Book 12

1 When Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
2 Their armies broken, and their courage quell'd,
3 Himself become the mark of public spite,
4 His honor question'd for the promis'd fight;
5 The more he was with vulgar hate oppress'd,
6 The more his fury boil'd within his breast:
7 He rous'd his vigor for the last debate,
8 And rais'd his haughty soul to meet his fate.

9 As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase,
10 He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace;
11 But, if the pointed jav'lin pierce his side,
12 The lordly beast returns with double pride:
13 He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain;
14 His sides he lashes, and erects his mane:
15 So Turnus fares; his eyeballs flash with fire,
16 Thro' his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire.

17 Trembling with rage, around the court he ran,
18 At length approach'd the king, and thus began:
19 "No more excuses or delays: I stand
20 In arms prepar'd to combat, hand to hand,
21 This base deserter of his native land.
22 The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take
23 The same conditions which himself did make.
24 Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare,
25 And to my single virtue trust the war.
26 The Latians unconcern'd shall see the fight;
27 This arm unaided shall assert your right:
28 Then, if my prostrate body press the plain,
29 To him the crown and beauteous bride remain."

30 To whom the king sedately thus replied:
31 "Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried,
32 The more becomes it us, with due respect,
33 To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect.
34 You want not wealth, or a successive throne,
35 Or cities which your arms have made your own:
36 My towns and treasures are at your command,
37 And stor'd with blooming beauties is my land;
38 Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees,
39 Unmarried, fair, of noble families.
40 Now let me speak, and you with patience hear,
41 Things which perhaps may grate a lover's ear,
42 But sound advice, proceeding from a heart
43 Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.
44 The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown,
45 No prince Italian born should heir my throne:
46 Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill'd,
47 And oft our priests, foreign son reveal'd.
48 Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood,
49 Brib'd by my kindness to my kindred blood,
50 Urg'd by my wife, who would not be denied,
51 I promis'd my Lavinia for your bride:
52 Her from her plighted lord by force I took;
53 All ties of treaties, and of honor, broke:
54 On your account I wag'd an impious war-
55 With what success, 't is needless to declare;
56 I and my subjects feel, and you have had your share.
57 Twice vanquish'd while in bloody fields we strive,
58 Scarce in our walls we keep our hopes alive:
59 The rolling flood runs warm with human gore;
60 The bones of Latians blanch the neighb'ring shore.
61 Why put I not an end to this debate,
62 Still unresolv'd, and still a slave to fate?
63 If Turnus' death a lasting peace can give,
64 Why should I not procure it whilst you live?
65 Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray,
66 What would my kinsmen the Rutulians say?
67 And, should you fall in fight, (which Heav'n defend!)
68 How curse the cause which hasten'd to his end
69 The daughter's lover and the father's friend?
70 Weigh in your mind the various chance of war;
71 Pity your parent's age, and ease his care."

72 Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain:
73 The proffer'd med'cine but provok'd the pain.
74 The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief,
75 With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief:
76 "The care, O best of fathers, which you take
77 For my concerns, at my desire forsake.
78 Permit me not to languish out my days,
79 But make the best exchange of life for praise.
80 This arm, this lance, can well dispute the prize;
81 And the blood follows, where the weapon flies.
82 His goddess mother is not near, to shroud
83 The flying coward with an empty cloud."

84 But now the queen, who fear'd for Turnus' life,
85 And loath'd the hard conditions of the strife,
86 Held him by force; and, dying in his death,
87 In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath:
88 "O Turnus, I adjure thee by these tears,
89 And whate'er price Amata's honor bears
90 Within thy breast, since thou art all my hope,
91 My sickly mind's repose, my sinking age's prop;
92 Since on the safety of thy life alone
93 Depends Latinus, and the Latian throne:
94 Refuse me not this one, this only pray'r,
95 To waive the combat, and pursue the war.
96 Whatever chance attends this fatal strife,
97 Think it includes, in thine, Amata's life.
98 I cannot live a slave, or see my throne
99 Usurp'd by strangers or a Trojan son."

100 At this, a flood of tears Lavinia shed;
101 A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread,
102 Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red.
103 The driving colors, never at a stay,
104 Run here and there, and flush, and fade away.
105 Delightful change! Thus Indian iv'ry shows,
106 Which with the bord'ring paint of purple glows;
107 Or lilies damask'd by the neighb'ring rose.

108 The lover gaz'd, and, burning with desire,
109 The more he look'd, the more he fed the fire:
110 Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spite,
111 Roll in his breast, and rouse him to the fight.
112 Then fixing on the queen his ardent eyes,
113 Firm to his first intent, he thus replies:
114 "O mother, do not by your tears prepare
115 Such boding omens, and prejudge the war.
116 Resolv'd on fight, I am no longer free
117 To shun my death, if Heav'n my death decree."
118 Then turning to the herald, thus pursues:
119 "Go, greet the Trojan with ungrateful news;
120 Denounce from me, that, when to-morrow's light
121 Shall gild the heav'ns, he need not urge the fight;
122 The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more
123 Shall dye, with mutual blood, the Latian shore:
124 Our single swords the quarrel shall decide,
125 And to the victor be the beauteous bride."

126 He said, and striding on, with speedy pace,
127 He sought his coursers of the Thracian race.
128 At his approach they toss their heads on high,
129 And, proudly neighing, promise victory.
130 The sires of these Orythia sent from far,
131 To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war.
132 The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so white,
133 Nor northern winds in fleetness match'd their flight.
134 Officious grooms stand ready by his side;
135 And some with combs their flowing manes divide,
136 And others stroke their chests and gently soothe their pride

137 He sheath'd his limbs in arms; a temper'd mass
138 Of golden metal those, and mountain brass.
139 Then to his head his glitt'ring helm he tied,
140 And girt his faithful fauchion to his side.
141 In his Aetnaean forge, the God of Fire
142 That fauchion labor'd for the hero's sire;
143 Immortal keenness on the blade bestow'd,
144 And plung'd it hissing in the Stygian flood.
145 Propp'd on a pillar, which the ceiling bore,
146 Was plac'd the lance Auruncan Actor wore;
147 Which with such force he brandish'd in his hand,
148 The tough ash trembled like an osier wand:
149 Then cried: "O pond'rous spoil of Actor slain,
150 And never yet by Turnus toss'd in vain,
151 Fail not this day thy wonted force; but go,
152 Sent by this hand, to pierce the Trojan foe!
153 Give me to tear his corslet from his breast,
154 And from that eunuch head to rend the crest;
155 Dragg'd in the dust, his frizzled hair to soil,
156 Hot from the vexing ir'n, and smear'd with fragrant oil!"

157 Thus while he raves, from his wide nostrils flies
158 A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes.
159 So fares the bull in his lov'd female's sight:
160 Proudly he bellows, and preludes the fight;
161 He tries his goring horns against a tree,
162 And meditates his absent enemy;
163 He pushes at the winds; he digs the strand
164 With his black hoofs, and spurns the yellow sand.

165 Nor less the Trojan, in his Lemnian arms,
166 To future fight his manly courage warms:
167 He whets his fury, and with joy prepares
168 To terminate at once the ling'ring wars;
169 To cheer his chiefs and tender son, relates
170 What Heav'n had promis'd, and expounds the fates.
171 Then to the Latian king he sends, to cease
172 The rage of arms, and ratify the peace.

173 The morn ensuing, from the mountain's height,
174 Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy light;
175 Th' ethereal coursers, bounding from the sea,
176 From out their flaming nostrils breath'd the day;
177 When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard,
178 In friendly labor join'd, the list prepar'd.
179 Beneath the walls they measure out the space;
180 Then sacred altars rear, on sods of grass,
181 Where, with religious their common gods they place.
182 In purest white the priests their heads attire;
183 And living waters bear, and holy fire;
184 And, o'er their linen hoods and shaded hair,
185 Long twisted wreaths of sacred veryain wear,

186 In order issuing from the town appears
187 The Latin legion, arm'd with pointed spears;
188 And from the fields, advancing on a line,
189 The Trojan and the Tuscan forces join:
190 Their various arms afford a pleasing sight;
191 A peaceful train they seem, in peace prepar'd for fight.
192 Betwixt the ranks the proud commanders ride,
193 Glitt'ring with gold, and vests in purple dyed;
194 Here Mnestheus, author of the Memmian line,
195 And there Messapus, born of seed divine.
196 The sign is giv'n; and, round the listed space,
197 Each man in order fills his proper place.
198 Reclining on their ample shields, they stand,
199 And fix their pointed lances in the sand.
200 Now, studious of the sight, a num'rous throng
201 Of either sex promiscuous, old and young,
202 Swarm the town: by those who rest behind,
203 The gates and walls and houses' tops are lin'd.
204 Meantime the Queen of Heav'n beheld the sight,
205 With eyes unpleas'd, from Mount Albano's height
206 (Since call'd Albano by succeeding fame,
207 But then an empty hill, without a name).
208 She thence survey'd the field, the Trojan pow'rs,
209 The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine tow'rs.
210 Then thus the goddess of the skies bespoke,
211 With sighs and tears, the goddess of the lake,
212 King Turnus' sister, once a lovely maid,
213 Ere to the lust of lawless Jove betray'd:
214 Compress'd by force, but, by the grateful god,
215 Now made the Nais of the neighb'ring flood.
216 "O nymph, the pride of living lakes," said she,
217 "O most renown'd, and most belov'd by me,
218 Long hast thou known, nor need I to record,
219 The wanton sallies of my wand'ring lord.
220 Of ev'ry Latian fair whom Jove misled
221 To mount by stealth my violated bed,
222 To thee alone I grudg'd not his embrace,
223 But gave a part of heav'n, and an unenvied place.
224 Now learn from me thy near approaching grief,
225 Nor think my wishes want to thy relief.
226 While fortune favor'd, nor Heav'n's King denied
227 To lend my succor to the Latian side,
228 I sav'd thy brother, and the sinking state:
229 But now he struggles with unequal fate,
230 And goes, with gods averse, o'ermatch'd in might,
231 To meet inevitable death in fight;
232 Nor must I break the truce, nor can sustain the sight.
233 Thou, if thou dar'st thy present aid supply;
234 It well becomes a sister's care to try."

235 At this the lovely nymph, with grief oppress'd,
236 Thrice tore her hair, and beat her comely breast.
237 To whom Saturnia thus: "Thy tears are late:
238 Haste, snatch him, if he can be snatch'd from fate:
239 New tumults kindle; violate the truce:
240 Who knows what changeful fortune may produce?
241 'T is not a crime t' attempt what I decree;
242 Or, if it were, discharge the crime on me."
243 She said, and, sailing on the winged wind,
244 Left the sad nymph suspended in her mind.

245 And now pomp the peaceful kings appear:
246 Four steeds the chariot of Latinus bear;
247 Twelve golden beams around his temples play,
248 To mark his lineage from the God of Day.
249 Two snowy coursers Turnus' chariot yoke,
250 And in his hand two massy spears he shook:
251 Then issued from the camp, in arms divine,
252 Aeneas, author of the Roman line;
253 And by his side Ascanius took his place,
254 The second hope of Rome's immortal race.
255 Adorn'd in white, a rev'rend priest appears,
256 And off'rings to the flaming altars bears;
257 A porket, and a lamb that never suffer'd shears.
258 Then to the rising sun he turns his eyes,
259 And strews the beasts, design'd for sacrifice,
260 With salt and meal: with like officious care
261 He marks their foreheads, and he clips their hair.
262 Betwixt their horns the purple wine he sheds;
263 With the same gen'rous juice the flame he feeds.

264 Aeneas then unsheath'd his shining sword,
265 And thus with pious pray'rs the gods ador'd:
266 "All-seeing sun, and thou, Ausonian soil,
267 For which I have sustain'd so long a toil,
268 Thou, King of Heav'n, and thou, the Queen of Air,
269 Propitious now, and reconcil'd by pray'r;
270 Thou, God of War, whose unresisted sway
271 The labors and events of arms obey;
272 Ye living fountains, and ye running floods,
273 All pow'rs of ocean, all ethereal gods,
274 Hear, and bear record: if I fall in field,
275 Or, recreant in the fight, to Turnus yield,
276 My Trojans shall encrease Evander's town;
277 Ascanius shall renounce th' Ausonian crown:
278 All claims, all questions of debate, shall cease;
279 Nor he, nor they, with force infringe the peace.
280 But, if my juster arms prevail in fight,
281 (As sure they shall, if I divine aright,)
282 My Trojans shall not o'er th' Italians reign:
283 Both equal, both unconquer'd shall remain,
284 Join'd in their laws, their lands, and their abodes;
285 I ask but altars for my weary gods.
286 The care of those religious rites be mine;
287 The crown to King Latinus I resign:
288 His be the sov'reign sway. Nor will I share
289 His pow'r in peace, or his command in war.
290 For me, my friends another town shall frame,
291 And bless the rising tow'rs with fair Lavinia's name."

292 Thus he. Then, with erected eyes and hands,
293 The Latian king before his altar stands.
294 "By the same heav'n," said he, "and earth, and main,
295 And all the pow'rs that all the three contain;
296 By hell below, and by that upper god
297 Whose thunder signs the peace, who seals it with his nod;
298 So let Latona's double offspring hear,
299 And double-fronted Janus, what I swear:
300 I touch the sacred altars, touch the flames,
301 And all those pow'rs attest, and all their names;
302 Whatever chance befall on either side,
303 No term of time this union shall divide:
304 No force, no fortune, shall my vows unbind,
305 Or shake the steadfast tenor of my mind;
306 Not tho' the circling seas should break their bound,
307 O'erflow the shores, or sap the solid ground;
308 Not tho' the lamps of heav'n their spheres forsake,
309 Hurl'd down, and hissing in the nether lake:
310 Ev'n as this royal scepter" (for he bore
311 A scepter in his hand) "shall never more
312 Shoot out in branches, or renew the birth:
313 An orphan now, cut from the mother earth
314 By the keen ax, dishonor'd of its hair,
315 And cas'd in brass, for Latian kings to bear."

316 When thus in public view the peace was tied
317 With solemn vows, and sworn on either side,
318 All dues perform'd which holy rites require;
319 The victim beasts are slain before the fire,
320 The trembling entrails from their bodies torn,
321 And to the fatten'd flames in chargers borne.

322 Already the Rutulians deem their man
323 O'ermatch'd in arms, before the fight began.
324 First rising fears are whisper'd thro' the crowd;
325 Then, gath'ring sound, they murmur more aloud.
326 Now, side to side, they measure with their eyes
327 The champions' bulk, their sinews, and their size:
328 The nearer they approach, the more is known
329 Th' apparent disadvantage of their own.
330 Turnus himself appears in public sight
331 Conscious of fate, desponding of the fight.
332 Slowly he moves, and at his altar stands
333 With eyes dejected, and with trembling hands;
334 And, while he mutters undistinguish'd pray'rs,
335 A livid deadness in his cheeks appears.

336 With anxious pleasure when Juturna view'd
337 Th' increasing fright of the mad multitude,
338 When their short sighs and thick'ning sobs she heard,
339 And found their ready minds for change prepar'd;
340 Dissembling her immortal form, she took
341 Camertus' mien, his habit, and his look;
342 A chief of ancient blood; in arms well known
343 Was his great sire, and he his greater son.
344 His shape assum'd, amid the ranks she ran,
345 And humoring their first motions, thus began:
346 "For shame, Rutulians, can you bear the sight
347 Of one expos'd for all, in single fight?
348 Can we, before the face of heav'n, confess
349 Our courage colder, or our numbers less?
350 View all the Trojan host, th' Arcadian band,
351 And Tuscan army; count 'em as they stand:
352 Undaunted to the battle if we go,
353 Scarce ev'ry second man will share a foe.
354 Turnus, 't is true, in this unequal strife,
355 Shall lose, with honor, his devoted life,
356 Or change it rather for immortal fame,
357 Succeeding to the gods, from whence he came:
358 But you, a servile and inglorious band,
359 For foreign lords shall sow your native land,
360 Those fruitful fields your fighting fathers gain'd,
361 Which have so long their lazy sons sustain'd."
362 With words like these, she carried her design:
363 A rising murmur runs along the line.
364 Then ev'n the city troops, and Latians, tir'd
365 With tedious war, seem with new souls inspir'd:
366 Their champion's fate with pity they lament,
367 And of the league, so lately sworn, repent.

