Aeneid

escaping danger, the two champions ran.

But horsemen from the Latin city sent

to join the serried legions of the plain

had come at Turnus' call, three hundred strong

all bearing shields, and under the command

of Volscens. Nigh the camp and walls they drew;

and soon they spied upon the leftward path

th' heroic pair, where in dim shades of night

the helmet of Euryalus betrayed

the heedless boy, and with a glancing beam

flashed on the foe. Nor was it seen in vain.

Loud from the line the voice of Volscens called:

“Stand, gentlemen! What business brings you here?

Whose your allegiance? Whither speed so fast?”

No answer gave they save to fly in haste

to cover of the forest and deep gloom

of the defensive night. The horsemen then

blocked every crossway known, and, scattering wide,

kept sentry at the entrance. The great wood

was all of tangled brush and blinding shade

of flex-boughs. Impenetrable thorns

had thickly overgrown, and seldom showed

a pathway through the maze. Euryalus,

by the black branches and his ponderous spoil

impeded, groped along in fearful doubt,

deceived and quite astray. Nisus his friend

had quit him, and incautiously had forced

a sally through the close-encircling foe,

into that region which should after bear

the name of Alba—a rude shelter then

for King Latinus' herds. He stayed him there

and looked, but vainly, for the comrade gone.

“Euryalus, ill-fated boy!” he cried,

“Where have I lost thee in the pathless wild?

How find thee? How retrace the blinding maze

of yonder treacherous wood?” Yet ere he said,

on his own path he turns him back, and scans

his own light footprints through the tangled thorn,

so dark and still. But suddenly he hears

the tread of horses, with confusing din

and tumult of pursuit. Nor was it long

he tarried ere upon his anguished ear

smote a great cry: and, lo! Euryalus,

trapped by the dark night, the deceptive ground,

faced the whole onset, and fell back o'erwhelmed

by a loud mob of foes, while his sole sword

tried many a thrust in vain. O, what defence

may Nisus bring? With what audacious arms

his chosen comrade save? Shall he make bare

his dying breast to all their swords, and run

to honorable death that bloody way?

he swung his spear with lifted arm, then looked

to the still moon, in heaven, and thus implored:

“O goddess, aid me in my evil case.

O glory of the stars, Latona's child!

O guardian of groves, if in my name

my father Hyrtacus made offerings

on burning altars, if my own right hand,

successful in the chase, ere hung its gift

beneath thy dome or on thy sacred wall,

grant me yon troop to scatter. Guide my spear

along its path in air.” He spoke, and hurled

with all his gathered strength the shaft of steel.

the swift spear clove the shades of night, and struck

full in the back of Sulmo, where it split,

but tore through to his very heart. The breast

poured forth life's glowing stream, and he, o'erthrown

lay cold in death, while his huge, heaving sides

gave lingering throes. The men about him stared

this way and that. But Nisus, fiercer still,

poised level with his ear a second shaft,

and, while the foeman paused, the whizzing spear

straight through the brows of Tagus drove, and clung

deep in the cloven brain. In frenzy rose

Volscens, but nowhere could espy what hand

the shaft had hurled, nor whither his wild rage

could make reply. “But thou,” he cried, “shalt feed

with thy hot blood my honor and revenge

for both the slain.” Then with a sword unsheathed

upon Euryalus he fell. Loud shrieked

Nisus, of reason reft, who could not bear

such horror, nor in sheltering gloom of night

longer abide: “'T is I, 't is I!” he said.

look on the man who slew them! Draw on me

your swords, Rutulians! The whole stratagem

was mine, mine only, and the lad ye slay

dared not, and could not. O, by Heaven above

and by the all-beholding stars I swear,

he did but love his hapless friend too well.”

But while he spoke, the furious-thrusting sword

had pierced the tender body, and run through

the bosom white as snow. Euryalus

sank prone in death; upon his goodly limbs

the life-blood ran unstopped, and low inclined

the drooping head; as when some purpled flower,

cut by the ploughshare, dies, or poppies proud

with stem forlorn their ruined beauty bow

before the pelting storm. Then Nisus flew

straight at his foes; but in their throng would find

Volscens alone, for none but Volscens stayed: