Chapter 30

Speedily the news of this sad disaster, and of the consequent retreat of his forces in that part of the field, was borne to Æneas. Rendered furious by the event, he impetuously mowed with his sword a bloody passage through the hostile ranks in search of Turnus, on whom he was eager to avenge the death of his friend. The thought of the bright youth who had thus perished in his cause, of the hoary father bereaved of all that made life dear to him, filled his heart with sorrow as he recalled the kindness which both had shown to him, and the pledges of enduring friendship he had exchanged with them. Eight Rutulian warriors he struck down, and captured them alive, destining them as victims to be offered to the shade of Pallas, and to drench with their blood the flames of the hero's funeral pyre. Next, Æneas having hurled a javelin at a Latian named Magus, the trembling wretch evaded the dart by stooping, and as Æneas rushed upon him with uplifted sword, he clasped his knees, and implored him to spare his life, proffering a large ransom of silver and gold which lay concealed underground in his house. Sternly the Trojan chief bade him keep his treasures for his sons; as for showing mercy, that was forbidden to him from the moment that Pallas fell by the hand of Turnus. Then grasping the suppliant's helmet, and forcing back his head so as to expose the neck, even as Magus renewed his petition he plunged the sword into his body to the hilt. Near by, the luckless Æmonides, a priest of Apollo and Diana, who wore a sacred fillet on his temples and shone in burnished armor, fell a victim to his relentless spear, and the splendid arms he had worn were carried off by Serestus as an offering to Mars. The Rutulians fled in terror before the raging chief; but King Cæculus of Præneste, and Umbro, the leader of the Marsians, renewed the struggle. A huge warrior named Tarquitus, the son of the nymph Dryope, dared to oppose himself to Æneas, but his fate was soon decided. The hero first pierced his corselet with a spear, and then, as he lay wounded and imploring mercy, smote off his head with his sword. Spurning the bleeding trunk, he furiously cried, "Lie there, haughty champion! Thee no tender mother shall lodge in the earth, or place a tomb above thy body; to birds of prey thou shalt be left, or cast in the sea to be devoured by fishes." Still insatiable of slaughter, he drove into terrified flight Antæus and Lycas, two of Turnus's bravest followers. But now the fierce Lucagus approached in a chariot drawn by two snow-white coursers. These were guided by his brother Liger, while he himself flourished his sword in the air, and prepared to encounter Æneas, who on his part rushed forward to meet them. "These," cried Liger, "are not the steeds of Diomedes, nor this the plain of Troy. Here an end shall be put at once to thy life and to the war." Against these insults Æneas prepared to give an answer otherwise than in words, and as Lucagus bent forward in readiness for the fight, the Trojan javelin whizzed through the rim of his shield, smote him in the groin, and hurled him, quivering in the pangs of death, out of the chariot. Æneas assailed his dying ears with a bitter scoff: "It is not, O Lucagus, the slowness of thy steeds in flight that hath lost thee thy chariot, but thou thyself, springing from thy seat, hast abandoned it." So saying, he seized the chariot; and now the miserable Liger, extending his hands in supplication, begged for his life. "It was not in this fashion that thou spokest a little while since," replied the relentless hero. "It would not be fitting that thou shouldst desert thy brother. Die, therefore, and attend him to the shades." With that he thrust the avenging sword through his heart, whence the trembling soul fled with a shriek.

So Æneas spread havoc amid the hostile ranks, and drove the forces of Turnus back in headlong rout, so that Ascanius and those who had hitherto been shut up in the fortifications were able to issue forth into the field. Meanwhile Jupiter, watching from Olympus the fortunes of the day, accosted his consort. "Thou art in the right, my cherished queen, in alleging that Venus gives her aid to the Trojans; for without divine aid, how would it be possible for any mortal to achieve such deeds as Æneas is now accomplishing?" "Why," submissively answered Juno, "dost thou tease me, who am already oppressed with anguish for the fate of the people I befriend? Had I that share in your love which I once enjoyed, and which it is fitting for me to possess, thou surely couldst not refuse me this much, that I might have permission to rescue Turnus from the fate that threatens him, and restore him safe to his father Daunus. But since that cannot be, let him die, and glut the vengeance of the Trojan with his blood; yet his origin is divine, and often has he piled thy altars with sacrifices." Not unmoved, the ruler of the Gods replied, "If you plead for a respite from immediate death, and a little breathing-time for the youth, I grant you to bear him from the field, and for a short time to preserve him. So far I will indulge you; but if you hope to gain any greater favor, and imagine that the whole predetermined course of the war is to be altered at your entreaty, you delude yourself with empty hopes." With tears Juno responded, "What if thou shouldst grant in thy heart what in words thou dost refuse, and continue the life of Turnus for its natural duration? I fear much that a speedy end awaits the brave youth; but oh! I pray that I may be misled by groundless alarms, and that thou, to whom all power belongs, may alter thy purpose for the better."

Not daring to say more, the queen of heaven hastily descended from Olympus towards the contending armies. Then she devised an airy phantom, wearing armor which exactly resembled that of Æneas, and imitating to the life his walk and mien. This shadow she caused to flutter in the forefront of the battle, full in the view of Turnus, and to provoke him with darts and insolent words. The enraged Rutulian eagerly pressed upon it, and from a distance hurled against it a spear. Immediately the spectre, wheeling about, took to flight. Turnus, imagining that in very truth it was the Trojan chief who feared to meet him, and filled with baseless exultation, cried out, "Æneas, whither dost thou fly? Desert not thus thy promised bride; with this right hand will I bestow upon thee the settled abode thou hast sought in vain through so many lands and seas." Thus vociferating, he madly pursued the deceitful phantom. It chanced that near the shore there lay a vessel, joined to the land by a temporary bridge of planks. Hither Juno led the shadow, and caused it in seeming fear to leap on board and throw itself into a hiding-place. With not less speed Turnus followed, bounded along the bridge, and mounted to the lofty prow of the ship in search of the supposed fugitive. Instantly the goddess severed the cable, and drove the vessel over the foaming waves. Then the phantom melted into the air, and the Rutulian, utterly bewildered, gazed about him in despair, nor did he feel at all thankful to the guardian deity for having thus preserved him from the arms of Æneas. "Almighty Father," he cried, raising his eyes and hands towards heaven, "why dost thou think me worthy of such shame as this? What have I done to merit such a punishment? whither am I borne? How shall I venture again to enter the walls of Laurentum or look upon my camp? What will be said of me by the warriors who have followed me into this war, and whom--unutterable shame!--I have abandoned to the bloodthirsty Trojans! O winds! take pity on me, I entreat you; dash this vessel on some rugged crag, and overwhelm me so that I can no longer be conscious either of my humiliation or of the reproaches of my Rutulians." While he thus lamented, he was uncertain whether he should put an end to his own life with his sword or plunge into the sea and endeavor to regain the land by swimming. Three times he attempted each expedient, and as often Juno, full of pity, restrained him. Carried along by a favorable wind, the ship bore him safely to the capital of his father, King Daunus.

