Aeneid XII.311-410

Aeneas takes an arrow to the knee. Turnus rampages.

But virtuous Aeneas, his head bared, unarmed, stretched out

his right hand and called loudly to his troops:

“Where are you running to? Why this sudden tide of discord?

O, control your anger! The agreement has already been struck

and its terms fixed. I alone have the right to fight;

let me do so; banish your fears. I’ll prove the treaty sound

with this right hand; these rites mean Turnus is already mine.”

Amidst these cries and words, see, a hissing arrow

winged its way towards him, launched by what hand,

sent whirling by whom, was unknown, as was the chance

or god that brought the Rutulians such honour;

the glorious pride in it was kept concealed,

and no one boasted of wounding Aeneas.

As soon as Turnus saw Aeneas leave the ranks, his captains

in confusion, he blazed with the fervour of sudden hope;

he called for weapons and horses as one, leapt proudly

into his chariot, and gripped the reins in his hands.

He gave many a brave man death in his swift passage.

Many he overturned half-alive, crushed the ranks under his chariot,

or, seizing his spears, showered them on those fleeing.

Just as when blood-drenched Mars is roused and clashes

his shield by the icy streams of Hebrus¹ and, inciting war,

gives rein to his frenzied horses so that they fly over the open plain

outrunning the south and west winds, and farthest Thrace groans

to the beat of their hooves, while around him the forms of black

Terror, Anger and Treachery, speed, the companions of the god:

with the same swiftness Turnus lashed his horses,

smoking with sweat, through the midst of the conflict,

trampling on enemies piteously slain, while the galloping hooves

splashed bloody dew and trampled the gore mixed with sand.

Next he gave Sthenelus to death, Thamyrus, and Pholus, the latter

close to, the former at a distance; from a distance too

both sons of Imbrasas, Glaucus and Laudes, whom Imbrasus

himself had raised in Lycia and equipped with matching armour,

to fight hand to hand or outstrip the wind on horseback.

Elsewhere Eumedes rode through the midst of the battle,

famous in warfare, the son of aged Dolon,

recalling the grandfather in name, his father in courage

and skill, he who, in going as a spy that time to the Greek camp,

dared to ask for Achilles’s chariot as his reward;

but Diomedes paid him a different reward for his daring

and he no longer aspired to Achilles’s team.²

When Turnus saw Eumedes, far over the open plain, he first

sent a light javelin after him across the long space between,

then halted his paired horses, leapt from his chariot

onto the half-dead fallen man, and, planting his foot on his neck,

tore the sword from his hand and bloodied the bright blade

deep in his throat, adding these words as well:

“See the fields, that western land you sought in war:

lie there and measure it: this is the prize for those

who dare to cross swords with me, thus they build their walls.”

Then with a cast of his spear he sent Asbytes to keep him company,

Chloreus and Sybaris, Dares and Thersilochus, and Thymoetes

who was flung from the neck of his rearing horse.

As when the blast of the Edonian³ northerly sounds

over the Aegean deep and drives the breakers to shore,

while brooding gusts in the sky put the clouds to flight:

so, wherever Turnus cut a path, the lines gave way,

and the ranks turned and ran; his own speed carried him on

and, as the chariot met it, the wind tossed his flowing plume.

Phegeus could not endure his attack or his spirited war-cry:

he threw himself at the chariot and with his right hand wrenched

the heads of the swift horses aside as they foamed at the bit.

While he was dragged along, hanging from the yoke,

Turnus’s broad-headed lance reached for his exposed flank,

tore open the double-stranded mail where it entered,

and grazed the surface of the flesh in a wound.

Phegeus still turned towards his enemy, his shield raised,

and was trying to protect himself with his drawn sword,

when the wheel and the onrush of the spinning axle

sent him headlong, throwing him to the ground, and Turnus,

following through, struck off his head with a sweep of his blade

between the rim of the helmet and the chain-mail’s

upper edge, and left the body lying on the sand.

While Turnus was victoriously dealing death over the plain,

Mnestheus and loyal Achates, with Ascanius

by their side, set Aeneas down inside the camp,

bleeding, supporting alternate steps with his long spear.

He struggled furiously to pull out the head of the broken

shaft and called for the quickest means of assistance:

to cut open the wound with a broadsword, lay open

the arrow-tip’s buried depths, and send him back to war.

Now Iapyx, Iasus’s son, approached, dearest of all to Apollo,

to whom the god himself, struck by deep love, long ago

offered with delight his own arts, his own gifts,

his powers of prophecy, his lyre and swift arrows.

But Iapyx, in order to delay the fate of his dying father,

chose knowledge of the virtues of herbs and the use

of medicine and, without fame, to practise the silent arts.

Aeneas stood leaning on his great spear, complaining bitterly,

amongst a vast crowd of soldiers, with Iulus sorrowing,

himself unmoved by the tears. The aged Iapyx, his robe rolled back

in Paeonian⁴ fashion, tried hard in vain with healing fingers

and Apollo’s powerful herbs; he worked at the arrow uselessly

with his hand and tugged at the metal with tightened pincers.

No luck guided his course, nor did Apollo his patron help,

while cruel terror grew greater and greater over the plain,

and evil drew near. Now they saw the sky standing on

columns of dust: the horsemen neared and arrows fell

thickly in the midst of the camp. A dismal cry rose to heaven

of men fighting and falling under Mars’s harsh hand.

