No More Learning

And lo! suddenly, ominous and wonderful to tell, the milk-white sow, of
one colour with her white brood, is espied through the forest couched on
the green brink; whom to thee, yes to thee, queenly Juno, good Aeneas
offers in sacrifice, and sets with her offspring before thine altar. All
that night long Tiber assuaged his swelling stream, and silently stayed
his refluent wave, smoothing the surface of his waters to the fashion of
still pool and quiet mere, to spare [90-121]labour to the oar. So they
set out and speed on their way with prosperous cries; the painted fir
slides along the waterway; the waves and unwonted woods marvel at their
far-gleaming shields, and the gay hulls afloat on the river. They
outwear a night and a day in rowing, ascend the long reaches, and pass
under the chequered shadows of the trees, and cut through the green
woodland in the calm water. The fiery sun had climbed midway in the
circle of the sky when they see afar fortress walls and scattered house
roofs, where now the might of Rome hath risen high as heaven; then
Evander held a slender state. Quickly they turn their prows to land and
draw near the town.

It chanced on that day the Arcadian king paid his accustomed sacrifice
to the great son of Amphitryon and all the gods in a grove before the
city. With him his son Pallas, with him all the chief of his people and
his poor senate were offering incense, and the blood steamed warm at
their altars. When they saw the high ships, saw them glide up between
the shady woodlands and rest on their silent oars, the sudden sight
appals them, and all at once they rise and stop the banquet. Pallas
courageously forbids them to break off the rites; snatching up a spear,
he flies forward, and from a hillock cries afar: 'O men, what cause hath
driven you to explore these unknown ways? or whither do you steer? What
is your kin, whence your habitation? Is it peace or arms you carry
hither? ' Then from the lofty stern lord Aeneas thus speaks, stretching
forth in his hand an olive bough of peace-bearing:

'Thou seest men born of Troy and arms hostile to the Latins, who have
driven us to flight in insolent warfare. We seek Evander; carry this
message, and tell him that chosen men of the Dardanian captains are come
pleading for an armed alliance. '

Pallas stood amazed at the august name. 'Descend,' [122-154]he cries,
'whoso thou art, and speak with my father face to face, and enter our
home and hospitality. ' And giving him the grasp of welcome, he caught
and clung to his hand. Advancing, they enter the grove and leave the
river. Then Aeneas in courteous words addresses the King:

'Best of the Grecian race, thou whom fortune hath willed that I
supplicate, holding before me boughs dressed in fillets, no fear stayed
me because thou wert a Grecian chief and an Arcadian, or allied by
descent to the twin sons of Atreus. Nay, mine own prowess and the
sanctity of divine oracles, our ancestral kinship, and the fame of thee
that is spread abroad over the earth, have allied me to thee and led me
willingly on the path of fate. Dardanus, who sailed to the Teucrian
land, the first father and founder of the Ilian city, was born, as
Greeks relate, of Electra the Atlantid; Electra's sire is ancient Atlas,
whose shoulder sustains the heavenly spheres. Your father is Mercury,
whom white Maia conceived and bore on the cold summit of Cyllene; but
Maia, if we give any credence to report, is daughter of Atlas, that same
Atlas who bears up the starry heavens; so both our families branch from
a single blood. In this confidence I sent no embassy, I framed no crafty
overtures; myself I have presented mine own person, and come a suppliant
to thy courts. The same Daunian race pursues us and thee in merciless
warfare; we once expelled, they trust nothing will withhold them from
laying all Hesperia wholly beneath their yoke, and holding the seas that
wash it above and below. Accept and return our friendship. We can give
brave hearts in war, high souls and men approved in deeds. '

Aeneas ended. The other ere now scanned in a long gaze the face and eyes
and all the form of the speaker; then thus briefly returns:

'How gladly, bravest of the Teucrians, do I hail and [155-188]own thee!
how I recall thy father's words and the very tone and glance of great
Anchises! For I remember how Priam son of Laomedon, when he sought
Salamis on his way to the realm of his sister Hesione, went on to visit
the cold borders of Arcadia. Then early youth clad my cheeks with bloom.
I admired the Teucrian captains, admired their lord, the son of
Laomedon; but Anchises moved high above them all. My heart burned with
youthful passion to accost him and clasp hand in hand; I made my way to
him, and led him eagerly to Pheneus' high town. Departing he gave me an
adorned quiver and Lycian arrows, a scarf inwoven with gold, and a pair
of golden bits that now my Pallas possesses. Therefore my hand is
already joined in the alliance you seek, and soon as to-morrow's dawn
rises again over earth, I will send you away rejoicing in mine aid, and
supply you from my store. Meanwhile, since you are come hither in
friendship, solemnise with us these yearly rites which we may not defer,
and even now learn to be familiar at your comrades' board. '

This said, he commands the feast and the wine-cups to be replaced whence
they were taken, and with his own hand ranges them on the grassy seat,
and welcomes Aeneas to the place of honour, with a lion's shaggy fell
for cushion and a hospitable chair of maple. Then chosen men with the
priest of the altar in emulous haste bring roasted flesh of bulls, and
pile baskets with the gift of ground corn, and serve the wine. Aeneas
and the men of Troy with him feed on the long chines of oxen and the
entrails of the sacrifice.

