The hoarse clarion utters the
ensanguined
note of war.
Virgil - Aeneid
To you and to
my father Latinus I Turnus, unexcelled in bravery by any of old,
consecrate my life. _Aeneas calls on him alone_: let him, I implore: let
not Drances rather appease with his [444-480]life this wrath of heaven,
if such it be, or win the renown of valour. '
Thus they one with another strove together in uncertainty; Aeneas moved
from his camp to battle. Lo, a messenger rushes spreading confusion
through the royal house, and fills the town with great alarms: the
Teucrians, ranged in battle-line with the Tyrrhene forces, are marching
down by the Tiber river and filling the plain. Immediately spirits are
stirred and hearts shaken and wrath roused in fierce excitement among
the crowd. Hurrying hands grasp at arms; for arms their young men
clamour; the fathers shed tears and mutter gloomily. With that a great
noise rises aloft in diverse contention, even as when flocks of birds
haply settle on a lofty grove, or swans utter their hoarse cry among the
vocal pools on the fish-filled river of Padusa. 'Yes, citizens! ' cries
Turnus, seizing his time: 'gather in council and sit praising peace,
while they rush on dominion in arms! ' Without more words he sprung up
and issued swiftly from the high halls. 'Thou, Volusus,' he cries, 'bid
the Volscian battalions arm, and lead out the Rutulians. Messapus, and
Coras with thy brother, spread your armed cavalry widely over the plain.
Let a division entrench the city gates and man the towers: the rest of
our array attack with me where I command. ' The whole town goes rushing
to the walls; lord Latinus himself, dismayed by the woeful emergency,
quits the council and puts off his high designs, and chides himself
sorely for not having given Aeneas unasked welcome, and made him son and
bulwark of the city. Some entrench the gates, or bring up supply of
stones and poles.
The hoarse clarion utters the ensanguined note of war.
A motley ring of boys and matrons girdle the walls. Therewithal the
queen with a crowd of mothers ascends bearing gifts to Pallas' towered
temple, and by her side goes maiden Lavinia, source of all that woe,
[481-514]her beautiful eyes cast down. The mothers enter in, and while
the temple steams with their incense, pour from the high doorway their
mournful cry: 'Maiden armipotent, Tritonian, sovereign of war, break
with thine hand the spear of the Phrygian plunderer, hurl him prone to
earth and dash him down beneath our lofty gates. ' Turnus arrays himself
in hot haste for battle, and even now hath done on his sparkling
breastplate with its flickering scales of brass, and clasped his golden
greaves, his brows yet bare and his sword buckled to his side; he runs
down from the fortress height glittering in gold, and exultantly
anticipates the foe. Thus when a horse snaps his tether, and, free at
last, rushes from the stalls and gains the open plain, he either darts
towards the pastures of the herded mares, or bathing, as is his wont, in
the familiar river waters, dashes out and neighs with neck stretched
high, glorying, and his mane tosses over collar and shoulder. Camilla
with her Volscian array meets him face to face in the gateway; the
princess leaps from her horse, and all her squadron at her example slide
from horseback to the ground. Then she speaks thus:
'Turnus, if bravery hath any just self-confidence, I dare and promise to
engage Aeneas' cavalry, and advance to meet the Tyrrhene horse. Permit
my hand to try war's first perils: do thou on foot keep by the walls and
guard the city. '
To this Turnus, with eyes fixed on the terrible maiden: 'O maiden flower
of Italy, how may I essay to express, how to prove my gratitude? But
now, since that spirit of thine excels all praise, share thou the toil
with me. Aeneas, as the report of the scouts I sent assures, hath sent
on his light-armed horse to annoy us and scour the plains; himself he
marches on the city across the lonely ridge of the mountain steep. I am
arranging a stratagem of [515-550]war in his pathway on the wooded
slope, to block a gorge on the highroad with armed troops. Do thou
receive and join battle with the Tyrrhene cavalry; with thee shall be
gallant Messapus, the Latin squadrons, and Tiburtus' division: do thou
likewise assume a captain's charge. '
So speaks he, and with like words heartens Messapus and the allied
captains to battle, and advances towards the enemy. There is a sweeping
curve of glen, made for ambushes and devices of arms.
my father Latinus I Turnus, unexcelled in bravery by any of old,
consecrate my life. _Aeneas calls on him alone_: let him, I implore: let
not Drances rather appease with his [444-480]life this wrath of heaven,
if such it be, or win the renown of valour. '
Thus they one with another strove together in uncertainty; Aeneas moved
from his camp to battle. Lo, a messenger rushes spreading confusion
through the royal house, and fills the town with great alarms: the
Teucrians, ranged in battle-line with the Tyrrhene forces, are marching
down by the Tiber river and filling the plain. Immediately spirits are
stirred and hearts shaken and wrath roused in fierce excitement among
the crowd. Hurrying hands grasp at arms; for arms their young men
clamour; the fathers shed tears and mutter gloomily. With that a great
noise rises aloft in diverse contention, even as when flocks of birds
haply settle on a lofty grove, or swans utter their hoarse cry among the
vocal pools on the fish-filled river of Padusa. 'Yes, citizens! ' cries
Turnus, seizing his time: 'gather in council and sit praising peace,
while they rush on dominion in arms! ' Without more words he sprung up
and issued swiftly from the high halls. 'Thou, Volusus,' he cries, 'bid
the Volscian battalions arm, and lead out the Rutulians. Messapus, and
Coras with thy brother, spread your armed cavalry widely over the plain.
Let a division entrench the city gates and man the towers: the rest of
our array attack with me where I command. ' The whole town goes rushing
to the walls; lord Latinus himself, dismayed by the woeful emergency,
quits the council and puts off his high designs, and chides himself
sorely for not having given Aeneas unasked welcome, and made him son and
bulwark of the city. Some entrench the gates, or bring up supply of
stones and poles.
The hoarse clarion utters the ensanguined note of war.
A motley ring of boys and matrons girdle the walls. Therewithal the
queen with a crowd of mothers ascends bearing gifts to Pallas' towered
temple, and by her side goes maiden Lavinia, source of all that woe,
[481-514]her beautiful eyes cast down. The mothers enter in, and while
the temple steams with their incense, pour from the high doorway their
mournful cry: 'Maiden armipotent, Tritonian, sovereign of war, break
with thine hand the spear of the Phrygian plunderer, hurl him prone to
earth and dash him down beneath our lofty gates. ' Turnus arrays himself
in hot haste for battle, and even now hath done on his sparkling
breastplate with its flickering scales of brass, and clasped his golden
greaves, his brows yet bare and his sword buckled to his side; he runs
down from the fortress height glittering in gold, and exultantly
anticipates the foe. Thus when a horse snaps his tether, and, free at
last, rushes from the stalls and gains the open plain, he either darts
towards the pastures of the herded mares, or bathing, as is his wont, in
the familiar river waters, dashes out and neighs with neck stretched
high, glorying, and his mane tosses over collar and shoulder. Camilla
with her Volscian array meets him face to face in the gateway; the
princess leaps from her horse, and all her squadron at her example slide
from horseback to the ground. Then she speaks thus:
'Turnus, if bravery hath any just self-confidence, I dare and promise to
engage Aeneas' cavalry, and advance to meet the Tyrrhene horse. Permit
my hand to try war's first perils: do thou on foot keep by the walls and
guard the city. '
To this Turnus, with eyes fixed on the terrible maiden: 'O maiden flower
of Italy, how may I essay to express, how to prove my gratitude? But
now, since that spirit of thine excels all praise, share thou the toil
with me. Aeneas, as the report of the scouts I sent assures, hath sent
on his light-armed horse to annoy us and scour the plains; himself he
marches on the city across the lonely ridge of the mountain steep. I am
arranging a stratagem of [515-550]war in his pathway on the wooded
slope, to block a gorge on the highroad with armed troops. Do thou
receive and join battle with the Tyrrhene cavalry; with thee shall be
gallant Messapus, the Latin squadrons, and Tiburtus' division: do thou
likewise assume a captain's charge. '
So speaks he, and with like words heartens Messapus and the allied
captains to battle, and advances towards the enemy. There is a sweeping
curve of glen, made for ambushes and devices of arms.