---

At pius Aeneas dextram tendebat inermem

nudato capite atque suos clamore vocabat:

'quo ruitis? quaeve ista repens discordia surgit?

o cohibete iras! ictum iam foedus et omnes

compositae leges. mihi ius concurrere soli;               315

me sinite atque auferte metus. ego foedera faxo

firma manu; Turnum debent haec iam mihi sacra.'

has inter voces, media inter talia verba

ecce viro stridens alis adlapsa sagitta est,

incertum qua pulsa manu, quo turbine adacta,               320

quis tantam Rutulis laudem, casusne deusne,

attulerit; pressa est insignis gloria facti,

nec sese Aeneae iactavit vulnere quisquam.

Turnus ut Aenean cedentem ex agmine vidit

turbatosque duces, subita spe fervidus ardet;               325

poscit equos atque arma simul, saltuque superbus

emicat in currum et manibus molitur habenas.

multa virum volitans dat fortia corpora leto.

seminecis volvit multos: aut agmina curru

proterit aut raptas fugientibus ingerit hastas.               330

qualis apud gelidi cum flumina concitus Hebri

sanguineus Mavors clipeo increpat atque furentis

bella movens immittit equos, illi aequore aperto

ante Notos Zephyrumque volant, gemit ultima pulsu

Thraca pedum circumque atrae Formidinis ora               335

Iraeque Insidiaeque, dei comitatus, aguntur:

talis equos alacer media inter proelia Turnus

fumantis sudore quatit, miserabile caesis

hostibus insultans; spargit rapida ungula rores

sanguineos mixtaque cruor calcatur harena.               340

iamque neci Sthenelumque dedit Thamyrumque Pholumque,

hunc congressus et hunc, illum eminus; eminus ambo

Imbrasidas, Glaucum atque Laden, quos Imbrasus ipse

nutrierat Lycia paribusque ornaverat armis

vel conferre manum vel equo praevertere ventos.               345

Parte alia media Eumedes in proelia fertur,

antiqui proles bello praeclara Dolonis,

nomine avum referens, animo manibusque parentem,

qui quondam, castra ut Danaum speculator adiret,

ausus Pelidae pretium sibi poscere currus;               350

illum Tydides alio pro talibus ausis

adfecit pretio nec equis aspirat Achilli.

hunc procul ut campo Turnus prospexit aperto,

ante levi iaculo longum per inane secutus

sistit equos biiugis et curru desilit atque               355

semianimi lapsoque supervenit, et pede collo

impresso dextrae mucronem extorquet et alto

fulgentem tingit iugulo atque haec insuper addit:

'en agros et, quam bello, Troiane, petisti,

Hesperiam metire iacens: haec praemia, qui me               360

ferro ausi temptare, ferunt, sic moenia condunt.'

huic comitem Asbyten coniecta cuspide mittit

Chloreaque Sybarimque Daretaque Thersilochumque

et sternacis equi lapsum cervice Thymoeten.

ac velut Edoni Boreae cum spiritus alto               365

insonat Aegaeo sequiturque ad litora fluctus,

qua venti incubuere, fugam dant nubila caelo:

sic Turno, quacumque viam secat, agmina cedunt

conversaeque ruunt acies; fert impetus ipsum

et cristam adverso curru quatit aura volantem.               370

non tulit instantem Phegeus animisque frementem

obiecit sese ad currum et spumantia frenis

ora citatorum dextra detorsit equorum.

dum trahitur pendetque iugis, hunc lata retectum

lancea consequitur rumpitque infixa bilicem               375

loricam et summum degustat vulnere corpus.

ille tamen clipeo obiecto conversus in hostem

ibat et auxilium ducto mucrone petebat,

cum rota praecipitem et procursu concitus axis

impulit effunditque solo, Turnusque secutus               380

imam inter galeam summi thoracis et oras

abstulit ense caput truncumque reliquit harenae.

Atque ea dum campis victor dat funera Turnus,

interea Aenean Mnestheus et fidus Achates

Ascaniusque comes castris statuere cruentum               385

alternos longa nitentem cuspide gressus.

saevit et infracta luctatur harundine telum

eripere auxilioque viam, quae proxima, poscit:

ense secent lato vulnus telique latebram

rescindant penitus, seseque in bella remittant.               390

iamque aderat Phoebo ante alios dilectus Iapyx

Iasides, acri quondam cui captus amore

ipse suas artis, sua munera, laetus Apollo

augurium citharamque dabat celerisque sagittas.

ille, ut depositi proferret fata parentis,               395

scire potestates herbarum usumque medendi

maluit et mutas agitare inglorius artis.

stabat acerba fremens ingentem nixus in hastam

Aeneas magno iuvenum et maerentis Iuli

concursu, lacrimis immobilis. ille retorto               400

Paeonium in morem senior succinctus amictu

multa manu medica Phoebique potentibus herbis

nequiquam trepidat, nequiquam spicula dextra

sollicitat prensatque tenaci forcipe ferrum.

nulla viam Fortuna regit, nihil auctor Apollo                405

subvenit, et saevus campis magis ac magis horror

crebrescit propiusque malum est. iam pulvere caelum

stare vident: subeunt equites et spicula castris

densa cadunt mediis. it tristis ad aethera clamor

bellantum iuvenum et duro sub Marte cadentum.               410

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Find the glossary for Aeneid Daily here; subscribe to receive daily posts.

1. a Thracian river

2. A reference to Iliad 10—Dolon is a Trojan sent out to spy on the Greeks, who get to him first.

3. Thracian

4. Paeonia = an ancient Macedonian culture