ARGUMENT.
IN THE MEANTIME THAT ÆNEAS IS AWAY, TURNUS AND THE LATINS BESET THE TROJAN ENCAMPMENT, AND MISS BUT A LITTLE OF BRINGING ALL THINGS TO RUIN.
Now while a long way off therefrom do these and those such deed,
Saturnian Juno Iris sends from heaven aloft to speed
To Turnus of the hardy heart, abiding, as doth hap,
Within his sire Pilumnus' grove in shady valley's lap;
Whom Thaumas' child from rosy mouth in suchwise doth bespeak:
"Turnus, what no one of the Gods might promise, didst thou seek,
The day of Fate undriven now hath borne about for thee:
Æneas, he hath left his town, and ships, and company,
And sought the lordship Palatine and King Evander's house;
Nay more, hath reached the utmost steads, the towns of Corythus10
And host of Lydians, where he arms the gathered carles for war.
Why doubt'st thou? now is time to call for horse and battle-car.
Break tarrying off, and make thy stoop upon their camp's dismay."
She spake, and on her poisèd wings went up the heavenly way,
And in her flight with mighty bow cleft through the cloudy land.
The warrior knew her, and to heaven he cast up either hand,
And with such voice of spoken things he followed as she fled:
"O Iris, glory of the skies, and who thy ways hath sped
Amidst the clouds to earth and me? Whence this so sudden clear
Of weather? Lo, the midmost heaven I see departed shear,20
And through the zenith stray the stars: such signs I follow on,
Whoso ye be that call to war."
And therewithal he won
Unto the stream, and from its face drew forth the water fair,
Praying the Gods, and laid a load of vows upon the air.
And now the host drew out to war amid the open meads,
With wealth of painted gear and gold, and wealth of noble steeds.
Messapus leads the first array, and Tyrrheus' children ward
The latter host, and in the midst is Turnus' self the lord.
Such is the host as Ganges deep, arising mid the hush
With sevenfold rivers' solemn flow, or Nile-flood's fruitful rush,30
When he hath ebbed from off the fields and hid him in his bed.
But now the Teucrians see the cloud of black dust grow to head
From far away, and dusty-dark across the plain arise:
And first from off the mound in face aloud Caïcus cries:
"Ho! what is this that rolleth on, this misty, mirky ball?
Swords, townsmen, swords! Bring point and edge; haste up to climb the wall.
Ho, for the foeman is at hand!"
Then, with a mighty shout,
The Trojans swarm through all the gates and fill the walls about;
For so Æneas, war-lord wise, had bidden them abide
At his departing; if meantime some new hap should betide,40
They should not dare nor trust themselves to pitch the fight afield,
But hold the camp and save the town beneath the ramparts' shield.
Therefore, though shame and anger bade go forth and join the play,
They bolt and bar the gates no less and all his word obey;
And armed upon the hollow towers abide the coming foe.
But Turnus, flying forward fast, outwent the main host slow,
And with a score of chosen knights is presently at hand
Before the town: borne on he was on horse of Thracian land,
White-flecked, and helmeted was he with ruddy-crested gold.
"Who will be first with me, O youths, play with the foe to hold?50
Lo, here!" he cried; and on the air a whirling shaft he sent,
The first of fight, and borne aloft about the meadows went.
His fellows take it up with shouts, and dreadful cry on rolls
As fast they follow, wondering sore at sluggard Teucrian souls,—
That men should shun the battle pitched, nor dare the weapon-game,
But hug their walls. So round the walls, high-horsed, with heart aflame,
He rides about, and tries a way where never was a way:
E'en as a wolf the sheep-fold full besetteth on a day,
And howleth round about the garth, by wind and rain-drift beat,
About the middle of the night, while safe the lamb-folk bleat60
Beneath their mothers: wicked-fierce against them safe and near
He rageth; hunger-madness long a-gathering him doth wear,
With yearning for that blood beloved to wet his parchèd jaws.
E'en so in that Rutulian duke to flame the anger draws,
As he beholdeth walls and camp: sore burnt his hardy heart
For shifts to come at them; to shake those Teucrians shut apart
From out their walls and spread their host about the meadows wide.
So on the ships he falls, that lay the campment's fence beside,
Hedged all about with garth and mound and by the river's flood,
And to the burning crieth on his folk of joyous mood,70
And eager fills his own right hand with branch of blazing fir:
Then verily they fall to work whom Turnus' gaze doth stir,
And all the host of them in haste hand to the black torch lays.
They strip the hearths; the smoky brand sends forth pitch-laden blaze,
And starward soot-bemingled flame drave Vulcan as he burned.
Say, Muse, what God from Teucrian folk such sore destruction turned?
Who drave away from Trojan keels so mighty great a flame?
Old is the troth in such a tale, but never dies its fame.
What time Æneas first began on Phrygian Ida's steep
To frame his ships, and dight him there to ride upon the deep,80
The Berecynthian Mother-Queen spake, as the tale doth fare,
Unto the Godhead of great Jove:
"Son, grant unto my prayer
That which thy lovèd mother asks from heaven all tamed to peace:
A wood of pines I have, beloved through many years' increase.
There is a thicket on my height wherein men worship me,
Dim with the blackening of the firs and trunks of maple-tree:
These to the Dardan youth in need of ship-host grudged I nought,
But in my anxious soul as now is born a troubling thought.
Do off my dread, and let, I pray, a mother's prayers avail,
That these amid no shattering sea or whirling wind may fail;90
Let it avail them that my heights first brought them unto birth."