Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- When Turnus marks how much the Latins quail
- in adverse war, how on himself they call
- to keep his pledge, and with indignant eyes
- gaze all his way, fierce rage implacable
- swells his high heart. As when on Libyan plain
- a lion, gashed along his tawny breast
- by the huntsman's grievous thrust, awakens him
- unto his last grim fight, and gloriously
- shaking the great thews of his maned neck,
- shrinks not, but crushes the despoiler's spear
- with blood-sprent, roaring mouth,—not less than so
- burns the wild soul of Turnus and his ire.
- Thus to the King he spoke with stormful brow:
- “The war lags not for Turnus' sake. No cause
- constrains the Teucrian cowards and their King
- to eat their words and what they pledged refuse.
- On his own terms I come. Bring forward, sire,
- the sacrifice, and seal the pact I swear:
- either to deepest hell this hand shall fling
- yon Trojan runaway—the Latins all
- may sit at ease and see!—and my sole sword
- efface the general shame; or let him claim
- the conquest, and Lavinia be his bride.”