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Let that vile foul in that vile body reft:
The lodging is well worthy of the guest.

Now, royal father, to the present state
Of our affairs, and of this high debate;
If in your arms thus early you decide,
And think your fortune is already try'd;
If one defeat has brought us down fo low;
As never more in fields to meet the foe;
Then I conclude for peace: 'tis time to treat,
And lie like vaffals at the victor's feet.
But oh, if any ancient blood remains,
One drop of all our fathers in our veins



That man would I prefer before the reft,

Who dar'd his death with an undaunted breaft:


Who comely fell by no dishonest wound,

To fhun that fight; and dying gnaw'd the ground.

But, if we still have fresh recruits in store,

If our confederates can afford us more;

If the contended field we bravely fought :


And not a bloodless victory was bought :

Their loffes equal'd ours; and for their flain,
With equal fires they fill'd the fhining plain;
Why thus unforc'd should we so tamely yield;
And, ere the trumpet founds, refign the field?
Good unexpected, evils unforeseen,
Appear by turns, as Fortune fhifts the scene:
Some rais'd aloft, come tumbling down amain;
Then fall fo hard, they bound and rise again.
If Diomede refufe his aid to lend,
The great Meffapus yet remains our friend:

C 4




Tolumnius, who foretels events, is ours:

Th' Italian chiefs, and princes, join their powers :
Nor leaft in number, nor in name the laft,

Your own brave fubjects have our caufe embrac'd. 665
Above the reft, the Volfcian Amazon

Contains an army in herself alone:

And heads a fquadron, terrible to fight,

Yet if the foe a single fight demand,

With glittering fhields, in brazen armour bright.

And I alone the public peace withstand;
If you confent, he fhall not be refus'd,
Nor find a hand to victory unus'd.
This new Achilles let him take the field,
With fated armour, and Vulcanian fhield;
For you, my royal father, and my fame,
I, Turnus, not the leaft of all my name,
Devote my foul. He calls me hand to hand,
And I alone will anfwer his demand.
Drances fhall reft fecure, and neither fhare




The danger, nor divide the prize of war.

While they debate; nor thefe nor those will yield; Æneas draws his forces to the field;


And moves his camp. The fcouts with flying speed
Return, and through the frighted city spread
Th' unpleafing news, the Trojans are defcry'd
In battle marching by the river's fide;

And bending to the town. They take th' alarm,
Some tremble, fome are bold, all in confufion arm.
Th' impetuous youth prefs forward to the field; 690
They clafh the fword, and clatter on the shield;


The fearful matrons riafe a fcreaming cry;
Old feeble men with fainter groans reply;
A jarring found refults, and mingles in the sky,
Like that of fwans remurmuring to the floods,
Or birds of differing kinds in hollow woods.
Turnus th' occafion takes, and cries aloud,
Talk on, ye quaint haranguers of the crown:
Declaim in praife of peace, when danger calls;
And the fierce foes in arms approach the walls.
He said, and, turning fhort, with speedy pace,
Cafts back a fcornful glance, and quits the place.
Thou, Volufus, the Volfcian troops command
To mount; and lead thyself our Ardean band.
Meffapus, and Catillus, poft your force
Along the fields, to charge the Trojan horse.
Some guard the paffes, others man the wall;
Drawn up in arms, the reft attend my call.





They fwarm from every quarter of the town; And with disorder'd hafte the rampires crown. Good old Latinus, when he faw, too late,



The gathering ftorm, just breaking on the state,
Difmifs'd the council, till a fitter time,
And own'd his eafy temper as his crime:
Who, forc'd against his reason, had comply'd
To break the treaty for the promis'd bride.
Some help to fink new trenches, others aid
To ram the stones, or raise the palifade.
Hoarfe trumpets found th' alarm: around the walls
Runs a distracted crew, whom their laft labour calls..
A fad

A fad proceffion in the streets is feen,

Of matrons that attend the mother-queen:
High in her chair fhe fits, and at her side,



With down-caft eyes, appears the fatal bride.
They mount the cliff, where Pallas' temple stands;
Prayers in their mouths, and prefents in their hands;
With cenfers, firft they fume the facred shrine;
Then in this common fupplication join :

patronefs of arms, unspotted maid,
Propitious hear, and lend thy Latins aid :
Break fhort the pirate's lance; pronounce his fate,
And lay the Phrygian low before the gate.


Now Turnus arms for fight: his back and breast,
Well-temper'd fteel and scaly brass invest:
The cuifhes, which his brawny thighs infold,
Are mingled metal damask'd o'er with gold.
His faithful fauchion fits upon his fide;

Nor cafque, nor creft, his manly features hide :
But bare to view amid furrounding friends,


With godlike grace, he from the tower defcends. 740
Exulting in his ftrength, he feems to dare
His abfent rival, and to promise war.

Freed from his keepers, thus, with broken reins,
The wanton courfer prances o'er the plains:
Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds:
And fnuffs the females in forbidden grounds.
Or feeks his watering in the well-known flood,
To quench his thirft, and cool his fiery blood:
He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain,
And o'er his fhoulder flows his waving mane:

750 He

He neighs, he fnorts, he bears his head on high;
Before his ample cheft the frothy waters fly.

Soon as the prince appears without the gate, The Volfcians, and their virgin-leader, wait His laft commands. Then, with a grateful mien, 755 Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen : Her fquadron imitates, and each defcends; Whofe common. fuit Camilla thus commends: If fenfe of honour, if a foul fecure

Of inborn worth, that can all tests endure,


Can promise aught; or on itself rely,
Greatly to dare, to conquer, or to die :
Then, I alone, sustain'd by these, will meet
The Tyrrhene troops, and promise their defeat.
Ours be the danger, ours the fole renown;
You, general, stay behind, and guard the town.
Turnus a while stood mute, with glad furprize,
And on the fierce virago fix'd his eyes:
Then thus return'd: O grace of Italy,
With what becoming thanks can I reply!
Not only words lie labouring in my breaft
But thought itself is by thy praise oppreft;

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Yet rob me not of all, but let me join

My toils, my hazard, and my fame, with thine.
The Trojan (not in ftratagem unskill'd)


Sends his light horfe before, to fcour the field:
Him elf, through steep ascents and thorny brakes,
A larger compafs to the city takes.

This news my scouts confirm: and I
To foil his cunning, and his force to dare:



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