Meanwhile Æneas raged through the battle-field in search of the victim whom the queen of the Gods had thus snatched from his conquering hands. Under his leadership the Trojans and their allies, flushed with success, pressed more eagerly on their discomfited foe; but Mezentius now advanced to restore the courage of the Rutulians. The Etrurians, as soon as they saw their expelled monarch, out of hostility to whom they had engaged in the war, rushed upon him with shouts of rage; but he, as fearless as he was wicked, stood as firmly against them as a great rock on the shore meets all the fury of the winds and waves. Three warriors he overthrew in quick succession: Hebrus he cut down with his sword, Latagus he slew by hurling a great stone which battered in his face, and at Palmus he threw a javelin which pierced his thigh and extended him helpless on the ground. Then the raging king slew Evas the Phrygian, and a Trojan named Mimas, who in former days had been the companion of Paris, having been born in Troy on the same night that gave to the light the ill-starred son of Priam. Paris now lay in eternal repose amid the ruins of his native city, while to Mimas the sword of Mezentius assigned an unknown grave on the distant shore of Italy. And just as when an old wild boar, chased from his retreat amid the wooded Alps, stands at bay among the underwood, and the hunters, afraid to approach him, ply him with darts from a distance, while he gnashes his tusks with rage and faces them undaunted, so stood Mezentius; while his former subjects, though filled with just anger against him, and eager for his destruction, dare not come within reach of his dreaded sword, but galled him with spears and useless clamor. It chanced that a Greek from Corytus, named Acron, presented himself in the front, conspicuous in nodding plumes, and in purple trappings that had been worked for him by his betrothed wife. His gay attire caught the eye of Mezentius, who rushed forward and smote down the luckless Greek; then, as the others fell back, he cut off the retreat of an Etrurian chief, Orodes, forced him to engage hand to hand, and speedily slew him. Pressing his foot on the expiring warrior to draw out his lance from his body, Mezentius cried to his followers, "Behold, friends! Orodes has fallen--not the meanest of our foes." The Rutulians raised a joyful shout, but the dying Orodes faintly answered, "Not long shall thou rejoice with impunity over me; a similar fate awaits thyself, and soon shalt thou also be stretched lifeless on this same field." Smiling scornfully, Mezentius returned, "Die thou, and leave my fate to the Gods, in whose hands it rests." His example inspired other of the Rutulians; they pressed fiercely forward and drove back the troops of Æneas. Mezentius advanced at their head, and as he strode along, the Trojan hero espied him, and hastened towards him. Unawed by the prospect of an encounter even with so terrible a foe, Mezentius stood firm, and poising a huge spear in his hand, exclaimed,--for he was a contemner of the Gods, and never offered invocations to them,--"Now let this right hand and this good dart be my aid; and then I vow that my son, my dear Lausus, shall be clad in the bright arms torn from the body of yon Trojan pirate." With these words he drew the spear. Sent with a true aim, it struck the shield of Æneas, but glanced from the hardened surface, and turning aside, pierced the side of Antores, a faithful follower of Evander, who had come with Pallas to the war. Thus died Antores, by a weapon never aimed at him, but he was speedily avenged. Æneas, putting all his might into the cast, now in his turn hurled his spear. It tore its way through the triple plates of Mezentius' shield, through his corselet, and inflicted a severe wound in his groin, though its force was so far spent that the injury was not mortal.

