Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/458

434 The gathering hum, confused and drear,

Of the lost city strikes his ear.

'Alas! what sounds are these that rise,

The voice of grief and pain?

What tumult shakes the town?' he cries,

And wildly draws his rein.

His dauntless sister, as she plies

The chariot in Metiseus' guise,

Turned round and thus began:

'Nay, Turnus, urge we still our steeds

'Gainst the spent foe, where victory leads:

Latiuni has sons to serve her needs,

Her leaguered towers to man.

Æneas on the Italians falls,

And follows vengeance as she calls:

Such too be Turnus' aim;

Send death among his Teucrian train;

Not less your muster-roll of slain,

Nor less your share of fame.'

'Sister, I knew you' Turnus spoke

'When first by craft the truce you broke,

And plunged in battle's tide,

And now in vain you cheat mine eye:

But say, who sent you from the sky

This cruel woe to bide?

From heaven you came—for what? to see

Your brother's dying agony?

What can I else? what hope of life

Holds Fortune forth, in such a strife?

But now Murranus I beheld,

The mighty by the mighty quelled;

He fell, invoking as he fell

The recreant friend he loved too well.

See Ufens prostrate on his face

Averts his eyes from my disgrace,