368 Nor fails the goddess to foment the rage
369 With lying wonders, and a false presage;
370 But adds a sign, which, present to their eyes,
371 Inspires new courage, and a glad surprise.
372 For, sudden, in the fiery tracts above,
373 Appears in pomp th' imperial bird of Jove:
374 A plump of fowl he spies, that swim the lakes,
375 And o'er their heads his sounding pinions shakes;
376 Then, stooping on the fairest of the train,
377 In his strong talons truss'd a silver swan.
378 Th' Italians wonder at th' unusual sight;
379 But, while he lags, and labors in his flight,
380 Behold, the dastard fowl return anew,
381 And with united force the foe pursue:
382 Clam'rous around the royal hawk they fly,
383 And, thick'ning in a cloud, o'ershade the sky.
384 They cuff, they scratch, they cross his airy course;
385 Nor can th' incumber'd bird sustain their force;
386 But vex'd, not vanquish'd, drops the pond'rous prey,
387 And, lighten'd of his burthen, wings his way.

388 Th' Ausonian bands with shouts salute the sight,
389 Eager of action, and demand the fight.
390 Then King Tolumnius, vers'd in augurs' arts,
391 Cries out, and thus his boasted skill imparts:
392 "At length 't is granted, what I long desir'd!
393 This, this is what my frequent vows requir'd.
394 Ye gods, I take your omen, and obey.
395 Advance, my friends, and charge! I lead the way.
396 These are the foreign foes, whose impious band,
397 Like that rapacious bird, infest our land:
398 But soon, like him, they shall be forc'd to sea
399 By strength united, and forego the prey.
400 Your timely succor to your country bring,
401 Haste to the rescue, and redeem your king."

402 He said; and, pressing onward thro' the crew,
403 Pois'd in his lifted arm, his lance he threw.
404 The winged weapon, whistling in the wind,
405 Came driving on, nor miss'd the mark design'd.
406 At once the cornel rattled in the skies;
407 At once tumultuous shouts and clamors rise.
408 Nine brothers in a goodly band there stood,
409 Born of Arcadian mix'd with Tuscan blood,
410 Gylippus' sons: the fatal jav'lin flew,
411 Aim'd at the midmost of the friendly crew.
412 A passage thro' the jointed arms it found,
413 Just where the belt was to the body bound,
414 And struck the gentle youth extended on the ground.
415 Then, fir'd with pious rage, the gen'rous train
416 Run madly forward to revenge the slain.
417 And some with eager haste their jav'lins throw;
418 And some with sword in hand assault the foe.

419 The wish'd insult the Latine troops embrace,
420 And meet their ardor in the middle space.
421 The Trojans, Tuscans, and Arcadian line,
422 With equal courage obviate their design.
423 Peace leaves the violated fields, and hate
424 Both armies urges to their mutual fate.
425 With impious haste their altars are o'erturn'd,
426 The sacrifice half-broil'd, and half-unburn'd.
427 Thick storms of steel from either army fly,
428 And clouds of clashing darts obscure the sky;
429 Brands from the fire are missive weapons made,
430 With chargers, bowls, and all the priestly trade.
431 Latinus, frighted, hastens from the fray,
432 And bears his unregarded gods away.
433 These on their horses vault; those yoke the car;
434 The rest, with swords on high, run headlong to the war.

435 Messapus, eager to confound the peace,
436 Spurr'd his hot courser thro' the fighting prease,
437 At King Aulestes, by his purple known
438 A Tuscan prince, and by his regal crown;
439 And, with a shock encount'ring, bore him down.
440 Backward he fell; and, as his fate design'd,
441 The ruins of an altar were behind:
442 There, pitching on his shoulders and his head,
443 Amid the scatt'ring fires he lay supinely spread.
444 The beamy spear, descending from above,
445 His cuirass pierc'd, and thro' his body drove.
446 Then, with a scornful smile, the victor cries:
447 "The gods have found a fitter sacrifice."
448 Greedy of spoils, th' Italians strip the dead
449 Of his rich armor, and uncrown his head.

450 Priest Corynaeus, arm'd his better hand,
451 From his own altar, with a blazing brand;
452 And, as Ebusus with a thund'ring pace
453 Advanc'd to battle, dash'd it on his face:
454 His bristly beard shines out with sudden fires;
455 The crackling crop a noisome scent expires.
456 Following the blow, he seiz'd his curling crown
457 With his left hand; his other cast him down.
458 The prostrate body with his knees he press'd,
459 And plung'd his holy poniard in his breast.

460 While Podalirius, with his sword, pursued
461 The shepherd Alsus thro' the flying crowd,
462 Swiftly he turns, and aims a deadly blow
463 Full on the front of his unwary foe.
464 The broad ax enters with a crashing sound,
465 And cleaves the chin with one continued wound;
466 Warm blood, and mingled brains, besmear his arms around
467 An iron sleep his stupid eyes oppress'd,
468 And seal'd their heavy lids in endless rest.

469 But good Aeneas rush'd amid the bands;
470 Bare was his head, and naked were his hands,
471 In sign of truce: then thus he cries aloud:
472 "What sudden rage, what new desire of blood,
473 Inflames your alter'd minds? O Trojans, cease
474 From impious arms, nor violate the peace!
475 By human sanctions, and by laws divine,
476 The terms are all agreed; the war is mine.
477 Dismiss your fears, and let the fight ensue;
478 This hand alone shall right the gods and you:
479 Our injur'd altars, and their broken vow,
480 To this avenging sword the faithless Turnus owe."

481 Thus while he spoke, unmindful of defense,
482 A winged arrow struck the pious prince.
483 But, whether from some human hand it came,
484 Or hostile god, is left unknown by fame:
485 No human hand or hostile god was found,
486 To boast the triumph of so base a wound.

487 When Turnus saw the Trojan quit the plain,
488 His chiefs dismay'd, his troops a fainting train,
489 Th' unhop'd event his heighten'd soul inspires:
490 At once his arms and coursers he requires;
491 Then, with a leap, his lofty chariot gains,
492 And with a ready hand assumes the reins.
493 He drives impetuous, and, where'er he goes,
494 He leaves behind a lane of slaughter'd foes.
495 These his lance reaches; over those he rolls
496 His rapid car, and crushes out their souls:
497 In vain the vanquish'd fly; the victor sends
498 The dead men's weapons at their living friends.
499 Thus, on the banks of Hebrus' freezing flood,
500 The God of Battles, in his angry mood,
501 Clashing his sword against his brazen shield,
502 Let loose the reins, and scours along the field:
503 Before the wind his fiery coursers fly;
504 Groans the sad earth, resounds the rattling sky.
505 Wrath, Terror, Treason, Tumult, and Despair
506 (Dire faces, and deform'd) surround the car;
507 Friends of the god, and followers of the war.
508 With fury not unlike, nor less disdain,
509 Exulting Turnus flies along the plain:
510 His smoking horses, at their utmost speed,
511 He lashes on, and urges o'er the dead.
512 Their fetlocks run with blood; and, when they bound,
513 The gore and gath'ring dust are dash'd around.
514 Thamyris and Pholus, masters of the war,
515 He kill'd at hand, but Sthenelus afar:
516 From far the sons of Imbracus he slew,
517 Glaucus and Lades, of the Lycian crew;
518 Both taught to fight on foot, in battle join'd,
519 Or mount the courser that outstrips the wind.

520 Meantime Eumedes, vaunting in the field,
521 New fir'd the Trojans, and their foes repell'd.
522 This son of Dolon bore his grandsire's name,
523 But emulated more his father's fame;
524 His guileful father, sent a nightly spy,
525 The Grecian camp and order to descry:
526 Hard enterprise! and well he might require
527 Achilles' car and horses, for his hire:
528 But, met upon the scout, th' Aetolian prince
529 In death bestow'd a juster recompense.
530 Fierce Turnus view'd the Trojan from afar,
531 And launch'd his jav'lin from his lofty car;
532 Then lightly leaping down, pursued the blow,
533 And, pressing with his foot his prostrate foe,
534 Wrench'd from his feeble hold the shining sword,
535 And plung'd it in the bosom of its lord.
536 "Possess," said he, "the fruit of all thy pains,
537 And measure, at thy length, our Latian plains.
538 Thus are my foes rewarded by my hand;
539 Thus may they build their town, and thus enjoy the land!"