After hunger is driven away and the desire of food stayed, King Evander
speaks: 'No idle superstition that knows not the gods of old hath
ordered these our solemn rites, this customary feast, this altar of
august sanctity; saved from bitter perils, O Trojan guest, do we
worship, and [189-225]most due are the rites we inaugurate. Look now
first on this overhanging cliff of stone, where shattered masses lie
strewn, and the mountain dwelling stands desolate, and rocks are rent
away in vast ruin. Here was a cavern, awful and deep-withdrawn,
impenetrable to the sunbeams, where the monstrous half-human shape of
Cacus had his hold: the ground was ever wet with fresh slaughter, and
pallid faces of men, ghastly with gore, hung nailed on the haughty
doors. This monster was the son of Vulcan, and spouted his black fires
from his mouth as he moved in giant bulk. To us also in our desire time
bore a god's aid and arrival. For princely Alcides the avenger came
glorious in the spoils of triple Geryon slain; this way the Conqueror
drove the huge bulls, and his oxen filled the river valley. But savage
Cacus, infatuate to leave nothing undared or unhandled in craft or
crime, drives four bulls of choice shape away from their pasturage, and
as many heifers of excellent beauty. And these, that there should be no
straightforward footprints, he dragged by the tail into his cavern, the
track of their compelled path reversed, and hid them behind the screen
of rock. No marks were there to lead a seeker to the cavern. Meanwhile
the son of Amphitryon, his herds filled with food, was now breaking up
his pasturage and making ready to go. The oxen low as they depart; all
the woodland is filled with their complaint as they clamorously quit the
hills. One heifer returned the cry, and, lowing from the depth of the
dreary cave, baffled the hope of Cacus from her imprisonment. At this
the grief and choler of Alcides blazed forth dark and infuriate. Seizing
in his hand his club of heavy knotted oak, he seeks with swift pace the
aery mountain steep. Then, as never before, did we see Cacus afraid and
his countenance troubled; he goes flying swifter than the wind and seeks
his cavern; fear wings his feet. As he shut himself in, and, bursting
the [226-260]chains, dropped the vast rock slung in iron by his
father's craft, and blocked the doorway with its pressure, lo! the
Tirynthian came in furious wrath, and, scanning all the entry, turned
his face this way and that and ground his teeth. Thrice, hot with rage,
he circles all Mount Aventine; thrice he assails the rocky portals in
vain; thrice he sinks down outwearied in the valley. There stood a sharp
rock of flint with sides cut sheer away, rising over the cavern's ridge
a vast height to see, fit haunt for foul birds to build on. This--for,
sloping from the ridge, it leaned on the left towards the river--he
loosened, urging it from the right till he tore it loose from its deep
foundations; then suddenly shook it free; with the shock the vast sky
thunders, the banks leap apart, and the amazed river recoils. But the
den, Cacus' huge palace, lay open and revealed, and the depths of gloomy
cavern were made manifest; even as though some force tearing earth apart
should unlock the infernal house, and disclose the pallid realms
abhorred of heaven, and deep down the monstrous gulf be descried where
the ghosts flutter in the streaming daylight. On him then, surprised in
unexpected light, shut in the rock's recesses and howling in strange
fashion, Alcides from above hurls missiles and calls all his arms to
aid, and presses hard on him with boughs and enormous millstones. And
he, for none other escape from peril is left, vomits from his throat
vast jets of smoke, wonderful to tell, and enwreathes his dwelling in
blind gloom, blotting view from the eyes, while in the cave's depth
night thickens with smoke-bursts in a darkness shot with fire. Alcides
broke forth in anger, and with a bound hurled himself sheer amid the
flames, where the smoke rolls billowing and voluminous, and the cloud
surges black through the enormous den. Here, as Cacus in the darkness
spouts forth his idle fires, he grasps and twines tight round him, till
his eyes start out and his throat [261-295]is drained of blood under
the strangling pressure. Straightway the doors are torn open and the
dark house laid plain; the stolen oxen and forsworn plunder are shewn
forth to heaven, and the misshapen carcase dragged forward by the feet.
Men cannot satisfy their soul with gazing on the terrible eyes, the
monstrous face and shaggy bristling chest, and the throat with its
quenched fires. Thenceforth this sacrifice is solemnised, and a younger
race have gladly kept the day; Potitius the inaugurator, and the
Pinarian family, guardians of the rites of Hercules, have set in the
grove this altar, which shall ever be called of us Most Mighty, and
shall be our mightiest evermore. Wherefore arise, O men, and enwreathe
your hair with leafy sprays, and stretch forth the cups in your hands;
call on our common god and pour the glad wine. ' He ended; when the
twy-coloured poplar of Hercules hid his shaded hair with pendulous
plaited leaf, and the sacred goblet filled his hand. Speedily all pour
glad libation on the board, and supplicate the gods.

Meanwhile the evening star draws nigher down the slope of heaven, and
now the priests went forth, Potitius at their head, girt with skins
after their fashion, and bore torches aflame. They renew the banquet,
and bring the grateful gift of a second repast, and heap the altars with
loaded platters. Then the Salii stand round the lit altar-fires to sing,
their brows bound with poplar boughs, one chorus of young men, one of
elders, and extol in song the praises and deeds of Hercules; how first
he strangled in his gripe the twin terrors, the snakes of his
stepmother; how he likewise shattered in war famous cities, Troy and
Oechalia; how under Eurystheus the King he bore the toil of a thousand
labours by Juno's malign decrees. Thine hand, unconquered, slays the
cloud-born double-bodied race, Hylaeus and Pholus, the Cretan monster,
and the huge lion in the hollow Nemean rock. Before thee the Stygian
pools [296-329]shook for fear, before thee the warder of hell, couched
on half-gnawn bones in his blood-stained cavern; to thee not any form
was terrible, not Typhoeus' self towering in arms; thou wast not bereft
of counsel when the snake of Lerna encompassed thee with thronging
heads. Hail, true seed of Jove, deified glory! graciously visit us and
these thy rites with favourable feet. Such are their songs of praise;
they crown all with the cavern of Cacus and its fire-breathing lord. All
the woodland echoes with their clamour, and the hills resound.

Thence all at once, the sacred rites accomplished, retrace their way to
the city. The age-worn King walked holding Aeneas and his son by his
side for companions on his way, and lightened the road with changing
talk. Aeneas admires and turns his eyes lightly round about, pleased
with the country; and gladly on spot after spot inquires and hears of
the memorials of earlier men. Then King Evander, founder of the fortress
of Rome:

'In these woodlands dwelt Fauns and Nymphs sprung of the soil, and a
tribe of men born of stocks and hard oak; who had neither law nor grace
of life, nor did they know to yoke bulls or lay up stores or save their
gains, but were nurtured by the forest boughs and the hard living of the
huntsman. Long ago Saturn came from heaven on high in flight before
Jove's arms, an exile from his lost realm. He gathered together the
unruly race scattered on the mountain heights, and gave them statutes,
and chose Latium to be their name, since in these borders he had found a
safe hiding-place. Beneath his reign were the ages named of gold; thus,
in peace and quietness, did he rule the nations; till gradually there
crept in a sunken and stained time, the rage of war, and the lust of
possession. Then came the Ausonian clan and the tribes of Sicania, and
many a time the land of Saturn put away her name. Then were kings,
[330-364]and fierce Thybris with his giant bulk, from whose name we of
Italy afterwards called the Tiber river, when it lost the true name of
old, Albula. Me, cast out from my country and following the utmost
limits of the sea, Fortune the omnipotent and irreversible doom settled
in this region; and my mother the Nymph Carmentis' awful warnings and
Apollo's divine counsel drove me hither. '

