had now dispell'd the shades of night,
282 Restoring toils, when she restor'd the light.
283 The Trojan king and Tuscan chief command
284 To raise the piles along the winding strand.
285 Their friends convey the dead fun'ral fires;
286 Black smold'ring smoke from the green wood expires;
287 The light of heav'n is chok'd, and the new day retires.
288 Then thrice around the kindled piles they go
289 (For ancient custom had ordain'd it so)
290 Thrice horse and foot about the fires are led;
291 And thrice, with loud laments, they hail the dead.
292 Tears, trickling down their breasts, bedew the ground,
293 And drums and trumpets mix their mournful sound.
294 Amid the blaze, their pious brethren throw
295 The spoils, in battle taken from the foe:
296 Helms, bits emboss'd, and swords of shining steel;
297 One casts a target, one a chariot wheel;
298 Some to their fellows their own arms restore:
299 The fauchions which in luckless fight they bore,
300 Their bucklers pierc'd, their darts bestow'd in vain,
301 And shiver'd lances gather'd from the plain.
302 Whole herds of offer'd bulls, about the fire,
303 And bristled boars, and woolly sheep expire.
304 Around the piles a careful troop attends,
305 To watch the wasting flames, and weep their burning friends;
306 Ling'ring along the shore, till dewy night
307 New decks the face of heav'n with starry light.

308 The conquer'd Latians, with like pious care,
309 Piles without number for their dead prepare.
310 Part in the places where they fell are laid;
311 And part are to the neighb'ring fields convey'd.
312 The corps of kings, and captains of renown,
313 Borne off in state, are buried in the town;
314 The rest, unhonor'd, and without a name,
315 Are cast a common heap to feed the flame.
316 Trojans and Latians vie with like desires
317 To make the field of battle shine with fires,
318 And the promiscuous blaze to heav'n aspires.

319 Now had the morning thrice renew'd the light,
320 And thrice dispell'd the shadows of the night,
321 When those who round the wasted fires remain,
322 Perform the last sad office to the slain.
323 They rake the yet warm ashes from below;
324 These, and the bones unburn'd, in earth bestow;
325 These relics with their country rites they grace,
326 And raise a mount of turf to mark the place.

327 But, in the palace of the king, appears
328 A scene more solemn, and a pomp of tears.
329 Maids, matrons, widows, mix their common moans;
330 Orphans their sires, and sires lament their sons.
331 All in that universal sorrow share,
332 And curse the cause of this unhappy war:
333 A broken league, a bride unjustly sought,
334 A crown usurp'd, which with their blood is bought!
335 These are the crimes with which they load the name
336 Of Turnus, and on him alone exclaim:
337 "Let him who lords it o'er th' Ausonian land
338 Engage the Trojan hero hand to hand:
339 His is the gain; our lot is but to serve;
340 'T is just, the sway he seeks, he should deserve."
341 This Drances aggravates; and adds, with spite:
342 "His foe expects, and dares him to the fight."
343 Nor Turnus wants a party, to support
344 His cause and credit in the Latian court.
345 His former acts secure his present fame,
346 And the queen shades him with her mighty name.

347 While thus their factious minds with fury burn,
348 The legates from th' Aetolian prince return:
349 Sad news they bring, that, after all the cost
350 And care employ'd, their embassy is lost;
351 That Diomedes refus'd his aid in war,
352 Unmov'd with presents, and as deaf to pray'r.
353 Some new alliance must elsewhere be sought,
354 Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought.

355 Latinus, sunk in sorrow, finds too late,
356 A foreign son is pointed out by fate;
357 And, till Aeneas shall Lavinia wed,
358 The wrath of Heav'n is hov'ring o'er his head.
359 The gods, he saw, espous'd the juster side,
360 When late their titles in the field were tried:
361 Witness the fresh laments, and fun'ral tears undried.
362 Thus, full of anxious thought, he summons all
363 The Latian senate to the council hall.
364 The princes come, commanded by their head,
365 And crowd the paths that to the palace lead.
366 Supreme in pow'r, and reverenc'd for his years,
367 He takes the throne, and in the midst appears.
368 Majestically sad, he sits in state,
369 And bids his envoys their success relate.

370 When Venulus began, the murmuring sound
371 Was hush'd, and sacred silence reign'd around.
372 "We have," said he, "perform'd your high command,
373 And pass'd with peril a long tract of land:
374 We reach'd the place desir'd; with wonder fill'd,
375 The Grecian tents and rising tow'rs beheld.
376 Great Diomede has compass'd round with walls
377 The city, which Argyripa he calls,
378 From his own Argos nam'd. We touch'd, with joy,
379 The royal hand that raz'd unhappy Troy.
380 When introduc'd, our presents first we bring,
381 Then crave an instant audience from the king.
382 His leave obtain'd, our native soil we name,
383 And tell th' important cause for which we came.
384 Attentively he heard us, while we spoke;
385 Then, with soft accents, and a pleasing look,
386 Made this return: 'Ausonian race, of old
387 Renown'd for peace, and for an age of gold,
388 What madness has your alter'd minds possess'd,
389 To change for war hereditary rest,
390 Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the sword,
391 A needless ill your ancestors abhorr'd?
392 We- for myself I speak, and all the name
393 Of Grecians, who to Troy's destruction came,
394 Omitting those who were in battle slain,
395 Or borne by rolling Simois to the main-
396 Not one but suffer'd, and too dearly bought
397 The prize of honor which in arms he sought;
398 Some doom'd to death, and some in exile driv'n.
399 Outcasts, abandon'd by the care of Heav'n;
400 So worn, so wretched, so despis'd a crew,
401 As ev'n old Priam might with pity view.
402 Witness the vessels by Minerva toss'd
403 In storms; the vengeful Capharean coast;
404 Th' Euboean rocks! the prince, whose brother led
405 Our armies to revenge his injur'd bed,
406 In Egypt lost! Ulysses with his men
407 Have seen Charybdis and the Cyclops' den.
408 Why should I name Idomeneus, in vain
409 Restor'd to scepters, and expell'd again?
410 Or young Achilles, by his rival slain?
411 Ev'n he, the King of Men, the foremost name
412 Of all the Greeks, and most renown'd by fame,
413 The proud revenger of another's wife,
414 Yet by his own adult'ress lost his life;
415 Fell at his threshold; and the spoils of Troy
416 The foul polluters of his bed enjoy.
417 The gods have envied me the sweets of life,
418 My much lov'd country, and my more lov'd wife:
419 Banish'd from both, I mourn; while in the sky,
420 Transform'd to birds, my lost companions fly:
421 Hov'ring about the coasts, they make their moan,
422 And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own.
423 What squalid specters, in the dead of night,
424 Break my short sleep, and skim before my sight!
425 I might have promis'd to myself those harms,
426 Mad as I was, when I, with mortal arms,
427 Presum'd against immortal pow'rs to move,
428 And violate with wounds the Queen of Love.
429 Such arms this hand shall never more employ;
430 No hate remains with me to ruin'd Troy.
431 I war not with its dust; nor am I glad
432 To think of past events, or good or bad.
433 Your presents I return: whate'er you bring
434 To buy my friendship, send the Trojan king.
435 We met in fight; I know him, to my cost:
436 With what a whirling force his lance he toss'd!
437 Heav'ns! what a spring was in his arm, to throw!
438 How high he held his shield, and rose at ev'ry blow!
439 Had Troy produc'd two more his match in might,
440 They would have chang'd the fortune of the fight:
441 Th' invasion of the Greeks had been return'd,
442 Our empire wasted, and our cities burn'd.
443 The long defense the Trojan people made,
444 The war protracted, and the siege delay'd,
445 Were due to Hector's and this hero's hand:
446 Both brave alike, and equal in command;
447 Aeneas, not inferior in the field,
448 In pious reverence to the gods excell'd.
449 Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care
450 Th' impending dangers of a fatal war.'
451 He said no more; but, with this cold excuse,
452 Refus'd th' alliance, and advis'd a truce."

