Turnus leapt forward, thinking himself safe, rose to the full height
of his body with uplifted sword, and struck; the Trojans
and the anxious Latins cried out, both armies were roused.
But the treacherous blade snapped, and would have left the eager
warrior defenceless in mid-stroke if immediate flight
had not saved him. He ran swifter than the east wind
when he saw that strange hilt in his exposed right hand.
The tale is that in headlong haste, when he first mounted
behind his yoked team for battle, he left his father’s sword
behind and snatched up the blade of his charioteer, Metiscus;
and that served him for a long while as the straggling Trojans
turned their backs, but the mortal blade flew apart
like brittle ice at the stroke on meeting Vulcan’s
divine armour, and the fragments gleamed on the yellow sand.
So Turnus ran madly this way and that over the plain, winding
aimless circles here and there; on all sides the Trojans
imprisoned him in their crowded ring, and a vast marsh
penned him on one side, on the other the steep ramparts.
Aenaeas no less, though his knees, slowed at times
by the arrow wound, failed him and denied him speed,
pursued and pressed his anxious enemy hotly, foot to foot:
as when a hound in the hunt presses on a stag, chasing
and barking, one found trapped by the river or hedged in
by fear of the crimson feathers; the stag, terrified
by the snares and the high banks, flies backwards and forwards
a thousand ways, but the eager Umbrian1 clings close
with gaping mouth, almost has him, and snaps his jaws
as though he holds him, baffled and biting empty air;
then a clamour breaks out indeed, the pools and banks
around echo, and the whole sky rings with the tumult.
As he fled, Turnus chided the Rutulians, calling on each
by name and calling out for his own familiar sword.
Aeneas in turn threatened death and immediate destruction
if any one approached, and terrified his trembling enemies
threatening to raze the city, and pressing on though wounded.
They completed five circuits, and unwound as many,
this way and that: since they sought for no paltry prize
at the games, but vied for Turnus’s life blood.2
By chance this was the place where a bitter-leaved
wild olive,3 sacred to Faunus, had stood, a tree revered
by sailors of old, where, when saved from the sea, they used
to hang their gifts to the Laurentine god, and the votive garments;
but the Trojans had removed the sacred trunk, allowing
of no exceptions, in order to fight on open ground.
Here stood Aeneas’s spear, its impetus had carried it there,
fixed and held fast by the tough roots. The Trojan halted,
intending to pluck out the steel with his hand
and pursue the man he couldn’t catch by running
with his javelin. Then Turnus, mad with anxiety indeed, cried:
“Faunus, pity me, I pray, and you, most gracious Earth,
if I have ever honoured your rites that the sons of Aeneas
have instead defiled by war, retain the steel.”
He spoke, and did not invoke the power of heaven in vain,
since Aeneas could not prise open the wood’s grip
by any show of strength, though he wrestled long and lingered
over the strong stump. While he tugged and strained fiercely, Juturna,
the Daunian goddess, changing again to the shape of Metiscus
the charioteer, ran forward and restored his sword to her brother.
But Venus, enraged that this was allowed the audacious nymph,
approached and plucked the javelin from the deep root.
Refreshed with weapons and courage, one relying on his sword,
the other towering fiercely with his spear, both breathing hard,
they stood, tall, face to face, in martial conflict.
The king of almighty Olympus meanwhile was speaking
to Juno as she gazed at the fighting from a golden cloud:
“Wife, what will the end be now? What will be left in the end?
You know yourself, and confess you know, that Aeneas
is destined for heaven as the nation’s god:4 the Fates raise him to the stars.
What are you planning? What hope do you cling to in the cold clouds?
Was it right that this god be defiled by a mortal’s wound?
Or that the lost sword (for what could Juturna achieve without you?)
be restored to Turnus, the defeated gaining new strength?
Now cease at last and give way to my entreaties,
lest such sadness consume you in silence, and your bitter
woes stream back to me often from your sweet lips.
It has reached its end. You have had the power to drive
the Trojans over land and sea, to stir up evil war,
to mar a house and mix marriage with grief:
I forbid you to attempt more.” So Jupiter spoke;
so, with humble look, the Saturnian goddess replied:
“Great Jupiter, truly, it was because I knew it was your wish
that I parted reluctantly from Turnus and the earth;
or you would not see me alone now on my celestial perch
enduring the just and the unjust, but I’d be standing, wreathed in flame,
in the battle line itself, and drawing the Trojans into deadly combat.
