The Aenid by Virgil

An excerpt from Book XII

THE SLAYING OF TURNUS

When Turnus sees the Latins broken and fainting in the thwart issue of war, his promise
claimed for fulfilment, and men's eyes pointed on him, his own spirit rises in
unappeasable flame. As the lion in Phoenician fields, his breast heavily wounded by the
huntsmen, at last starts into arms, and shakes out the shaggy masses from his exultant
neck, and undismayed snaps the brigand's planted weapon, roaring with blood-stained
mouth; even so Turnus kindles and swells in passion. Then he thus addresses the king,
and so furiously begins:
'Turnus stops not the way; there is no excuse for the coward Aeneadae to take back their
words or renounce their compact. I join battle; bring the holy things, my lord, and swear
the treaty. Either this hand shall hurl to hell the Dardanian who skulks from Asia, and the
Latins sit and see my single sword wipe out the nation's reproach; or let him rule his
conquest, and Lavinia pass to his espousal.'
To him Latinus calmly replied: 'O excellent young man! the more thy hot valour
abounds, the more intently must I counsel, and weigh fearfully what may befall. Thou
hast thy father Daunus' realm, hast many towns taken by [Pg 273][23-55]thine hand, nor
is Latinus lacking in gold and goodwill. There are other maidens unwedded in Latium
and Laurentine fields, and of no mean birth. Let me unfold this hard saying in all
sincerity: and do thou drink it into thy soul. I might not ally my daughter to any of her
old wooers; such was the universal oracle of gods and men. Overborne by love for thee,
overborne by kinship of blood and my weeping wife's complaint, I broke all fetters, I
severed the maiden from her promised husband, I took up unrighteous arms. Since then,
Turnus, thou seest what calamities, what wars pursue me, what woes thyself before all
dost suffer. Twice vanquished in pitched battle, we scarce guard in our city walls the
hopes of Italy: the streams of Tiber yet run warm with our blood, and our bones whiten
the boundless plain. Why fall I away again and again? what madness bends my purpose?
if I am ready to take them into alliance after Turnus' destruction, why do I not rather bar
the strife while he lives? What will thy Rutulian kinsmen, will all Italy say, if thy death
—Fortune make void the word!—comes by my betrayal, while thou suest for our
daughter in marriage? Cast a glance on war's changing fortune; pity thine aged father,
who now far away sits sad in his native Ardea.'
In nowise do the words bend Turnus' passion: he rages the more fiercely, and sickens of
the cure. So soon as he found speech he thus made utterance:
'The care thou hast for me, most gracious lord, for me lay down, I implore thee, and let
me purchase honour with death. Our hand too rains weapons, our steel is strong; and our
wounds too draw blood. The goddess his mother will be far from him to cover his flight,
woman-like, in a cloud and an empty phantom's hiding.'
But the queen, dismayed by the new terms of battle, wept, and clung to her fiery son as
one ready to die: [Pg 274][56-89]'Turnus, by these tears, by Amata's regard, if that
touches thee at all—thou art now the one hope, the repose of mine unhappy age; in thine
hand is Latinus' honour and empire, on thee is the weight of all our sinking house—one
thing I beseech thee; forbear to join battle with the Teucrians. What fate soever awaits
thee in the strife thou seekest, it awaits me, Turnus, too: with thee will I leave the hateful
light, nor shall my captive eyes see Aeneas my daughter's lord.' Lavinia tearfully heard
her mother's words with cheeks all aflame, as deep blushes set her face on fire and ran
hotly over it. Even as Indian ivory, if one stain it with sanguine dye, or where white lilies
are red with many a rose amid: such colour came on the maiden's face. Love throws him
into tumult, and stays his countenance on the girl: he burns fiercer for arms, and briefly
answers Amata:
'Do not, I pray thee, do not weep for me, neither pursue me thus ominously as I go to the
stern shock of war. Turnus is not free to dally with death. Thou, Idmon, bear my
message to the Phrygian monarch in this harsh wording: So soon as to-morrow's Dawn
rises in the sky blushing on her crimson wheels, let him not loose Teucrian or Rutulian:
let Teucrian and Rutulian arms have rest, and our blood decide the war; on that field let
Lavinia be sought in marriage.'