Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- Some leaped to horse or chariot and rode
- with naked swords in air. Messapus, wild
- to break the truce, assailed the Tuscan King,
- Aulestes, dressed in kingly blazon fair,
- with fearful shock of steeds; the Tuscan dropped
- helplessly backward, striking as he fell
- his head and shoulders on the altar-stone
- that lay behind him. But Messapus flew,
- infuriate, a javelin in his hand,
- and, towering o'er the suppliant, smote him strong
- with the great beam-like spear, and loudly cried:
- “Down with him! Ah! no common victim he
- to give the mighty gods!” Italia's men
- despoiled the dead man ere his limbs were cold.
- Then Corynaeus snatched a burning brand
- out of the altar, and as Ebysus
- came toward him for to strike, he hurled the flame
- full in his face: the big beard quickly blazed
- with smell of singeing; while the warrior bold
- strode over him, and seized with firm left hand
- his quailing foe's Iong hair; then with one knee
- he pushed and strained, compelled him to the `ground—
- and struck straight at his heart with naked steel.
- The shepherd Alsus in the foremost line
- came leaping through the spears; when o'er him towered
- huge Podalirius with a flashing sword
- in close pursuit; the mighty battle-axe
- clove him with swinging stroke from brow to chin,
- and spilt along his mail the streaming gore:
- so stern repose and iron slumber fell
- upon that shepherd's eyes, and sealed their gaze
- in endless night. But good Aeneas now
- stretched forth his unarmed hand, and all unhelmed
- thus Ioudly to his people called: “What means
- this frantic stir, this quarrel rashly bold?
- Recall your martial rage! The pledge is given
- and all its terms agreed. 'T is only I
- do lawful battle here. So let me forth,
- and tremble not. My own hand shall confirm
- the solemn treaty. For these rites consign
- Turnus to none but me.” Yet while he spoke,
- behold, a winged arrow, hissing loud,
- the hero pierced; but what bold hand impelled
- its whirling speed, none knew; nor if it were
- chance or some power divine that brought this fame
- upon Rutulia; for the glorious deed
- was covered o'er with silence: none would boast
- an arrow guilty of Aeneas' wound.
- When Turnus saw Aeneas from the line
- retreating, and the captains in dismay,
- with sudden hope he burned: he called for steeds,
- for arms, and, leaping to his chariot,
- rode insolently forth, the reins in hand.
- Many strong heroes he dispatched to die,
- as on he flew, and many stretched half-dead,
- or from his chariot striking, or from far
- raining his javelins on the recreant foe.
- As Mars, forth-speeding by the wintry stream
- of Hebrus, smites his sanguinary shield
- and whips the swift steeds to the front of war,
- who, flying past the winds of eve and morn,
- scour the wide champaign; the bounds of Thrace
- beneath their hoof-beats thunder; the dark shapes
- of Terror, Wrath, and Treachery move on
- in escort of the god: in such grim guise
- bold Turnus lashed into the fiercest fray
- his streaming steeds, that pitiful to see
- trod down the slaughtered foe; each flying hoof
- scattered a bloody dew; their path was laid
- in mingled blood and sand. To death he flung
- Pholus and Sthenelus and Thamyris:
- two smitten in close fight and one from far:
- also from far he smote with fatal spear
- Glaucus and Lades, the Imbrasidae,
- whom Imbrasus himself in Lycia bred,
- and honored them with arms of equal skill
- when grappling with a foe, or o'er the field
- speeding a war-horse faster than the wind.