No less Æneas picks his way amid the winding road,
Tracking the man, and through the rout cries ever high and loud;
But e'en as oftentimes as he his foeman caught with eye,
And 'gainst the flight of wingèd steeds his running feet would try,
So oft the speedy wain of war Jaturna turned aside.
Ah, what to do? In vain he went, borne on a shifting tide,
While diverse cares to clashing ways the soul within him drave.
But lo, Messapus, speedy-light, who chanced in hand to have
Two light and limber shafts of tree, each with its iron head,
Now whirling one, a shot well aimed unto the hero sped:490
Ænesis stayed, and gathered him behind his shielding-gear,
And sank upon his knee; no less the eager-driven spear
Smote on his helm, and shore away the topmost of his crest
Then verily his wrath arose; by all that guile oppressed,
When he beheld the steeds and car far from his battle borne,
He bade Jove witness, and the hearths of troth-plight wronged and torn:
He breaks at last amidst of them with Mars to help him on,
And fearful speedeth work of death wherein he spareth none,
And casteth every rein aside that held his anger in.
What God shall tell me all the woe, what God the song shall win500
Of shifting death and Dukes undone, and all those many dead,
By Turnus and by him of Troy about the fight-field spread?
O Jupiter, was this thy will, that nations doomed to live
In peace hereafter, on that day in such a broil should strive?
Rutulian Sucro was the first that Trojan onset stayed;
Æneas met him, and forsooth no long delay he made,
But smote his side, and through his ribs and fencing of the breast
Drave on his bitter naked sword where way was easiest.
Turnus afoot met Amycus, cast down from off his horse,
His brother, swift Diores, too: the first amidst his course510
The long spear smote, the sword the last; the heads of both the twain
He hangeth up and beareth on shedding a bloody rain.
Talon and Tanais therewith, Cethegus stout to do,
All three at once the Trojan sped, and sad Onytes slew,
Whom to the name of Echion Peridia's womb did yield.
Then Turnus slew the brethren sent from Phœbus' Lycian field:
Menates, too, of Arcady, who loathed the war in vain;
By fruitful fishy Lerna's flood was once his life and gain,
And unrich house, and nought he knew of mighty men's abode,
And hired for a price of men the earth his father sowed.520
As when two fires, that on a while are sped from diverse ways,
Run through the dry and tinder wood, and crackling twigs of bays;
As when from off the mountain-tops two hurrying rivers speed,
And foaming, roaring, as they rush, drive down to ocean's mead,
And each one wastes his proper road; no slothfuller than these,
Æneas, Turnus, fare afield; swell up the anger-seas
In both their hearts; torn are their breasts that know not how to yield,
In speeding of the wounding-craft their utter might they wield.
Murranus, as his sires of sires and ancient name he sings,
And boasts his blood come far adown the line of Latin kings,530
Æneas, with a mighty rock and whirlwind of a stone,
O'erthrows, and stretches on the earth; the wain-wheels roll him on,
Amid the bridle and the yoke, whom there upon the sward
The hurrying hoofs of horses pound, remembering not their lord.
Then Hyllus' onset, and his heart with fury all aglow,
Doth Turnus meet; who hurls a shaft against his golden brow,
And through the helm the war-spear flies, and in the brain is stayed.
Thee, Cretheus, bravest of the Greeks, thine hands did nothing aid
To snatch from Turnus.
Nought his Gods did their Cupencus cloak
Against Æneas' rush of war; breast-on he met the stroke,540
And nought availed that hapless one the tarrying golden shield.
Thee also, warring Æolus, did that Laurentine field
See fallen, and cumbering the earth with body laid alow;
Thou diest, whom the Argive hosts might never overthrow,
Nor that Achilles' hand that wrought the Priam's realm its wrack.
Here was thy meted mortal doom; high house 'neath Ida's back,
High house within Lyrnessus' garth, grave in Laurentine lea.
Now all the hosts to fight are turned, and blent in battle's sea,
All Latin folk, all Dardan sons, Mnestheus, Serestus keen,
Messapus tamer of the horse, Asylas fame-beseen,550
The Tuscan host, Evander's men, the Arcadian wings of fight,
Each for himself the warriors play, and strive with utter might;
No tarrying, no rest, they strain in contest measureless.