540 Then Dares, Butes, Sybaris he slew,
541 Whom o'er his neck his flound'ring courser threw.
542 As when loud Boreas, with his blust'ring train,
543 Stoops from above, incumbent on the main;
544 Where'er he flies, he drives the rack before,
545 And rolls the billows on th' Aegaean shore:
546 So, where resistless Turnus takes his course,
547 The scatter'd squadrons bend before his force;
548 His crest of horses' hair is blown behind
549 By adverse air, and rustles in the wind.

550 This haughty Phegeus saw with high disdain,
551 And, as the chariot roll'd along the plain,
552 Light from the ground he leapt, and seiz'd the rein.
553 Thus hung in air, he still retain'd his hold,
554 The coursers frighted, and their course controll'd.
555 The lance of Turnus reach'd him as he hung,
556 And pierc'd his plated arms, but pass'd along,
557 And only raz'd the skin. He turn'd, and held
558 Against his threat'ning foe his ample shield;
559 Then call'd for aid: but, while he cried in vain,
560 The chariot bore him backward on the plain.
561 He lies revers'd; the victor king descends,
562 And strikes so justly where his helmet ends,
563 He lops the head. The Latian fields are drunk
564 With streams that issue from the bleeding trunk.

565 While he triumphs, and while the Trojans yield,
566 The wounded prince is forc'd to leave the field:
567 Strong Mnestheus, and Achates often tried,
568 And young Ascanius, weeping by his side,
569 Conduct him to his tent. Scarce can he rear
570 His limbs from earth, supported on his spear.
571 Resolv'd in mind, regardless of the smart,
572 He tugs with both his hands, and breaks the dart.
573 The steel remains. No readier way he found
574 To draw the weapon, than t' inlarge the wound.
575 Eager of fight, impatient of delay,
576 He begs; and his unwilling friends obey.

577 Iapis was at hand to prove his art,
578 Whose blooming youth so fir'd Apollo's heart,
579 That, for his love, he proffer'd to bestow
580 His tuneful harp and his unerring bow.
581 The pious youth, more studious how to save
582 His aged sire, now sinking to the grave,
583 Preferr'd the pow'r of plants, and silent praise
584 Of healing arts, before Phoebean bays.

585 Propp'd on his lance the pensive hero stood,
586 And heard and saw, unmov'd, the mourning crowd.
587 The fam'd physician tucks his robes around
588 With ready hands, and hastens to the wound.
589 With gentle touches he performs his part,
590 This way and that, soliciting the dart,
591 And exercises all his heav'nly art.
592 All soft'ning simples, known of sov'reign use,
593 He presses out, and pours their noble juice.
594 These first infus'd, to lenify the pain,
595 He tugs with pincers, but he tugs in vain.
596 Then to the patron of his art he pray'd:
597 The patron of his art refus'd his aid.

598 Meantime the war approaches to the tents;
599 Th' alarm grows hotter, and the noise augments:
600 The driving dust proclaims the danger near;
601 And first their friends, and then their foes appear:
602 Their friends retreat; their foes pursue the rear.
603 The camp is fill'd with terror and affright:
604 The hissing shafts within the trench alight;
605 An undistinguish'd noise ascends the sky,
606 The shouts those who kill, and groans of those who die.

607 But now the goddess mother, mov'd with grief,
608 And pierc'd with pity, hastens her relief.
609 A branch of healing dittany she brought,
610 Which in the Cretan fields with care she sought:
611 Rough is the stern, which woolly leafs surround;
612 The leafs with flow'rs, the flow'rs with purple crown'd,
613 Well known to wounded goats; a sure relief
614 To draw the pointed steel, and ease the grief.
615 This Venus brings, in clouds involv'd, and brews
616 Th' extracted liquor with ambrosian dews,
617 And odorous panacee. Unseen she stands,
618 Temp'ring the mixture with her heav'nly hands,
619 And pours it in a bowl, already crown'd
620 With juice of med'c'nal herbs prepar'd to bathe the wound.
621 The leech, unknowing of superior art
622 Which aids the cure, with this foments the part;
623 And in a moment ceas'd the raging smart.
624 Stanch'd is the blood, and in the bottom stands:
625 The steel, but scarcely touch'd with tender hands,
626 Moves up, and follows of its own accord,
627 And health and vigor are at once restor'd.
628 Iapis first perceiv'd the closing wound,
629 And first the footsteps of a god he found.
630 "Arms! arms!" he cries; "the sword and shield prepare,
631 And send the willing chief, renew'd, to war.
632 This is no mortal work, no cure of mine,
633 Nor art's effect, but done by hands divine.
634 Some god our general to the battle sends;
635 Some god preserves his life for greater ends."

636 The hero arms in haste; his hands infold
637 His thighs with cuishes of refulgent gold:
638 Inflam'd to fight, and rushing to the field,
639 That hand sustaining the celestial shield,
640 This gripes the lance, and with such vigor shakes,
641 That to the rest the beamy weapon quakes.
642 Then with a close embrace he strain'd his son,
643 And, kissing thro' his helmet, thus begun:
644 "My son, from my example learn the war,
645 In camps to suffer, and in fields to dare;
646 But happier chance than mine attend thy care!
647 This day my hand thy tender age shall shield,
648 And crown with honors of the conquer'd field:
649 Thou, when thy riper years shall send thee forth
650 To toils of war, be mindful of my worth;
651 Assert thy birthright, and in arms be known,
652 For Hector's nephew, and Aeneas' son."
653 He said; and, striding, issued on the plain.
654 Anteus and Mnestheus, and a num'rous train,
655 Attend his steps; the rest their weapons take,
656 And, crowding to the field, the camp forsake.
657 A cloud of blinding dust is rais'd around,
658 Labors beneath their feet the trembling ground.

659 Now Turnus, posted on a hill, from far
660 Beheld the progress of the moving war:
661 With him the Latins view'd the cover'd plains,
662 And the chill blood ran backward in their veins.
663 Juturna saw th' advancing troops appear,
664 And heard the hostile sound, and fled for fear.
665 Aeneas leads; and draws a sweeping train,
666 Clos'd in their ranks, and pouring on the plain.
667 As when a whirlwind, rushing to the shore
668 From the mid ocean, drives the waves before;
669 The painful hind with heavy heart foresees
670 The flatted fields, and slaughter of the trees;
671 With like impetuous rage the prince appears
672 Before his doubled front, nor less destruction bears.
673 And now both armies shock in open field;
674 Osiris is by strong Thymbraeus kill'd.
675 Archetius, Ufens, Epulon, are slain
676 (All fam'd in arms, and of the Latian train)
677 By Gyas', Mnestheus', and Achates' hand.
678 The fatal augur falls, by whose command
679 The truce was broken, and whose lance, embrued
680 With Trojan blood, th' unhappy fight renew'd.
681 Loud shouts and clamors rend the liquid sky,
682 And o'er the field the frighted Latins fly.
683 The prince disdains the dastards to pursue,
684 Nor moves to meet in arms the fighting few;
685 Turnus alone, amid the dusky plain,
686 He seeks, and to the combat calls in vain.
687 Juturna heard, and, seiz'd with mortal fear,
688 Forc'd from the beam her brother's charioteer;
689 Assumes his shape, his armor, and his mien,
690 And, like Metiscus, in his seat is seen.

691 As the black swallow near the palace plies;
692 O'er empty courts, and under arches, flies;
693 Now hawks aloft, now skims along the flood,
694 To furnish her loquacious nest with food:
695 So drives the rapid goddess o'er the plains;
696 The smoking horses run with loosen'd reins.
697 She steers a various course among the foes;
698 Now here, now there, her conqu'ring brother shows;
699 Now with a straight, now with a wheeling flight,
700 She turns, and bends, but shuns the single fight.
701 Aeneas, fir'd with fury, breaks the crowd,
702 And seeks his foe, and calls by name aloud:
703 He runs within a narrower ring, and tries
704 To stop the chariot; but the chariot flies.
705 If he but gain a glimpse, Juturna fears,
706 And far away the Daunian hero bears.

