Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/311

 and stratagem, thus begins: "What great glory is it after all, if you, a woman, trust your mettled steed? Put away the chance of flight, and dare to meet me hand to hand on equal ground, and gird you for battle on foot: soon shall you see which of us gains honour from this       5 windy boasting." He said: but she, all on fire, stung with bitter grief, gives her horse to her comrade, and stands ready to meet him in arms, fearless though on foot, with naked sword and maiden shield. But the youth, deeming that his wiles had sped, darts away without more ado,       10 and turning his bridle, rides off in flight, and wearies his beast with the strokes of his iron heel. "False Ligurian, vainly puffed up with overweening fancies, to no end have you tried your sire's slippery craft, nor shall your lying bring you safe to Aunus the liar." So cries the maiden,      15 and with lightning-like pace crosses at full speed the horse's path, and seizing the reins, fronts and encounters him, and gluts her vengeance with his hated blood: easily as a hawk, the bird of augury, darting from a lofty rock, comes up with a dove high in the clouds, holds her in his gripe,     20 and with crooked talons tears out her heart, while gore and plucked feathers come tumbling from the sky.

But no blind spectator of the scene is sitting throned on high Olympus, even the father of men and gods. The sire urges Tarchon the Tuscan to the ruthless fray, and goads      25 him to wrath by no gentle stings. So among heaps of carnage and yielding bands Tarchon goes riding, and rouses the cavalry with words of diverse purport, calling each by his name, and gives the beaten new strength for battle. "What terror, O ye Tuscan hearts that will not      30 feel, that will still be sluggish, what strange cowardice has come on you? To what end is this steel, these idle weapons our right hands bear? But slow ye are not to hear the call of love, or when the wry-necked fife gives the word for the Bacchic dance: ay, there is your passion, there your       35 delight, till the favouring seer announce the sacrificial feast, and the fat victim invite you to the tall trees of the grove." So saying, he spurs his steed into the midst,