453 Thus Venulus concluded his report.
454 A jarring murmur fill'd the factious court:
455 As, when a torrent rolls with rapid force,
456 And dashes o'er the stones that stop the course,
457 The flood, constrain'd within a scanty space,
458 Roars horrible along th' uneasy race;
459 White foam in gath'ring eddies floats around;
460 The rocky shores rebellow to the sound.

461 The murmur ceas'd: then from his lofty throne
462 The king invok'd the gods, and thus begun:
463 "I wish, ye Latins, what we now debate
464 Had been resolv'd before it was too late.
465 Much better had it been for you and me,
466 Unforc'd by this our last necessity,
467 To have been earlier wise, than now to call
468 A council, when the foe surrounds the wall.
469 O citizens, we wage unequal war,
470 With men not only Heav'n's peculiar care,
471 But Heav'n's own race; unconquer'd in the field,
472 Or, conquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield.
473 What hopes you had in Diomedes, lay down:
474 Our hopes must center on ourselves alone.
475 Yet those how feeble, and, indeed, how vain,
476 You see too well; nor need my words explain.
477 Vanquish'd without resource; laid flat by fate;
478 Factions within, a foe without the gate!
479 Not but I grant that all perform'd their parts
480 With manly force, and with undaunted hearts:
481 With our united strength the war we wag'd;
482 With equal numbers, equal arms, engag'd.
483 You see th' event.- Now hear what I propose,
484 To save our friends, and satisfy our foes.
485 A tract of land the Latins have possess'd
486 Along the Tiber, stretching to the west,
487 Which now Rutulians and Auruncans till,
488 And their mix'd cattle graze the fruitful hill.
489 Those mountains fill'd with firs, that lower land,
490 If you consent, the Trojan shall command,
491 Call'd into part of what is ours; and there,
492 On terms agreed, the common country share.
493 There let'em build and settle, if they please;
494 Unless they choose once more to cross the seas,
495 In search of seats remote from Italy,
496 And from unwelcome inmates set us free.
497 Then twice ten galleys let us build with speed,
498 Or twice as many more, if more they need.
499 Materials are at hand; a well-grown wood
500 Runs equal with the margin of the flood:
501 Let them the number and the form assign;
502 The care and cost of all the stores be mine.
503 To treat the peace, a hundred senators
504 Shall be commission'd hence with ample pow'rs,
505 With olive the presents they shall bear,
506 A purple robe, a royal iv'ry chair,
507 And all the marks of sway that Latian monarchs wear,
508 And sums of gold. Among yourselves debate
509 This great affair, and save the sinking state."

510 Then Drances took the word, who grudg'd, long since,
511 The rising glories of the Daunian prince.
512 Factious and rich, bold at the council board,
513 But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword;
514 A close caballer, and tongue-valiant lord.
515 Noble his mother was, and near the throne;
516 But, what his father's parentage, unknown.
517 He rose, and took th' advantage of the times,
518 To load young Turnus with invidious crimes.
519 "Such truths, O king," said he, "your words contain,
520 As strike the sense, and all replies are vain;
521 Nor are your loyal subjects now to seek
522 What common needs require, but fear to speak.
523 Let him give leave of speech, that haughty man,
524 Whose pride this unauspicious war began;
525 For whose ambition (let me dare to say,
526 Fear set apart, tho' death is in my way)
527 The plains of Latium run with blood around.
528 So many valiant heroes bite the ground;
529 Dejected grief in ev'ry face appears;
530 A town in mourning, and a land in tears;
531 While he, th' undoubted author of our harms,
532 The man who menaces the gods with arms,
533 Yet, after all his boasts, forsook the fight,
534 And sought his safety in ignoble flight.
535 Now, best of kings, since you propose to send
536 Such bounteous presents to your Trojan friend;
537 Add yet a greater at our joint request,
538 One which he values more than all the rest:
539 Give him the fair Lavinia for his bride;
540 With that alliance let the league be tied,
541 And for the bleeding land a lasting peace provide.
542 Let insolence no longer awe the throne;
543 But, with a father's right, bestow your own.
544 For this maligner of the general good,
545 If still we fear his force, he must be woo'd;
546 His haughty godhead we with pray'rs implore,
547 Your scepter to release, and our just rights restore.
548 O cursed cause of all our ills, must we
549 Wage wars unjust, and fall in fight, for thee!
550 What right hast thou to rule the Latian state,
551 And send us out to meet our certain fate?
552 'T is a destructive war: from Turnus' hand
553 Our peace and public safety we demand.
554 Let the fair bride to the brave chief remain;
555 If not, the peace, without the pledge, is vain.
556 Turnus, I know you think me not your friend,
557 Nor will I much with your belief contend:
558 I beg your greatness not to give the law
559 In others' realms, but, beaten, to withdraw.
560 Pity your own, or pity our estate;
561 Nor twist our fortunes with your sinking fate.
562 Your interest is, the war should never cease;
563 But we have felt enough to wish the peace:
564 A land exhausted to the last remains,
565 Depopulated towns, and driven plains.
566 Yet, if desire of fame, and thirst of pow'r,
567 A beauteous princess, with a crown in dow'r,
568 So fire your mind, in arms assert your right,
569 And meet your foe, who dares you to the fight.
570 Mankind, it seems, is made for you alone;
571 We, but the slaves who mount you to the throne:
572 A base ignoble crowd, without a name,
573 Unwept, unworthy, of the fun'ral flame,
574 By duty bound to forfeit each his life,
575 That Turnus may possess a royal wife.
576 Permit not, mighty man, so mean a crew
577 Should share such triumphs, and detain from you
578 The post of honor, your undoubted due.
579 Rather alone your matchless force employ,
580 To merit what alone you must enjoy."