707 What should he do! Nor arts nor arms avail;
708 And various cares in vain his mind assail.
709 The great Messapus, thund'ring thro' the field,
710 In his left hand two pointed jav'lins held:
711 Encount'ring on the prince, one dart he drew,
712 And with unerring aim and utmost vigor threw.
713 Aeneas saw it come, and, stooping low
714 Beneath his buckler, shunn'd the threat'ning blow.
715 The weapon hiss'd above his head, and tore
716 The waving plume which on his helm he wore.
717 Forced by this hostile act, and fir'd with spite,
718 That flying Turnus still declin'd the fight,
719 The Prince, whose piety had long repell'd
720 His inborn ardor, now invades the field;
721 Invokes the pow'rs of violated peace,
722 Their rites and injur'd altars to redress;
723 Then, to his rage abandoning the rein,
724 With blood and slaughter'd bodies fills the plain.

725 What god can tell, what numbers can display,
726 The various labors of that fatal day;
727 What chiefs and champions fell on either side,
728 In combat slain, or by what deaths they died;
729 Whom Turnus, whom the Trojan hero kill'd;
730 Who shar'd the fame and fortune of the field!
731 Jove, could'st thou view, and not avert thy sight,
732 Two jarring nations join'd in cruel fight,
733 Whom leagues of lasting love so shortly shall unite!

734 Aeneas first Rutulian Sucro found,
735 Whose valor made the Trojans quit their ground;
736 Betwixt his ribs the jav'lin drove so just,
737 It reach'd his heart, nor needs a second thrust.
738 Now Turnus, at two blows, two brethren slew;
739 First from his horse fierce Amycus he threw:
740 Then, leaping on the ground, on foot assail'd
741 Diores, and in equal fight prevail'd.
742 Their lifeless trunks he leaves upon the place;
743 Their heads, distilling gore, his chariot grace.

744 Three cold on earth the Trojan hero threw,
745 Whom without respite at one charge he slew:
746 Cethegus, Tanais, Tagus, fell oppress'd,
747 And sad Onythes, added to the rest,
748 Of Theban blood, whom Peridia bore.

749 Turnus two brothers from the Lycian shore,
750 And from Apollo's fane to battle sent,
751 O'erthrew; nor Phoebus could their fate prevent.
752 Peaceful Menoetes after these he kill'd,
753 Who long had shunn'd the dangers of the field:
754 On Lerna's lake a silent life he led,
755 And with his nets and angle earn'd his bread;
756 Nor pompous cares, nor palaces, he knew,
757 But wisely from th' infectious world withdrew:
758 Poor was his house; his father's painful hand
759 Discharg'd his rent, and plow'd another's land.

760 As flames among the lofty woods are thrown
761 On diff'rent sides, and both by winds are blown;
762 The laurels crackle in the sputt'ring fire;
763 The frighted sylvans from their shades retire:
764 Or as two neighb'ring torrents fall from high;
765 Rapid they run; the foamy waters fry;
766 They roll to sea with unresisted force,
767 And down the rocks precipitate their course:
768 Not with less rage the rival heroes take
769 Their diff'rent ways, nor less destruction make.
770 With spears afar, with swords at hand, they strike;
771 And zeal of slaughter fires their souls alike.
772 Like them, their dauntless men maintain the field;
773 And hearts are pierc'd, unknowing how to yield:
774 They blow for blow return, and wound for wound;
775 And heaps of bodies raise the level ground.

776 Murranus, boasting of his blood, that springs
777 From a long royal race of Latian kings,
778 Is by the Trojan from his chariot thrown,
779 Crush'd with the weight of an unwieldy stone:
780 Betwixt the wheels he fell; the wheels, that bore
781 His living load, his dying body tore.
782 His starting steeds, to shun the glitt'ring sword,
783 Paw down his trampled limbs, forgetful of their lord.

784 Fierce Hyllus threaten'd high, and, face to face,
785 Affronted Turnus in the middle space:
786 The prince encounter'd him in full career,
787 And at his temples aim'd the deadly spear;
788 So fatally the flying weapon sped,
789 That thro' his helm it pierc'd his head.
790 Nor, Cisseus, couldst thou scape from Turnus' hand,
791 In vain the strongest of th' Arcadian band:
792 Nor to Cupentus could his gods afford
793 Availing aid against th' Aenean sword,
794 Which to his naked heart pursued the course;
795 Nor could his plated shield sustain the force.

796 Iolas fell, whom not the Grecian pow'rs,
797 Nor great subverter of the Trojan tow'rs,
798 Were doom'd to kill, while Heav'n prolong'd his date;
799 But who can pass the bounds, prefix'd by fate?
800 In high Lyrnessus, and in Troy, he held
801 Two palaces, and was from each expell'd:
802 Of all the mighty man, the last remains
803 A little spot of foreign earth contains.

804 And now both hosts their broken troops unite
805 In equal ranks, and mix in mortal fight.
806 Seresthus and undaunted Mnestheus join
807 The Trojan, Tuscan, and Arcadian line:
808 Sea-born Messapus, with Atinas, heads
809 The Latin squadrons, and to battle leads.
810 They strike, they push, they throng the scanty space,
811 Resolv'd on death, impatient of disgrace;
812 And, where one falls, another fills his place.

813 The Cyprian goddess now inspires her son
814 To leave th' unfinish'd fight, and storm the town:
815 For, while he rolls his eyes around the plain
816 In quest of Turnus, whom he seeks in vain,
817 He views th' unguarded city from afar,
818 In careless quiet, and secure of war.
819 Occasion offers, and excites his mind
820 To dare beyond the task he first design'd.
821 Resolv'd, he calls his chiefs; they leave the fight:
822 Attended thus, he takes a neighb'ring height;
823 The crowding troops about their gen'ral stand,
824 All under arms, and wait his high command.
825 Then thus the lofty prince: "Hear and obey,
826 Ye Trojan bands, without the least delay
827 Jove is with us; and what I have decreed
828 Requires our utmost vigor, and our speed.
829 Your instant arms against the town prepare,
830 The source of mischief, and the seat of war.
831 This day the Latian tow'rs, that mate the sky,
832 Shall level with the plain in ashes lie:
833 The people shall be slaves, unless in time
834 They kneel for pardon, and repent their crime.
835 Twice have our foes been vanquish'd on the plain:
836 Then shall I wait till Turnus will be slain?
837 Your force against the perjur'd city bend.
838 There it began, and there the war shall end.
839 The peace profan'd our rightful arms requires;
840 Cleanse the polluted place with purging fires."

841 He finish'd; and, one soul inspiring all,
842 Form'd in a wedge, the foot approach the wall.
843 Without the town, an unprovided train
844 Of gaping, gazing citizens are slain.
845 Some firebrands, others scaling ladders bear,
846 And those they toss aloft, and these they rear:
847 The flames now launch'd, the feather'd arrows fly,
848 And clouds of missive arms obscure the sky.
849 Advancing to the front, the hero stands,
850 And, stretching out to heav'n his pious hands,
851 Attests the gods, asserts his innocence,
852 Upbraids with breach of faith th' Ausonian prince;
853 Declares the royal honor doubly stain'd,
854 And twice the rites of holy peace profan'd.

855 Dissenting clamors in the town arise;
856 Each will be heard, and all at once advise.
857 One part for peace, and one for war contends;
858 Some would exclude their foes, and some admit their friends.
859 The helpless king is hurried in the throng,
860 And, whate'er tide prevails, is borne along.
861 Thus, when the swain, within a hollow rock,
862 Invades the bees with suffocating smoke,
863 They run around, or labor on their wings,
864 Disus'd to flight, and shoot their sleepy stings;
865 To shun the bitter fumes in vain they try;
866 Black vapors, issuing from the vent, involve the sky.

867 But fate and envious fortune now prepare
868 To plunge the Latins in the last despair.
869 The queen, who saw the foes invade the town,
870 And brands on tops of burning houses thrown,
871 Cast round her eyes, distracted with her fear-
872 No troops of Turnus in the field appear.
873 Once more she stares abroad, but still in vain,
874 And then concludes the royal youth is slain.
875 Mad with her anguish, impotent to bear
876 The mighty grief, she loathes the vital air.
877 She calls herself the cause of all this ill,
878 And owns the dire effects of her ungovern'd will;
879 She raves against the gods; she beats her breast;
880 She tears with both her hands her purple vest:
881 Then round a beam a running noose she tied,
882 And, fasten'd by the neck, obscenely died.