Overjoyed at the sight of his enemy's blood, Æneas drew his sword from its sheath, and rushed upon Mezentius, who was as yet bewildered by the blow. When Lausus saw his father in such peril he sprang forward and stood before Æneas, while Mezentius fell back among his friends, the Trojan lance still trailing in his armor. Lausus received the first stroke of Æneas' sword on his buckler, while the Rutulians with loud shouts applauded him, and poured on the Trojan hero a tempest of darts. Against this he protected himself with his shield, and meanwhile, pitying the youth and courage of Lausus, spoke to him in words of warning: "Why do you thus rush on your own destruction, and attempt what is beyond your strength? Your filial devotion blinds you to your danger." But Lausus, resolute to defend his wounded sire, returned a haughty defiance. Then Æneas could no longer control his wrath; he exerted all his strength, and thrust his terrible sword up to the hilt through the body of the youth, who sank lifeless on the blood-steeped ground. When Æneas saw the comely young warrior stretched dead before him, his heart was filled with pity. "Ill-fated youth!" he cried, "how can I testify my reverence for thy filial piety and thy undaunted valor? Thou shalt at least retain those arms which it was thy delight to wear, and thy body shall be given up unspoiled to thy friends." With that he summoned the dismayed followers of Lausus, and with his own hands raised from the ground the comely body, all disfigured with blood and wounds. Meantime Mezentius had retreated to the bank of the Tiber, where he took off his armor, and bathed his wound with water. While he was thus resting from the fatigues of the battle, he was full of anxiety for his son, and sent messenger after messenger to recall him from the fight. But too soon a crowd of weeping warriors appeared, carrying the corpse of Lausus in their arms. The sorrowing father divined what had occurred from their lamentations, even before the body was brought to him. He threw dust upon his head, he clasped the loved form in his arms, and bedewed the pallid face with his tears. "O my son," he exclaimed, "was I possessed with such a fond desire of life as to suffer thee to offer thyself in my place to the relentless foe? Am I preserved at the cost of these cruel wounds? Now, indeed, I feel the calamity of exile. My crimes have cost thee not only thy paternal throne and sceptre, but thy life also. It was I that owed expiation to my country, and should have satisfied my people by a deserved death. And yet I live! yet I do not quit the detested light! but I will quickly follow thee." Then he rose up, and though crippled by the wound in his thigh, and suffering anguish from its smart, he did not flinch, but ordered his attendants to bring his courser. This was a horse famous for its speed and its prompt obedience to the rein. When it was brought, he accosted it: "Long have we lived together, Rhoebus, and many great deeds have we accomplished. To-day we shall either bear away the head of Æneas and his arms all spattered with his blood, or we shall perish together; for I am assured that thou wilt never condescend to bear a Trojan lord." Then mounting the noble steed, he filled both hands with darts, and dashed recklessly into the midst of the battle. His heart swelling with rage and shame and grief, he thrice loudly summoned Æneas to the combat. Æneas heard, and rejoiced at the challenge; and with threatening spear advanced to meet his foe. "Barbarous wretch," cried Mezentius, "thinkest thou to affright me with thy weapons, now that thou hast robbed me of my son? That was the only means by which thou couldst destroy me. I fear neither death nor the anger of any of your gods. Forbear threats; now am I come hither to die, but first I bring you these gifts." So saying, he rapidly hurled one dart after another at the hero, whirling swiftly round him on his horse; but the shield framed by Vulcan's hands received all the shafts and repelled them. Wearied at last of so unequal a fight, in which he had to endure ceaseless attacks without striking a blow, Æneas stepped forward, and hurled his spear against the charger, piercing its skull betwixt the ears. The fiery horse reared upward in the death agony, and then fell backward upon his rider, pressing him to the earth. The spectators of this fierce combat uplifted their voices in shouts, some in joy and others in sorrow, as Æneas rushed up to the fallen warrior, and lifting his sword to deal the fatal blow, cried, "Where is now the stern Mezentius?" The Etrurian, on the other hand, replied, "Spiteful foe, why dost thou threaten and insult before thou strikest? Thou wilt do me no wrong in slaying me. I sought thee expecting nothing else, and neither I nor my son has asked mercy at thy hands. One favor alone I implore of thee, that thou wilt give burial to my corpse. I know well that the hate of my former subjects would pursue me after death. Defend my remains, I entreat, from outrage, and grant me a grave along with my son." He said no more, but extended his throat to receive the fatal blow, which descended and drew forth his life as the blood poured over his armor.

The shades of night were now gathering, and as the Rutulians and Latins had quitted the field in confusion, the conflicts of that sanguinary day were at last, ended.

ÆNEAS FINALLY CONQUERS THE LATINS

By Alfred J. Church

Prince Turnus was filled with rage. Even as a lion which a hunter hath wounded breaketh the arrow wherewith he hath been stricken, and rouseth himself to battle, shaking his mane and roaring, so Turnus arose. And first he spake to King Latinus, saying, "I will meet this man face to face, and slay him while ye look on; or, if the Gods will that he vanquish me so, he shall rule over you, and have Lavinia to wife."

But King Latinus made answer, "Yet think awhile, my son. Thou hast the kingdom of thy father Daunus; and there are other noble virgins in Latium whom thou mayest have to wife. Wilt thou not then be content? For to give my daughter to any husband of this nation I was forbidden, as thou knowest. Yet did I disobey, being moved by love of thee, my wife also beseeching me with many tears. Thou seest what troubles I and my people, and thou more than all, have suffered from that time. Twice have we fled in the battle, and now the city only is left to us. If I must yield me to these men, let me yield whilst thou art yet alive. For what doth it profit me that thou shouldst die? Nay, but all men would cry shame on me if I gave thee to death!" Now for a space Turnus spake not for wrath. Then he said, "Be not troubled for me, my father. For I, too, can smite with the spear; and as for this Æneas, his mother will not be at hand to snatch him in a cloud from my sight."

