Aeneid IX.1-106
Turnus threatens the Trojan ships. We get a Cybele flashback!
While all these things were happening in various places,
Saturnian Juno sent Iris from heaven to brave Turnus,
who chanced to be sitting in a sacred valley, a grove to Pilumnus1
his father. To him Thaumas’s2 daughter spoke from her rosy lips:
“Turnus, see, the circling days unasked have brought
what you wished, but what no god dared to promise.
Aeneas leaving the city, his friends and ships,
seeks the Palatine kingdom and Evander’s house.
Unsatisfied, he has reached Corythus’s furthest cities
and, gathering men from the country, arms Lydian troops.
Why wait? Now is the time to call on horse and chariot.
End all delays: seize their camp in its confusion.”
She spoke and rose into the sky on level wings,
tracing a vast arc against the clouds in her flight.
The youth knew her, raised both his hands to the heavens,
and sent these words after her as she flew:
“Iris, glory of the sky, who sent you down through
the clouds to me on earth? Where does this sudden
bright moment spring from? I see the sky split apart
at its zenith, and the stars that roam the pole. I follow
so mighty an omen, whoever calls me to arms.”
Saying this he went to the river and scooped water
from the surface of the stream, calling often
to the gods and weighting the air with prayers.
Now the whole army, rich in horses, rich in ornate clothes
and gold, was engaged in moving over the open fields;
Messapus controlling the front ranks, Tyrrhus’s sons
the rear, Turnus the leader in the centre of the line:
like the deep Ganges swelling in silence through
his seven placid streams, or Nile when his rich stream
inundates the fields, soon sinking down into his course.
The Trojans suddenly see a black dust cloud
gathering there and darkness rising over the plain.
Caicus shouted first from the forward rampart:
“What’s that rolling mass of black fog, countrymen?
Bring your swords, quickly, hand out spears, mount the walls:
ah, the enemy is here!” With a great clamour the Trojans
retreated through the gates and filled the ramparts.
For Aeneas, wisest in warfare, had commanded, on leaving,
if anything chanced in the meantime, they were not to dare
to form ranks or trust themselves to the open field; they were
only to guard the camp and walls, safe behind the ramparts.
So, though anger and shame counselled the troops to fight,
still they shut the gates and followed his orders,
awaiting the enemy, armed, within their hollow turrets.
But Turnus had galloped forward ahead of his slow column,
accompanied by twenty chosen horsemen, and reached
the city unexpectedly: a piebald Thracian horse carried him,
a golden helmet with a crimson crest protected his head.
“Men,” he shouted, “is there anyone who’ll be first with me
among the enemy—? Look,” and twirling a javelin sent it
skyward to start the fight, and rode proudly over the field.
His friends welcomed him with a shout, and followed
with fearful battle-cries; marvelling at the Trojan’s dull souls,
not trusting themselves to a level field, nor facing men
carrying weapons, but hugging the camp. He rode to and fro
wildly round the walls, seeking a way in where there was none.
Like a wolf lying in wait by a full sheepfold, that snarls
by the pens at midnight, enduring the wind and rain,
the lambs bleating safe beneath their mothers,
and rages against the prey out of reach, fierce and persistent
in its anger, tormented by its dry bloodless jaws
and the fierceness of its long-increasing hunger:
so as Turnus scanned the wall and camp, the Rutulian’s anger
was alight, and indignation burned in his harsh marrow.
How could he try and enter, and hurl the penned-up
Trojans from their rampart, and scatter them over the plain?
He attacked the ships that lay close to a flank of the camp,
defended by earthworks, and the flowing river,
calling out to his exultant friends for fire,
and fervently grasped a blazing pine-brand in his hand.
Then they set to (urged on by Turnus’s presence),
and all the men armed themselves with dark torches.
They stripped the hearths: the smoking branches threw
a pitchy glow, and Vulcan hurled the cloud of ashes to heaven.3
O Muse, what god turned away such fierce flames
from the Trojans? Who drove such savage fires from the ships?
Tell me: belief in the story’s ancient, its fame is eternal.
In the days when Aeneas first built his fleet on Phrygian Ida
and prepared to set out over the deep ocean,
they say the Mother of the gods herself, Berecyntian Cybele,
spoke so to great Jupiter: “My son, lord of Olympus,
grant what your dear mother asks of you in request.
There was a pine-forest, a delight to me for many years,
a grove on the summit of the mountain where they brought
offerings, dark with blackened firs and maple trunks.
I gave these gladly to the Trojan youth, since he lacked
a fleet: now troubled anxious fear torments me.
Relieve my fears, and let your mother by her prayers ensure
they are not destroyed, shattered by voyaging or violent storm:
let their origin on our mountain be of aid to them.”
Her son, who turns the starry globe, replied:
“O, my mother, to what do you summon fate? What do you seek
for them? Should keels made by mortal hands have eternal rights?
Should Aeneas travel in certainty through uncertain
dangers? To what god are such powers permitted?
No, one day when they’ve served their purpose
and reached an Italian haven, I’ll take away, from those
that escape the waves and bear the Trojan chief
to Laurentine fields, their mortal shape, and command
them to be goddesses of the vast ocean, like Doto, Nereus’s
child, and Galatea, who part the foaming sea with their breasts.”
He spoke, and swore his assent by his Stygian brother’s rivers,
by the banks that seethe with pitch on the black abyss,
and with his nod shook all Olympus.
