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Notes Display Latin text | translated by Theodore C. Williams Book XII Chapter 35: The death of Turnus0 | Return to index Previous chapter |
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Above his faltering terror gleams in air Aeneas' fatal spear; whose eye perceived the moment of success, and all whose strength struck forth: the vast and ponderous rock outflung from engines which make breach in sieged walls not louder roars nor breaks in thunder-sound more terrible; like some black whirlwind flew the death-delivering spear, and, rending wide the corselet's edges and the heavy rim of the last circles of the seven-fold shield, pierced, hissing, through the thigh. Huge Turnus sinks o'erwhelmed upon the ground with doubling knee. Up spring the Rutules, groaning; the whole hill roars answering round them, and from far and wide the lofty groves give back an echoing cry. Lowly, with suppliant eyes, and holding forth his hand in prayer: I have my meed, he cried, Nor ask for mercy. Use what Fate has given! But if a father's grief upon thy heart have power at all, -- for Sire Anchises once to thee was dear, -- I pray thee to show grace to Daunus in his desolate old age; and me, or, if thou wilt, my lifeless clay, to him and his restore. For, lo, thou art my conqueror! Ausonia's eyes have seen me suppliant, me fallen. Thou hast made Lavinia thy bride. Why further urge our enmity? With swift and dreadful arms Aeneas o'er him stood, with rolling eyes, but his bare sword restraining; for such words moved on him more and more: when suddenly, over the mighty shoulder slung, he saw that fatal baldric studded with bright gold which youthful Pallas wore, what time he fell vanquished by Turnus' stroke, whose shoulders now carried such trophy of a foeman slain. Aeneas' eyes took sure and slow survey of spoils that were the proof and memory of cruel sorrow; then with kindling rage and terrifying look, he cried, Wouldst thou, clad in a prize stripped off my chosen friend, escape this hand? In this thy mortal wound t is Pallas has a victim; Pallas takes the lawful forfeit of thy guilty blood! He said, and buried deep his furious blade in the opposer's heart. The failing limbs sank cold and helpless; and the vital breath with moan of wrath to darkness fled away. |
919-952 Cunctanti telum Aeneas fatale coruscat, sortitus fortunam oculis, et corpore toto eminus intorquet. murali concita numquam tormento sic saxa fremunt nec fulmine tanti dissultant crepitus. uolat atri turbinis instar exitium dirum hasta ferens orasque recludit loricae et clipei extremos septemplicis orbis; per medium stridens transit femur. incidit ictus ingens ad terram duplicato poplite Turnus. consurgunt gemitu Rutuli totusque remugit mons circum et uocem late nemora alta remittunt. ille humilis supplex oculos dextramque precantem protendens 'equidem merui nec deprecor' inquit; 'utere sorte tua. miseri te si qua parentis tangere cura potest, oro (fuit et tibi talis Anchises genitor) Dauni miserere senectae et me, seu corpus spoliatum lumine mauis, redde meis. uicisti et uictum tendere palmas Ausonii uidere; tua est Lauinia coniunx, ulterius ne tende odiis.' stetit acer in armis Aeneas uoluens oculos dextramque repressit; et iam iamque magis cunctantem flectere sermo coeperat, infelix umero cum apparuit alto balteus et notis fulserunt cingula bullis Pallantis pueri, uictum quem uulnere Turnus strauerat atque umeris inimicum insigne gerebat. ille, oculis postquam saeui monimenta doloris exuuiasque hausit, furiis accensus et ira terribilis: 'tune hinc spoliis indute meorum eripiare mihi? Pallas te hoc uulnere, Pallas immolat et poenam scelerato ex sanguine sumit.' hoc dicens ferrum aduerso sub pectore condit feruidus; ast illi soluuntur frigore membra uitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras. |