Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- The warrior-maid Juturna, seeing this,
- distraught with terror, strikes down from his place
- Metiscus, Turnus' charioteer, who dropped
- forward among the reins and off the pole.
- Him leaving on the field, her own hand grasped
- the loosely waving reins, while she took on
- Metiscus' shape, his voice, and blazoned arms.
- As when through some rich master's spacious halls
- speeds the black swallow on her lightsome wing,
- exploring the high roof, or harvesting
- some scanty morsel for her twittering brood,
- round empty corridors or garden-pools
- noisily flitting: so Juturna roams
- among the hostile ranks, and wings her way
- behind the swift steeds of the whirling car.
- At divers points she lets the people see
- 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.