Scarce was this said; next advancing he points out the altar and the
Carmental Gate, which the Romans call anciently by that name in honour
of the Nymph Carmentis, seer and soothsayer, who sang of old the coming
greatness of the Aeneadae and the glory of Pallanteum. Next he points
out the wide grove where valiant Romulus set his sanctuary, and the
Lupercal in the cool hollow of the rock, dedicate to Lycean Pan after
the manner of Parrhasia. Therewithal he shows the holy wood of
Argiletum, and calls the spot to witness as he tells the slaying of his
guest Argus. Hence he leads him to the Tarpeian house, and the Capitol
golden now, of old rough with forest thickets. Even then men trembled
before the wood and rock. 'This grove,' he cries, 'this hill with its
leafy crown, is a god's dwelling, though whose we know not; the
Arcadians believe Jove himself hath been visible, when often he shook
the darkening aegis in his hand and gathered the storm-clouds. Thou
seest these two towns likewise with walls overthrown, relics and
memorials of men of old. This fortress lord Janus built, this Saturn;
the name of this was once Janiculum, of that Saturnia. '

With such mutual words they drew nigh the house of poor Evander, and saw
scattered herds lowing on the Roman Forum and down the gay Carinae. When
they reached his dwelling, 'This threshold,' he cries, 'Alcides the
Conqueror stooped to cross; in this palace he rested. Dare thou, my
guest, to despise riches; mould thyself to [365-396]like dignity of
godhead, and come not exacting to our poverty. ' He spoke, and led tall
Aeneas under the low roof of his narrow dwelling, and laid him on a
couch of stuffed leaves and the skin of a Libyan she-bear. Night falls
and clasps the earth in her dusky wings.

But Venus, stirred in spirit by no vain mother's alarms, and moved by
the threats and stern uprisal of the Laurentines, addresses herself to
Vulcan, and in her golden bridal chamber begins thus, breathing divine
passion in her speech:

'While Argolic kings wasted in war the doomed towers of Troy, the
fortress fated to fall in hostile fires, no succour did I require for
her wretched people, no weapons of thine art and aid: nor would I task,
dear my lord, thee or thy toils for naught, though I owed many and many
a debt to the children of Priam, and had often wept the sore labour of
Aeneas. Now by Jove's commands he hath set foot in the Rutulian borders;
I now therefore come with entreaty, and ask armour of the god I worship.
For the son she bore, the tears of Nereus' daughter, of Tithonus'
consort, could melt thine heart. Look what nations are gathering, what
cities bar their gates and sharpen the sword against me for the
desolation of my children. '

The goddess ended, and, as he hesitates, clasps him round in the soft
embrace of her snowy arms. He suddenly caught the wonted flame, and the
heat known of old pierced him to the heart and overran his melting
frame: even as when, bursting from the thunder peal, a sparkling cleft
of fire shoots through the storm-clouds with dazzling light. His consort
knew, rejoiced in her wiles, and felt her beauty. Then her lord speaks,
enchained by Love the immortal:

'Why these far-fetched pleas? Whither, O goddess, is thy trust in me
gone? Had like distress been thine, [397-431]even then we might
unblamed have armed thy Trojans, nor did doom nor the Lord omnipotent
forbid Troy to stand, and Priam to survive yet ten other years. And now,
if thou purposest war, and this is thy counsel, whatever charge I can
undertake in my craft, in aught that may be made of iron or molten
electrum, whatever fire and air can do, cease thou to entreat as
doubtful of thy strength. ' These words spoken, he clasped his wife in
the desired embrace, and, sinking in her lap, wooed quiet slumber to
overspread his limbs.

Thereon, so soon as sleep, now in mid-career of waning night, had given
rest and gone; soon as a woman, whose task is to sustain life with her
distaff and the slender labours of the loom, kindles the ashes of her
slumbering fire, her toil encroaching on the night, and sets a long task
of fire-lit spinning to her maidens, that so she may keep her husband's
bed unsullied and nourish her little children,--even so the Lord of
Fire, nor slacker in his hours than she, rises from his soft couch to
the work of his smithy. An island rises by the side of Sicily and
Aeolian Lipare, steep with smoking cliffs, whereunder the vaulted and
thunderous Aetnean caverns are hollowed out for Cyclopean forges, the
strong strokes on the anvils echo in groans, ore of steel hisses in the
vaults, and the fire pants in the furnaces: the house of Vulcan, and
Vulcania the land's name. Hither now the Lord of Fire descends from
heaven's height. In the vast cavern the Cyclopes were forging iron,
Brontes and Steropes and Pyracmon with bared limbs. Shaped in their
hands was a thunderbolt, in part already polished, such as the Father of
Heaven hurls down on earth in multitudes, part yet unfinished. Three
coils of frozen rain, three of watery mist they had enwrought in it,
three of ruddy fire and winged south wind; now they were mingling in
their work the awful splendours, the sound and terror, and the
[432-469]angry pursuing flames. Elsewhere they hurried on a chariot for
Mars with flying wheels, wherewith he stirs up men and cities; and
burnished the golden serpent-scales of the awful aegis, the armour of
wrathful Pallas, and the entwined snakes on the breast of the goddess,
the Gorgon head with severed neck and rolling eyes. 'Away with all! ' he
cries: 'stop your tasks unfinished, Cyclopes of Aetna, and attend to
this; a warrior's armour must be made. Now must strength, now quickness
of hand be tried, now all our art lend her guidance. Fling off delay. '
He spoke no more; but they all bent rapidly to the work, allotting their
labours equally. Brass and ore of gold flow in streams, and wounding
steel is molten in the vast furnace. They shape a mighty shield, to
receive singly all the weapons of the Latins, and weld it sevenfold,
circle on circle. Some fill and empty the windy bellows of their blast,
some dip the hissing brass in the trough. They raise their arms mightily
in responsive time, and turn the mass of metal about in the grasp of
their tongs.

While the lord of Lemnos is busied thus in the borders of Aeolia,
Evander is roused from his low dwelling by the gracious daylight and the
matin songs of birds from the eaves. The old man arises, and draws on
his body raiment, and ties the Tyrrhene shoe latchets about his feet;
then buckles to his side and shoulder his Tegeaean sword, and swathes
himself in a panther skin that droops upon his left. Therewithal two
watch-dogs go before him from the high threshold, and accompany their
master's steps. The hero sought his guest Aeneas in the privacy of his
dwelling, mindful of their talk and his promised bounty. Nor did Aeneas
fail to be astir with the dawn. With the one went his son Pallas,
with the other Achates. They meet and clasp hands, and, sitting down
within the house, at length enjoy unchecked converse. The King begins
thus: . . .

