Aeneid XII.1-112
Turnus seizes on single combat.
When Turnus saw the Latins exhausted and weakened
by their military reverse, himself the subject of every gaze, his own
promise to them yet unfulfilled, he burned implacably
and unprompted, and raised his courage. As a lion in the African
bush, severely hurt by huntsmen with a wound to the chest,
only then rouses himself to battle, tosses his shaggy mane
over his neck in joy, and, unafraid, snaps off the spear
some poacher has planted in him, roaring from blood-stained jaws:
so the violence grew in Turnus’s inflamed heart.
Then he spoke to the king, beginning turbulently like this:
“There’s no reluctance here in Turnus; there’s no reason
for Aeneas’s coward crew to take back their words
or renounce their pact: I go to meet him. Carry out
the holy rite, father, and draw up the marriage contract.
I’ll either send this Trojan, this Asian deserter,
to Tartarus (let the Latins sit and watch), and
with my sword alone dispel the nation’s shame,
or let him possess the defeated, let Lavinia go then as his bride.”
Latinus replied to him with calm in his heart:
“O youth of noble spirit, the more you excel
in fierce courage, the more it is right for me to take
careful thought and weigh every event with caution.
You have your father Daunus’s kingdom, you have
the many fortresses you captured by force,
and Latinus is not short of gold and generosity;
there are other unmarried girls, not ignoble in birth,
in the fields of Latium and Laurentium. Allow me to say this
un-gently, openly stripped of all guile, and take it to heart:
it was forbidden for me to ally my daughter to any
of her former suitors, and all gods and men decreed it.
Conquered by love for you, conquered by kinship and the tears
of a sorrowful wife, I broke all bounds; I snatched the betrothed
girl from my son-in-law-to-be and drew the impious sword.
You see, Turnus, what events, what war dogs me,
what a heavy burden you above all bear.
Defeated in two great battles, we can hardly preserve
the hopes of Italy in our city: Tiber’s streams are yet warm
with our blood, the vast plains whitened by our bones.
Why did I waver so often? What madness changed my decision?
If I’d be ready to accept the Trojans as allies with Turnus
dead, why not rather end the conflict while he’s alive?
What would your Rutulian kin say, and the rest of Italy,
if I betrayed you to death (let chance deny those words!)
while seeking my daughter in marriage?
Consider the fortunes of war: pity your aged father,
whom his native Ardea keeps apart from us, sorrowing.”
Turnus’s fury was unaffected by these words:
it mounted higher, inflamed by the treatment.
As soon as he was able to speak, he began like this:
“Most gracious one, that concern you feel for me, I beg you,
for me set it aside, and allow me to barter death for glory.
I too can scatter spears and no lack of steel from my hand,
father, and blood flows from the wounds I make as well.
His goddess mother will be far from him, she who covers
his flight with mist, like a woman, and hides in empty shadows.”
But the queen wept, terrified by the new terms of conflict,
and clung to her ardent son1 as if she were dying:
“Turnus, one thing I beg of you, by these tears, by any respect
for Amata that touches your heart: you are my only hope,
the peace of my sad old age, the honour and power of Latinus
is in your hands, our whole tottering house rests on you.
One thing I pray: do not engage in combat with the Trojans.
Whatever danger awaits you in that battle awaits me too,
Turnus; I would leave this hateful light with you
and will never, as a prisoner, see Aeneas as my son-in-law.”
Lavinia listened to her mother’s words, her burning
cheeks wet with tears, while a deep blush kindled
their fire and spread over her glowing face.
Her virgin looks showed such colour as when one
stains Indian ivory with crimson dye, or as
white lilies redden when mixed with many a rose.
Love stirred Turnus, and he fixed his gaze on the girl;
fired still more for battle, he spoke briefly to Amata:
“O mother, I beg you not to send me off with tears
or like ill omens as I leave for the battles of a bitter war;
Turnus is not free to delay his hour of death.
Idmon, as a messenger, carry my unwelcome words
to the Trojan leader. When tomorrow’s Dawn, riding
her crimson chariot, reddens in the sky, do not lead
Trojans against Rutulians, let Trojan and Rutulian
weapons rest; let us resolve this war with our own blood,
on that field let Lavinia be sought as bride.”
When he had spoken and returned quickly to the palace, he called
for his horses and delighted in seeing them neighing before him,
horses Orithyia2 herself gave Pilumnus as a glory,
surpassing the snow in whiteness and the wind for speed.
Their charioteers stood around eagerly patting their echoing chests
with the flat of their hands and combing their flowing manes.
Turnus drew a breastplate, stiff with gold and pale bronze,
over his shoulders, fitted his sword and shield in position,
and the horns with their crimson crest: the god with the power
of fire had wrought the sword for his father, Daunus,
and dipped it, glowing, in the waters of the Styx.
Then Turnus gripped his strong spear firmly, that stood
leaning on a great column in the middle of the hall,
a spoil won from the Auruncan Actor, shook it till it quivered
and shouted: “Now, o spear that never failed my call,
now the time has come: Actor, the mightiest, carried you,
and now the right hand of Turnus; allow me to lay low
the body of that Phrygian eunuch, tear off and shatter
his breastplate with my powerful hand, and defile his hair
with dust, that’s curled with a heated iron and drowned in myrrh.”
He was driven by frenzy, glowing sparks shot
from his whole aspect, fire flashed from his fierce eyes,
like a bull before a fight that starts its formidable
bellowing and, trying its anger with its horns,
charges a tree-trunk, lashes the air with its blows,
and scatters the sand as it practises for the battle.
Meanwhile Aeneas, no less fierce, armed with the weapons,
his mother’s gift, sharpened himself for conflict and roused
his anger, happy the war might be settled by the means on offer.
Then he comforted his friends, and Iulus’s anxious fears,
speaking of destiny, and ordered them to take a firm reply
to King Latinus and declare his conditions for peace.
Turnus ut infractos adverso Marte Latinos
defecisse videt, sua nunc promissa reposci,
se signari oculis, ultro implacabilis ardet
attollitque animos. Poenorum qualis in arvis
saucius ille gravi venantum vulnere pectus 5
tum demum movet arma leo, gaudetque comantis
excutiens cervice toros fixumque latronis
impavidus frangit telum et fremit ore cruento:
haud secus accenso gliscit violentia Turno.
tum sic adfatur regem atque ita turbidus infit: 10
'nulla mora in Turno; nihil est quod dicta retractent
ignavi Aeneadae, nec quae pepigere recusent:
congredior. fer sacra, pater, et concipe foedus.
aut hac Dardanium dextra sub Tartara mittam
desertorem Asiae (sedeant spectentque Latini), 15
et solus ferro crimen commune refellam,
aut habeat victos, cedat Lavinia coniunx.'
Olli sedato respondit corde Latinus:
'o praestans animi iuvenis, quantum ipse feroci
virtute exsuperas, tanto me impensius aequum est 20
consulere atque omnis metuentem expendere casus.
sunt tibi regna patris Dauni, sunt oppida capta
multa manu, nec non aurumque animusque Latino est;
sunt aliae innuptae Latio et Laurentibus arvis
nec genus indecores. sine me haec haud mollia fatu 25
sublatis aperire dolis, simul hoc animo hauri:
me natam nulli veterum sociare procorum
fas erat, idque omnes divique hominesque canebant.
victus amore tui, cognato sanguine victus
coniugis et maestae lacrimis, vincla omnia rupi; 30
promissam eripui genero, arma impia sumpsi.
ex illo qui me casus, quae, Turne, sequantur
bella, vides, quantos primus patiare labores.
bis magna victi pugna vix urbe tuemur
spes Italas; recalent nostro Thybrina fluenta 35
sanguine adhuc campique ingentes ossibus albent.
quo referor totiens? quae mentem insania mutat?
si Turno exstincto socios sum ascire paratus,
cur non incolumi potius certamina tollo?
quid consanguinei Rutuli, quid cetera dicet 40
Italia, ad mortem si te (fors dicta refutet!)
prodiderim, natam et conubia nostra petentem?
respice res bello varias, miserere parentis
longaevi, quem nunc maestum patria Ardea longe
dividit.' haudquaquam dictis violentia Turni 45
flectitur; exsuperat magis aegrescitque medendo.
ut primum fari potuit, sic institit ore:
'quam pro me curam geris, hanc precor, optime, pro me
deponas letumque sinas pro laude pacisci.
et nos tela, pater, ferrumque haud debile dextra 50
spargimus, et nostro sequitur de vulnere sanguis.
longe illi dea mater erit, quae nube fugacem
feminea tegat et vanis sese occulat umbris.'
At regina nova pugnae conterrita sorte
flebat et ardentem generum moritura tenebat: 55
'Turne, per has ego te lacrimas, per si quis Amatae
tangit honos animum: spes tu nunc una, senectae
tu requies miserae, decus imperiumque Latini
te penes, in te omnis domus inclinata recumbit.
unum oro: desiste manum committere Teucris. 60
qui te cumque manent isto certamine casus
et me, Turne, manent; simul haec invisa relinquam
lumina nec generum Aenean captiva videbo.'
accepit vocem lacrimis Lavinia matris
flagrantis perfusa genas, cui plurimus ignem 65
subiecit rubor et calefacta per ora cucurrit.
Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro
si quis ebur, aut mixta rubent ubi lilia multa
alba rosa, talis virgo dabat ore colores.
illum turbat amor figitque in virgine vultus; 70
ardet in arma magis paucisque adfatur Amatam:
'ne, quaeso, ne me lacrimis neve omine tanto
prosequere in duri certamina Martis euntem,
o mater; neque enim Turno mora libera mortis.
nuntius haec, Idmon, Phrygio mea dicta tyranno 75
haud placitura refer. cum primum crastina caelo
puniceis invecta rotis Aurora rubebit,
non Teucros agat in Rutulos, Teucrum arma quiescant
et Rutuli; nostro dirimamus sanguine bellum,
illo quaeratur coniunx Lavinia campo.' 80
Haec ubi dicta dedit rapidusque in tecta recessit,
poscit equos gaudetque tuens ante ora frementis,
Pilumno quos ipsa decus dedit Orithyia,
qui candore nives anteirent, cursibus auras.
circumstant properi aurigae manibusque lacessunt 85
pectora plausa cavis et colla comantia pectunt.
ipse dehinc auro squalentem alboque orichalco
circumdat loricam umeris, simul aptat habendo
ensemque clipeumque et rubrae cornua cristae,
ensem quem Dauno ignipotens deus ipse parenti 90
fecerat et Stygia candentem tinxerat unda.
exim quae mediis ingenti adnixa columnae
aedibus astabat, validam vi corripit hastam,
Actoris Aurunci spolium, quassatque trementem
vociferans: 'nunc, o numquam frustrata vocatus 95
hasta meos, nunc tempus adest: te maximus Actor,
te Turni nunc dextra gerit; da sternere corpus
loricamque manu valida lacerare revulsam
semiviri Phrygis et foedare in pulvere crinis
vibratos calido ferro murraque madentis.' 100
his agitur furiis, totoque ardentis ab ore
scintillae absistunt, oculis micat acribus ignis,
mugitus veluti cum prima in proelia taurus
terrificos ciet aut irasci in cornua temptat
arboris obnixus trunco, ventosque lacessit 105
ictibus aut sparsa ad pugnam proludit harena.
Nec minus interea maternis saevus in armis
Aeneas acuit Martem et se suscitat ira,
oblato gaudens componi foedere bellum.
tum socios maestique metum solatur Iuli 110
fata docens, regique iubet responsa Latino
certa referre viros et pacis dicere leges.
Find the glossary for Aeneid Daily here; subscribe to receive daily posts.
(in-law) (theoretically)
wife of Boreas, the North Wind