He spoke and flung the steel, straining with his whole body.
The flying javelin divided the shadows, struck Sulmo’s back
as he turned, and snapped, the broken shaft piercing the heart.
He rolled over, a hot stream pouring from his chest,
and deep gasps shook his sides as he grew cold.
They gazed round them in every direction. See, Nisus,
all the more eager, levelled another spear against his ear.
While they hesitated, the javelin hissed through both
of Tagus’s temples and fixed itself still warm in the pierced
brain. Fierce Volcens raged, but could not spy out the author
of the act, nor any place that he could vent his fire.
He rushed at Euryalus with his naked sword, as he
cried out: “In the mean time you’ll pay in hot blood
and give me revenge for both your crimes.”
Then, truly maddened with fear, Nisus shouted aloud, unable
to hide himself in the dark any longer, or endure such agony:
“On me, Rutulians, turn your steel on me, me who did the deed!
The guilt is all mine, he neither dared nor had the power;
the sky and the all-knowing stars be witnesses;
he only loved his unfortunate friend too much.”
He was still speaking, but the sword, powerfully driven,
passed through the ribs and tore the white breast.
Euryalus rolled over in death, and the blood flowed
down his lovely limbs, and his neck, drooping,
sank on his shoulder like a bright flower scythed
by the plough, bowing as it dies, or a poppy weighed
down by a chance shower, bending its weary head.
But Nisus rushed at them, seeking Volcens
above all, intent on Volcens alone.
The enemy gathered round him to drive him off
in hand to hand conflict. He attacked none the less, whirling
his sword like lightning, until he buried it full in the face
of the shrieking Rutulian and dying robbed his enemy of life.
Then, pierced through, he threw himself on the lifeless body
of his friend, and found peace at last in the calm of death.
Happy pair! If my poetry has the power,
while the House of Aeneas lives beside the Capitol’s
immobile stone and a Roman leader rules the Empire,
no day will raze you from time’s memory.
The victorious Rutulians, gaining new plunder and the spoils,
weeping carried the lifeless Volcens to the camp.
Nor was there less grief in that camp when Rhamnes
was discovered, drained of blood, and so many other leaders
killed in a single slaughter, with Serranus and Numa. A huge
crowd rushed towards the corpses and the dying, and the place
fresh with hot killing and foaming streams full of blood.
Between them they identified the spoils, Messapus’s
gleaming helmet and his trappings re-won with such sweat.
And now Aurora, early, leaving Tithonus’s saffron bed,
sprinkled her fresh rays onto the earth. And now
as the sun streamed down, now as day revealed all things,
Turnus armed himself and roused his heroes to arms:
they gathered their bronze-clad troops for the battle,
each his own, and whetted their anger with various tales.
They even fixed the heads of Euryalus and Nisus
on raised spears (wretched sight), and followed
behind them making a great clamour.
The tough sons of Aeneas had fixed their opposing lines
on the left side of the ramparts (the right bordered on the river),
and they held the wide ditches and stood grieving
on the high turrets; moved as one, made wretched by seeing the heads
of men they know only too well transfixed and streaming dark blood.
Meanwhile winged Rumour, flying through the anxious town,
sped the news and stole to the ears of Euryalus’s mother.
And suddenly all warmth left her helpless bones,
the shuttle was hurled from her hands, the thread unwound.
The wretched woman rushed out and sought the ramparts
and the front line, shrieking madly, her hair dishevelled:
she ignored the soldiers, the danger, the weapons,
then she filled the heavens with her lament:
“Is it you I see, Euryalus? You who brought peace
at last to my old age, how could you bring yourself
to leave me alone, cruel child? Why did you not give
your poor mother the chance for a final goodbye
when you were being sent into so much danger?
Ah, you lie here in a strange land, given as prey to the carrion
birds and dogs of Latium! I, your mother, did not escort you
in funeral procession, or close your eyes, or bathe your wounds,
or shroud you with the robes I laboured at night and day
for you, soothing the cares of old age at the loom.
Where shall I go? What earth now holds your body,
your torn limbs, your mangled corpse? My son,
is this what you bring home to me? Is this why I followed you
by land and sea? O Rutulians, if you have feelings, pierce me,
hurl all your spears at me, destroy me above all with your steel;
or you, great father of the gods, pity me, and with
your lightning bolt hurl this hated being down to Tartarus,
since I can shatter this cruel life no other way.”
This wailing shook their hearts, and a groan of sorrow swept
them all: their strength for battle was numbed and weakened.
She was igniting grief, and Idaeus and Actor,
at Ilioneus’s order, with Iulus weeping bitterly,
caught her up and carried her inside in their arms.
dixerat et toto conixus corpore ferrum 410
conicit. hasta volans noctis diverberat umbras
et venit aversi in tergum Sulmonis ibique
frangitur, ac fisso transit praecordia ligno.
volvitur ille vomens calidum de pectore flumen
frigidus et longis singultibus ilia pulsat. 415
diversi circumspiciunt. hoc acrior idem
ecce aliud summa telum librabat ab aure.
dum trepidant, it hasta Tago per tempus utrumque
stridens traiectoque haesit tepefacta cerebro.
saevit atrox Volcens nec teli conspicit usquam 420
auctorem nec quo se ardens immittere possit.
'tu tamen interea calido mihi sanguine poenas
persolves amborum' inquit; simul ense recluso
ibat in Euryalum. tum vero exterritus, amens,
conclamat Nisus nec se celare tenebris 425
amplius aut tantum potuit perferre dolorem:
'me, me, adsum qui feci, in me convertite ferrum,
o Rutuli! mea fraus omnis, nihil iste nec ausus
nec potuit; caelum hoc et conscia sidera testor;
tantum infelicem nimium dilexit amicum.' 430
talia dicta dabat, sed viribus ensis adactus
transadigit costas et candida pectora rumpit.
volvitur Euryalus leto, pulchrosque per artus
it cruor inque umeros cervix conlapsa recumbit:
purpureus veluti cum flos succisus aratro 435
languescit moriens, lassove papavera collo
demisere caput pluvia cum forte gravantur.
at Nisus ruit in medios solumque per omnis
Volcentem petit, in solo Volcente moratur.
quem circum glomerati hostes hinc comminus atque hinc 440
proturbant. instat non setius ac rotat ensem
fulmineum, donec Rutuli clamantis in ore
condidit adverso et moriens animam abstulit hosti.
tum super exanimum sese proiecit amicum
confossus, placidaque ibi demum morte quievit. 445
Fortunati ambo! si quid mea carmina possunt,
nulla dies umquam memori vos eximet aevo,
dum domus Aeneae Capitoli immobile saxum
accolet imperiumque pater Romanus habebit.
Victores praeda Rutuli spoliisque potiti 450
Volcentem exanimum flentes in castra ferebant.
nec minor in castris luctus Rhamnete reperto
exsangui et primis una tot caede peremptis,
Serranoque Numaque. ingens concursus ad ipsa
corpora seminecisque viros, tepidaque recentem 455
caede locum et pleno spumantis sanguine rivos.
agnoscunt spolia inter se galeamque nitentem
Messapi et multo phaleras sudore receptas.
Et iam prima novo spargebat lumine terras
Tithoni croceum linquens Aurora cubile. 460
iam sole infuso, iam rebus luce retectis
Turnus in arma viros armis circumdatus ipse
suscitat: aeratasque acies in proelia cogunt,
quisque suos, variisque acuunt rumoribus iras.
quin ipsa arrectis (visu miserabile) in hastis 465
praefigunt capita et multo clamore sequuntur
Euryali et Nisi.
Aeneadae duri murorum in parte sinistra
opposuere aciem (nam dextera cingitur amni),
ingentisque tenent fossas et turribus altis 470
stant maesti; simul ora virum praefixa movebant
nota nimis miseris atroque fluentia tabo.
Interea pavidam volitans pennata per urbem
nuntia Fama ruit matrisque adlabitur auris
Euryali. at subitus miserae calor ossa reliquit, 475
excussi manibus radii revolutaque pensa.
evolat infelix et femineo ululatu
scissa comam muros amens atque agmina cursu
prima petit, non illa virum, non illa pericli
telorumque memor, caelum dehinc questibus implet: 480
'hunc ego te, Euryale, aspicio? tune ille senectae
sera meae requies, potuisti linquere solam,
crudelis? nec te sub tanta pericula missum
adfari extremum miserae data copia matri?
heu, terra ignota canibus data praeda Latinis 485
alitibusque iaces! nec te tua funere mater
produxi pressive oculos aut vulnera lavi,
veste tegens tibi quam noctes festina diesque
urgebam, et tela curas solabar anilis.
quo sequar? aut quae nunc artus avulsaque membra 490
et funus lacerum tellus habet? hoc mihi de te,
nate, refers? hoc sum terraque marique secuta?
figite me, si qua est pietas, in me omnia tela
conicite, o Rutuli, me primam absumite ferro;
aut tu, magne pater divum, miserere, tuoque 495
invisum hoc detrude caput sub Tartara telo,
quando aliter nequeo crudelem abrumpere vitam.'
hoc fletu concussi animi, maestusque per omnis
it gemitus, torpent infractae ad proelia vires.
illam incendentem luctus Idaeus et Actor 500
Ilionei monitu et multum lacrimantis Iuli
corripiunt interque manus sub tecta reponunt.
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