But unto those Rutulian men unequal this long while
The fight had seemed, and in their hearts the mingled trouble rose;
And all the more, as nigher now they note the ill-matched foes,
This helpeth Turnus' silent step, and suppliant worshipping
About the altars, and his eyes that unto earth do cling,220
His faded cheeks, his youthful frame that wonted colour lacks.
Wherefore Jaturna, when she hears the talk of people wax,
And how the wavering hearts of men in diverse manner sway,
Like unto Camers wendeth now amidst of that array;
—A mighty man, from mighty blood, his father well renowned
For valorous worth, and he himself keen in the battle found.
So through the mid array she speeds, well knowing what is toward,
And soweth rumour on the wind and speaketh such a word:
"O shame ye not, Rutulian men, to offer up one soul
For all your warriors? lack we aught in might or muster-roll230
To match them? Here is all they have—Trojans, Arcadian peers,
And that Etruscan Turnus' bane, the fateful band of spears:
Why, if we meet, each second man shall scantly find a foe.
And now their king, upborne by fame, unto the Gods shall go,
Upon whose shrines he vows himself; his name shall live in tale.
But we shall lose our fatherland and 'neath proud lords shall fail,
E'en those that sit there heavy-slow upon our fields today."
So with such words she lit the hearts of all that young array;
Yet more and more a murmur creeps about the ranks of men;
Changed even are Laurentine folk; changed are the Latins then;240
They who had hoped that rest from fight and peaceful days were won,
Are now but fain of battle-gear, and wish the troth undone,
For ruth that such a cruel fate on Turnus' head should fall.
But unto these a greater thing Jaturna adds withal,
A sign from heaven; and nought so much stirred Italy that day,
As this whose prodigy beguiled men's hearts to go astray:
For now the yellow bird of Jove amid the ruddy light
Was chasing of the river-fowl, and drave in hurried flight
The noisy throng; when suddenly down to the waves he ran,
And caught in greedy hookèd claws a goodly-bodied swan:250
Uprose the hearts of Italy, for all the fowl cry out,
And, wonderful for eyes to see, from fleeing turn about,
Darken the air with cloud of wings, and fall upon the foe;
Till he, oppressed by might of them and by his prey held low,
Gives way, and casts the quarry down from out his hookéd claws
Into the river, and aback to inner cloud-land draws.
Then to the sign the Rutuli shout greeting with one breath,
And spread their hands abroad; but first the seer Tolumnius saith:
"This, this is that, which still my prayers sought oft and o'er again.
I take the sign, I know the God! to arms with me, O men!260
Poor people, whom the stranger-thief hath terrified with war.
E'en like these feeble fowl; who wastes the acres of your shore,
Yet shall he fly, and give his sails unto the outer sea:
But ye, your ranks with heart and mind now serry manfully,
And ward your ravished King and Duke with all your battle-world!"
He spake, and, running forth, a shaft against the foe he hurled.
Forth whizzed the cornel through the air, cleaving its way aright,
And therewithal great noise outbreaks, and every wedge of fight
Is turmoiled, and the hearts of men are kindled for the fray.
On sped the shaft to where there stood across its baneful way270
Nine fair-shaped brethren, whom whilom one faithful Tuscan wife
Amid Gylippus' Arcad house brought forth to light and life:
Now one of these, e'en where the belt of knitted stitches wrought
Chafed on the belly, and the clasp the joining edges caught,
A youth most excellent of frame and clad in glittering gear—
It pierced his ribs; on yellow sand it stretched him dying there.
Thereat his brethren, a fierce folk, with grief and rage alight,
Some draw their swords and some catch up the steel of speedy flight,
And rush on blind: Laurentum's ranks, against them swift they go,
And thick the Trojans from their side the meadows overflow,280
Agyllans and Arcadian men with painted war array;
And one lust winneth over all with point and edge to play.
They strip the altars; drifting storm of weapon-shot doth gain
O'er all the heavens, and ever grows the iron battle-rain.
The bowls and hearths they bear away: Latinus gets him gone,
Bearing aback the beaten Gods and troth-plight all undone,
But other men rein in the car and leap upon the steed,
And there with naked swords they sit, all ready for the need.
Messapus, fain to rend the troth, on hostile horse down-bears
Upon Aulestes, Tuscan king, who kingly raiment wears:290
He fled, but as abackward there away from him he went,
Came on the altars at his back in hapless tanglement
Of head and shoulders: thitherward doth hot Messapus fly
With spear in hand, and from his steed he smites him heavily
With the great beam amid his prayers, and word withal doth say:
"He hath it, and the Gods have got a better host today!"
Therewith to strip his body warm up runs the Italian band;
But Corynæus from the hearth catches a half-burnt brand,
And e'en as Ebusus comes up, and stroke in hand doth bear,
He filleth all his face with flame; out doth his great beard flare,300
And sendeth stink of burning forth: the Trojan followed on
The wildered man, and with his left grip of his tresses won,
And, straining hard with weight of knee, to earth he pinned his foe,
And drave the stark sword through his side.
See Podalirius go,
Chasing the shepherd Alsus through the front of weapon-wrack;
O'er him he hangs with naked sword; but he, with bill swung back,
Cleaveth the foeman facing him through midmost brow and chin,
And all about his battle-gear the bloody rain doth win:
Then iron slumber fell on him, hard rest weighed down his eyes,
And shut were they for evermore in night that never dies.310
Then good Æneas stretched forth hands all empty of the sword,
And called bare-headed on his folk, with eager shouted word:
"Where rush ye on, and whither now doth creeping discord rise?
Refrain your wrath; the troth is struck; its laws in equal wise
Are doomed; and 'tis for me alone the battle to endure.
Nay, let me be! cast fear away; my hand shall make it sure.
This troth-plight, all these holy things, owe Turnus to my sword."
But while his voice was sounding, lo, amidmost of his word,
A whistling speedy-wingèd shaft unto the hero won;
Unknown what hand hath sped it forth, what whirlwind bore it on;320
What God, what hap, such glory gave to hands of Rutuli;
Beneath the weight of things unknown dead doth the honour lie,
Nor boasted any of the hurt Æneas had that day.
But Turnus, when he saw the King give back from that array,
And all the turmoil of the Dukes, with hope his heart grew fain;
He cried for horse and arms, and leapt aloft to battle-wain,
And high of heart set on apace, the bridle in his hand;
And many a brave man there he gave unto the deadly land,
And rolled o'er wounded men in heaps, and high in car wore down
The ranks of men; and fleers' spears from out his hand were thrown:
E'en as when litten up to war by Hebrus' chilly flood331
Red Mavors beateth on his shield, and rouseth fightful mood
Amid the fury of his steeds, who o'er the level lea
In uttermost hoof-smitten Thrace the south and west outflee.
And lo, the fellows of the God, the black Fear's bitter face,
The Rage of men, the Guile of War anigh him wend apace:
E'en so amid the battle-field his horses Turnus sped,
Reeking with sweat: there tramples he the woeful heaps of dead,
The hurrying hoofs go scattering wide a drift of bloody rain;
The gore, all blent with sandy dust, is pounded o'er the plain.340
To death he casteth Sthenelus, Pholus, and Thamyris;
Those twain anigh, but him afar; from far the bane he is
Of Glaucus and of Lades, sons of Imbrasus, whom he
In Lycia bred a while agone, and armed them equally
To fight anigh, or on their steeds the winds to overrun.