581 These words, so full of malice mix'd with art,
582 Inflam'd with rage the youthful hero's heart.
583 Then, groaning from the bottom of his breast,
584 He heav'd for wind, and thus his wrath express'd:
585 "You, Drances, never want a stream of words,
586 Then, when the public need requires our swords.
587 First in the council hall to steer the state,
588 And ever foremost in a tongue-debate,
589 While our strong walls secure us from the foe,
590 Ere yet with blood our ditches overflow:
591 But let the potent orator declaim,
592 And with the brand of coward blot my name;
593 Free leave is giv'n him, when his fatal hand
594 Has cover'd with more corps the sanguine strand,
595 And high as mine his tow'ring trophies stand.
596 If any doubt remains, who dares the most,
597 Let us decide it at the Trojan's cost,
598 And issue both abreast, where honor calls-
599 Foes are not far to seek without the walls-
600 Unless his noisy tongue can only fight,
601 And feet were giv'n him but to speed his flight.
602 I beaten from the field? I forc'd away?
603 Who, but so known a dastard, dares to say?
604 Had he but ev'n beheld the fight, his eyes
605 Had witness'd for me what his tongue denies:
606 What heaps of Trojans by this hand were slain,
607 And how the bloody Tiber swell'd the main.
608 All saw, but he, th' Arcadian troops retire
609 In scatter'd squadrons, and their prince expire.
610 The giant brothers, in their camp, have found,
611 I was not forc'd with ease to quit my ground.
612 Not such the Trojans tried me, when, inclos'd,
613 I singly their united arms oppos'd:
614 First forc'd an entrance thro' their thick array;
615 Then, glutted with their slaughter, freed my way.
616 'T is a destructive war? So let it be,
617 But to the Phrygian pirate, and to thee!
618 Meantime proceed to fill the people's ears
619 With false reports, their minds with panic fears:
620 Extol the strength of a twice-conquer'd race;
621 Our foes encourage, and our friends debase.
622 Believe thy fables, and the Trojan town
623 Triumphant stands; the Grecians are o'erthrown;
624 Suppliant at Hector's feet Achilles lies,
625 And Diomede from fierce Aeneas flies.
626 Say rapid Aufidus with awful dread
627 Runs backward from the sea, and hides his head,
628 When the great Trojan on his bank appears;
629 For that's as true as thy dissembled fears
630 Of my revenge. Dismiss that vanity:
631 Thou, Drances, art below a death from me.
632 Let that vile soul in that vile body rest;
633 The lodging is well worthy of the guest.

634 "Now, royal father, to the present state
635 Of our affairs, and of this high debate:
636 If in your arms thus early you diffide,
637 And think your fortune is already tried;
638 If one defeat has brought us down so low,
639 As never more in fields to meet the foe;
640 Then I conclude for peace: 't is time to treat,
641 And lie like vassals at the victor's feet.
642 But, O! if any ancient blood remains,
643 One drop of all our fathers', in our veins,
644 That man would I prefer before the rest,
645 Who dar'd his death with an undaunted breast;
646 Who comely fell, by no dishonest wound,
647 To shun that sight, and, dying, gnaw'd the ground.
648 But, if we still have fresh recruits in store,
649 If our confederates can afford us more;
650 If the contended field we bravely fought,
651 And not a bloodless victory was bought;
652 Their losses equal'd ours; and, for their slain,
653 With equal fires they fill'd the shining plain;
654 Why thus, unforc'd, should we so tamely yield,
655 And, ere the trumpet sounds, resign the field?
656 Good unexpected, evils unforeseen,
657 Appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene:
658 Some, rais'd aloft, come tumbling down amain;
659 Then fall so hard, they bound and rise again.
660 If Diomede refuse his aid to lend,
661 The great Messapus yet remains our friend:
662 Tolumnius, who foretells events, is ours;
663 Th' Italian chiefs and princes join their pow'rs:
664 Nor least in number, nor in name the last,
665 Your own brave subjects have your cause embrac'd
666 Above the rest, the Volscian Amazon
667 Contains an army in herself alone,
668 And heads a squadron, terrible to sight,
669 With glitt'ring shields, in brazen armor bright.
670 Yet, if the foe a single fight demand,
671 And I alone the public peace withstand;
672 If you consent, he shall not be refus'd,
673 Nor find a hand to victory unus'd.
674 This new Achilles, let him take the field,
675 With fated armor, and Vulcanian shield!
676 For you, my royal father, and my fame,
677 I, Turnus, not the least of all my name,
678 Devote my soul. He calls me hand to hand,
679 And I alone will answer his demand.
680 Drances shall rest secure, and neither share
681 The danger, nor divide the prize of war."

682 While they debate, nor these nor those will yield,
683 Aeneas draws his forces to the field,
684 And moves his camp. The scouts with flying speed
685 Return, and thro' the frighted city spread
686 Th' unpleasing news, the Trojans are descried,
687 In battle marching by the river side,
688 And bending to the town. They take th' alarm:
689 Some tremble, some are bold; all in confusion arm.
690 Th' impetuous youth press forward to the field;
691 They clash the sword, and clatter on the shield:
692 The fearful matrons raise a screaming cry;
693 Old feeble men with fainter groans reply;
694 A jarring sound results, and mingles in the sky,
695 Like that of swans remurm'ring to the floods,
696 Or birds of diff'ring kinds in hollow woods.

