No More Learning

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?