[470-505]'Princely chief of the Teucrians, in whose lifetime I will
never allow the state or realm of Troy vanquished, our strength is scant
to succour in war for so great a name. On this side the Tuscan river
shuts us in; on that the Rutulian drives us hard, and thunders in arms
about our walls. But I purpose to unite to thee mighty peoples and the
camp of a wealthy realm; an unforeseen chance offers this for thy
salvation. Fate summons thy approach. Not far from here stands fast
Agylla city, an ancient pile of stone, where of old the Lydian race,
eminent in war, settled on the Etruscan ridges. For many years it
flourished, till King Mezentius ruled it with insolent sway and armed
terror. Why should I relate the horrible murders, the savage deeds of
the monarch? May the gods keep them in store for himself and his line!
Nay, he would even link dead bodies to living, fitting hand to hand and
face to face (the torture! ), and in the oozy foulness and corruption of
the dreadful embrace so slay them by a lingering death. But at last his
citizens, outwearied by his mad excesses, surround him and his house in
arms, cut down his comrades, and hurl fire on his roof. Amid the
massacre he escaped to the refuge of Rutulian land and the armed defence
of Turnus' friendship. So all Etruria hath risen in righteous fury, and
in immediate battle claim their king for punishment. Over these
thousands will I make thee chief, O Aeneas; for their noisy ships crowd
all the shore, and they bid the standards advance, while the aged
diviner stays them with prophecies: "O chosen men of Maeonia, flower and
strength of them, of old time, whom righteous anger urges on the enemy,
and Mezentius inflames with deserved wrath, to no Italian is it
permitted to hold this great nation in control: choose foreigners to
lead you. " At that, terrified by the divine warning, the Etruscan lines
have encamped on the plain; Tarchon himself hath sent ambassadors to me
with the crown [506-539]and sceptre of the kingdom, and offers the
royal attire will I but enter their camp and take the Tyrrhene realm.
But old age, frozen to dulness, and exhausted with length of life,
denies me the load of empire, and my prowess is past its day. I would
urge it on my son, did not the mixture of blood by his Sabellian mother
make this half his native land. Thou, to whose years and race alike the
fates extend their favour, on whom fortune calls, enter thou in, a
leader supreme in bravery over Teucrians and Italians. Mine own Pallas
likewise, our hope and comfort, I will send with thee; let him grow used
to endure warfare and the stern work of battle under thy teaching, to
regard thine actions, and from his earliest years look up to thee. To
him will I give two hundred Arcadian cavalry, the choice of our warlike
strength, and Pallas as many more to thee in his own name. '

Scarce had he ended; Aeneas, son of Anchises, and trusty Achates gazed
with steadfast face, and, sad at heart, were revolving inly many a
labour, had not the Cytherean sent a sign from the clear sky. For
suddenly a flash and peal comes quivering from heaven, and all seemed in
a moment to totter, and the Tyrrhene trumpet-blast to roar along the
sky. They look up; again and yet again the heavy crash re-echoes. They
see in the serene space of sky armour gleam red through a cloud in the
clear air, and ring clashing out. The others stood in amaze; but the
Trojan hero knew the sound for the promise of his goddess mother; then
he speaks: 'Ask not, O friend, ask not in any wise what fortune this
presage announces; it is I who am summoned of heaven. This sign the
goddess who bore me foretold she would send if war assailed, and would
bring through the air to my succour armour from Vulcan's hands. . . .
Ah, what slaughter awaits the wretched Laurentines! what a price, O
Turnus, wilt thou pay me! how many shields and helmets and brave bodies
of men shalt thou, [540-573]Lord Tiber, roll under thy waves! Let them
call for armed array and break the league! '

These words uttered, he rises from the high seat, and first wakes with
fresh fire the slumbering altars of Hercules, and gladly draws nigh his
tutelar god of yesternight and the small deities of the household. Alike
Evander, and alike the men of Troy, offer up, as is right, choice sheep
of two years old. Thereafter he goes to the ships and revisits his crew,
of whose company he chooses the foremost in valour to attend him to war;
the rest glide down the water and float idly with the descending stream,
to come with news to Ascanius of his father's state. They give horses to
the Teucrians who seek the fields of Tyrrhenia; a chosen one is brought
for Aeneas, housed in a tawny lion skin that glitters with claws of
gold. Rumour flies suddenly, spreading over the little town, that they
ride in haste to the courts of the Tyrrhene king. Mothers redouble their
prayers in terror, as fear treads closer on peril and the likeness of
the War God looms larger in sight. Then Evander, clasping the hand of
his departing son, clings to him weeping inconsolably, and speaks thus:

'Oh, if Jupiter would restore me the years that are past, as I was when,
close under Praeneste, I cut down their foremost ranks and burned the
piled shields of the conquered! Then this right hand sent King Erulus
down to hell, though to him at his birth his mother Feronia (awful to
tell) had given three lives and triple arms to wield; thrice must he be
laid low in death; yet then this hand took all his lives and as often
stripped him of his arms. Never should I now, O son, be severed from thy
dear embrace; never had the insolent sword of Mezentius on my borders
dealt so many cruel deaths, widowed the city of so many citizens. But
you, O heavenly powers, and thou, Jupiter, Lord and Governor of Heaven,
have compassion, I pray, on [574-609]the Arcadian king, and hear a
father's prayers. If your deity and decrees keep my Pallas safe for me,
if I live that I may see him and meet him yet, I pray for life; any toil
soever I have patience to endure. But if, O Fortune, thou threatenest
some dread calamity, now, ah now, may I break off a cruel life, while
anxiety still wavers and expectation is in doubt, while thou, dear boy,
my one last delight, art yet clasped in my embrace; let no bitterer
message wound mine ear. ' These words the father poured forth at the
final parting; his servants bore him swooning within.

And now the cavalry had issued from the open gates, Aeneas and trusty
Achates among the foremost, then other of the Trojan princes, Pallas
conspicuous amid the column in scarf and inlaid armour; like the Morning
Star, when, newly washed in the ocean wave, he shews his holy face in
heaven, and melts the darkness away. Fearful mothers stand on the walls
and follow with their eyes the cloud of dust and the squadrons gleaming
in brass. They, where the goal of their way lies nearest, bear through
the brushwood in armed array. Forming in column, they advance noisily,
and the horse hoof shakes the crumbling plain with four-footed
trampling. There is a high grove by the cold river of Caere, widely
revered in ancestral awe; sheltering hills shut it in all about and
girdle the woodland with their dark firs. Rumour is that the old
Pelasgians, who once long ago held the Latin borders, consecrated the
grove and its festal day to Silvanus, god of the tilth and flock. Not
far from it Tarchon and his Tyrrhenians were encamped in a protected
place; and now from the hill-top the tents of all their army might be
seen outspread on the fields. Lord Aeneas and his chosen warriors draw
hither and refresh their weary horses and limbs.

But Venus the white goddess drew nigh, bearing her gifts through the
clouds of heaven; and when she saw her [610-646]son withdrawn far apart
in the valley's recess by the cold river, cast herself in his way, and
addressed him thus: 'Behold perfected the presents of my husband's
promised craftsmanship: so shalt thou not shun, O my child, soon to
challenge the haughty Laurentines or fiery Turnus to battle. ' The
Cytherean spoke, and sought her son's embrace, and laid the armour
glittering under an oak over against him. He, rejoicing in the
magnificence of the goddess' gift, cannot have his fill of turning his
eyes over it piece by piece, and admires and handles between his arms
the helmet, dread with plumes and spouting flame, as when a blue cloud
takes fire in the sunbeams and gleams afar; then the smooth greaves of
electrum and refined gold, the spear, and the shield's ineffable design.
There the Lord of Fire had fashioned the story of Italy and the triumphs
of the Romans, not witless of prophecy or ignorant of the age to be;
there all the race of Ascanius' future seed, and their wars fought one
by one.
Likewise had he fashioned the she-wolf couched after the birth
in the green cave of Mars; round her teats the twin boys hung playing,
and fearlessly mouthed their foster-mother; she, with round neck bent
back, stroked them by turns and shaped their bodies with her tongue.
Thereto not far from this he had set Rome and the lawless rape of the
Sabines in the concourse of the theatre when the great Circensian games
were celebrated, and a fresh war suddenly arising between the people of
Romulus and aged Tatius and austere Cures. Next these same kings laid
down their mutual strife and stood armed before Jove's altar with cup in
hand, and joined treaty over a slain sow. Not far from there four-horse
chariots driven apart had torn Mettus asunder (but thou, O Alban,
shouldst have kept by thy words! ), and Tullus tore the flesh of the liar
through the forest, his splashed blood dripping from the briars.
Therewithal Porsena commanded [647-681]to admit the exiled Tarquin, and
held the city in the grasp of a strong blockade; the Aeneadae rushed on
the sword for liberty. Him thou couldst espy like one who chafes and
like one who threatens, because Cocles dared to tear down the bridge,
and Cloelia broke her bonds and swam the river. Highest of all Manlius,
warder of the Tarpeian fortress, stood with the temple behind him and
held the high Capitoline; and the thatch of Romulus' palace stood rough
and fresh. And here the silver goose, fluttering in the gilded
colonnades, cried that the Gauls were there on the threshold. The Gauls
were there among the brushwood, hard on the fortress, secure in the
darkness and the dower of shadowy night. Their clustering locks are of
gold, and of gold their attire; their striped cloaks glitter, and their
milk-white necks are entwined with gold. Two Alpine pikes sparkle in the
hand of each, and long shields guard their bodies. Here he had embossed
the dancing Salii and the naked Luperci, the crests wreathed in wool,
and the sacred shields that fell from heaven; in cushioned cars the
virtuous matrons led on their rites through the city. Far hence he adds
the habitations of hell also, the high gates of Dis and the dooms of
guilt; and thee, O Catiline, clinging on the beetling rock, and
shuddering at the faces of the Furies; and far apart the good, and Cato
delivering them statutes. Amidst it all flows wide the likeness of the
swelling sea, wrought in gold, though the foam surged gray upon blue
water; and round about dolphins, in shining silver, swept the seas with
their tails in circle as they cleft the tide. In the centre were visible
the brazen war-fleets of Actium; thou mightest see all Leucate swarm in
embattled array, and the waves gleam with gold. Here Caesar Augustus,
leading Italy to battle with Fathers and People, with gods of household
and of state, stands on the lofty stern; prosperous flames jet round his
brow, and his [682-715]ancestral star dawns overhead. Elsewhere
Agrippa, with favouring winds and gods, proudly leads on his column; on
his brows glitters the prow-girt naval crown, the haughty emblazonment
of the war. Here Antonius with barbarian aid and motley arms, from the
conquered nations of the Dawn and the shore of the southern sea, carries
with him Egypt and the Eastern forces of utmost Bactra, and the shameful
Egyptian woman goes as his consort. All at once rush on, and the whole
ocean is torn into foam by straining oars and triple-pointed prows. They
steer to sea; one might think that the Cyclades were uptorn and floated
on the main, or that lofty mountains clashed with mountains, so mightily
do their crews urge on the turreted ships. Flaming tow and the winged
steel of darts shower thickly from their hands; the fields of ocean
redden with fresh slaughter. Midmost the Queen calls on her squadron
with the timbrel of her country, nor yet casts back a glance on the twin
snakes behind her. Howling Anubis, and gods monstrous and multitudinous,
level their arms against Neptune and Venus and against Minerva; Mars
rages amid the havoc, graven in iron, and the Fatal Sisters hang aloft,
and Discord strides rejoicing with garment rent, and Bellona attends her
with blood-stained scourge. Looking thereon, Actian Apollo above drew
his bow; with the terror of it all Egypt and India, every Arab and
Sabaean, turned back in flight. The Queen herself seemed to call the
winds and spread her sails, and even now let her sheets run slack. Her
the Lord of Fire had fashioned amid the carnage, wan with the shadow of
death, borne along by the waves and the north-west wind; and over
against her the vast bulk of mourning Nile, opening out his folds and
calling with all his raiment the conquered people into his blue lap and
the coverture of his streams. But Caesar rode into the city of Rome in
triple triumph, and dedicated his vowed [716-731]offering to the gods
to stand for ever, three hundred stately shrines all about the city. The
streets were loud with gladness and games and shouting. In all the
temples was a band of matrons, in all were altars, and before the altars
slain steers strewed the ground. Himself he sits on the snowy threshold
of Phoebus the bright, reviews the gifts of the nations and ranges them
on the haughty doors. The conquered tribes move in long line, diverse as
in tongue, so in fashion of dress and armour. Here Mulciber had designed
the Nomad race and the ungirt Africans, here the Leleges and Carians and
archer Gelonians. Euphrates went by now with smoother waves, and the
Morini utmost of men, and the horned Rhine, the untamed Dahae, and
Araxes chafing under his bridge.

These things he admires on the shield of Vulcan, his mother's gift, and
rejoicing in the portraiture of unknown history, lifts on his shoulder
the destined glories of his children.