697 Turnus th' occasion takes, and cries aloud:
698 "Talk on, ye quaint haranguers of the crowd:
699 Declaim in praise of peace, when danger calls,
700 And the fierce foes in arms approach the walls."
701 He said, and, turning short, with speedy pace,
702 Casts back a scornful glance, and quits the place:
703 "Thou, Volusus, the Volscian troops command
704 To mount; and lead thyself our Ardean band.
705 Messapus and Catillus, post your force
706 Along the fields, to charge the Trojan horse.
707 Some guard the passes, others man the wall;
708 Drawn up in arms, the rest attend my call."

709 They swarm from ev'ry quarter of the town,
710 And with disorder'd haste the rampires crown.
711 Good old Latinus, when he saw, too late,
712 The gath'ring storm just breaking on the state,
713 Dismiss'd the council till a fitter time,
714 And own'd his easy temper as his crime,
715 Who, forc'd against his reason, had complied
716 To break the treaty for the promis'd bride.

717 Some help to sink new trenches; others aid
718 To ram the stones, or raise the palisade.
719 Hoarse trumpets sound th' alarm; around the walls
720 Runs a distracted crew, whom their last labor calls.
721 A sad procession in the streets is seen,
722 Of matrons, that attend the mother queen:
723 High in her chair she sits, and, at her side,
724 With downcast eyes, appears the fatal bride.
725 They mount the cliff, where Pallas' temple stands;
726 Pray'rs in their mouths, and presents in their hands,
727 With censers first they fume the sacred shrine,
728 Then in this common supplication join:
729 "O patroness of arms, unspotted maid,
730 Propitious hear, and lend thy Latins aid!
731 Break short the pirate's lance; pronounce his fate,
732 And lay the Phrygian low before the gate."

733 Now Turnus arms for fight. His back and breast
734 Well-temper'd steel and scaly brass invest:
735 The cuishes which his brawny thighs infold
736 Are mingled metal damask'd o'er with gold.
737 His faithful fauchion sits upon his side;
738 Nor casque, nor crest, his manly features hide:
739 But, bare to view, amid surrounding friends,
740 With godlike grace, he from the tow'r descends.
741 Exulting in his strength, he seems to dare
742 His absent rival, and to promise war.
743 Freed from his keepers, thus, with broken reins,
744 The wanton courser prances o'er the plains,
745 Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds,
746 And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds.
747 Or seeks his wat'ring in the well-known flood,
748 To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood:
749 He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain,
750 And o'er his shoulder flows his waving mane:
751 He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high;
752 Before his ample chest the frothy waters fly.

753 Soon as the prince appears without the gate,
754 The Volscians, with their virgin leader, wait
755 His last commands. Then, with a graceful mien,
756 Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen:
757 Her squadron imitates, and each descends;
758 Whose common suit Camilla thus commends:
759 "If sense of honor, if a soul secure
760 Of inborn worth, that can all tests endure,
761 Can promise aught, or on itself rely
762 Greatly to dare, to conquer or to die;
763 Then, I alone, sustain'd by these, will meet
764 The Tyrrhene troops, and promise their defeat.
765 Ours be the danger, ours the sole renown:
766 You, gen'ral, stay behind, and guard the town:"

767 Turnus a while stood mute, with glad surprise,
768 And on the fierce virago fix'd his eyes;
769 Then thus return'd: "O grace of Italy,
770 With what becoming thanks can I reply?
771 Not only words lie lab'ring in my breast,
772 But thought itself is by thy praise oppress'd.
773 Yet rob me not of all; but let me join
774 My toils, my hazard, and my fame, with thine.
775 The Trojan, not in stratagem unskill'd,
776 Sends his light horse before to scour the field:
777 Himself, thro' steep ascents and thorny brakes,
778 A larger compass to the city takes.
779 This news my scouts confirm, and I prepare
780 To foil his cunning, and his force to dare;
781 With chosen foot his passage to forelay,
782 And place an ambush in the winding way.
783 Thou, with thy Volscians, face the Tuscan horse;
784 The brave Messapus shall thy troops inforce
785 With those of Tibur, and the Latian band,
786 Subjected all to thy supreme command."
787 This said, he warns Messapus to the war,
788 Then ev'ry chief exhorts with equal care.
789 All thus encourag'd, his own troops he joins,
790 And hastes to prosecute his deep designs.

791 Inclos'd with hills, a winding valley lies,
792 By nature form'd for fraud, and fitted for surprise.
793 A narrow track, by human steps untrode,
794 Leads, thro' perplexing thorns, to this obscure abode.
795 High o'er the vale a steepy mountain stands,
796 Whence the surveying sight the nether ground commands.
797 The top is level, an offensive seat
798 Of war; and from the war a safe retreat:
799 For, on the right and left, is room to press
800 The foes at hand, or from afar distress;
801 To drive 'em headlong downward, and to pour
802 On their descending backs a stony show'r.
803 Thither young Turnus took the well-known way,
804 Possess'd the pass, and in blind ambush lay.

805 Meantime Latonian Phoebe, from the skies,
806 Beheld th' approaching war with hateful eyes,
807 And call'd the light-foot Opis to her aid,
808 Her most belov'd and ever-trusty maid;
809 Then with a sigh began: "Camilla goes
810 To meet her death amidst her fatal foes:
811 The nymphs I lov'd of all my mortal train,
812 Invested with Diana's arms, in vain.
813 Nor is my kindness for the virgin new:
814 'T was born with her; and with her years it grew.
815 Her father Metabus, when forc'd away
816 From old Privernum, for tyrannic sway,
817 Snatch'd up, and sav'd from his prevailing foes,
818 This tender babe, companion of his woes.
819 Casmilla was her mother; but he drown'd
820 One hissing letter in a softer sound,
821 And call'd Camilla. Thro' the woods he flies;
822 Wrapp'd in his robe the royal infant lies.
823 His foes in sight, he mends his weary pace;
824 With shout and clamors they pursue the chase.
825 The banks of Amasene at length he gains:

