The prince then call'd Achates, to supply The spears that knew the way to victory- "Those fatal weapons, which, inur'd to blood, In Grecian bodies under Ilium stood: Not one of those my hand shall toss in vain Against our foes, on this contended plain."

He said; then seiz'd a mighty spear, and threw; Which, wing'd with fate, thro' Maeon's buckler flew, Pierc'd all the brazen plates, and reach'd his heart: He stagger'd with intolerable smart.

Alcanor saw; and reach'd, but reach'd in vain, His helping hand, his brother to sustain.

A second spear, which kept the former course, From the same hand, and sent with equal force, His right arm pierc'd, and holding on, bereft His use of both, and pinion'd down his left.

Then Numitor from his dead brother drew Th' ill-omen'd spear, and at the Trojan threw: Preventing fate directs the lance awry, Which, glancing, only mark'd Achates' thigh.

In pride of youth the Sabine Clausus came, And, from afar, at Dryops took his aim.

The spear flew hissing thro' the middle s.p.a.ce, And pierc'd his throat, directed at his face; It stopp'd at once the pa.s.sage of his wind, And the free soul to flitting air resign'd: His forehead was the first that struck the ground; Lifeblood and life rush'd mingled thro' the wound.

He slew three brothers of the Borean race, And three, whom Ismarus, their native place, Had sent to war, but all the sons of Thrace.

Halesus, next, the bold Aurunci leads: The son of Neptune to his aid succeeds, Conspicuous on his horse. On either hand, These fight to keep, and those to win, the land.

With mutual blood th' Ausonian soil is dyed, While on its borders each their claim decide.

As wintry winds, contending in the sky, With equal force of lungs their t.i.tles try: They rage, they roar; the doubtful rack of heav'n Stands without motion, and the tide undriv'n: Each bent to conquer, neither side to yield, They long suspend the fortune of the field.

Both armies thus perform what courage can; Foot set to foot, and mingled man to man.

But, in another part, th' Arcadian horse With ill success ingage the Latin force: For, where th' impetuous torrent, rushing down, Huge craggy stones and rooted trees had thrown, They left their coursers, and, unus'd to fight On foot, were scatter'd in a shameful flight.

Pallas, who with disdain and grief had view'd His foes pursuing, and his friends pursued, Us'd threat'nings mix'd with pray'rs, his last resource, With these to move their minds, with those to fire their force "Which way, companions? whether would you run?

By you yourselves, and mighty battles won, By my great sire, by his establish'd name, And early promise of my future fame; By my youth, emulous of equal right To share his honors- shun ign.o.ble flight!

Trust not your feet: your hands must hew way Thro' yon black body, and that thick array: 'T is thro' that forward path that we must come; There lies our way, and that our pa.s.sage home.

Nor pow'rs above, nor destinies below Oppress our arms: with equal strength we go, With mortal hands to meet a mortal foe.

See on what foot we stand: a scanty sh.o.r.e, The sea behind, our enemies before; No pa.s.sage left, unless we swim the main; Or, forcing these, the Trojan trenches gain."

This said, he strode with eager haste along, And bore amidst the thickest of the throng.

Lagus, the first he met, with fate to foe, Had heav'd a stone of mighty weight, to throw: Stooping, the spear descended on his chine, Just where the bone distinguished either loin: It stuck so fast, so deeply buried lay, That scarce the victor forc'd the steel away.

Hisbon came on: but, while he mov'd too slow To wish'd revenge, the prince prevents his blow; For, warding his at once, at once he press'd, And plung'd the fatal weapon in his breast.

Then lewd Anchemolus he laid in dust, Who stain'd his stepdam's bed with impious l.u.s.t.

And, after him, the Daucian twins were slain, Laris and Thymbrus, on the Latian plain; So wondrous like in feature, shape, and size, As caus'd an error in their parents' eyes- Grateful mistake! but soon the sword decides The nice distinction, and their fate divides: For Thymbrus' head was lopp'd; and Laris' hand, Dismember'd, sought its owner on the strand: The trembling fingers yet the fauchion strain, And threaten still th' intended stroke in vain.

Now, to renew the charge, th' Arcadians came: Sight of such acts, and sense of honest shame, And grief, with anger mix'd, their minds inflame.

Then, with a casual blow was Rhoeteus slain, Who chanc'd, as Pallas threw, to cross the plain: The flying spear was after Ilus sent; But Rhoeteus happen'd on a death unmeant: From Teuthras and from Tyres while he fled, The lance, athwart his body, laid him dead: Roll'd from his chariot with a mortal wound, And intercepted fate, he spurn'd the ground.

As when, in summer, welcome winds arise, The watchful shepherd to the forest flies, And fires the midmost plants; contagion spreads, And catching flames infect the neighb'ring heads; Around the forest flies the furious blast, And all the leafy nation sinks at last, And Vulcan rides in triumph o'er the waste; The pastor, pleas'd with his dire victory, Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the sky: So Pallas' troops their scatter'd strength unite, And, pouring on their foes, their prince delight.

Halesus came, fierce with desire of blood; But first collected in his arms he stood: Advancing then, he plied the spear so well, Ladon, Demodocus, and Pheres fell.

Around his head he toss'd his glitt'ring brand, And from Strymonius hew'd his better hand, Held up to guard his throat; then hurl'd a stone At Thoas' ample front, and pierc'd the bone: It struck beneath the s.p.a.ce of either eye; And blood, and mingled brains, together fly.

Deep skill'd in future fates, Halesus' sire Did with the youth to lonely groves retire: But, when the father's mortal race was run, Dire destiny laid hold upon the son, And haul'd him to the war, to find, beneath Th' Evandrian spear, a memorable death.

Pallas th' encounter seeks, but, ere he throws, To Tuscan Tiber thus address'd his vows: "O sacred stream, direct my flying dart, And give to pa.s.s the proud Halesus' heart!

His arms and spoils thy holy oak shall bear."

Pleas'd with the bribe, the G.o.d receiv'd his pray'r: For, while his shield protects a friend distress'd, The dart came driving on, and pierc'd his breast.

But Lausus, no small portion of the war, Permits not panic fear to reign too far, Caus'd by the death of so renown'd a knight; But by his own example cheers the fight.

Fierce Abas first he slew; Abas, the stay Of Trojan hopes, and hindrance of the day.

The Phrygian troops escap'd the Greeks in vain: They, and their mix'd allies, now load the plain.

To the rude shock of war both armies came; Their leaders equal, and their strength the same.

The rear so press'd the front, they could not wield Their angry weapons, to dispute the field.

Here Pallas urges on, and Lausus there: Of equal youth and beauty both appear, But both by fate forbid to breathe their native air.

Their congress in the field great Jove withstands: Both doom'd to fall, but fall by greater hands.

Meantime Juturna warns the Daunian chief Of Lausus' danger, urging swift relief.

With his driv'n chariot he divides the crowd, And, making to his friends, thus calls aloud: "Let none presume his needless aid to join; Retire, and clear the field; the fight is mine: To this right hand is Pallas only due; O were his father here, my just revenge to view!"

From the forbidden s.p.a.ce his men retir'd.

Pallas their awe, and his stern words, admir'd; Survey'd him o'er and o'er with wond'ring sight, Struck with his haughty mien, and tow'ring height.

Then to the king: "Your empty vaunts forbear; Success I hope, and fate I cannot fear; Alive or dead, I shall deserve a name; Jove is impartial, and to both the same."

He said, and to the void advanc'd his pace: Pale horror sate on each Arcadian face.

Then Turnus, from his chariot leaping light, Address'd himself on foot to single fight.

And, as a lion- when he spies from far A bull that seems to meditate the war, Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand- Runs roaring downward from his hilly stand: Imagine eager Turnus not more slow, To rush from high on his unequal foe.

Young Pallas, when he saw the chief advance Within due distance of his flying lance, Prepares to charge him first, resolv'd to try If fortune would his want of force supply; And thus to Heav'n and Hercules address'd: "Alcides, once on earth Evander's guest, His son adjures you by those holy rites, That hospitable board, those genial nights; a.s.sist my great attempt to gain this prize, And let proud Turnus view, with dying eyes, His ravish'd spoils." 'T was heard, the vain request; Alcides mourn'd, and stifled sighs within his breast.

Then Jove, to soothe his sorrow, thus began: "Short bounds of life are set to mortal man.

'T is virtue's work alone to stretch the narrow span.

So many sons of G.o.ds, in b.l.o.o.d.y fight, Around the walls of Troy, have lost the light: My own Sarpedon fell beneath his foe; Nor I, his mighty sire, could ward the blow.

Ev'n Turnus shortly shall resign his breath, And stands already on the verge of death."

This said, the G.o.d permits the fatal fight, But from the Latian fields averts his sight.

Now with full force his spear young Pallas threw, And, having thrown, his shining fauchion drew The steel just graz'd along the shoulder joint, And mark'd it slightly with the glancing point, Fierce Turnus first to nearer distance drew, And pois'd his pointed spear, before he threw: Then, as the winged weapon whizz'd along, "See now," said he, "whose arm is better strung."

The spear kept on the fatal course, unstay'd By plates of ir'n, which o'er the shield were laid: Thro' folded bra.s.s and tough bull hides it pa.s.s'd, His corslet pierc'd, and reach'd his heart at last.

In vain the youth tugs at the broken wood; The soul comes issuing with the vital blood: He falls; his arms upon his body sound; And with his b.l.o.o.d.y teeth he bites the ground.

Turnus bestrode the corpse: "Arcadians, hear,"

Said he; "my message to your master bear: Such as the sire deserv'd, the son I send; It costs him dear to be the Phrygians' friend.

The lifeless body, tell him, I bestow, Unask'd, to rest his wand'ring ghost below."

He said, and trampled down with all the force Of his left foot, and spurn'd the wretched corse; Then s.n.a.t.c.h'd the shining belt, with gold inlaid; The belt Eurytion's artful hands had made, Where fifty fatal brides, express'd to sight, All in the compa.s.s of one mournful night, Depriv'd their bridegrooms of returning light.

In an ill hour insulting Turnus tore Those golden spoils, and in a worse he wore.

O mortals, blind in fate, who never know To bear high fortune, or endure the low!

The time shall come, when Turnus, but in vain, Shall wish untouch'd the trophies of the slain; Shall wish the fatal belt were far away, And curse the dire remembrance of the day.

The sad Arcadians, from th' unhappy field, Bear back the breathless body on a shield.

O grace and grief of war! at once restor'd, With praises, to thy sire, at once deplor'd!

One day first sent thee to the fighting field, Beheld whole heaps of foes in battle kill'd; One day beheld thee dead, and borne upon thy shield.

This dismal news, not from uncertain fame, But sad spectators, to the hero came: His friends upon the brink of ruin stand, Unless reliev'd by his victorious hand.

He whirls his sword around, without delay, And hews thro' adverse foes an ample way, To find fierce Turnus, of his conquest proud: Evander, Pallas, all that friendship ow'd To large deserts, are present to his eyes; His plighted hand, and hospitable ties.

Four sons of Sulmo, four whom Ufens bred, He took in fight, and living victims led, To please the ghost of Pallas, and expire, In sacrifice, before his fun'ral fire.

At Magus next he threw: he stoop'd below The flying spear, and shunn'd the promis'd blow; Then, creeping, clasp'd the hero's knees, and pray'd: "By young Iulus, by thy father's shade, O spare my life, and send me back to see My longing sire, and tender progeny!

A lofty house I have, and wealth untold, In silver ingots, and in bars of gold: All these, and sums besides, which see no day, The ransom of this one poor life shall pay.

If I survive, will Troy the less prevail?

A single soul's too light to turn the scale."

He said. The hero sternly thus replied: "Thy bars and ingots, and the sums beside, Leave for thy children's lot. Thy Turnus broke All rules of war by one relentless stroke, When Pallas fell: so deems, nor deems alone My father's shadow, but my living son."

Thus having said, of kind remorse bereft, He seiz'd his helm, and dragg'd him with his left; Then with his right hand, while his neck he wreath'd, Up to the hilts his shining fauchion sheath'd.

Apollo's priest, Emonides, was near; His holy fillets on his front appear; Glitt'ring in arms, he shone amidst the crowd; Much of his G.o.d, more of his purple, proud.

Him the fierce Trojan follow'd thro' the field: The holy coward fell; and, forc'd to yield, The prince stood o'er the priest, and, at one blow, Sent him an off'ring to the shades below.

His arms Seresthus on his shoulders bears, Design'd a trophy to the G.o.d of Wars.

Vulcanian Caeculus renews the fight, And Umbro, born upon the mountains' height.

The champion cheers his troops t' encounter those, And seeks revenge himself on other foes.

At Anxur's shield he drove; and, at the blow, Both shield and arm to ground together go.

Anxur had boasted much of magic charms, And thought he wore impenetrable arms, So made by mutter'd spells; and, from the spheres, Had life secur'd, in vain, for length of years.

Then Tarquitus the field in triumph trod; A nymph his mother, his sire a G.o.d.

Exulting in bright arms, he braves the prince: With his protended lance he makes defense; Bears back his feeble foe; then, pressing on, Arrests his better hand, and drags him down; Stands o'er the prostrate wretch, and, as he lay, Vain tales inventing, and prepar'd to pray, Mows off his head: the trunk a moment stood, Then sunk, and roll'd along the sand in blood.

The vengeful victor thus upbraids the slain: "Lie there, proud man, unpitied, on the plain; Lie there, inglorious, and without a tomb, Far from thy mother and thy native home, Exposed to savage beasts, and birds of prey, Or thrown for food to monsters of the sea."