At once and
in a moment Arruns heard the whistle of the dart and the resounding air,
as the steel sank in his body.
in a moment Arruns heard the whistle of the dart and the resounding air,
as the steel sank in his body.
Virgil - Aeneid
Haste
away, and carry to Turnus my last message; to take my place in battle,
and repel the Trojans from the town. And now goodbye. ' Even with the
words she dropped the reins and slid to ground unconscious. Then the
unnerving chill overspread her, her neck slackened, her head sank
overpowered by death, and her arms fell, and with a moan the life fled
indignant into the dark. Then indeed an [832-867]infinite cry rises and
smites the golden stars; the battle grows bloodier now Camilla is down;
at once in serried rants all the Teucrian forces pour in, with the
Tyrrhene captains and Evander's Arcadian squadrons.
But Opis, Trivia's sentinel, long ere now sits high on the hill-tops,
gazing on the battle undismayed. And when afar amid the din of angry men
she espied Camilla done woefully to death, she sighed and uttered forth
a deep cry: 'Ah too, too cruel, O maiden, the forfeit thou hast paid for
daring armed attack on the Teucrians! and nothing hath availed thee thy
lonely following of Diana in the woodlands, nor wearing our quiver on
thy shoulder. Yet thy Queen hath not left thee unhonoured now thy latter
end is come; nor will this thy death be unnamed among the nations, nor
shalt thou bear the fame of one unavenged; for whosoever hath sullied
thy body with a wound shall pay death for due. ' Under the mountain
height was a great earthen mound, tomb of Dercennus, a Laurentine king
of old, shrouded in shadowy ilex. Hither the goddess most beautiful
first swoops down, and marks Arruns from the mounded height. As she saw
him glittering in arms and idly exultant: 'Why,' she cries, 'wanderest
thou away? hitherward direct thy steps; come hither to thy doom, to
receive thy fit reward for Camilla. Shalt thou die, and by Diana's
weapons? ' The Thracian spoke, and slid out a fleet arrow from her gilded
quiver, and stretched it level on the bow, and drew it far, till the
curving tips met one another, and now her hands touched in counterpoise,
the left the steel edge, the string in the right her breast.
At once and
in a moment Arruns heard the whistle of the dart and the resounding air,
as the steel sank in his body. His comrades leave him forgotten on the
unknown dust of the plain, moaning his last and gasping his life away;
Opis wings her flight to the skyey heaven.
[868-901]At once the light squadron of Camilla retreat now they have
lost their mistress; the Rutulians retreat in confusion, brave Atinas
retreats. Scattered captains and thinned companies make for safety, and
turn their horses backward to the town. Nor does any avail to make stand
against the swarming death-dealing Teucrians, or bear their shock in
arms; but their unstrung bows droop on their shoulders, and the
four-footed galloping horse-hoof shakes the crumbling plain. The eddying
dust rolls up thick and black towards the walls, and on the watch-towers
mothers beat their breasts and the cries of women rise up to heaven. On
such as first in the rout broke in at the open gates the mingling
hostile throng follows hard; nor do they escape death, alas! but in the
very gateway, within their native city and amid their sheltering homes,
they are pierced through and gasp out their life. Some shut the gates,
and dare not open to their pleading comrades nor receive them in the
town; and a most pitiful slaughter begins between armed men who guard
the entry and others who rush upon their arms. Barred out before their
weeping parents' eyes and faces, some, swept on by the rout, roll
headlong into the trenches; some, blindly rushing with loosened rein,
batter at the gates and stiffly-bolted doorway. The very mothers from
the walls in eager heat (true love of country points the way, when they
see Camilla) dart weapons with shaking hand, and eagerly make hard
stocks of wood and fire-hardened poles serve for steel, and burn to die
among the foremost for their city's sake.
Meanwhile among the forests the terrible news pours in on Turnus, and
Acca brings him news of the mighty invasion; the Volscian lines are
destroyed; Camilla is fallen; the enemy thicken and press on, and have
swept all before them down the tide of battle. Raging he leaves the
hills he had beset--Jove's stern will ordains it [902-915]so--and quits
the rough woodland. Scarcely had he marched out of sight and gained the
plain when lord Aeneas enters the open defiles, surmounts the ridge, and
issues from the dim forest. So both advance swiftly to the town with all
their columns, no long march apart, and at once Aeneas descried afar the
plains all smoking with dust, and saw the Laurentine columns, and Turnus
knew Aeneas terrible in arms, and heard the advancing feet and the
neighing of the horses. And straightway would they join battle and essay
the conflict, but that ruddy Phoebus even now dips his weary coursers in
the Iberian flood, and night draws on over the fading day.
away, and carry to Turnus my last message; to take my place in battle,
and repel the Trojans from the town. And now goodbye. ' Even with the
words she dropped the reins and slid to ground unconscious. Then the
unnerving chill overspread her, her neck slackened, her head sank
overpowered by death, and her arms fell, and with a moan the life fled
indignant into the dark. Then indeed an [832-867]infinite cry rises and
smites the golden stars; the battle grows bloodier now Camilla is down;
at once in serried rants all the Teucrian forces pour in, with the
Tyrrhene captains and Evander's Arcadian squadrons.
But Opis, Trivia's sentinel, long ere now sits high on the hill-tops,
gazing on the battle undismayed. And when afar amid the din of angry men
she espied Camilla done woefully to death, she sighed and uttered forth
a deep cry: 'Ah too, too cruel, O maiden, the forfeit thou hast paid for
daring armed attack on the Teucrians! and nothing hath availed thee thy
lonely following of Diana in the woodlands, nor wearing our quiver on
thy shoulder. Yet thy Queen hath not left thee unhonoured now thy latter
end is come; nor will this thy death be unnamed among the nations, nor
shalt thou bear the fame of one unavenged; for whosoever hath sullied
thy body with a wound shall pay death for due. ' Under the mountain
height was a great earthen mound, tomb of Dercennus, a Laurentine king
of old, shrouded in shadowy ilex. Hither the goddess most beautiful
first swoops down, and marks Arruns from the mounded height. As she saw
him glittering in arms and idly exultant: 'Why,' she cries, 'wanderest
thou away? hitherward direct thy steps; come hither to thy doom, to
receive thy fit reward for Camilla. Shalt thou die, and by Diana's
weapons? ' The Thracian spoke, and slid out a fleet arrow from her gilded
quiver, and stretched it level on the bow, and drew it far, till the
curving tips met one another, and now her hands touched in counterpoise,
the left the steel edge, the string in the right her breast.
At once and
in a moment Arruns heard the whistle of the dart and the resounding air,
as the steel sank in his body. His comrades leave him forgotten on the
unknown dust of the plain, moaning his last and gasping his life away;
Opis wings her flight to the skyey heaven.
[868-901]At once the light squadron of Camilla retreat now they have
lost their mistress; the Rutulians retreat in confusion, brave Atinas
retreats. Scattered captains and thinned companies make for safety, and
turn their horses backward to the town. Nor does any avail to make stand
against the swarming death-dealing Teucrians, or bear their shock in
arms; but their unstrung bows droop on their shoulders, and the
four-footed galloping horse-hoof shakes the crumbling plain. The eddying
dust rolls up thick and black towards the walls, and on the watch-towers
mothers beat their breasts and the cries of women rise up to heaven. On
such as first in the rout broke in at the open gates the mingling
hostile throng follows hard; nor do they escape death, alas! but in the
very gateway, within their native city and amid their sheltering homes,
they are pierced through and gasp out their life. Some shut the gates,
and dare not open to their pleading comrades nor receive them in the
town; and a most pitiful slaughter begins between armed men who guard
the entry and others who rush upon their arms. Barred out before their
weeping parents' eyes and faces, some, swept on by the rout, roll
headlong into the trenches; some, blindly rushing with loosened rein,
batter at the gates and stiffly-bolted doorway. The very mothers from
the walls in eager heat (true love of country points the way, when they
see Camilla) dart weapons with shaking hand, and eagerly make hard
stocks of wood and fire-hardened poles serve for steel, and burn to die
among the foremost for their city's sake.
Meanwhile among the forests the terrible news pours in on Turnus, and
Acca brings him news of the mighty invasion; the Volscian lines are
destroyed; Camilla is fallen; the enemy thicken and press on, and have
swept all before them down the tide of battle. Raging he leaves the
hills he had beset--Jove's stern will ordains it [902-915]so--and quits
the rough woodland. Scarcely had he marched out of sight and gained the
plain when lord Aeneas enters the open defiles, surmounts the ridge, and
issues from the dim forest. So both advance swiftly to the town with all
their columns, no long march apart, and at once Aeneas descried afar the
plains all smoking with dust, and saw the Laurentine columns, and Turnus
knew Aeneas terrible in arms, and heard the advancing feet and the
neighing of the horses. And straightway would they join battle and essay
the conflict, but that ruddy Phoebus even now dips his weary coursers in
the Iberian flood, and night draws on over the fading day.