826 The raging flood his farther flight restrains,
827 Rais'd o'er the borders with unusual rains.
828 Prepar'd to plunge into the stream, he fears,
829 Not for himself, but for the charge he bears.
830 Anxious, he stops a while, and thinks in haste;
831 Then, desp'rate in distress, resolves at last.
832 A knotty lance of well-boil'd oak he bore;
833 The middle part with cork he cover'd o'er:
834 He clos'd the child within the hollow space;
835 With twigs of bending osier bound the case;
836 Then pois'd the spear, heavy with human weight,
837 And thus invok'd my favor for the freight:
838 'Accept, great goddess of the woods,' he said,
839 'Sent by her sire, this dedicated maid!
840 Thro' air she flies a suppliant to thy shrine;
841 And the first weapons that she knows, are thine.'
842 He said; and with full force the spear he threw:
843 Above the sounding waves Camilla flew.
844 Then, press'd by foes, he stemm'd the stormy tide,
845 And gain'd, by stress of arms, the farther side.
846 His fasten'd spear he pull'd from out the ground,
847 And, victor of his vows, his infant nymph unbound;
848 Nor, after that, in towns which walls inclose,
849 Would trust his hunted life amidst his foes;
850 But, rough, in open air he chose to lie;
851 Earth was his couch, his cov'ring was the sky.
852 On hills unshorn, or in a desart den,
853 He shunn'd the dire society of men.
854 A shepherd's solitary life he led;
855 His daughter with the milk of mares he fed.
856 The dugs of bears, and ev'ry salvage beast,
857 He drew, and thro' her lips the liquor press'd.
858 The little Amazon could scarcely go:
859 He loads her with a quiver and a bow;
860 And, that she might her stagg'ring steps command,
861 He with a slender jav'lin fills her hand.
862 Her flowing hair no golden fillet bound;
863 Nor swept her trailing robe the dusty ground.
864 Instead of these, a tiger's hide o'erspread
865 Her back and shoulders, fasten'd to her head.
866 The flying dart she first attempts to fling,
867 And round her tender temples toss'd the sling;
868 Then, as her strength with years increas'd, began
869 To pierce aloft in air the soaring swan,
870 And from the clouds to fetch the heron and the crane.
871 The Tuscan matrons with each other vied,
872 To bless their rival sons with such a bride;
873 But she disdains their love, to share with me
874 The sylvan shades and vow'd virginity.
875 And, O! I wish, contented with my cares
876 Of salvage spoils, she had not sought the wars!
877 Then had she been of my celestial train,
878 And shunn'd the fate that dooms her to be slain.
879 But since, opposing Heav'n's decree, she goes
880 To find her death among forbidden foes,
881 Haste with these arms, and take thy steepy flight.
882 Where, with the gods, averse, the Latins fight.
883 This bow to thee, this quiver I bequeath,
884 This chosen arrow, to revenge her death:
885 By whate'er hand Camilla shall be slain,
886 Or of the Trojan or Italian train,
887 Let him not pass unpunish'd from the plain.
888 Then, in a hollow cloud, myself will aid
889 To bear the breathless body of my maid:
890 Unspoil'd shall be her arms, and unprofan'd
891 Her holy limbs with any human hand,
892 And in a marble tomb laid in her native land."

893 She said. The faithful nymph descends from high
894 With rapid flight, and cuts the sounding sky:
895 Black clouds and stormy winds around her body fly.

896 By this, the Trojan and the Tuscan horse,
897 Drawn up in squadrons, with united force,
898 Approach the walls: the sprightly coursers bound,
899 Press forward on their bits, and shift their ground.
900 Shields, arms, and spears flash horribly from far;
901 And the fields glitter with a waving war.
902 Oppos'd to these, come on with furious force
903 Messapus, Coras, and the Latian horse;
904 These in the body plac'd, on either hand
905 Sustain'd and clos'd by fair Camilla's band.
906 Advancing in a line, they couch their spears;
907 And less and less the middle space appears.
908 Thick smoke obscures the field; and scarce are seen
909 The neighing coursers, and the shouting men.
910 In distance of their darts they stop their course;
911 Then man to man they rush, and horse to horse.
912 The face of heav'n their flying jav'lins hide,
913 And deaths unseen are dealt on either side.
914 Tyrrhenus, and Aconteus, void of fear,
915 By mettled coursers borne in full career,
916 Meet first oppos'd; and, with a mighty shock,
917 Their horses' heads against each other knock.
918 Far from his steed is fierce Aconteus cast,
919 As with an engine's force, or lightning's blast:
920 He rolls along in blood, and breathes his last.
921 The Latin squadrons take a sudden fright,
922 And sling their shields behind, to save their backs in flight
923 Spurring at speed to their own walls they drew;
924 Close in the rear the Tuscan troops pursue,
925 And urge their flight: Asylas leads the chase;
926 Till, seiz'd, with shame, they wheel about and face,
927 Receive their foes, and raise a threat'ning cry.
928 The Tuscans take their turn to fear and fly.
929 So swelling surges, with a thund'ring roar,
930 Driv'n on each other's backs, insult the shore,
931 Bound o'er the rocks, incroach upon the land,
932 And far upon the beach eject the sand;
933 Then backward, with a swing, they take their way,
934 Repuls'd from upper ground, and seek their mother sea;
935 With equal hurry quit th' invaded shore,
936 And swallow back the sand and stones they spew'd before.

937 Twice were the Tuscans masters of the field,
938 Twice by the Latins, in their turn, repell'd.
939 Asham'd at length, to the third charge they ran;
940 Both hosts resolv'd, and mingled man to man.
941 Now dying groans are heard; the fields are strow'd
942 With falling bodies, and are drunk with blood.
943 Arms, horses, men, on heaps together lie:
944 Confus'd the fight, and more confus'd the cry.
945 Orsilochus, who durst not press too near
946 Strong Remulus, at distance drove his spear,
947 And stuck the steel beneath his horse's ear.
948 The fiery steed, impatient of the wound,
949 Curvets, and, springing upward with a bound,
950 His helpless lord cast backward on the ground.
951 Catillus pierc'd Iolas first; then drew
952 His reeking lance, and at Herminius threw,
953 The mighty champion of the Tuscan crew.
954 His neck and throat unarm'd, his head was bare,
955 But shaded with a length of yellow hair:
956 Secure, he fought, expos'd on ev'ry part,
957 A spacious mark for swords, and for the flying dart.
958 Across the shoulders came the feather'd wound;
959 Transfix'd he fell, and doubled to the ground.
960 The sands with streaming blood are sanguine dyed,
961 And death with honor sought on either side.