I counselled Juturna (I confess) to help her unfortunate brother
and approved greater acts of daring for the sake of his life,
yet not for her to contend with the arrow or the bow;
I swear it by the implacable fountainhead of Styx,
that alone is held in awe by the gods above.
And now I yield, yes, and leave the fighting I loathe.
Yet I beg this of you, for Latium’s sake, for the majesty
of your own kin: since it is not prohibited by any law of fate,
when they soon make peace with happy nuptials (so be it),
when they join together soon in laws and treaties,
don’t order the native Latins to change their ancient name,
to become Trojans or be called Teucrians,
or change their language, or alter their clothing.
Let Latium still exist, let there be Alban kings through the ages,
let there be Roman offspring strong in Italian virtue:
Troy has fallen, let her stay fallen, along with her name.”
Smiling at her, the creator of men and things replied:
“You are a true sister of Jove, another child of Saturn,
such waves of anger surge within your heart.
Come, truly, calm this passion that was needlessly roused:
I grant what you wish, and I relent, willingly defeated.
Ausonia’s sons will keep their father’s speech and manners,
as their name is, so it will be; the Trojans shall sink, merged
into the mass, only. I will add sacred laws and rites,
and make them all Latins of one tongue.
From them a race will rise, merged with Ausonian blood,
that you will see surpass men and gods in virtue,
no nation will celebrate your rites with as much devotion.”
Juno agreed it, and joyfully altered her purpose;
then left her cloud and departed from the sky.
Emicat hic impune putans et corpore toto
alte sublatum consurgit Turnus in ensem
et ferit; exclamant Troes trepidique Latini, 730
arrectaeque amborum acies. at perfidus ensis
frangitur in medioque ardentem deserit ictu,
ni fuga subsidio subeat. fugit ocior Euro
ut capulum ignotum dextramque aspexit inermem.
fama est praecipitem, cum prima in proelia iunctos 735
conscendebat equos, patrio mucrone relicto,
dum trepidat, ferrum aurigae rapuisse Metisci;
idque diu, dum terga dabant palantia Teucri,
suffecit; postquam arma dei ad Volcania ventum est,
mortalis mucro glacies ceu futtilis ictu 740
dissiluit, fulva resplendent fragmina harena.
ergo amens diversa fuga petit aequora Turnus
et nunc huc, inde huc incertos implicat orbis;
undique enim densa Teucri inclusere corona
atque hinc vasta palus, hinc ardua moenia cingunt. 745
Nec minus Aeneas, quamquam tardata sagitta
interdum genua impediunt cursumque recusant,
insequitur trepidique pedem pede fervidus urget:
inclusum veluti si quando flumine nactus
cervum aut puniceae saeptum formidine pennae 750
venator cursu canis et latratibus instat;
ille autem insidiis et ripa territus alta
mille fugit refugitque vias, at vividus Umber
haeret hians, iam iamque tenet similisque tenenti
increpuit malis morsuque elusus inani est; 755
tum vero exoritur clamor ripaeque lacusque
responsant circa et caelum tonat omne tumultu.
ille simul fugiens Rutulos simul increpat omnis
nomine quemque vocans notumque efflagitat ensem.
Aeneas mortem contra praesensque minatur 760
exitium, si quisquam adeat, terretque trementis
excisurum urbem minitans et saucius instat.
quinque orbis explent cursu totidemque retexunt
huc illuc; neque enim levia aut ludicra petuntur
praemia, sed Turni de vita et sanguine certant. 765
Forte sacer Fauno foliis oleaster amaris
hic steterat, nautis olim venerabile lignum,
servati ex undis ubi figere dona solebant
Laurenti divo et votas suspendere vestis;
sed stirpem Teucri nullo discrimine sacrum 770
sustulerant, puro ut possent concurrere campo.
hic hasta Aeneae stabat, huc impetus illam
detulerat fixam et lenta radice tenebat.