BOOK NINTH

THE SIEGE OF THE TROJAN CAMP


And while thus things pass far in the distance, Juno daughter of Saturn
sent Iris down the sky to gallant Turnus, then haply seated in his
forefather Pilumnus' holy forest dell. To him the child of Thaumas spoke
thus with roseate lips:

'Turnus, what no god had dared promise to thy prayer, behold, is brought
unasked by the circling day. Aeneas hath quitted town and comrades and
fleet to seek Evander's throne and Palatine dwelling-place. Nor is it
enough; he hath pierced to Corythus' utmost cities, and is mustering in
arms a troop of Lydian rustics. Why hesitate? now, now is the time to
call for chariot and horses. Break through all hindrance and seize the
bewildered camp. '

She spoke, and rose into the sky on poised wings, and flashed under the
clouds in a long flying bow. He knew her, and lifting either hand to
heaven, with this cry pursued her flight: 'Iris, grace of the sky, who
hath driven thee down the clouds to me and borne thee to earth? Whence
is this sudden sheen of weather? I see the sky parting asunder, and the
wandering stars in the firmament. I follow the high omen, whoso thou art
that callest me to arms. ' And with these words he drew nigh the wave,
and [23-58]caught up water from its brimming eddy, making many prayers
to the gods and burdening the air with vows.

And now all the army was advancing on the open plain, rich in horses,
rich in raiment of broidered gold. Messapus rules the foremost ranks,
the sons of Tyrrheus the rear. Turnus commands the centre: even as
Ganges rising high in silence when his seven streams are still, or the
rich flood of Nile when he ebbs from the plains, and is now sunk into
his channel. On this the Teucrians descry a sudden cloud of dark dust
gathering, and the blackness rising on the plain. Caicus raises a cry
from the mound in front: 'What mass of misty gloom, O citizens, is
rolling hitherward? to arms in haste! serve out weapons, climb the
walls. The enemy approaches, ho! ' With mighty clamour the Teucrians pour
in through all the gates and fill the works. For so at his departure
Aeneas the great captain had enjoined; were aught to chance meanwhile,
they should not venture to range their line or trust the plain, but keep
their camp and the safety of the entrenched walls. So, though shame and
wrath beckon them on to battle, they yet bar the gates and do his
bidding, and await the foe armed and in shelter of the towers. Turnus,
who had flown forward in advance of his tardy column, comes up suddenly
to the town with a train of twenty chosen cavalry, borne on a Thracian
horse dappled with white, and covered by a golden helmet with scarlet
plume. 'Who will be with me, my men, to be first on the foe? See! ' he
cries; and sends a javelin spinning into the air to open battle, and
advances towering on the plain. His comrades take up the cry, and follow
with dreadful din, wondering at the Teucrians' coward hearts, that they
issue not on even field nor face them in arms, but keep in shelter of
the camp. Hither and thither he rides furiously, tracing the walls, and
seeking entrance where way is none. And as a wolf prowling [59-92]about
some crowded sheepfold, when, beaten sore of winds and rains, he howls
at the pens by midnight; safe beneath their mothers the lambs keep
bleating on; he, savage and insatiate, rages in anger against the flock
he cannot reach, tired by the long-gathering madness for food, and the
throat unslaked with blood: even so the Rutulian, as he gazes on the
walled camp, kindles in anger, and indignation is hot in his iron frame.
By what means may he essay entrance? by what passage hurl the imprisoned
Trojans from the rampart and fling them on the plain? Close under the
flanking camp lay the fleet, fenced about with mounds and the waters of
the river; it he attacks, and calls for fire to his exultant comrades,
and eagerly catches a blazing pine-torch in his hand. Then indeed they
press on, quickened by Turnus' presence, and all the band arm them with
black faggots. The hearth-fires are plundered; the smoky brand trails a
resinous glare, and the Fire-god sends clouds of glowing ashes upward.

What god, O Muses, guarded the Trojans from the rage of the fire? who
repelled the fierce flame from their ships? Tell it; ancient is the
assurance thereof, but the fame everlasting. What time Aeneas began to
shape his fleet on Phrygian Ida, and prepared to seek the high seas, the
Berecyntian, they say, the very Mother of gods, spoke to high Jove in
these words: 'Grant, O son, to my prayer, what her dearness claims who
bore thee and laid Olympus under thy feet. My pine forest beloved of me
these many years, my grove was on the mountain's crown, whither men bore
my holy things, dim with dusky pine and pillared maples. These, when he
required a fleet, I gave gladly to the Dardanian; now fear wrings me
with sharp distress. Relieve my terrors, and grant a mother's prayers
such power that they may yield to no stress of voyaging or of stormy
gust: be birth on our hills their avail. '

[93-126]Thus her son in answer, who wheels the starry worlds: 'O
mother, whither callest thou fate? or what dost thou seek for these of
thine? May hulls have the right of immortality that were fashioned by
mortal hand? and may Aeneas traverse perils secure in insecurity? To
what god is power so great given? Nay, but when, their duty done, they
shall lie at last in their Ausonian haven, from all that have outgone
the waves and borne their Dardanian captain to the fields of Laurentum,
will I take their mortal body, and bid them be goddesses of the mighty
deep, even as Doto the Nereid and Galatea, when they cut the sea that
falls away from their breasts in foam. ' He ended; and by his brother's
Stygian streams, by the banks of the pitchy black-boiling chasm he
nodded confirmation, and shook all Olympus with his nod.

So the promised day was come, and the destinies had fulfilled their due
time, when Turnus' injury stirred the Mother to ward the brands from her
holy ships. First then a strange light flashed on all eyes, and a great
glory from the Dawn seemed to dart over the sky, with the choirs of Ida;
then an awful voice fell through air, filling the Trojan and Rutulian
ranks: 'Disquiet not yourselves, O Teucrians, to guard ships of mine,
neither arm your hands: sooner shall Turnus burn the seas than these
holy pines. You, go free; go, goddesses of the sea; the Mother bids it. '
And immediately each ship breaks the bond that held it, as with dipping
prows they plunge like dolphins deep into the water: from it again (O
wonderful and strange! ) they rise with maidens' faces in like number,
and bear out to sea.