962 Resistless thro' the war Camilla rode,
963 In danger unappall'd, and pleas'd with blood.
964 One side was bare for her exerted breast;
965 One shoulder with her painted quiver press'd.
966 Now from afar her fatal jav'lins play;
967 Now with her ax's edge she hews her way:
968 Diana's arms upon her shoulder sound;
969 And when, too closely press'd, she quits the ground,
970 From her bent bow she sends a backward wound.
971 Her maids, in martial pomp, on either side,
972 Larina, Tulla, fierce Tarpeia, ride:
973 Italians all; in peace, their queen's delight;
974 In war, the bold companions of the fight.
975 So march'd the Tracian Amazons of old,
976 When Thermodon with bloody billows roll'd:
977 Such troops as these in shining arms were seen,
978 When Theseus met in fight their maiden queen:
979 Such to the field Penthisilea led,
980 From the fierce virgin when the Grecians fled;
981 With such, return'd triumphant from the war,
982 Her maids with cries attend the lofty car;
983 They clash with manly force their moony shields;
984 With female shouts resound the Phrygian fields.

985 Who foremost, and who last, heroic maid,
986 On the cold earth were by thy courage laid?
987 Thy spear, of mountain ash, Eumenius first,
988 With fury driv'n, from side to side transpierc'd:
989 A purple stream came spouting from the wound;
990 Bath'd in his blood he lies, and bites the ground.
991 Liris and Pegasus at once she slew:
992 The former, as the slacken'd reins he drew
993 Of his faint steed; the latter, as he stretch'd
994 His arm to prop his friend, the jav'lin reach'd.
995 By the same weapon, sent from the same hand,
996 Both fall together, and both spurn the sand.
997 Amastrus next is added to the slain:
998 The rest in rout she follows o'er the plain:
999 Tereus, Harpalycus, Demophoon,
1000 And Chromis, at full speed her fury shun.
1001 Of all her deadly darts, not one she lost;
1002 Each was attended with a Trojan ghost.
1003 Young Ornithus bestrode a hunter steed,
1004 Swift for the chase, and of Apulian breed.
1005 Him from afar she spied, in arms unknown:
1006 O'er his broad back an ox's hide was thrown;
1007 His helm a wolf, whose gaping jaws were spread
1008 A cov'ring for his cheeks, and grinn'd around his head,
1009 He clench'd within his hand an iron prong,
1010 And tower'd above the rest, conspicuous in the throng.
1011 Him soon she singled from the flying train,
1012 And slew with ease; then thus insults the slain:
1013 "Vain hunter, didst thou think thro' woods to chase
1014 The savage herd, a vile and trembling race?
1015 Here cease thy vaunts, and own my victory:
1016 A woman warrior was too strong for thee.
1017 Yet, if the ghosts demand the conqu'ror's name,
1018 Confessing great Camilla, save thy shame."
1019 Then Butes and Orsilochus she slew,
1020 The bulkiest bodies of the Trojan crew;
1021 But Butes breast to breast: the spear descends
1022 Above the gorget, where his helmet ends,
1023 And o'er the shield which his left side defends.
1024 Orsilochus and she their courses ply:
1025 He seems to follow, and she seems to fly;
1026 But in a narrower ring she makes the race;
1027 And then he flies, and she pursues the chase.
1028 Gath'ring at length on her deluded foe,
1029 She swings her ax, and rises to the blow
1030 Full on the helm behind, with such a sway
1031 The weapon falls, the riven steel gives way:
1032 He groans, he roars, he sues in vain for grace;
1033 Brains, mingled with his blood, besmear his face.

1034 Astonish'd Aunus just arrives by chance,
1035 To see his fall; nor farther dares advance;
1036 But, fixing on the horrid maid his eye,
1037 He stares, and shakes, and finds it vain to fly;
1038 Yet, like a true Ligurian, born to cheat,
1039 (At least while fortune favor'd his deceit,)
1040 Cries out aloud: "What courage have you shown,
1041 Who trust your courser's strength, and not your own?
1042 Forego the vantage of your horse, alight,
1043 And then on equal terms begin the fight:
1044 It shall be seen, weak woman, what you can,
1045 When, foot to foot, you combat with a man,"
1046 He said. She glows with anger and disdain,
1047 Dismounts with speed to dare him on the plain,
1048 And leaves her horse at large among her train;
1049 With her drawn sword defies him to the field,
1050 And, marching, lifts aloft her maiden shield.
1051 The youth, who thought his cunning did succeed,
1052 Reins round his horse, and urges all his speed;
1053 Adds the remembrance of the spur, and hides
1054 The goring rowels in his bleeding sides.
1055 "Vain fool, and coward!" cries the lofty maid,
1056 "Caught in the train which thou thyself hast laid!
1057 On others practice thy Ligurian arts;
1058 Thin stratagems and tricks of little hearts
1059 Are lost on me: nor shalt thou safe retire,
1060 With vaunting lies, to thy fallacious sire."
1061 At this, so fast her flying feet she sped,
1062 That soon she strain'd beyond his horse's head:
1063 Then turning short, at once she seiz'd the rein,
1064 And laid the boaster grov'ling on the plain.
1065 Not with more ease the falcon, from above,
1066 Trusses in middle air the trembling dove,
1067 Then plumes the prey, in her strong pounces bound:
1068 The feathers, foul with blood, come tumbling to the ground.