883 Soon as the fatal news by Fame was blown,
884 And to her dames and to her daughter known,
885 The sad Lavinia rends her yellow hair
886 And rosy cheeks; the rest her sorrow share:
887 With shrieks the palace rings, and madness of despair.
888 The spreading rumor fills the public place:
889 Confusion, fear, distraction, and disgrace,
890 And silent shame, are seen in ev'ry face.
891 Latinus tears his garments as he goes,
892 Both for his public and his private woes;
893 With filth his venerable beard besmears,
894 And sordid dust deforms his silver hairs.
895 And much he blames the softness of his mind,
896 Obnoxious to the charms of womankind,
897 And soon seduc'd to change what he so well design'd;
898 To break the solemn league so long desir'd,
899 Nor finish what his fates, and those of Troy, requir'd.

900 Now Turnus rolls aloof o'er empty plains,
901 And here and there some straggling foes he gleans.
902 His flying coursers please him less and less,
903 Asham'd of easy fight and cheap success.
904 Thus half-contented, anxious in his mind,
905 The distant cries come driving in the wind,
906 Shouts from the walls, but shouts in murmurs drown'd;
907 A jarring mixture, and a boding sound.
908 "Alas!" said he, "what mean these dismal cries?
909 What doleful clamors from the town arise?"
910 Confus'd, he stops, and backward pulls the reins.
911 She who the driver's office now sustains,
912 Replies: "Neglect, my lord, these new alarms;
913 Here fight, and urge the fortune of your arms:
914 There want not others to defend the wall.
915 If by your rival's hand th' Italians fall,
916 So shall your fatal sword his friends oppress,
917 In honor equal, equal in success."

918 To this, the prince: "O sister- for I knew
919 The peace infring'd proceeded first from you;
920 I knew you, when you mingled first in fight;
921 And now in vain you would deceive my sight-
922 Why, goddess, this unprofitable care?
923 Who sent you down from heav'n, involv'd in air,
924 Your share of mortal sorrows to sustain,
925 And see your brother bleeding on the plain?
926 For to what pow'r can Turnus have recourse,
927 Or how resist his fate's prevailing force?
928 These eyes beheld Murranus bite the ground:
929 Mighty the man, and mighty was the wound.
930 I heard my dearest friend, with dying breath,
931 My name invoking to revenge his death.
932 Brave Ufens fell with honor on the place,
933 To shun the shameful sight of my disgrace.
934 On earth supine, a manly corpse he lies;
935 His vest and armor are the victor's prize.
936 Then, shall I see Laurentum in a flame,
937 Which only wanted, to complete my shame?
938 How will the Latins hoot their champion's flight!
939 How Drances will insult and point them to the sight!
940 Is death so hard to bear? Ye gods below,
941 (Since those above so small compassion show,)
942 Receive a soul unsullied yet with shame,
943 Which not belies my great forefather's name!"

944 He said; and while he spoke, with flying speed
945 Came Sages urging on his foamy steed:
946 Fix'd on his wounded face a shaft he bore,
947 And, seeking Turnus, sent his voice before:
948 "Turnus, on you, on you alone, depends
949 Our last relief: compassionate your friends!
950 Like lightning, fierce Aeneas, rolling on,
951 With arms invests, with flames invades the town:
952 The brands are toss'd on high; the winds conspire
953 To drive along the deluge of the fire.
954 All eyes are fix'd on you: your foes rejoice;
955 Ev'n the king staggers, and suspends his choice;
956 Doubts to deliver or defend the town,
957 Whom to reject, or whom to call his son.
958 The queen, on whom your utmost hopes were plac'd,
959 Herself suborning death, has breath'd her last.
960 'T is true, Messapus, fearless of his fate,
961 With fierce Atinas' aid, defends the gate:
962 On ev'ry side surrounded by the foe,
963 The more they kill, the greater numbers grow;
964 An iron harvest mounts, and still remains to mow.
965 You, far aloof from your forsaken bands,
966 Your rolling chariot drive o'er empty

967 Stupid he sate, his eyes on earth declin'd,
968 And various cares revolving in his mind:
969 Rage, boiling from the bottom of his breast,
970 And sorrow mix'd with shame, his soul oppress'd;
971 And conscious worth lay lab'ring in his thought,
972 And love by jealousy to madness wrought.
973 By slow degrees his reason drove away
974 The mists of passion, and resum'd her sway.
975 Then, rising on his car, he turn'd his look,
976 And saw the town involv'd in fire and smoke.
977 A wooden tow'r with flames already blaz'd,
978 Which his own hands on beams and rafters rais'd;
979 And bridges laid above to join the space,
980 And wheels below to roll from place to place.
981 "Sister, the Fates have vanquish'd: let us go
982 The way which Heav'n and my hard fortune show.
983 The fight is fix'd; nor shall the branded name
984 Of a base coward blot your brother's fame.
985 Death is my choice; but suffer me to try
986 My force, and vent my rage before I die."
987 He said; and, leaping down without delay,
988 Thro' crowds of scatter'd foes he freed his way.
989 Striding he pass'd, impetuous as the wind,
990 And left the grieving goddess far behind.
991 As when a fragment, from a mountain torn
992 By raging tempests, or by torrents borne,
993 Or sapp'd by time, or loosen'd from the roots-
994 Prone thro' the void the rocky ruin shoots,
995 Rolling from crag to crag, from steep to steep;
996 Down sink, at once, the shepherds and their sheep:
997 Involv'd alike, they rush to nether ground;
998 Stunn'd with the shock they fall, and stunn'd from earth rebound:
999 So Turnus, hasting headlong to the town,
1000 Should'ring and shoving, bore the squadrons down.
1001 Still pressing onward, to the walls he drew,
1002 Where shafts, and spears, and darts promiscuous flew,
1003 And sanguine streams the slipp'ry ground embrue.
1004 First stretching out his arm, in sign of peace,
1005 He cries aloud, to make the combat cease:
1006 "Rutulians, hold; and Latin troops, retire!
1007 The fight is mine; and me the gods require.
1008 'T is just that I should vindicate alone
1009 The broken truce, or for the breach atone.
1010 This day shall free from wars th' Ausonian state,
1011 Or finish my misfortunes in my fate."

1012 Both armies from their bloody work desist,
1013 And, bearing backward, form a spacious list.
1014 The Trojan hero, who receiv'd from fame
1015 The welcome sound, and heard the champion's name,
1016 Soon leaves the taken works and mounted walls,
1017 Greedy of war where greater glory calls.
1018 He springs to fight, exulting in his force
1019 His jointed armor rattles in the course.
1020 Like Eryx, or like Athos, great he shows,
1021 Or Father Apennine, when, white with snows,
1022 His head divine obscure in clouds he hides,
1023 And shakes the sounding forest on his sides.
1024 The nations, overaw'd, surcease the fight;
1025 Immovable their bodies, fix'd their sight.
1026 Ev'n death stands still; nor from above they throw
1027 Their darts, nor drive their batt'ring-rams below.
1028 In silent order either army stands,
1029 And drop their swords, unknowing, from their hands.
1030 Th' Ausonian king beholds, with wond'ring sight,
1031 Two mighty champions match'd in single fight,
1032 Born under climes remote, and brought by fate,
1033 With swords to try their titles to the state.

1034 Now, in clos'd field, each other from afar
1035 They view; and, rushing on, begin the war.
1036 They launch their spears; then hand to hand they meet;
1037 The trembling soil resounds beneath their feet:
1038 Their bucklers clash; thick blows descend from high,
1039 And flakes of fire from their hard helmets fly.
1040 Courage conspires with chance, and both ingage
1041 With equal fortune yet, and mutual rage.
1042 As when two bulls for their fair female fight
1043 In Sila's shades, or on Taburnus' height;
1044 With horns adverse they meet; the keeper flies;
1045 Mute stands the herd; the heifers roll their eyes,
1046 And wait th' event; which victor they shall bear,
1047 And who shall be the lord, to rule the lusty year:
1048 With rage of love the jealous rivals burn,
1049 And push for push, and wound for wound return;
1050 Their dewlaps gor'd, their sides are lav'd in blood;
1051 Loud cries and roaring sounds rebellow thro' the wood:
1052 Such was the combat in the listed ground;
1053 So clash their swords, and so their shields resound.