incubuit volvitque manu convellere ferrum
Dardanides, teloque sequi quem prendere cursu 775
non poterat. tum vero amens formidine Turnus
'Faune, precor, miserere' inquit 'tuque optima ferrum
Terra tene, colui vestros si semper honores,
quos contra Aeneadae bello fecere profanos.'
dixit, opemque dei non cassa in vota vocavit. 780
namque diu luctans lentoque in stirpe moratus
viribus haud ullis valuit discludere morsus
roboris Aeneas. dum nititur acer et instat,
rursus in aurigae faciem mutata Metisci
procurrit fratrique ensem dea Daunia reddit. 785
quod Venus audaci nymphae indignata licere
accessit telumque alta ab radice revellit.
olli sublimes armis animisque refecti,
hic gladio fidens, hic acer et arduus hasta,
adsistunt contra certamina Martis anheli. 790
Iunonem interea rex omnipotentis Olympi
adloquitur fulva pugnas de nube tuentem:
'quae iam finis erit, coniunx? quid denique restat?
indigetem Aenean scis ipsa et scire fateris
deberi caelo fatisque ad sidera tolli. 795
quid struis? aut qua spe gelidis in nubibus haeres?
mortalin decuit violari vulnere divum?
aut ensem (quid enim sine te Iuturna valeret?)
ereptum reddi Turno et vim crescere victis?
desine iam tandem precibusque inflectere nostris, 800
ni te tantus edit tacitam dolor et mihi curae
saepe tuo dulci tristes ex ore recursent.
ventum ad supremum est. terris agitare vel undis
Troianos potuisti, infandum accendere bellum,
deformare domum et luctu miscere hymenaeos: 805
ulterius temptare veto.' sic Iuppiter orsus;
sic dea summisso contra Saturnia vultu:
'ista quidem quia nota mihi tua, magne, voluntas,
Iuppiter, et Turnum et terras invita reliqui;
nec tu me aeria solam nunc sede videres 810
digna indigna pati, sed flammis cincta sub ipsa
starem acie traheremque inimica in proelia Teucros.
Iuturnam misero (fateor) succurrere fratri
suasi et pro vita maiora audere probavi,
non ut tela tamen, non ut contenderet arcum; 815
adiuro Stygii caput implacabile fontis,
una superstitio superis quae reddita divis.
et nunc cedo equidem pugnasque exosa relinquo.
illud te, nulla fati quod lege tenetur,
pro Latio obtestor, pro maiestate tuorum: 820
cum iam conubiis pacem felicibus (esto)
component, cum iam leges et foedera iungent,
ne vetus indigenas nomen mutare Latinos
neu Troas fieri iubeas Teucrosque vocari
aut vocem mutare viros aut vertere vestem. 825
sit Latium, sint Albani per saecula reges,
sit Romana potens Itala virtute propago:
occidit, occideritque sinas cum nomine Troia.'
olli subridens hominum rerumque repertor:
'es germana Iovis Saturnique altera proles, 830
irarum tantos volvis sub pectore fluctus.
verum age et inceptum frustra summitte furorem:
do quod vis, et me victusque volensque remitto.
sermonem Ausonii patrium moresque tenebunt,
utque est nomen erit; commixti corpore tantum 835
subsident Teucri. morem ritusque sacrorum
adiciam faciamque omnis uno ore Latinos.
hinc genus Ausonio mixtum quod sanguine surget,
supra homines, supra ire deos pietate videbis,
nec gens ulla tuos aeque celebrabit honores.' 840
adnuit his Iuno et mentem laetata retorsit;
interea excedit caelo nubemque relinquit.
Find the glossary for Aeneid Daily here; subscribe to receive daily posts.
The Umbri were an Italian people; it seems they trained good hounds.
cf. Iliad 22, where Achilles chases Hector three times around the walls of Troy. Hey, what was that thing the Sibyl said? Probably doesn’t matter.
cf. the wild fig tree Hector passes fleeing from Achilles, the same that his wife Andromache pointed out to him in Iliad 6.
The specific word used here, indiges, refers to a hero elevated to godly status after their death, as a sort of patron deity of their country; according to Whitaker’s Words, it’s Aeneas-specific like that.
T: "WHERES MY SWORD?? WHERE THE HELL IS MY SWORD???"
Ae: "If You Come Near Him I'll Kill You"
J: "Joke's on you. I Can't be killed"