A snow-white steer, before thy altar led, Who, like his mother, bears aloft his head,
Butts with his threat ning brows, and bellowing stands, And dares the fight, and spurns the yellow sands.' Jove bow'd the heav'ns, and lent a gracious ear,
And thunder'd on the left, amidst the clear. Sounded at once the bow; and swiftly flies The feather'd death, and hisses through the skies. The steel through both his temples forced the way: Extended on the ground, Numanus lay.
Go now, vain boaster! and true valor scorn ! The Phrygians, twice subdued, yet make this third
Ascanius said no more. The heav'ns with shouting, and new vigor take. Apollo then bestrode a golden cloud,
To view the feats of arms, and fighting crowd ; And thus the beardless victor he bespoke aloud : 'Advance, illustrious youth! increase in fame, And wide from east to west extend thy name- Offspring of gods thyself; and Rome shall owe To thee a race of demigods below.
This is the way to heav'n: the pow'rs divine From this beginning date the Julian line.
To thee, to them, and their victorious heirs, The conquer'd war is due; and the vast world is theirs.
Troy is too narrow for thy name.' He said,
And plunging downward shot his radiant head; Dispell'd the breathing air, that broke his flight:
Shorn of his beams, a man to mortal sight, Old Butes' form he took, Anchises' squire,
Now left, to rule Ascanius, by his sire:
His wrinkled visage, and his hoary hairs,
His mien, his habit, and his arms, he wears,
And thus salutes the boy, too forward for his years:
'Suffice it thee, thy father's worthy son, The warlike prize thou hast already won. The god of archers gives thy youth a part Of his own praise, nor envies equal art. Now tempt the war no more.' He said, and flew Obscure in air, and vanish'd from their view. The Trojans, by his arms, their patron know, And hear the twanging of his heav'nly bow. Then duteous force they use, and Phœbus' name, To keep from fight the youth too fond of fame.
Undaunted, they themselves no danger shun: From wall to wall the shouts and clamors run: They bend their bows; they whirl their slings around: Heaps of spent arrows fall, and strew the ground; 906 And helms, and shields, and rattling arms, resound. The combat thickens, like the storm that flies From westward, when the show'ry Kids arise : Or patt'ring hail comes pouring on the main, When Jupiter descends in harden'd rain, Or bellowing clouds burst with a stormy sound, And with an armed winter strew the ground.
Pand'rus and Bitias, thunder-bolts of war, Whom Hiera to bold Alcanor bare On Ida's top two youths of height and size Like firs that on their mother mountain rise- Presuming on their force, the gates unbar, And of their own accord invite the war,
With fates averse, against their king's command. 920
Arm'd on the right and on the left they stand, And flank the passage: shining steel they wear,
And waving crests above their heads appear.
Thus two tall oaks, that Padus' banks adorn, Lift up to heav'n their leafy heads unshorn,
And, overpress'd with nature's heavy load,
Dance to the whistling winds, and at each other nod.
In flows a tide of Latians, when they see The gate set open, and the passage free; Bold Quercens, with rash Tmarus, rushing on, Equicolus, that in bright armor shone, And Hæmon first: but soon repulsed they fly, Or in the well-defended pass they die. These with success are fired, and those with rage; And each on equal terms at length engage. Drawn from their lines, and issuing on the plain, The Trojans hand to hand the fight maintain.
Fierce Turnus in another quarter fought, When suddenly th' unhoped-for news was brought, The foes had left the fastness of their place, Prevail'd in fight, and had his men in chase.. He quits th' attack, and, to prevent their fate, Runs, where the giant brothers guard the gate.
The first he met, Antiphates the brave,
(But base-begotten on a Theban slave
Sarpedon's son,) he slew: the deadly dart Found passage through his breast, and pierced his
Fix'd in the wound th' Italian cornel stood, Warm'd in his lungs, and in his vital blood. Aphidnus next, and Erymanthus dies, And Meropes, and the gigantic size Of Bitias, threat'ning with his ardent eyes. Not by the feeble dart he fell oppress'd,
(A dart were lost within that roomy breast,) But from a knotted lance, large, heavy, strong, Which roar'd like thunder as it whirl'd along: Not two bull-hides th' impetuous force withhold, Nor coat of double mail, with scales of gold. Down sunk the monster-bulk, and press'd the ground: (His arms and clatt'ring shield on the vast body
Not with less ruin than the Baian mole, Raised on the seas, the surges to control- At once comes tumbling down the rocky wall; Prone to the deep, the stones disjointed fall Of the vast pile; the scatter'd ocean flies;
Black sands, discolor'd froth, and mingled mud, arise: The frighted billows roll, and seek the shores: Then trembles Prochyta, then Ischia roars: Typhœus, thrown beneath by Jove's command, Astonish'd at the flaw that shakes the land,
Soon shifts his weary side, and, scarce awake, With wonder feels the weight press lighter on his back.
The warrior god the Latian troops inspired, New strung their sinews, and their courage fired, But chills the Trojan hearts with cold affright: Then black despair precipitates their flight.
When Pandarus beheld his brother kill'd, The town with fear and wild confusion fill'd, He turns the hinges of the heavy gate With both his hands, and adds his shoulders to the
Some happier friends within the walls inclosed; The rest shut out, to certain death exposed. Fool as he was, and frantic in his care, T' admit young Turnus, and include the war. He thrust amid the crowd, securely bold, Like a fierce tiger pent amid the fold. Too late his blazing buckler they descry, And sparkling fires that shot from either eye: His mighty members, and his ample breast, His rattling armor, and his crimson crest. Far from that hated face the Trojans fly,
All but the fool who sought his destiny. Mad Pandarus steps forth, with vengeance vow'd
For Bitias' death, and threatens thus aloud:
'These are not Ardea's walls, nor this the town 995 Amata proffers with Lavinia's crown :
'Tis hostile earth you tread. Of hope bereft,
No means of safe return by flight are left.'
To whom, with count'nance calm, and soul sedate,
Thus Turnus: 'Then begin and try thy fate :
My message to the ghost of Priam bear;
Tell him a new Achilles sent thee there.' A lance of tough ground-ash the Trojan threw,
Rough in the rind, and knotted as it grew; With his full force he whirl'd it first around; But the soft yielding air received the wound: Imperial Juno turn'd the course before, And fix'd the wand'ring weapon in the door. 'But hope not thou,' said Turnus, ' when I strike, To shun thy fate: our force is not alike: Nor thy steel temper'd by the Lemnian god.' Then rising, on his utmost stretch he stood, And aim'd from high: the full descending blow Cleaves the broad front and beardless cheeks in two. Down sinks the giant with a thund'ring sound: 1015 His pond'rous limbs oppress the trembling ground; Blood, brains, and foam, gush from the gaping wound. Scalp, face, and shoulders, the keen steel divides; And the shared visage hangs on equal sides. The Trojans fly from their approaching fate : 1020 And, had the victor then secured the gate, And to his troops without unclosed the bars,
One lucky day had ended all his wars.
But boiling youth, and blind desire of blood, Push on his fury, to pursue the crowd.
Hamstring'd behind, unhappy Gyges died; Then Phalaris is added to his side.
The pointed jav'lins from the dead he drew,
And their friends' arms against their fellows threw.
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