Against the victor, all defence is weak:
Th' imperial bird still plies her with his beak;
He tears her bowels, and her breast he gores,
Then claps his pinions, and securely soars.
Thus, through the midst of circling enemies,
Strong Tarchon snatch'd and bore away his
prize.

The Tyrrhene troops, that shrunk before, now press

The Latins, and presume the like success. Then Aruns, doom'd to death, his arts essay'd,

To murder, unespied, the Volscian maid:
This way and that, his winding course he bends,
And, wheresoe'er she turns, her steps attends,
When she retires victorious from the chase,
He wheels about with care, and shifts his
place;

When, rushing on, she seeks her foes in fight,
He keeps aloof, and keeps her still in sight:
He threats and trembles, trying ev'ry way,
Unseen to kill, and safely to betray.

Chloreus, the priest of Cybele, from far, Glitt❜ring in Phrygian arms amidst the war, Was by the virgin view'd. The steed he press'd

Was proud with trappings; and his brawny chest

With scales of gilded brass was covered o'er:
A robe of Tyrian dye the rider wore.

With deadly wounds he gall'd the distant foe;
Gnossian his shafts, and Lycian was his bow:
A golden helm his front and head surrounds;
A gilded quiver from his shoulder sounds,
Gold weav'd with linen, on his thighs he wore,
With flow'rs of needle-work distinguish'd o'er,
With golden buckles bound, and gather'd up
be
fore,

Him the fierce maid beheld with ardent eyes,
Fond and ambitious of so rich a prize,
Or that the temple might his trophies hold,
Or else to shine herself in Trojan gold.
Blind in her haste, she chases him alone,
And seeks his life, regardless of her own.
This lucky moment the sly tailor chose;
Then, starting from his ambush, up he rose,
And threw, but first to heav'n address'd his

Nor spoils, nor triumph, from the fact I claim;
But with my future actions trust my fame.
Let me, by stealth, this female plague o'ercome,
And from the field return inglorious home."

Apollo heard, and, granting half his pray'r, Shuffled in winds the rest, and toss'd in empty air.

He gives the death desir'd: his safe return
By southern tempests to the seas is borne.
Now, when the jav'lin whizz'd along the skies,
Both armies on Camilla turn'd their eyes,
Directed by the sound. Of either host,
Th' unhappy virgin, though concern'd the most,
Was only deaf; so greedy was she bent
On golden spoils, and on her prey intent;
Till in her pap the winged weapon stood
Infix'd, and deeply drunk the purple blood.
Her sad attendants hasten to sustain
Their dying lady drooping on the plain.
Far from their sight the trembling Aruns flies,
With beating heart, and fear confus'd with joys;
Nor dares he further to pursue his blow,
Or e'en to bear the sight of his expiring foe.

As, when the wolf has torn a bullock's hide
At unawares, or ranch'd a shepherd's side,
Conscious of his audacious deed, he flies,
And claps his quivering tail between his thighs:
So, speeding once, the wretch no more attends,
But, spurring forward, herds among his friends.
She wrench'd the jav'lin with her dying hands:
But wedg'd within her breast the weapon stands:
The wood she draws, the steely point remains;
She staggers in her seat with agonizing pains
(A gath'ring mist o'erclouds her cheerful eyes;
And from her cheeks the rosy colour flies)
Then turns to her, whom, of her female train,
She trusted most, and thus she speaks with pain:
"Acca 'tis past! he swims before my sight,
Inexorable Death: and claims his right.
Bear my last words to Turnus: fly with speed,
And bid him timely to my charge succeed,
Repel the Trojans, and the town relieve:→→
Farewell! and in this kiss my parting breath
receive."

She said, and, sliding, sunk upon the plain : Dying, her open'd hand forsakes the rein; Short and more short, she pants: by slow de

grees

Her mind the passage from her body frees,
She drops her sword; she nods her plumy crest,
Her drooping head declining on her breast:
In the last sigh her struggling soul expires,
And, murm'ring with disdain, to Stygian sounds
retires.

A shout, that struck the golden stars, ensu'd; Despair and rage, and languish'd fight renew'd. The Trojan troops and Tuscan, in a line, Advance to charge; the mix'd Arcadians

But Cynthia's maid, high seated, from afar,
Surveys the field, and fortune of the war,
Unmov'd a while, till, prostrate on the plain,
Welt'ring in blood, she sees Camilla slain,
And, round her corpse, of friends and foes a
fighting train.

Then, from the bottom of her breast, she drew
A mournful sigh, and these sad words ensue:
"Too dear a fine, ah, much lamented maid!
For warring with the Trojans, thou hast paid:
Nor aught avail'd, in this unhappy strife,
Diana's sacred arms to save thy life.
Yet unreveng'd the goddess will not leave
Her vot❜ry's death, nor with vain sorrow grieve.
Branded the wretch, and be his name abhorr'd;
But after-ages shall thy praise record.
Th' inglorious coward soon shall press the plain:
Thus vows thy queen, and thus the Fates or-
dain.
[mound-

High o'er the field, there stood a hilly
Sacred the place, and spread with oaks around-
Where, in a marble tomb, Dercenus, lay,
A king that once in Latium bore the sway.
The beauteous Opis thither bent her flight,
To mark the traitor Aruns from the height.
Him in refulgent arms she soon espied,
Swoll'n with success; and loudly thus she cried:
"Thy backward steps, vain boaster, are too
late:

Turn, like a man, at length, and meet thy fate.
Charg'd with my message to Camilla go,
And say I sent thee to the shades below-
An honour undeserv'd from Cynthia's bow."
She said, and from her quiver chose with
speed

The winged shaft, predestin'd for the deed;
Then to the stubborn yew her strength applied
Till the far distant horns approach'd on either
side.
[she drew;
The bow-string touch'd her breast, so strong
Whizzing in air the fatal arrow flew.

At once the twanging bow and sounding dart The traitor heard, and felt the point within his heart.

Him, beating with his heels in pangs of death, His flying friends to foreign fields bequeath. The conqu'ring damsel, with expanded wings, The welcome message to her mistress brings. Their leader lost, the Volscians quit the field;

And, unsustain'd, the chiefs of Turnus yield. The frighted soldiers, when their captains fly, More on their speed than on their strength rely. Confus'd in flight, they bear each other down, And spur their horses headlong to the town. Driv'n by their foes, and to their fears resign'd, Not once they turn, but take their wounds be

hind.

These drop the shield, and those the lance forego, Or on their shoulders bear the slacken'd bow. The hoofs of horses with a rattling sound, Beat short and thick, and shake the rotten ground.

Black clouds of dust come rolling in the sky,
And o'er the darken'd walls and rampires fly.
The trembling matrons, from their lofty stands,
Rend heav'n with female shrieks, and wring
their hands.

All pressing on, pursuers and pursu'd,
Are crush'd in crowds, a mingled multitude.
Some happy few escape: the throng too late
Rush on for entrance, till they choke the gate.
E'en in the sight of home, the wretched sire
Looks on, and sees his helpless son expire.
Then, in a fright, the folding gates they close,
But leave their friends excluded with their foes.
The vanquish'd cry; the victors loudly shout:
'Tis terror all within, and slaughter all without.
Blind in their fear, they bounce against the
wall,

Or, to the moats pursu'd, precipitate their fall.
The Latian virgins, valiant with despair,
Arm'd on the tow'rs, the common danger share:
So much of zeal their country's cause inspir'd:
So much Camilla's great example fir'd.
Poles, sharpen'd in the flames, from high they
throw

With imitated darts to gall the foe.

Their lives, for godlike freedom they bequeath,
And crowd each other to be first in death.
Meantime to Turnus ambush'd in the shade,
With heavy tidings came th' unhappy maid:
"The Volscians overthrown-Camilla kill'd-
The foes, entirely masters of the field,
Like a resistless flood, come rolling on:
The cry goes off the plain, and thickens to the
town."

Inflam'd with rage, (for so the Furies fire The Daunian's breast, and so the Fates re

Since on the safety of thy life alone
Depends Latinus, and the Latian throne-
Refuse me not this one, this only pray'r,
To wave the combat, and pursue the war.
Whatever chance attends this fatal strife,
Think it includes, in thine, Amata's life,
I cannot live a slave, or see my throne
Usurp'd by strangers, or a Trojan son."

At this, a flood of tears Lavinia shed;
A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread,
Varying her cheeks by turns with white and
red.

The driving colours, never at a stay,
Run here and there, and flush, and fade away.
Delightful change! thus Indian iv'ry shows,
Which with the bord'ring paint of purple glows;
Or lilies damask'd by the neighb'ring rose.
The lover gaz'd, and, burning `with desire,
The more he look'd, the more he fed the fire:
Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spite,
Roll in his breast, and rouse him to the fight.
Then fixing on the queen his ardent eyes,
Firm to his first intent, he thus replies:
"Oh mother! do not by your tears prepare
Such boding omens, and prejudge the war,
Resolv'd on fight, I am no longer free

To shun my death, if heav'n my death decree"

Then turning to the herald, thus pursues: "Go, greet the Trojan with ungrateful news: Denounce from me, that, when to-morrow's light

Shall gild the heav'ns, he need not urge the fight:

The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more
Shall dye, with mutual blood, the Latian shore:
Our single swords the quarrel shall decide;
And to the victor be the beauteous bride."

He said, and, striding on with speedy pace,
He sought his coursers of the Thracian race.
At his approach, they toss their heads on high,
And, proudly neighing, promise victory.
The sires of these Orithyia sent from far,
To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war.
The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so
white,

Nor northern winds in fleetness match'd their flight.

Officious grooms stand ready by his side; And some with combs their flowing manes divide,

And others stroke their chests, and gently sooth their pride.

He sheath'd his limbs in arms; a temper'd

mass

of golden metal those, and mountain-brass. Then to his head his glitt'ring helm he tied, And girt his faithful falchion to his side.

In his Ætnæan forge, the God of Fire
That falchion labour'd for the hero's sire,
Immortal keenness on the blade bestow'd,
And plung'd it hissing in the Stygian flood.
Propp'd on a pillar, which the ceiling bore,
Was plac'd the lance Auruncan Actor wore;
Which with such force he brandish'd in his
hand,

The tough ash trembled like an osier wand:
Then cried, "O pond'rous spoil of Actor slain,
And never yet by Turnus toss'd in vain!
Fail not this day thy wonted force: but go,
Sent by this hand, to pierce the Trojan foe:
Give me to tear his corslet from his breast,
And from that eunuch head to rend the crest;
Dragg'd in the dust, his frizzled hair to soil,
Hot from the vexing ir'n, and smear'd with frag-
rant oil."

Thus while he raves, from his wide nostrils

flies

A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes.
So fares the bull in his lov'd female's sight.
Proudly he bellows, and preludes the fight:
He tries his goring horns against a tree,
And meditates his absent enemy;
He pushes at the winds; he digs the strand
With his black hoofs, and spurns the yellow
sand,

Nor less the Trojan, in his Lemnian arms,
To future fight his manly courage warms:
He whets his fury, and with joy prepares
To terminate at once the ling'ring wars;
To cheer his chiefs and tender son, relates
What heav'n had promis'd, and expounds the
fates.

Then to the Latian king he sends, to cease
The rage of arms, and ratify the peace.

The morn ensuing, from the mountain's height,
Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy light:
Th' etherial coursers, bounding from the sea,
From out their flaming nostrils breath'd the day;
When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard,
In friendly labour join'd, the list prepar❜d.
Beneath the walls, they measure out the space;
Then sacred altars rear, on sods of grass,
Where with religious rites, their common gods
they place.

In purest white, the priests their heads attire,
And living waters bear, and holy fire;
And o'er their linen hoods and shaded hair,
Long twisted wreaths of sacred vervain wear.

In order issuing from the town, appears he Latin legion, arm'd with pointed spears: And from the fields, advancing on a line, The Trojan and the Tuscan forces join: Their various arms afford a pleasing sight: A peaceful train they seem, in peace prepar'd for fight.

Betwixt the ranks the proud commanders ride, Glitt'ring with gold, and vests in purple died Here Mnestheus, author of the Memmian line, And there Messapus, born of seed divine. The sign is giv'n; and, round the listed space, Each man in order fills his proper place. Reclining on their ample shields, they stand, And fix their pointed lances in the sand. Now, studious of the sight, a num'rous throng Of either sex promiscuous, old and young, Swarm from the town: by those who rest behind, The gates and walls, and houses' tops, are lin'd. Meantime the queen of heav'n beheld the sight. [height: With eyes unpleas'd, from mount Albano's (Since call'd Albano by succeeding fame, But then an empty hill, without a name) She thence survey'd the field, the Trojan pow'rs, The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine tow'rs. Then thus the goddess of the skies bespake, With sighs and tears, the goddess of the lake; King Turnus' sister, once a lovely maid, Ere to the lust of lawless Jove betray'dCompress'd by force, but, by the grateful god, Now made the Naïs of the neighb'ring flood. "O nymph, the pride of living lakes! (said she) O most renown'd, and most belov'd by me! Long hast thou known, nor need I to record, The wanton sallies of my wand'ring lord. Of ev'ry Latian fair, whom Jove misled To mount by stealth my violated bed, To thee alone I grudg'd not his embrace, But gave a part of heav'n, and an unenvied place. Now learn from me thy near approaching grief, Nor think my wishes want to thy relief. [nied While Fortune favour'd, nor heav'n's king deTo lend my succour to the Latian side, I sav'd thy brother, and the sinking state: But now he struggles with unequal fate, And goes, with gods averse, o'ermatch'd in might,

[sight.

To meet inevitable death in fight;
Nor must I break the truce, nor can sustain the
Thou, if thou dar'st, thy present aid supply:
It well becomes a sister's care to try.'

At this the lovely nymph, with grief oppress'd, Thrice tore her hair, and beat her comely breast.

To whom Saturnia thus: "Thy tears are late: Haste, snatch him, if he can be snatch'd from fate:

New tumults kindle; violate the truce:
Who knows what changeful Fortune may
' produce?

'Tis not a crime t' attempt what I decree;
Or, if it were, discharge the crime on me."
She said, and, sailing on the winged wind,
Left the sad nymph suspended in her mind.

And now in pomp the peaceful kings appear:
Four steeds the chariot of Latinus bear:
Twelve golden beams around his temples play,
To mark his lineage from the god of day.
Two snowy coursers Turnus' chariot yoke,
And in his hand two massy spears he shook :
Then issu'd from the camp in arms divine,
Eneas, author of the Roman line;
And by his side Ascanius took his place,
The second hope of Rome's immortal race.
Adorn'd in white, a rev'rend priest appears,
And, off 'rings to the flaming altars bears-
A porket, and a lamb that never suffer'd shears.
Then to the rising sun he turns his eyes,
And strews the beasts design'd for sacrifice,
With salt and meal: with like officious care
He marks their foreheads, and he clips their
hair.

Betwixt their horns the purple wine he sheds,
With the same gen'rous juice the flame he feeds.
Eneas then unsheath'd his shining sword,
And thus with pious pray'rs the gods ador'd
"All-seeing sun! and thou, Ausonian soil,
For which I have sustain'd so long a toil;
Thou, king of heav'n! and thou, the queen of air,
Propitious now, and reconcil'd by pray'r!
Thou, god of war, whose unresisted sway
The labours and events of arms obey !
Ye living fountains, and ye running floods!
All powers of ocean, all ethereal gods!
Hear, and bear record: if I fall in field,
Or, recreant in the fight, to Turnus yield,
My Trojans shall increase Evander's town;
Ascanius shall renounce th' Ausonian crown:
All claims, all questions of debate shall cease,
Nor he, nor they, with force infringe the peace.
But, if my juster arms prevail in fight,
(As sure they shall, if I divine aright)
My Trojans shall not o'er th' Italians reign:
Both equal, both unconquer'd, shall remain,
Join'd in their laws, their lands, and their
abodes;

I ask but altars for my weary gods.
The care of those religious rites be mine:
The crown to king Latinus I resign:
His be the sov'reign sway. Nor will I share
His pow'r in peace, or his command in war.
For me, my friends another town shall frame,
And bless the rising tow'rs with fair Lavinia's

name.

Thus he. Then with erected eyes and hands, The Latian king before his altar stands. 'By the same heav'n, (said he) and earth and main,

And all the pow'rs that all the three contain;
By hell below, and by that upper god,
Whose thunder signs the peace, who seals it
with his nod;