Aeneid

offending nations with the scourge of war.

'T was one of these which Jove sent speeding down

from his ethereal seat, and bade her cross

the pathway of Juturna for a sign.

Her wings she spread, and earthward seemed to ride

upon a whirling storm. As when some shaft,

with Parthian poison tipped or Cretan gall,

a barb of death, shoots cloudward from the bow,

and hissing through the dark hastes forth unseen:

so earthward flew that daughter of the night.

Soon as she spied the Teucrians in array

and Turnus' lines, she shrivelled to the shape

of that small bird which on lone tombs and towers

sits perching through the midnight, and prolongs

in shadow and deep gloom her troubling cry.

In such disguise the Fury, screaming shrill,

flitted in Turnus' face, and with her wings

smote on his hollow shield. A strange affright

palsied his every limb; each several hair

lifted with horror, and his gasping voice

died on his lips. But when Juturna knew

from far the shrieking fiend's infernal wing,

she loosed her tresses, and their beauty tore,

to tell a sister's woe; with clenching hands

she marred her cheeks and beat her naked breast.

“What remedy or help, my Turnus, now

is in a sister's power? What way remains

for stubborn me? Or with what further guile

thy life prolong? What can my strength oppose

to this foul thing? I quit the strife at last.

Withdraw thy terror from my fearful eyes,

thou bird accurst! The tumult of thy wings

I know full well, and thy death-boding call.

The harsh decrees of that large-minded Jove

I plainly see. Is this the price he pays

for my lost maidenhood? Why flatter me

with immortality, and snatch away

my property of death? What boon it were

to end this grief this hour, and hie away

to be my brother's helpmeet in his grave!

I, an immortal? O, what dear delight

is mine, sweet brother, living without thee?

O, where will earth yawn deep enough and wide

to hide a goddess with the ghosts below?”

She spoke; and veiled in glistening mantle gray

her mournful brow; then in her stream divine

the nymph sank sighing to its utmost cave.

Aeneas now is near; and waving wide

a spear like some tall tree, he called aloud

with unrelenting heart: “What stays thee now?

Or wherefore, Turnus, backward fly? Our work

is not a foot-race, but the wrathful strife

of man with man. Aye, hasten to put on

tricks and disguises; gather all thou hast

of skill or courage; wish thou wert a bird

to fly to starry heaven, or hide thy head

safe in the hollow ground!” The other then

shook his head, saying: “It is not thy words,

not thy hot words, affright me, savage man!

Only the gods I fear, and hostile Jove.”

Silent he stood, and glancing round him saw

a huge rock Iying by, huge rock and old,

a landmark justly sundering field from field,

which scarce six strong men's shoulders might upraise,

such men as mother-Earth brings forth to-day:

this grasped he with impetuous hand and hurled,

stretched at full height and roused to all his speed,

against his foe. Yet scarcely could he feel

it was himself that ran, himself that moved

with lifted hand to fling the monster stone;

for his knees trembled, and his languid blood

ran shuddering cold; nor could the stone he threw,

tumbling in empty air, attain its goal

nor strike the destined blow. But as in dreams,

when helpless slumber binds the darkened eyes,

we seem with fond desire to tread in vain

along a lengthening road, yet faint and fall

when straining to the utmost, and the tongue

is palsied, and the body's wonted power

obeys not, and we have no speech or cry:

so unto Turnus, whatsoever way

his valiant spirit moved, the direful Fiend

stopped in the act his will. Swift-changing thoughts

rush o'er his soul; on the Rutulian host,

then at the town he glares, shrinks back in fear,

and trembles at th' impending lance; nor sees

what path to fly, what way confront the foe:—

no chariot now, nor sister-charioteer!

Above his faltering terror gleams in air

Aeneas' fatal spear; whose eye perceived

the moment of success, and all whose strength

struck forth: the vast and ponderous rock outflung

from engines which make breach in sieged walls

not louder roars nor breaks in thunder-sound

more terrible; like some black whirlwind flew

the death-delivering spear, and, rending wide

the corselet's edges and the heavy rim

of the last circles of the seven-fold shield,

pierced, hissing, through the thigh. Huge Turnus sinks

o'erwhelmed upon the ground with doubling knee.