1069 Now mighty Jove, from his superior height,
1070 With his broad eye surveys th' unequal fight.
1071 He fires the breast of Tarchon with disdain,
1072 And sends him to redeem th' abandon'd plain.
1073 Betwixt the broken ranks the Tuscan rides,
1074 And these encourages, and those he chides;
1075 Recalls each leader, by his name, from flight;
1076 Renews their ardor, and restores the fight.
1077 "What panic fear has seiz'd your souls? O shame,
1078 O brand perpetual of th' Etrurian name!
1079 Cowards incurable, a woman's hand
1080 Drives, breaks, and scatters your ignoble band!
1081 Now cast away the sword, and quit the shield!
1082 What use of weapons which you dare not wield?
1083 Not thus you fly your female foes by night,
1084 Nor shun the feast, when the full bowls invite;
1085 When to fat off'rings the glad augur calls,
1086 And the shrill hornpipe sounds to bacchanals.
1087 These are your studied cares, your lewd delight:
1088 Swift to debauch, but slow to manly fight."
1089 Thus having said, he spurs amid the foes,
1090 Not managing the life he meant to lose.
1091 The first he found he seiz'd with headlong haste,
1092 In his strong gripe, and clasp'd around the waist;
1093 'T was Venulus, whom from his horse he tore,
1094 And, laid athwart his own, in triumph bore.
1095 Loud shouts ensue; the Latins turn their eyes,
1096 And view th' unusual sight with vast surprise.
1097 The fiery Tarchon, flying o'er the plains,
1098 Press'd in his arms the pond'rous prey sustains;
1099 Then, with his shorten'd spear, explores around
1100 His jointed arms, to fix a deadly wound.
1101 Nor less the captive struggles for his life:
1102 He writhes his body to prolong the strife,
1103 And, fencing for his naked throat, exerts
1104 His utmost vigor, and the point averts.
1105 So stoops the yellow eagle from on high,
1106 And bears a speckled serpent thro' the sky,
1107 Fast'ning his crooked talons on the prey:
1108 The pris'ner hisses thro' the liquid way;
1109 Resists the royal hawk; and, tho' oppress'd,
1110 She fights in volumes, and erects her crest:
1111 Turn'd to her foe, she stiffens ev'ry scale,
1112 And shoots her forky tongue, and whisks her threat'ning tail.
1113 Against the victor, all defense is weak:
1114 Th' imperial bird still plies her with his beak;
1115 He tears her bowels, and her breast he gores;
1116 Then claps his pinions, and securely soars.
1117 Thus, thro' the midst of circling enemies,
1118 Strong Tarchon snatch'd and bore away his prize.
1119 The Tyrrhene troops, that shrunk before, now press
1120 The Latins, and presume the like success.

1121 Then Aruns, doom'd to death, his arts assay'd,
1122 To murther, unespied, the Volscian maid:
1123 This way and that his winding course he bends,
1124 And, whereso'er she turns, her steps attends.
1125 When she retires victorious from the chase,
1126 He wheels about with care, and shifts his place;
1127 When, rushing on, she seeks her foes flight,
1128 He keeps aloof, but keeps her still in sight:
1129 He threats, and trembles, trying ev'ry way,
1130 Unseen to kill, and safely to betray.
1131 Chloreus, the priest of Cybele, from far,
1132 Glitt'ring in Phrygian arms amidst the war,
1133 Was by the virgin view'd. The steed he press'd
1134 Was proud with trappings, and his brawny chest
1135 With scales of gilded brass was cover'd o'er;
1136 A robe of Tyrian dye the rider wore.
1137 With deadly wounds he gall'd the distant foe;
1138 Gnossian his shafts, and Lycian was his bow:
1139 A golden helm his front and head surrounds
1140 A gilded quiver from his shoulder sounds.
1141 Gold, weav'd with linen, on his thighs he wore,
1142 With flowers of needlework distinguish'd o'er,
1143 With golden buckles bound, and gather'd up before.
1144 Him the fierce maid beheld with ardent eyes,
1145 Fond and ambitious of so rich a prize,
1146 Or that the temple might his trophies hold,
1147 Or else to shine herself in Trojan gold.
1148 Blind in her haste, she chases him alone.
1149 And seeks his life, regardless of her own.

1150 This lucky moment the sly traitor chose:
1151 Then, starting from his ambush, up he rose,
1152 And threw, but first to Heav'n address'd his vows:
1153 "O patron of Socrates' high abodes,
1154 Phoebus, the ruling pow'r among the gods,
1155 Whom first we serve, whole woods of unctuous pine
1156 Are fell'd for thee, and to thy glory shine;
1157 By thee protected with our naked soles,
1158 Thro' flames unsing'd we march, and tread the kindled coals
1159 Give me, propitious pow'r, to wash away
1160 The stains of this dishonorable day:
1161 Nor spoils, nor triumph, from the fact I claim,
1162 But with my future actions trust my fame.
1163 Let me, by stealth, this female plague o'ercome,
1164 And from the field return inglorious home."
1165 Apollo heard, and, granting half his pray'r,
1166 Shuffled in winds the rest, and toss'd in empty air.
1167 He gives the death desir'd; his safe return
1168 By southern tempests to the seas is borne.

1169 Now, when the jav'lin whizz'd along the skies,
1170 Both armies on Camilla turn'd their eyes,
1171 Directed by the sound. Of either host,
1172 Th' unhappy virgin, tho' concern'd the most,
1173 Was only deaf; so greedy was she bent
1174 On golden spoils, and on her prey intent;
1175 Till in her pap the winged weapon stood
1176 Infix'd, and deeply drunk the purple blood.
1177 Her sad attendants hasten to sustain
1178 Their dying lady, drooping on the plain.
1179 Far from their sight the trembling Aruns flies,
1180 With beating heart, and fear confus'd with joys;
1181 Nor dares he farther to pursue his blow,
1182 Or ev'n to bear the sight of his expiring foe.
1183 As, when the wolf has torn a bullock's hide
1184 At unawares, or ranch'd a shepherd's side,
1185 Conscious of his audacious deed, he flies,
1186 And claps his quiv'ring tail between his thighs:
1187 So, speeding once, the wretch no more attends,
1188 But, spurring forward, herds among his friends.