1054 Jove sets the beam; in either scale he lays
1055 The champions' fate, and each exactly weighs.
1056 On this side, life and lucky chance ascends;
1057 Loaded with death, that other scale descends.
1058 Rais'd on the stretch, young Turnus aims a blow
1059 Full on the helm of his unguarded foe:
1060 Shrill shouts and clamors ring on either side,
1061 As hopes and fears their panting hearts divide.
1062 But all in pieces flies the traitor sword,
1063 And, in the middle stroke, deserts his lord.
1064 Now is but death, or flight; disarm'd he flies,
1065 When in his hand an unknown hilt he spies.
1066 Fame says that Turnus, when his steeds he join'd,
1067 Hurrying to war, disorder'd in his mind,
1068 Snatch'd the first weapon which his haste could find.
1069 'T was not the fated sword his father bore,
1070 But that his charioteer Metiscus wore.
1071 This, while the Trojans fled, the toughness held;
1072 But, vain against the great Vulcanian shield,
1073 The mortal-temper'd steel deceiv'd his hand:
1074 The shiver'd fragments shone amid the sand.

1075 Surpris'd with fear, he fled along the field,
1076 And now forthright, and now in orbits wheel'd;
1077 For here the Trojan troops the list surround,
1078 And there the pass is clos'd with pools and marshy ground.
1079 Aeneas hastens, tho' with heavier pace-
1080 His wound, so newly knit, retards the chase,
1081 And oft his trembling knees their aid refuse-
1082 Yet, pressing foot by foot, his foe pursues.

1083 Thus, when a fearful stag is clos'd around
1084 With crimson toils, or in a river found,
1085 High on the bank the deep-mouth'd hound appears,
1086 Still opening, following still, where'er he steers;
1087 The persecuted creature, to and fro,
1088 Turns here and there, to scape his Umbrian foe:
1089 Steep is th' ascent, and, if he gains the land,
1090 The purple death is pitch'd along the strand.
1091 His eager foe, determin'd to the chase,
1092 Stretch'd at his length, gains ground at ev'ry pace;
1093 Now to his beamy head he makes his way,
1094 And now he holds, or thinks he holds, his prey:
1095 Just at the pinch, the stag springs out with fear;
1096 He bites the wind, and fills his sounding jaws with air:
1097 The rocks, the lakes, the meadows ring with cries;
1098 The mortal tumult mounts, and thunders in the skies.
1099 Thus flies the Daunian prince, and, flying, blames
1100 His tardy troops, and, calling by their names,
1101 Demands his trusty sword. The Trojan threats
1102 The realm with ruin, and their ancient seats
1103 To lay in ashes, if they dare supply
1104 With arms or aid his vanquish'd enemy:
1105 Thus menacing, he still pursues the course,
1106 With vigor, tho' diminish'd of his force.
1107 Ten times already round the listed place
1108 One chief had fled, and t' other giv'n the chase:
1109 No trivial prize is play'd; for on the life
1110 Or death of Turnus now depends the strife.

1111 Within the space, an olive tree had stood,
1112 A sacred shade, a venerable wood,
1113 For vows to Faunus paid, the Latins' guardian god.
1114 Here hung the vests, and tablets were ingrav'd,
1115 Of sinking mariners from shipwrack sav'd.
1116 With heedless hands the Trojans fell'd the tree,
1117 To make the ground inclos'd for combat free.
1118 Deep in the root, whether by fate, or chance,
1119 Or erring haste, the Trojan drove his lance;
1120 Then stoop'd, and tugg'd with force immense, to free
1121 Th' incumber'd spear from the tenacious tree;
1122 That, whom his fainting limbs pursued in vain,
1123 His flying weapon might from far attain.

1124 Confus'd with fear, bereft of human aid,
1125 Then Turnus to the gods, and first to Faunus pray'd:
1126 "O Faunus, pity! and thou Mother Earth,
1127 Where I thy foster son receiv'd my birth,
1128 Hold fast the steel! If my religious hand
1129 Your plant has honor'd, which your foes profan'd,
1130 Propitious hear my pious pray'r!" He said,
1131 Nor with successless vows invok'd their aid.
1132 Th' incumbent hero wrench'd, and pull'd, and strain'd;
1133 But still the stubborn earth the steel detain'd.
1134 Juturna took her time; and, while in vain
1135 He strove, assum'd Meticus' form again,
1136 And, in that imitated shape, restor'd
1137 To the despairing prince his Daunian sword.
1138 The Queen of Love, who, with disdain and grief,
1139 Saw the bold nymph afford this prompt relief,
1140 T' assert her offspring with a greater deed,
1141 From the tough root the ling'ring weapon freed.

1142 Once more erect, the rival chiefs advance:
1143 One trusts the sword, and one the pointed lance;
1144 And both resolv'd alike to try their fatal chance.

1145 Meantime imperial Jove to Juno spoke,
1146 Who from a shining cloud beheld the shock:
1147 "What new arrest, O Queen of Heav'n, is sent
1148 To stop the Fates now lab'ring in th' event?
1149 What farther hopes are left thee to pursue?
1150 Divine Aeneas, (and thou know'st it too,)
1151 Foredoom'd, to these celestial seats are due.
1152 What more attempts for Turnus can be made,
1153 That thus thou ling'rest in this lonely shade?
1154 Is it becoming of the due respect
1155 And awful honor of a god elect,
1156 A wound unworthy of our state to feel,
1157 Patient of human hands and earthly steel?
1158 Or seems it just, the sister should restore
1159 A second sword, when one was lost before,
1160 And arm a conquer'd wretch against his conqueror?
1161 For what, without thy knowledge and avow,
1162 Nay more, thy dictate, durst Juturna do?
1163 At last, in deference to my love, forbear
1164 To lodge within thy soul this anxious care;
1165 Reclin'd upon my breast, thy grief unload:
1166 Who should relieve the goddess, but the god?
1167 Now all things to their utmost issue tend,
1168 Push'd by the Fates to their appointed
1169 While leave was giv'n thee, and a lawful hour
1170 For vengeance, wrath, and unresisted pow'r,
1171 Toss'd on the seas, thou couldst thy foes distress,
1172 And, driv'n ashore, with hostile arms oppress;
1173 Deform the royal house; and, from the side
1174 Of the just bridegroom, tear the plighted bride:
1175 Now cease at my command." The Thund'rer said;
1176 And, with dejected eyes, this answer Juno made:
1177 "Because your dread decree too well I knew,
1178 From Turnus and from earth unwilling I withdrew.
1179 Else should you not behold me here, alone,
1180 Involv'd in empty clouds, my friends bemoan,
1181 But, girt with vengeful flames, in open sight
1182 Engag'd against my foes in mortal fight.
1183 'T is true, Juturna mingled in the strife
1184 By my command, to save her brother's life-
1185 At least to try; but, by the Stygian lake,
1186 (The most religious oath the gods can take,)
1187 With this restriction, not to bend the bow,
1188 Or toss the spear, or trembling dart to throw.
1189 And now, resign'd to your superior might,
1190 And tir'd with fruitless toils, I loathe the fight.
1191 This let me beg (and this no fates withstand)
1192 Both for myself and for your father's land,
1193 That, when the nuptial bed shall bind the peace,
1194 (Which I, since you ordain, consent to bless,)
1195 The laws of either nation be the same;
1196 But let the Latins still retain their name,
1197 Speak the same language which they spoke before,
1198 Wear the same habits which their grandsires wore.
1199 Call them not Trojans: perish the renown
1200 And name of Troy, with that detested town.
1201 Latium be Latium still; let Alba reign
1202 And Rome's immortal majesty remain."

1203 Then thus the founder of mankind replies
1204 (Unruffled was his front, serene his eyes)
1205 "Can Saturn's issue, and heav'n's other heir,
1206 Such endless anger in her bosom bear?
1207 Be mistress, and your full desires obtain;
1208 But quench the choler you foment in vain.
1209 From ancient blood th' Ausonian people sprung,
1210 Shall keep their name, their habit, and their tongue.
1211 The Trojans to their customs shall be tied:
1212 I will, myself, their common rites provide;
1213 The natives shall command, the foreigners subside.
1214 All shall be Latium; Troy without a name;
1215 And her lost sons forget from whence they came.
1216 From blood so mix'd, a pious race shall flow,
1217 Equal to gods, excelling all below.
1218 No nation more respect to you shall pay,
1219 Or greater off'rings on your altars lay."
1220 Juno consents, well pleas'd that her desires
1221 Had found success, and from the cloud retires.

