Then did Tarchon the Tuscan rebuke his horsemen, calling each by his name, and saying, “What fear, what baseness, is this, ye Tuscans? Shall a woman drive you before her? Ready enough are ye for the dance, and the feast, and the sacrifice; but ye lag behind in war.” And he drave his horse at Venulus of Tibur, and caught him in his arms, and carried him away. As an eagle carries a snake which he hath caught, and the snake, winding his coils about the bird, struggles and hisses, so did Tarchon carry him off, and spy out a place where he might smite him, and Venulus strove amain to keep the sword from his throat. And all the men of Troy and the Tuscans charged again when they saw their chief do so valiantly.
But all the while Arruns watched the virgin Camilla, that he might take her unawares. Now there was a certain Chloreus, priest of Cybelé, who rode through the battle, very splendid to behold. For his horse was clad in bronze mail, that was clasped with gold; and he himself was clad in purple from beyond the seas; his bow was of Lycia and his arrows of Crete; of gold was his bow, and of gold the helmet; and his saffron scarf was clasped with gold; and his tunic was embroidered with needlework, and his trews were of divers colours. Him alone the virgin followed, blind to all beside, with a woman’s love of beautiful spoil. And Arruns watched her from the ambush where he lay; and when the time was come, he cried, “Apollo, lord of Soracte, help me now; if ever I and my people have passed over the burning coals in thy honour, help me now. I seek not spoil nor glory; let me return without honour to my country, so but I slay this fury.” And part of his prayer the god heard, and part was scattered by the winds. Camilla, indeed, he slew, but to his country he went not back. But when the bow twanged, all the Volscians turned their eyes to the queen; but she was not aware of the arrow, even till it smote her under her breast. Then her companions ran together and caught her as she fell. And she would have drawn forth the arrow, but it was deep in her side. Then did her eyes swim cold in death, and the colour, that was as the colour of a rose, faded from her cheek. And as she died, she said to Acca, who was dearest to her of all her companions, “Acca, my sister, my strength faileth me. Bid Turnus that he join the battle, and keep the men of Troy from the city.” And she loosed hold of the reins, and fell to the earth; and the battle grew fiercer as she lay.
THE DEATH OF CAMILLA.
But when the nymph Opis saw that she was dead, she groaned, and cried, “O Virgin, thou hast paid the penalty of thy deed, in that thou defiedst the men of Troy. Neither hath it profited thee to be the servant of Diana. Yet will she not have thee unhonoured in thy death; for whosoever hath harmed thee shall surely die.” Then she flew through the air, and lighted on a mound that was the tomb of Laurens, that had once been king of the land. And when she saw Arruns boasting of his deed—for at first he had fled stricken with fear, but had now taken heart again—she cried, “Come hither, that thou mayest suffer thy doom, in that thou hast slain the virgin Camilla.” And she drew the bow till the ends thereof came close together, and her left hand was on the arrowhead and her right hand on the string. And even as Arruns heard the clang of the bow the arrow smote him that he died.
But when Camilla was dead her companions fled, and the Rutulians also, and the chiefs were scattered and the battalions left desolate. And there rose a great cloud of dust that rolled ever nearer the city; and a dreadful shout went up to heaven. Then those that first came to the gates were trodden down by the crowd behind them, that they died, yea, even in the sight of their homes. And those that were within shut the gates and drave back with arms such as would have entered. And then was slaughter and confusion without end. And even the women upon the walls cast javelins with their hands, and thrust with stakes of wood that had been charred with fire, even as with spears.
But now there came ill tidings to Turnus as he lay in ambush in the wood, even that Camilla was dead, and that the enemy had the mastery. Wherefore he rose up from his place, and came out upon the plain; and even as he rose up, Æneas had won his way through the wood and overpassed the ridge. Then did they both haste towards the walls. And Æneas saw Turnus, and knew him, and Turnus also saw Æneas; but the darkness hindered them that they should not fight together that day.