The Rutulians stood dumb: Messapus himself is terror-stricken among his
disordered cavalry; even the stream of Tiber pauses with hoarse murmur,
and recoils from sea. But bold Turnus fails not a whit in confidence;
nay, he [127-158]raises their courage with words, nay, he chides them:
'On the Trojans are these portents aimed; Jupiter himself hath bereft
them of their wonted succour; nor do they abide Rutulian sword and fire.
So are the seas pathless for the Teucrians, nor is there any hope in
flight; they have lost half their world. And we hold the land: in all
their thousands the nations of Italy are under arms. In no wise am I
dismayed by those divine oracles of doom the Phrygians insolently
advance. Fate and Venus are satisfied, in that the Trojans have touched
our fruitful Ausonian fields. I too have my fate in reply to theirs, to
put utterly to the sword the guilty nation who have robbed me of my
bride; not the sons of Atreus alone are touched by that pain, nor may
Mycenae only rise in arms. But to have perished once is enough! To have
sinned once should have been enough, in all but utter hatred of the
whole of womankind. Trust in the sundering rampart, and the hindrance of
their trenches, so little between them and death, gives these their
courage: yet have they not seen Troy town, the work of Neptune's hand,
sink into fire? But you, my chosen, who of you makes ready to breach
their palisade at the sword's point, and join my attack on their
fluttered camp? I have no need of Vulcanian arms, of a thousand ships,
to meet the Teucrians. All Etruria may join on with them in alliance:
nor let them fear the darkness, and the cowardly theft of their
Palladium, and the guards cut down on the fortress height. Nor will we
hide ourselves unseen in a horse's belly; in daylight and unconcealed
are we resolved to girdle their walls with flame. Not with Grecians will
I make them think they have to do, nor a Pelasgic force kept off till
the tenth year by Hector. Now, since the better part of day is spent,
for what remains refresh your bodies, glad that we have done so well,
and expect the order of battle. '

[159-192]Meanwhile charge is given to Messapus to blockade the gates
with pickets of sentries, and encircle the works with watchfires. Twice
seven are chosen to guard the walls with Rutulian soldiery; but each
leads an hundred men, crimson-plumed and sparkling in gold. They spread
themselves about and keep alternate watch, and, lying along the grass,
drink deep and set brazen bowls atilt. The fires glow, and the sentinels
spend the night awake in games. . . .

Down on this the Trojans look forth from the rampart, as they hold the
height in arms; withal in fearful haste they try the gates and lay
gangways from bastion to bastion, and bring up missiles. Mnestheus and
valiant Serestus speed the work, whom lord Aeneas appointed, should
misfortune call, to be rulers of the people and governors of the state.
All their battalions, sharing the lot of peril, keep watch along the
walls, and take alternate charge of all that requires defence.

On guard at the gate was Nisus son of Hyrtacus, most valiant in arms,
whom Ida the huntress had sent in Aeneas' company with fleet javelin and
light arrows; and by his side Euryalus, fairest of all the Aeneadae and
the wearers of Trojan arms, showing on his unshaven boy's face the first
bloom of youth. These two were one in affection, and charged in battle
together; now likewise their common guard kept the gate. Nisus cries:
'Lend the gods this fervour to the soul, Euryalus? or does fatal passion
become a proper god to each? Long ere now my soul is restless to begin
some great deed of arms, and quiet peace delights it not. Thou seest how
confident in fortune the Rutulians stand. Their lights glimmer far
apart; buried in drunken sleep they have sunk to rest; silence stretches
all about. Learn then what doubt, what purpose, now rises in my spirit.
People and senate, they all cry that Aeneas [193-226]be summoned, and
men be sent to carry him tidings. If they promise what I ask in thy
name--for to me the glory of the deed is enough--methinks I can find
beneath yonder hillock a path to the walls of Pallanteum town. '

Euryalus stood fixed, struck through with high ambition, and therewith
speaks thus to his fervid friend: 'Dost thou shun me then, Nisus, to
share thy company in highest deeds? shall I send thee alone into so
great perils? Not thus did my warrior father Opheltes rear and nurture
me amid the Argive terror and the agony of Troy, nor thus have I borne
myself by thy side while following noble Aeneas to his utmost fate. Here
is a spirit, yes here, that scorns the light of day, that deems lightly
bought at a life's price that honour to which thou dost aspire. '

To this Nisus: 'Assuredly I had no such fear of thee; no, nor could I;
so may great Jupiter, or whoso looks on earth with equal eyes, restore
me to thee triumphant. But if haply--as thou seest often and often in so
forlorn a hope--if haply chance or deity sweep me to adverse doom, I
would have thee survive; thine age is worthier to live. Be there one to
commit me duly to earth, rescued or ransomed from the battlefield: or,
if fortune deny that, to pay me far away the rites of funeral and the
grace of a tomb. Neither would I bring such pain on thy poor mother, she
who singly of many matrons hath dared to follow her boy to the end, and
slights great Acestes' city. '

And he: 'In vain dost thou string idle reasons; nor does my purpose
yield or change its place so soon. Let us make haste. ' He speaks, and
rouses the watch; they come up, and relieve the guard; quitting their
post, he and Nisus stride on to seek the prince.

The rest of living things over all lands were soothing their cares in
sleep, and their hearts forgot their pain; the foremost Trojan captains,
a chosen band, held council [227-261]of state upon the kingdom; what
should they do, or who would now be their messenger to Aeneas? They
stand, leaning on their long spears and grasping their shields, in mid
level of the camp. Then Nisus and Euryalus together pray with quick
urgency to be given audience; their matter is weighty and will be worth
the delay. Iulus at once heard their hurried plea, and bade Nisus speak.
Thereon the son of Hyrtacus: 'Hear, O people of Aeneas, with favourable
mind, nor regard our years in what we offer. Sunk in sleep and wine, the
Rutulians are silent; we have stealthily spied the open ground that lies
in the path through the gate next the sea. The line of fires is broken,
and their smoke rises darkly upwards. If you allow us to use the chance
towards seeking Aeneas in Pallanteum town, you will soon descry us here
at hand with the spoils of the great slaughter we have dealt. Nor shall
we miss the way we go; up the dim valleys we have seen the skirts of the
town, and learned all the river in continual hunting. '

