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You fee th' event-Now hear what I propose,
To fave our friends, and fatisfy our foes:
A tract of land the Latins have poffefs'd
Along the Tiber, stretching to the West,
Which now Rutulians and Auruncans till:
And their mix'd cattle graze the fruitful hill;
Those mountains fill'd with firs, that lower land,
If you consent, the Trojan shall command;
Call'd into part of what is ours; and there,
On terms agreed, the common country share.
There let them build, and fettle, if they please;
Unless they choose once more to cross the feas,
In fearch of feats remote of Italy;

And from unwelcome inmates fet us free.
Then twice ten gallies let us build with speed,
Or twice as many more, if more they need ;
Materials are at hand: a well-grown wood
Runs equal with the margin of the flood:
Let them the number, and the form affign;
The care and coft of all the stores be mine.

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wear;

And fums of gold. Among yourselves debate
This great affair, and fave the finking state.

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To treat the peace, a hundred fenators

Shall be commiffion'd hence with ample powers; 504
With olive crown'd: the presents they shall bear,
A purple robe, a royal ivory chair;

And all the marks of fway that Latian monarchs

Then Drances took the word; who grudg'd long fince, The rifing glories of the Daunian prince.

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Factious and rich, bold at the council-board,
But cautious in the field, he fhun'd the fword;
A close caballer, and tongue-valiant lord.
Noble his mother was, and near the throne,
But what his father's parentage, unknown.
He rofe, and took th' advantage of the times,
To load young Turnus with invidious crimes.
Such truths, O king, faid he, your words contain,
As ftrike the fenfe, and all replies are vain :
Nor are your loyal subjects now to seek
What common needs require; but fear to speak,
Let him give leave of speech, that haughty man,
Whose pride this inaufpicious war began :
For whofe ambition (let me dare to fay,
Fear fet apart, though death is in my way)
The plains of Latium run with blood around;
So many valiant heroes bite the ground :
Dejected grief in every face appears;
A town in mourning, and a land in tears.
While he, th' undoubted author of our harms,
The man who menaces the gods with arms,
Yet, after all his boasts, forfook the fight,
And fought his fafety in ignoble flight.

Now, beft of kings, fince you propose to fend 535 Such bounteous prefents to your Trojan friend;

Add yet a greater at our joint request,
One which he values more than all the reft;
Give him the fair Lavinia for his bride :
With that alliance let the league be ty'd ;
And for the bleeding land a lafting peace provide.

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Let infolence no longer awe the throne,
But with a father's right bestow your own.
For this maligner of the general good,

If ftill we fear his force, he must be woo'd:
His haughty godhead we with prayers implore,
Your fceptre to release, and our just rights restore.
O curfed caufe of all our ills, muft we
Wage wars unjuft, and fall in fight thee!
What right haft thou to rule the Latian state,
And fend us out to meet our certain fate?
'Tis a deftructive war: from Turnus' hand
Our peace and public fafety we demand.
Let the fair bride to the brave chief remain;
If not, the peace without the pledge is vain.
Turnus, I know, you think me not your friend,
Nor will I much with your belief contend:
I beg your greatnefs not to give the law
In other realms, but, beaten, to withdraw.
Pity your own, or pity our eftate;
Nor twift our fortunes with your finking fate.
Your intereft is, the war fhould never ceafe;
But we have felt enough, to wish the peace :
A land exhaufted to the last remains,
Depopulated towns, and driven plains.
Yes, if defire of fame, and thirft of power,
A beauteous princess, with a crown in dower,
So fire your mind, in arms affert your right;
And meet your foe, who dares you to the fight.
Mankind, it feems, is made for you alone;
We, but the flaves who mount you to the throne:

A bafe

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A bafe ignoble crowd, without a name:
Unwept, unworthy of the funeral flame:
By duty bound to forfeit each his life,
That Turnus may poffefs a royal wife..
Permit not, mighty man, fo mean a crew
Should share fuch triumphs; and detain from you
The poft of honour, your undoubted due :
Rather alone your matchlefs force employ ;
To merit, what alone you must enjoy.

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These words, so full of malice, mix'd with art,
Inflam'd with rage the youthful hero's heart.
Then, groaning from the bottom of his breast,
He heav'd for wind, and thus his wrath exprefs'd.
You, Drances, never want a ftream of words,
Then, when the public need requires our fwords.
Firft in the council-hall to fteer the state;
And ever foremost in a tongue-debate.

While our ftrong walls fecure us from the foe,
Ere yet with blood our ditches overflow:
But let the potent orator declaim,

And with the brand of coward blot my name;-
Free leave is given him, when his fatal hand
Has cover'd with more corpfe the fanguine ftrand;

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If any doubt remains who dares the most,
Let us decide it at the Trojans' cost:
And iffue both a-breaft, where honour calls;
Foes are not far to feek without the walls.
Unless his noify tongue can only fight:
And feet were given him but to speed his flight.

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I beaten

I beaten from the field! I forc'd away!
Who, but fo known a dastard, dares to say?
Had he but ev'n beheld the fight, his eyes
Had witnefs'd for me what his tongue denies :
What heaps of Trojans by this hand were flain,
And how the bloody Tiber fwell'd the main.
All faw, but he, th' Arcadian troops retire,
In scatter'd fquadrons, and their prince expire.
The giant brothers, in their camp, have found,
I was not forc'd with ease to quit my ground.
Not fuch the Trojans try'd me, when, inclos'd,
I fingly their united arms oppos'd:

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First forc'd an entrance through their thick array; 614 Then, glutted with their flaughter, freed my way. 'Tis a destructive war! So let it be,

But to the Phrygian pirate and to thee..

Mean time proceed to fill the people's ears

With falfe reports, their minds with panick fears:
Extol the strength of a twice-conquer'd race,
Our foes encourage, and our friends debase.
Believe thy fables, and the Trojan town
Triumphant ftands, the Grecians are o'erthrown:
Suppliant at Hector's feet Achilles lies;
And Diomede from fierce Æneas flies.
Say rapid Aufidus with awful dread,
Runs backward from the fea, and hides his head,
When the great Trojan on his bank appears :
For that 's as true as thy diffembled fears
Of my revenge: difmifs that vanity,
Thou, Drances, art below a death from me.

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