Aeneid

her brother's glory, but not yet allows

the final tug of war; her pathless flight

keeps far away. Aeneas too must take

a course circuitous, and follows close

his foeman's track; Ioud o'er the scattered lines

he shouts his challenge. But whene'er his eyes

discern the foe, and fain he would confront

the flying-footed steeds, Juturna veers

the chariot round and flies. What can he do?

Aeneas' wrath storms vainly to and fro,

and wavering purposes his heart divide.

Against him lightly leaped Messapus forth,

bearing two pliant javelins tipped with steel;

and, whirling one in air, he aimed it well,

with stroke unfailing. Great Aeneas paused

in cover of his shield and crouched low down

upon his haunches. But the driven spear

battered his helmet's peak and plucked away

the margin of his plume. Then burst his rage:

his cunning foes had forced him; so at last,

while steeds and chariot in the distance fly,

he plunged him in the fray, and called on Jove

the altars of that broken oath to see.

Now by the war-god's favor he began

grim, never-pitying slaughter, and flung free

the bridle of his rage.

What voice divine

such horror can make known? What song declare

the bloodshed manifold, the princes slain,

or flying o'er the field from Turnus' blade,

or from the Trojan King? Did Jove ordain

so vast a shock of arms should interpose

'twixt nations destined to perpetual bond?

Aeneas met the Rutule Sucro—thus

staying the Trojan charge—and with swift blow

struck at him sidewise, where the way of death

is quickest, cleaving ribs and rounded side

with reeking sword. Turnus met Amycus,

unhorsed him, though himself afoot, and slew

Diores, his fair brother (one was pierced

fronting the spear, the other felled to earth

by strike of sword), and both their severed heads

he hung all dripping to his chariot's rim.

But Talon, Tanais, and Cethegus brave,

three in one onset, unto death went down

at great Aeneas' hand; and he dispatched

ill-starred Onites of Echion's line,

fair Peridia's child. Then Turnus slew

two Lycian brothers unto Phoebus dear,

and young Menoetes, an Arcadian,

who hated war (though vainly) when he plied

his native fisher-craft in Lerna's streams,

where from his mean abode he ne'er went forth

to wait at great men's doors, but with his sire

reaped the scant harvest of a rented glebe.

as from two sides two conflagrations sweep

dry woodlands or full copse of crackling bay,

or as, swift-leaping from the mountain-vales,

two flooded, foaming rivers seaward roar,

each on its path of death, not less uproused,

speed Turnus and Aeneas o'er the field;

now storms their martial rage; now fiercely swells

either indomitable heart; and now

each hero's full strength to the slaughter moves.

Behold Murranus, boasting his high birth

from far-descended sires of storied name,

the line of Latium's kings! Aeneas now

with mountain-boulder lays him low in dust,

smitten with whirlwind of the monster stone;

and o'er him fallen under yoke and rein

roll his own chariot wheels, while with swift tread

the mad hoofs of his horses stamp him down,

not knowing him their lord. But Turnus found

proud Hyllus fronting him with frantic rage,

and at his golden helmet launched the shaft

that pierced it; in his cloven brain it clung.

Nor could thy sword, O Cretheus, save thee then

from Turnus, though of bravest Greeks the peer;

nor did Cupencus' gods their priest defend

against Aeneas, but his breast he gave

unto the hostile blade; his brazen shield

delayed no whit his miserable doom.

Thee also, Aeolus, Laurentum saw

spread thy huge body dying on the ground;

yea, dying, thou whom Greeks in serried arms

subdued not, nor Achilles' hand that hurled

the throne of Priam down: here didst thou touch

thy goal of death; one stately house was thine

on Ida's mountain, at Lyrnessus, one;

Laurentum's hallowed earth was but thy grave.

Now the whole host contends; all Latium meets

all Ilium; Mnestheus and Serestus bold;

Messapus, the steed-breaker, and high-soured

Asilas; Tuscans in a phalanx proud;

Arcadian riders of Evander's train:

each warrior lifts him to his height supreme

of might and skill; no sloth nor lingering now,

but in one far-spread conflict all contend.

His goddess-mother in Aeneas' mind

now stirred the purpose to make sudden way