Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- Now to the Latins Mars, the lord of war,
- gave might and valor, and to their wild hearts
- his spur applied, but on the Teucrians breathed
- dark fear and flight. From every quarter came
- auxiliar hosts, where'er the conflict called,
- and in each bosom pulsed the god of war.
- When Pandarus now saw his brother's corse
- low Iying, and which way the chance and tide
- of battle ran, he violently moved
- the swinging hinges of the gate, and strained
- with both his shoulders broad. He shut outside
- not few of his own people, left exposed
- in fiercest fight but others with himself
- he barred inside and saved them as they fled;
- nor noted, madman, how the Rutule King
- had burst in midmost of the line, and now
- stood prisoned in their wall, as if he were
- some monstrous tiger among helpless kine.
- His eyeballs strangely glared; his armor rang
- terrific, his tall crest shook o'er his brows
- blood-red, and lightnings glittered from his shield
- familiar loomed that countenance abhorred
- and frame gigantic on the shrinking eyes
- of the Aeneadae. Then Pandarus
- sprang towering forth, all fever to revenge
- his brother's slaughter. “Not this way,” he cried
- “Amata's marriage-gift! No Ardea here
- mews Turnus in his fathers' halls. Behold
- thy foeman's castle! Thou art not allowed
- to take thy leave.” But Turnus looked his way,
- and smiled with heart unmoved. “Begin! if thou
- hast manhood in thee, and meet steel with steel!
- Go tell dead Priam thou discoverest here
- Achilles!” For reply, the champion tall
- hurled with his might and main along the air
- his spear of knotted wood and bark untrimmed.
- But all it wounded was the passing wind,
- for Saturn's daughter turned its course awry,
- and deep in the great gate the spear-point drove.
- “Now from the stroke this right arm means for thee
- thou shalt not fly. Not such the sender of
- this weapon and this wound.” He said, and towered
- aloft to his full height; the lifted sword
- clove temples, brows, and beardless cheeks clean through
- with loudly ringing blow; the ground beneath
- shook with the giant's ponderous fall, and, lo,
- with nerveless limbs, and brains spilt o'er his shield,
- dead on the earth he lay! in equal halves
- the sundered head from either shoulder swung.