Then Amata cried to him, saying, "Fight not, I beseech thee, with these men of Troy, my son; for surely what thou sufferest I also shall suffer. Nor will I live to see Æneas my son-in-law."

And Lavinia heard the voice of her mother, and wept. As a man stains ivory with crimson, or as roses are seen mixed with lilies, even so the virgin's face burned with crimson. And Turnus, regarding her, loved her exceedingly, and made answer, "Trouble me not with tears or idle words, my mother, for to this battle I must go. And do thou, Idmon the herald, say to the Phrygian king, 'To-morrow, when the sun shall rise, let the people have peace, but we two will fight together. And let him that prevaileth have Lavinia to wife.'"

Then first he went to the stalls of his horses. The wife of the North Wind gave them to Pilumnus. Whiter than snow were they, and swifter than the wind. Then he put the coat of mail about his shoulders, and fitted a helmet on his head, and took the great sword which Vulcan had made for Daunus his father, and had dipped it when it was white-hot in the river of Styx. His spear also he took where it stood against a pillar, saying, "Serve me well, my spear, that hast never failed me before, that I may lay low this womanish robber of Phrygia, and soil with dust his curled and perfumed hair." The next day the men of Italy and the men of Troy measured out a space for the battle. And in the midst they builded an altar of turf. And the two armies sat on the one side and on the other, having fixed their spears in the earth and laid down their shields. Also the women and the old men stood on the towers and roofs of the city, that they might see the fight.

But Queen Juno spake to Juturna, the sister of Turnus, saying, "Seest thou how these two are now about to fight, face to face? And indeed Turnus goeth to his death. As for me, I endure not to look upon this covenant or this battle. But if thou canst do aught for thy brother, lo! the time is at hand." And when the nymph wept and beat her breast, Juno said, "This is no time for tears. Save thy brother, if thou canst, from death; or cause that they break this covenant."

After this came the kings, that they might make the covenant together. And King Latinus rode in a chariot with four horses, and he had on his head a crown with twelve rays of gold, for he was of the race of the sun; and Turnus came in a chariot with two white horses, having a javelin in either hand; and Æneas had donned the arms which Vulcan had made, and with him was the young Iulus. And after due offering Æneas sware, calling on all the Gods, "If the victory shall fall this day to Turnus, the men of Troy shall depart to the city of Evander, nor trouble this land any more. But if it fall to me, I will not that the Latins should serve the men of Troy. Let the nations be equal one with the other. The gods that I bring we will worship together, but King Latinus shall reign as before. A new city shall the men of Troy build for me, and Lavinia shall call it after her own name."

Then King Latinus sware, calling on the gods that are above and the gods that are below, saying, "This covenant shall stand forever, whatsoever may befall. As sure as this sceptre which I bear--once it was a tree, but a cunning workman closed it in bronze, to be the glory of the Latian kings--shall never again bear twig or leaf, so surely shall this covenant be kept."

But the thing pleased not the Latins; for before, indeed, they judged that the battle would not be equal between two; and now were they the more assured, seeing them when they came together, and that Turnus walked with eyes cast to the ground, and was pale and wan. Wherefore there arose a murmuring among the people, which when Juturna perceived, she took upon herself the likeness of Camertus, who was a prince and a great warrior among them, and passed through the host saying, "Are ye not ashamed, men of Italy, that one man should do battle for you all? For count these men; surely they are scarce one against two. And if he be vanquished, what shame for you! As for him, indeed, though he die, yet shall his glory reach to the heavens; but ye shall suffer disgrace, serving these strangers forever."

And when she saw that the people were moved, she gave also a sign from heaven. For lo! an eagle, that drave a crowd of sea-fowl before him, swooped down to the water, and caught a great swan; and even while the Italians looked, the birds that before had fled turned and pursued the eagle, and drave him before them, so that he dropped the swan and fled away. Which thing when the Italians perceived they shouted, and made them ready for battle. And the augur Tolumnius cried, "This is the token that I have looked for. For this eagle is the stranger, and ye are the birds, which before, indeed, have fled, but shall now make him to flee."