1189 She wrench'd the jav'lin with her dying hands,
1190 But wedg'd within her breast the weapon stands;
1191 The wood she draws, the steely point remains;
1192 She staggers in her seat with agonizing pains:
1193 (A gath'ring mist o'erclouds her cheerful eyes,
1194 And from her cheeks the rosy color flies:)
1195 Then turns to her, whom of her female train
1196 She trusted most, and thus she speaks with pain:
1197 "Acca, 't is past! he swims before my sight,
1198 Inexorable Death; and claims his right.
1199 Bear my last words to Turnus; fly with speed,
1200 And bid him timely to my charge succeed,
1201 Repel the Trojans, and the town relieve:
1202 Farewell! and in this kiss my parting breath receive."
1203 She said, and, sliding, sunk upon the plain:
1204 Dying, her open'd hand forsakes the rein;
1205 Short, and more short, she pants; by slow degrees
1206 Her mind the passage from her body frees.
1207 She drops her sword; she nods her plumy crest,
1208 Her drooping head declining on her breast:
1209 In the last sigh her struggling soul expires,
1210 And, murm'ring with disdain, to Stygian sounds retires.

1211 A shout, that struck the golden stars, ensued;
1212 Despair and rage the languish'd fight renew'd.
1213 The Trojan troops and Tuscans, in a line,
1214 Advance to charge; the mix'd Arcadians join.

1215 But Cynthia's maid, high seated, from afar
1216 Surveys the field, and fortune of the war,
1217 Unmov'd a while, till, prostrate on the plain,
1218 Welt'ring in blood, she sees Camilla slain,
1219 And, round her corpse, of friends and foes a fighting train.
1220 Then, from the bottom of her breast, she drew
1221 A mournful sigh, and these sad words ensue:
1222 "Too dear a fine, ah much lamented maid,
1223 For warring with the Trojans, thou hast paid!
1224 Nor aught avail'd, in this unhappy strife,
1225 Diana's sacred arms, to save thy life.
1226 Yet unreveng'd thy goddess will not leave
1227 Her vot'ry's death, nor; with vain sorrow grieve.
1228 Branded the wretch, and be his name abhorr'd;
1229 But after ages shall thy praise record.
1230 Th' inglorious coward soon shall press the plain:
1231 Thus vows thy queen, and thus the Fates ordain."

1232 High o'er the field there stood a hilly mound,
1233 Sacred the place, and spread with oaks around,
1234 Where, in a marble tomb, Dercennus lay,
1235 A king that once in Latium bore the sway.
1236 The beauteous Opis thither bent her flight,
1237 To mark the traitor Aruns from the height.
1238 Him in refulgent arms she soon espied,
1239 Swoln with success; and loudly thus she cried:
1240 "Thy backward steps, vain boaster, are too late;
1241 Turn like a man, at length, and meet thy fate.
1242 Charg'd with my message, to Camilla go,
1243 And say I sent thee to the shades below,
1244 An honor undeserv'd from Cynthia's bow."

1245 She said, and from her quiver chose with speed
1246 The winged shaft, predestin'd for the deed;
1247 Then to the stubborn yew her strength applied,
1248 Till the far distant horns approach'd on either side.
1249 The bowstring touch'd her breast, so strong she drew;
1250 Whizzing in air the fatal arrow flew.
1251 At once the twanging bow and sounding dart
1252 The traitor heard, and felt the point within his heart.
1253 Him, beating with his heels in pangs of death,
1254 His flying friends to foreign fields bequeath.
1255 The conqu'ring damsel, with expanded wings,
1256 The welcome message to her mistress brings.

1257 Their leader lost, the Volscians quit the field,
1258 And, unsustain'd, the chiefs of Turnus yield.
1259 The frighted soldiers, when their captains fly,
1260 More on their speed than on their strength rely.
1261 Confus'd in flight, they bear each other down,
1262 And spur their horses headlong to the town.
1263 Driv'n by their foes, and to their fears resign'd,
1264 Not once they turn, but take their wounds behind.
1265 These drop the shield, and those the lance forego,
1266 Or on their shoulders bear the slacken'd bow.
1267 The hoofs of horses, with a rattling sound,
1268 Beat short and thick, and shake the rotten ground.
1269 Black clouds of dust come rolling in the sky,
1270 And o'er the darken'd walls and rampires fly.
1271 The trembling matrons, from their lofty stands,
1272 Rend heav'n with female shrieks, and wring their hands.
1273 All pressing on, pursuers and pursued,
1274 Are crush'd in crowds, a mingled multitude.
1275 Some happy few escape: the throng too late
1276 Rush on for entrance, till they choke the gate.
1277 Ev'n in the sight of home, the wretched sire
1278 Looks on, and sees his helpless son expire.
1279 Then, in a fright, the folding gates they close,
1280 But leave their friends excluded with their foes.
1281 The vanquish'd cry; the victors loudly shout;
1282 'T is terror all within, and slaughter all without.
1283 Blind in their fear, they bounce against the wall,
1284 Or, to the moats pursued, precipitate their fall.

1285 The Latian virgins, valiant with despair,
1286 Arm'd on the tow'rs, the common danger share:
1287 So much of zeal their country's cause inspir'd;
1288 So much Camilla's great example fir'd.
1289 Poles, sharpen'd in the flames, from high they throw,
1290 With imitated darts, to gall the foe.
1291 Their lives for godlike freedom they bequeath,
1292 And crowd each other to be first in death.
1293 Meantime to Turnus, ambush'd in the shade,
1294 With heavy tidings came th' unhappy maid:
1295 "The Volscians overthrown, Camilla kill'd;
1296 The foes, entirely masters of the field,
1297 Like a resistless flood, come rolling on:
1298 The cry goes off the plain, and thickens to the town."

1299 Inflam'd with rage, (for so the Furies fire
1300 The Daunian's breast, and so the Fates require,)
1301 He leaves the hilly pass, the woods in vain
1302 Possess'd, and downward issues on the plain.
1303 Scarce was he gone, when to the straits, now freed
1304 From secret foes, the Trojan troops succeed.
1305 Thro' the black forest and the ferny brake,
1306 Unknowingly secure, their way they take;
1307 From the rough mountains to the plain descend,
1308 And there, in order drawn, their line extend.
1309 Both armies now in open fields are seen;
1310 Nor far the distance of the space between.
1311 Both to the city bend. Aeneas sees,
1312 Thro' smoking fields, his hast'ning enemies;
1313 And Turnus views the Trojans in array,
1314 And hears th' approaching horses proudly neigh.
1315 Soon had their hosts in bloody battle join'd;
1316 But westward to the sea the sun declin'd.
1317 Intrench'd before the town both armies lie,
1318 While Night with sable wings involves the sky.