Setting out with promise of rich rewards if successful, they
surprise the Latin Camp but are themselves in turn surprised and
slain (199-513). Their victims are buried; their heads are paraded
on pikes before the Trojan Camp, to the agony of the mother of
Euryalus (514-576). The allies assault the camp. Virgil invokes
Calliope to describe the fray (577-603). The collapse of a tower and
losses on both sides prelude Ascanius' baptism of fire. He kills his
man (604-765). The brothers Pandarus and Bitias open the camp-gates
in defiance. Bitias falls, and Pandarus, retreating, shuts Turnus
within the camp, who kills him, but failing to let in his friends
is eventually hard pressed (766-882). The Trojans rally round
Mnestheus and Serestus. Turnus plunges into the river and with
difficulty escapes by swimming (883-927).
I. While thus in distant quarter moves the scene,
Down to the daring Turnus from the skies
Comes Iris, sent by the Saturnian queen.
Him seated in a hallowed vale, where lies
His father's grove, Pilumnus', she espies.
There straight with rosy lips the daughter fair
Of Thaumas hails the hero: "Turnus, rise.
Behold what none of all the Gods would dare
To promise, rolling Time hath proffered without prayer.
II. "Fleet left and friends, AEneas to the court
Of Palatine Evander speeds his way,
Nay, the far towns of Corythus hath sought,
And arms the Lydian swains to meet the fray!
Now call for steel and chariot. Why delay?
Surprise the camp and capture it."--She said,
And straight on balanced pinions soared away,
Cleaving the bow. The warrior marked, and spread
His hands, and thus with prayer pursued her as she fled:
III. "O Iris, Heaven's fair glory, who hath sent
Thee hither? whence this sudden light so clear?
I see the firmament asunder rent,
And planets wandering in the polar sphere.
Blest omens, hail! I follow thee, whoe'er
Thou art, that call'st to battle." He arose
With joy, and stepping to the streamlet near,
Scoops up the water in his palms, and bows
In suppliance to the Gods, and burdens Heaven with vows.
IV. Now all the host were marching on the meads,
Well-horsed, and panoplied in golden gear,
With broidered raiment. Brave Messapus leads
The van, the sons of Tyrrheus close the rear,
And Turnus in mid column shakes his spear.
Slow moves the host, as when his seven-fold head
Great G
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