BOOK XII.
ARGUMENT.
HEREIN ARE ÆNEAS AND TURNUS PLEDGED TO FIGHT THE MATTER OUT IN SINGLE COMBAT; BUT THE LATINS BREAK THE PEACE AND ÆNEAS IS WOUNDED: IN THE END ÆNEAS MEETETH TURNUS INDEED, AND SLAYETH HIM.
When Turnus sees the Latin men all failing from the sword,
Broken by Mars, and that all folk bethink them of his word,
And fall to mark him with their eyes, then fell he burns indeed,
And raises up his heart aloft; e'en as in Punic mead
The smitten lion, hurt in breast by steel from hunters' ring,
Setteth the battle in array, and joyfully doth fling
The mane from off his brawny neck, and fearless of his mood
Breaks off the clinging robber-spear, and roars from mouth of blood;
E'en so o'er Turnus' fiery heart the tide of fury wins,
And thus he speaketh to the King, and hasty speech begins:10
"No hanging back in Turnus is, and no Ænean thrall
Hath aught to do to break his word or plighted troth recall:
I will go meet him: Father, bring the Gods, the peace-troth plight;
Then either I this Dardan thing will send adown to night,—
This rag of Asia,—Latin men a-looking on the play,
And all alone the people's guilt my sword shall wipe away;
Or let him take us beaten folk, and wed Lavinia then!"
But unto him from quiet soul Latinus spake again:
"Great-hearted youth, by e'en so much as thou in valorous might
Dost more excel, by so much I must counsel me aright,20
And hang all haps that may betide in those sad scales of mine.
Thine are thy father Daunus' realms, a many towns are thine,
Won by thine hand: Latinus too his gold and goodwill yields;
But other high-born maids unwed dwell in Laurentine fields
Or Latin land,—nay, suffer me to set all guile apart,
And say a hard thing—do thou take this also to thine heart:
To none of all her wooers of old my daughter may I wed;
This warning word of prophecy all men and Gods have sped.
But by thy kindred blood o'ercome, and by the love of thee,
And by my sad wife's tears, I broke all bonds and set me free.30
From son-in-law I rapt his bride, I drew a godless sword.
What mishaps and what wrack of peace have been my due reward
Thou seest, Turnus, and what grief I was the first to bear.
Twice beaten in a woeful fight, scarce is our city here
Held by the hope of Italy: still Tiber-flood rolls by,
Warm with our blood, and 'neath our bones wide meadows whitening lie.
But whither waver I so oft? what folly shifts my mind?
If I am ready, Turnus dead, peace with these men to bind,
Shall I not rather while thou liv'st cast all the war away?
What shall my kindred Rutuli, what shall Italia say,40
If I deliver thee to death, (Fate thrust the words aside!)
Thee, who hast wooed me for thy sire, my daughter for thy bride?
Look on the wavering hap of war, pity thy father's eld,
Now far from thee in sorrow sore by ancient Ardea held."
But not a whit might all these words the wrath of Turnus bend.
Nay, worser waxed he, sickening more by medicine meant to mend:
And e'en so soon as he might speak, such words were in his mouth:
"Thy trouble for my sake, best lord, e'en for my sake forsooth,
Lay down, I prithee; let me buy a little praise with death.
I too, O father, sow the spear, nor weak hand scattereth50
The iron seed, with me afield: the blood-springs know my stroke.
Nor here shall be his Goddess-dame with woman's cloud to cloak
A craven king, and hide herself in empty mirky shade."
But now the Queen, by this new chance of battle sore afraid,
Fell weeping, as her fiery son she held with dying eyes:
"O Turnus, by these tears, by what of worship for me lies
Anigh thy heart; O, only hope of this my latter tide,
Sole rest from sorrow! thou, in whom all worship doth abide,
All glory of the Latin name, our falling house-wall stay!
Set not thine hand to Teucrian war; this thing alone I pray.60
Whatever lot abideth thee, O Turnus, mid the fight,
Abideth me, and I with thee will leave the loathed light;
Nor will I, made Æneas' thrall, behold him made my son."
Lavinia heard her mother's words with burning cheeks, whereon
Lay rain of tears, for thereunto exceeding ruddy flush
Had brought the fire that now along her litten face did rush:
As when the Indian ivory they wrong with blood-red dye,
Or when mid many lilies white the ruddy roses lie,
E'en such a mingled colour showed upon the maiden's face.
Sore stirred by love upon the maid he fixed his constant gaze,70
And, all the more afire for fight, thus to Amata said:
"I prithee, mother, with these tears, such sign of coming dread,
Dog not my feet as forth I wend to Mavors' bitter play;
For Turnus is not free to thrust the hour of death away.
Go, Idmon, bear the Phrygian lord these very words of mine,
Nought for his pleasure: When the dawn tomorrow first shall shine,
And from her purple wheels aloft shall redden all the sky,
Lead not thy Teucrians to the fight: Teucrians and Rutuli
Shall let their swords be; and we twain, our blood shall quench the strife,
And we upon that field shall woo Lavinia for a wife."80