Atque ea diversa penitus dum parte geruntur,
Irim de caelo misit Saturnia Iuno
audacem ad Turnum. luco tum forte parentis
Pilumni Turnus sacrata valle sedebat.
ad quem sic roseo Thaumantias ore locuta est: 5
'Turne, quod optanti divum promittere nemo
auderet, volvenda dies en attulit ultro.
Aeneas urbe et sociis et classe relicta
sceptra Palatini sedemque petit Evandri.
nec satis: extremas Corythi penetravit ad urbes 10
Lydorumque manum, collectos armat agrestis.
quid dubitas? nunc tempus equos, nunc poscere currus.
rumpe moras omnis et turbata arripe castra.'
dixit, et in caelum paribus se sustulit alis
ingentemque fuga secuit sub nubibus arcum. 15
agnovit iuvenis duplicisque ad sidera palmas
sustulit ac tali fugientem est voce secutus:
'Iri, decus caeli, quis te mihi nubibus actam
detulit in terras? unde haec tam clara repente
tempestas? medium video discedere caelum 20
palantisque polo stellas. sequor omina tanta,
quisquis in arma vocas.' et sic effatus ad undam
processit summoque hausit de gurgite lymphas
multa deos orans, oneravitque aethera votis.
Iamque omnis campis exercitus ibat apertis 25
dives equum, dives pictai vestis et auri;
Messapus primas acies, postrema coercent
Tyrrhidae iuvenes, medio dux agmine Turnus:
ceu septem surgens sedatis amnibus altus 30
per tacitum Ganges aut pingui flumine Nilus
cum refluit campis et iam se condidit alveo.
hic subitam nigro glomerari pulvere nubem
prospiciunt Teucri ac tenebras insurgere campis.
primus ab adversa conclamat mole Caicus: 35
'quis globus, o cives, caligine volvitur atra?
ferte citi ferrum, date tela, ascendite muros,
hostis adest, heia!' ingenti clamore per omnis
condunt se Teucri portas et moenia complent.
namque ita discedens praeceperat optimus armis 40
Aeneas: si qua interea fortuna fuisset,
neu struere auderent aciem neu credere campo;
castra modo et tutos servarent aggere muros.
ergo etsi conferre manum pudor iraque monstrat,
obiciunt portas tamen et praecepta facessunt, 45
armatique cavis exspectant turribus hostem.
Turnus, ut ante volans tardum praecesserat agmen
viginti lectis equitum comitatus et urbi
improvisus adest, maculis quem Thracius albis
portat equus cristaque tegit galea aurea rubra, 50
'ecquis erit mecum, iuvenes, qui primus in hostem—?
en,' ait et iaculum attorquens emittit in auras,
principium pugnae, et campo sese arduus infert.
clamorem excipiunt socii fremituque sequuntur
horrisono; Teucrum mirantur inertia corda, 55
non aequo dare se campo, non obvia ferre
arma viros, sed castra fovere. huc turbidus atque huc
lustrat equo muros aditumque per avia quaerit.
ac veluti pleno lupus insidiatus ovili
cum fremit ad caulas ventos perpessus et imbris 60
nocte super media; tuti sub matribus agni
balatum exercent, ille asper et improbus ira
saevit in absentis; collecta fatigat edendi
ex longo rabies et siccae sanguine fauces:
haud aliter Rutulo muros et castra tuenti 65
ignescunt irae, duris dolor ossibus ardet.
qua temptet ratione aditus, et quae via clausos
excutiat Teucros vallo atque effundat in aequum?
classem, quae lateri castrorum adiuncta latebat,
aggeribus saeptam circum et fluvialibus undis, 70
invadit sociosque incendia poscit ovantis
atque manum pinu flagranti fervidus implet.
tum vero incumbunt (urget praesentia Turni),
atque omnis facibus pubes accingitur atris.
diripuere focos: piceum fert fumida lumen 75
taeda et commixtam Volcanus ad astra favillam.
Quis deus, o Musae, tam saeva incendia Teucris
avertit? tantos ratibus quis depulit ignis?
dicite: prisca fides facto, sed fama perennis.
tempore quo primum Phrygia formabat in Ida 80
Aeneas classem et pelagi petere alta parabat,
ipsa deum fertur genetrix Berecyntia magnum
vocibus his adfata Iovem: 'da, nate, petenti,
quod tua cara parens domito te poscit Olympo.
pinea silva mihi multos dilecta per annos, 85
lucus in arce fuit summa, quo sacra ferebant,
nigranti picea trabibusque obscurus acernis.
has ego Dardanio iuveni, cum classis egeret,
laeta dedi; nunc sollicitam timor anxius angit.
solve metus atque hoc precibus sine posse parentem, 90
ne cursu quassatae ullo neu turbine venti
vincantur: prosit nostris in montibus ortas.'
filius huic contra, torquet qui sidera mundi:
'o genetrix, quo fata vocas? aut quid petis istis?
mortaline manu factae immortale carinae 95
fas habeant? certusque incerta pericula lustret
Aeneas? cui tanta deo permissa potestas?
immo, ubi defunctae finem portusque tenebunt
Ausonios olim, quaecumque evaserit undis
Dardaniumque ducem Laurentia vexerit arva, 100
mortalem eripiam formam magnique iubebo
aequoris esse deas, qualis Nereia Doto
et Galatea secant spumantem pectore pontum.'
dixerat idque ratum Stygii per flumina fratris,
per pice torrentis atraque voragine ripas 105
adnuit, et totum nutu tremefecit Olympum.
Find the glossary for Aeneid Daily here; subscribe to receive daily posts.
Not his literal father, but the woodland god from whom Turnus was descended.