He leaves the hilly pass, the woods in vain

- Possess'd, and downward issues on the plain.
Scarce was he gone, when to the straits, now freed
From secret foes, the Trojan troops succeed.
Through the black forest and the ferny brake, 1305
Unknowingly secure, their way they take,

From the rough mountains to the plain descend,
And there, in order drawn, their line extend.
Both armies now in open fields are seen;

Nor far the distance of the space between. 1310
Both to the city bend. Æneas sees,

Through smoking fields, his hast'ning enemies;
And Turnus views the Trojans in array,

And hears th' approaching horses proudly neigh.
Soon had their hosts in bloody battle join'd;
But westward to the sea the sun declin'd.
Intrench'd before the town, both armies lie,
While night with sable wings involves the sky.

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Æ NE ÏS,

BOOK XII,

ARGUMENT.

Turnus challenges Æneas to a single combat: articles are agreed on, but broken by the Rutuli, who wound Æneas. He is miraculously cured by Venus, forces Turnus to a duel, and concludes the poem with his death.

WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quell'd,
Himself become the mark of public spite,
His honour question'd for the promis'd fight-
The more he was with vulgar hate oppress'd,
The more his fury boil'd within his breast:
He rous'd his vigour for the last debate,

And rais'd his haughty soul, to meet his fate.

As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase,

He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace;

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But, if the pointed jav'lin pierce his side,
The lordly beast returns with double pride:
He wrenches out the steel; he roars for pain;
His sides he lashes, and erects his mane :

So Turnus fares his eye-balls flash with fire;
Through his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire.
Trembling with rage, around the court he ran,
At length approach'd the king, and thus began:
"No more excuses or delays: I stand

In arms prepar'd to combat, hand to hand,
This base deserter of his native land.
The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take
The same conditions which himself did make.
Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare,
And to my single virtue trust the war.
The Latians unconcern'd shall see the fight:
This arm unaided shall assert your right:
Then, if my prostrate body press the plain,
To him the crown and beauteous bride remain."

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To whom the king sedately thus reply'd: "Brave youth! the more your valour has been try'd, The more becomes it us, with due respect

To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect.
You want not wealth, or a successive throne,
Or cities which your arms have made your own: $5
My towns and treasures are at your command;

And stor❜d with blooming beauties is my land:
Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees,

Unmarry'd, fair, of noble families.

Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, 40
Things which perhaps may grate a lover's ear,
But sound advice, proceeding from a heart
Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.
The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown,
No prince, Italian born, should heir my throne: 45
Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill'd,
And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal'd.
Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood,
Brib'd by my kindness to my kindred blood,
Urg'd by my wife, who would not be deny'd,
I promis'd my Lavinia for your bride:
Her from her plighted lord by force I took;
All ties of treaties, and of honour, broke:
On your account I wag'd an impious war —
With what success, 'tis needless to declare;

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I and my subjects feel; and you have had your share. Twice vanquish'd while in bloody fields we strive, Scarce in our walls we keep our hopes alive:

The rolling flood runs warm with human gore; 59 The bones of Latians blanch the neighb'ring shore. Why put I not an end to this debate,

Still unresolv'd, and still a slave to fate?

If Turnus' death a lasting peace can give,

Why should I not procure it whilst you live Prod Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray, 65 What would my kinsmen, the Rutulians, say?ponic And, should you fall in fight, (which heav'n defend!) How curse the cause, which hasten'd to his endos The daughter's lover, and the father's friend? Weigh in your mind the various chance of war: 70 Pity your parent's age; and ease his care."

you take

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Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain : The proffer'd med'cine but provok'd the pain. The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief, With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief: "The care, O best of fathers! which For my concerns, at my desire forsake. Permit me not to languish out my days, But make the best exchange of life for praise. This arm, this lance, can well dispute the prize; 80 And the blood follows, where the weapon flies. His goddess mother is not near, to shrowd

The flying coward with an empty cloud."

But now the queen, who fear'd for Turnus' life, And loath'd the hard conditions of the strife, 185 Held him by force; and, dying in his death, In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath: "O Turnus! I adjure thee by these tears,