Thereon aged Aletes, sage in counsel: 'Gods of our fathers, under whose
deity Troy ever stands, not wholly yet do you purpose to blot out the
Trojan race, when you have brought us young honour and hearts so sure as
this. ' So speaking, he caught both by shoulder and hand, with tears
showering down over face and feature. 'What guerdon shall I deem may be
given you, O men, what recompense for these noble deeds? First and
fairest shall be your reward from the gods and your own conduct; and
Aeneas the good shall speedily repay the rest, and Ascanius' fresh youth
never forget so great a service. '--'Nay,' breaks in Ascanius, 'I whose
sole safety is in my father's return, I adjure thee and him, O Nisus, by
our great household gods, by the tutelar spirit of Assaracus and hoar
Vesta's sanctuary--on your knees I lay all my fortune and trust--recall
my father; [262-296]give him back to sight; all sorrow disappears in
his recovery. I will give a pair of cups my father took in vanquished
Arisba, wrought in silver and rough with tracery, twin tripods, and two
large talents of gold, and an ancient bowl of Sidonian Dido's giving. If
it be indeed our lot to possess Italy and grasp a conquering sceptre,
and to assign the spoil; thou sawest the horse and armour of Turnus as
he went all in gold; that same horse, the shield and the ruddy plume,
will I reserve from partition, thy reward, O Nisus, even from now. My
father will give besides twelve mothers of the choicest beauty, and men
captives, all in their due array; above these, the space of meadow-land
that is now King Latinus' own domain. Thee, O noble boy, whom mine age
follows at a nearer interval, even now I welcome to all my heart, and
embrace as my companion in every fortune. No glory shall be sought for
my state without thee; whether peace or war be in conduct, my chiefest
trust for deed and word shall be in thee. '

Answering whom Euryalus speaks thus: 'Let but the day never come to
prove me degenerate from this daring valour; fortune may fall prosperous
or adverse. But above all thy gifts, one thing I ask of thee. My poor
mother of Priam's ancient race, whom neither the Ilian land nor King
Acestes' city kept from following me forth, her I now leave in ignorance
of this danger, such as it is, and without a farewell, because--night
and thine hand be witness! --I cannot bear a parent's tears. But thou, I
pray, support her want and relieve her loneliness. Let me take with me
this hope in thee, I shall go more daringly to every fortune. ' Deeply
stirred at heart, the Dardanians shed tears, fair Iulus before them all,
as the likeness of his own father's love wrung his soul. Then he speaks
thus: . . . 'Assure thyself all that is due to thy mighty enterprise;
[297-330]for she shall be a mother to me, and only in name fail to be
Creusa; nor slight is the honour reserved for the mother of such a son.
What chance soever follow this deed, I swear by this head whereby my
father was wont to swear, what I promise to thee on thy prosperous
return shall abide the same for thy mother and kindred. ' So speaks he
weeping, and ungirds from his shoulder the sword inlaid with gold,
fashioned with marvellous skill by Lycaon of Gnosus and fitly set in a
sheath of ivory. Mnestheus gives Nisus the shaggy spoils of a lion's
hide; faithful Aletes exchanges his helmet. They advance onward in arms,
and as they go all the company of captains, young and old, speed them to
the gates with vows. Likewise fair Iulus, with a man's thought and a
spirit beyond his years, gave many messages to be carried to his father.
But the breezes shred all asunder and give them unaccomplished to the
clouds.

They issue and cross the trenches, and through the shadow of night seek
the fatal camp, themselves first to be the death of many a man. All
about they see bodies strewn along the grass in drunken sleep, chariots
atilt on the shore, the men lying among their traces and wheels, with
their armour by them, and their wine. The son of Hyrtacus began thus:
'Euryalus, now for daring hands; all invites them; here lies our way;
see thou that none raise a hand from behind against us, and keep
far-sighted watch. Here will I deal desolation, and make a broad path
for thee to follow. ' So speaks he and checks his voice; therewith he
drives his sword at lordly Rhamnes, who haply on carpets heaped high was
drawing the full breath of sleep; a king himself, and King Turnus'
best-beloved augur, but not all his augury could avert his doom. Three
of his household beside him, lying carelessly among their arms, and the
armour-bearer and charioteer of Remus go [331-364]down before him,
caught at the horses' feet. Their drooping necks he severs with the
sword, then beheads their lord likewise and leaves the trunk spouting
blood; the dark warm gore soaks ground and cushions. Therewithal Lamyrus
and Lamus, and beautiful young Serranus, who that night had played long
and late, and lay with the conquering god heavy on every limb; happy,
had he played out the night, and carried his game to day! Even thus an
unfed lion riots through full sheepfolds, for the madness of hunger
urges him, and champs and rends the fleecy flock that are dumb with
fear, and roars with blood-stained mouth. Nor less is the slaughter of
Euryalus; he too rages all aflame; an unnamed multitude go down before
his path, and Fadus and Herbesus and Rhoetus and Abaris, unaware;
Rhoetus awake and seeing all, but he hid in fear behind a great bowl;
right in whose breast, as he rose close by, he plunged the sword all its
length, and drew it back heavy with death. He vomits forth the crimson
life-blood, and throws up wine mixed with blood in the death agony. The
other presses hotly on his stealthy errand, and now bent his way towards
Messapus' comrades, where he saw the last flicker of the fires go down,
and the horses tethered in order cropping the grass; when Nisus briefly
speaks thus, for he saw him carried away by excess of murderous desire;
'Let us stop; for unfriendly daylight draws nigh. Vengeance is sated to
the full; a path is cut through the enemy. ' Much they leave behind,
men's armour wrought in solid silver, and bowls therewith, and beautiful
carpets. Euryalus tears away the decorations of Rhamnes and his
sword-belt embossed with gold, a gift which Caedicus, wealthiest of men
of old, sends to Remulus of Tibur when plighting friendship far away; he
on his death-bed gives them to his grandson for his own; after his death
the Rutulians captured them as spoil of war; these he fits on the
shoulders valiant [365-396]in vain, then puts on Messapus' light helmet
with its graceful plumes. They issue from the camp and make for safety.

Meanwhile an advanced guard of cavalry were on their way from the Latin
city, while the rest of their marshalled battalions linger on the
plains, and bore a reply to King Turnus; three hundred men all under
shield, in Volscens' leading. And now they approached the camp and drew
near the wall, when they descry the two turning away by the pathway to
the left; and in the glimmering darkness of night the forgotten helmet
betrayed Euryalus, glittering as it met the light. It seemed no thing of
chance. Volscens cries aloud from his column: 'Stand, men! why on the
march, or how are you in arms? or whither hold you your way? ' They offer
nothing in reply, but quicken their flight into the forest, and throw
themselves on the night. On this side and that the horsemen bar the
familiar crossways, and encircle every outlet with sentinels. The forest
spread wide in tangled thickets and dark ilex; thick growth of briars
choked it all about, and the muffled pathway glimmered in a broken
track. Hampered by the shadowy boughs and his cumbrous spoil, Euryalus
in his fright misses the line of way. Nisus gets clear; and now
unthinkingly he had passed the enemy, and the place afterwards called
Albani from Alba's name; then the deep coverts were of King Latinus'
domain; when he stopped, and looked back in vain for his lost friend.
'Euryalus, unhappy!