1222 The peace thus made, the Thund'rer next prepares
1223 To force the wat'ry goddess from the wars.
1224 Deep in the dismal regions void of light,
1225 Three daughters at a birth were born to Night:
1226 These their brown mother, brooding on her care,
1227 Indued with windy wings to flit in air,
1228 With serpents girt alike, and crown'd with hissing hair.
1229 In heav'n the Dirae call'd, and still at hand,
1230 Before the throne of angry Jove they stand,
1231 His ministers of wrath, and ready still
1232 The minds of mortal men with fears to fill,
1233 Whene'er the moody sire, to wreak his hate
1234 On realms or towns deserving of their fate,
1235 Hurls down diseases, death and deadly care,
1236 And terrifies the guilty world with war.
1237 One sister plague if these from heav'n he sent,
1238 To fright Juturna with a dire portent.
1239 The pest comes whirling down: by far more slow
1240 Springs the swift arrow from the Parthian bow,
1241 Or Cydon yew, when, traversing the skies,
1242 And drench'd in pois'nous juice, the sure destruction flies.
1243 With such a sudden and unseen a flight
1244 Shot thro' the clouds the daughter of the night.
1245 Soon as the field inclos'd she had in view,
1246 And from afar her destin'd quarry knew,
1247 Contracted, to the boding bird she turns,
1248 Which haunts the ruin'd piles and hallow'd urns,
1249 And beats about the tombs with nightly wings,
1250 Where songs obscene on sepulchers she sings.
1251 Thus lessen'd in her form, with frightful cries
1252 The Fury round unhappy Turnus flies,
1253 Flaps on his shield, and flutters o'er his eyes.

1254 A lazy chillness crept along his blood;
1255 Chok'd was his voice; his hair with horror stood.
1256 Juturna from afar beheld her fly,
1257 And knew th' ill omen, by her screaming cry
1258 And stridor of her wings. Amaz'd with fear,
1259 Her beauteous breast she beat, and rent her flowing hair.

1260 "Ah me!" she cries, "in this unequal strife
1261 What can thy sister more to save thy life?
1262 Weak as I am, can I, alas! contend
1263 In arms with that inexorable fiend?
1264 Now, now, I quit the field! forbear to fright
1265 My tender soul, ye baleful birds of night;
1266 The lashing of your wings I know too well,
1267 The sounding flight, and fun'ral screams of hell!
1268 These are the gifts you bring from haughty Jove,
1269 The worthy recompense of ravish'd love!
1270 Did he for this exempt my life from fate?
1271 O hard conditions of immortal state,
1272 Tho' born to death, not privileg'd to die,
1273 But forc'd to bear impos'd eternity!
1274 Take back your envious bribes, and let me go
1275 Companion to my brother's ghost below!
1276 The joys are vanish'd: nothing now remains,
1277 Of life immortal, but immortal pains.
1278 What earth will open her devouring womb,
1279 To rest a weary goddess in the tomb!"
1280 She drew a length of sighs; nor more she said,
1281 But in her azure mantle wrapp'd her head,
1282 Then plung'd into her stream, with deep despair,
1283 And her last sobs came bubbling up in air.

1284 Now stern Aeneas his weighty spear
1285 Against his foe, and thus upbraids his fear:
1286 "What farther subterfuge can Turnus find?
1287 What empty hopes are harbor'd in his mind?
1288 'T is not thy swiftness can secure thy flight;
1289 Not with their feet, but hands, the valiant fight.
1290 Vary thy shape in thousand forms, and dare
1291 What skill and courage can attempt in war;
1292 Wish for the wings of winds, to mount the sky;
1293 Or hid, within the hollow earth to lie!"
1294 The champion shook his head, and made this short reply:
1295 "No threats of thine my manly mind can move;
1296 'T is hostile heav'n I dread, and partial Jove."
1297 He said no more, but, with a sigh, repress'd
1298 The mighty sorrow in his swelling breast.

1299 Then, as he roll'd his troubled eyes around,
1300 An antique stone he saw, the common bound
1301 Of neighb'ring fields, and barrier of the ground;
1302 So vast, that twelve strong men of modern days
1303 Th' enormous weight from earth could hardly raise.
1304 He heav'd it at a lift, and, pois'd on high,
1305 Ran stagg'ring on against his enemy,
1306 But so disorder'd, that he scarcely knew
1307 His way, or what unwieldly weight he threw.
1308 His knocking knees are bent beneath the load,
1309 And shiv'ring cold congeals his vital blood.
1310 The stone drops from his arms, and, falling short
1311 For want of vigor, mocks his vain effort.
1312 And as, when heavy sleep has clos'd the sight,
1313 The sickly fancy labors in the night;
1314 We seem to run; and, destitute of force,
1315 Our sinking limbs forsake us in the course:
1316 In vain we heave for breath; in vain we cry;
1317 The nerves, unbrac'd, their usual strength deny;
1318 And on the tongue the falt'ring accents die:
1319 So Turnus far'd; whatever means he tried,
1320 All force of arms and points of art employ'd,
1321 The Fury flew athwart, and made th' endeavor void.

1322 A thousand various thoughts his soul confound;
1323 He star'd about, nor aid nor issue found;
1324 His own men stop the pass, and his own walls surround.
1325 Once more he pauses, and looks out again,
1326 And seeks the goddess charioteer in vain.
1327 Trembling he views the thund'ring chief advance,
1328 And brandishing aloft the deadly lance:
1329 Amaz'd he cow'rs beneath his conqu'ring foe,
1330 Forgets to ward, and waits the coming blow.
1331 Astonish'd while he stands, and fix'd with fear,
1332 Aim'd at his shield he sees th' impending spear.

1333 The hero measur'd first, with narrow view,
1334 The destin'd mark; and, rising as he threw,
1335 With its full swing the fatal weapon flew.
1336 Not with less rage the rattling thunder falls,
1337 Or stones from batt'ring-engines break the walls:
1338 Swift as a whirlwind, from an arm so strong,
1339 The lance drove on, and bore the death along.
1340 Naught could his sev'nfold shield the prince avail,
1341 Nor aught, beneath his arms, the coat of mail:
1342 It pierc'd thro' all, and with a grisly wound
1343 Transfix'd his thigh, and doubled him to ground.
1344 With groans the Latins rend the vaulted sky:
1345 Woods, hills, and valleys, to the voice reply.

1346 Now low on earth the lofty chief is laid,
1347 With eyes cast upward, and with arms display'd,
1348 And, recreant, thus to the proud victor pray'd:
1349 "I know my death deserv'd, nor hope to live:
1350 Use what the gods and thy good fortune give.
1351 Yet think, O think, if mercy may be shown-
1352 Thou hadst a father once, and hast a son-
1353 Pity my sire, now sinking to the grave;
1354 And for Anchises' sake old Daunus save!
1355 Or, if thy vow'd revenge pursue my death,
1356 Give to my friends my body void of breath!
1357 The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life;
1358 Thine is the conquest, thine the royal wife:
1359 Against a yielded man, 't is mean ignoble strife."

1360 In deep suspense the Trojan seem'd to stand,
1361 And, just prepar'd to strike, repress'd his hand.
1362 He roll'd his eyes, and ev'ry moment felt
1363 His manly soul with more compassion melt;
1364 When, casting down a casual glance, he spied
1365 The golden belt that glitter'd on his side,
1366 The fatal spoils which haughty Turnus tore
1367 From dying Pallas, and in triumph wore.
1368 Then, rous'd anew to wrath, he loudly cries
1369 (Flames, while he spoke, came flashing from his eyes)
1370 "Traitor, dost thou, dost thou to grace pretend,
1371 Clad, as thou art, in trophies of my friend?
1372 To his sad soul a grateful off'ring go!
1373 'T is Pallas, Pallas gives this deadly blow."
1374 He rais'd his arm aloft, and, at the word,
1375 Deep in his bosom drove the shining sword.
1376 The streaming blood distain'd his arms around,
1377 And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound.