"Thou, Volusus, the Volscian troops command
To mount; and lead thyself our Ardean band.
Messapus, and Catillus, post your force
Along the fields, to charge the Trojan horse.
Some guard the passes; others man the wall;
Drawn up in arms, the rest attend my call."

They swarm from ev'ry quarter of the town,
And with disorder'd haste the rampires crown:
Good old Latinus, when he saw, too late,
The gath'ring storm just breaking on the state,
Dismiss'd the council till a fitter time,
And own'd his easy temper as his crime,
Who, forc'd against his reason, had complied
To break the treaty for the promis'd bride.
Some help to sink new trenches; others aid
To ram the stones, or raise the palisade.
Hoarse trumpets sound th' alarm: around the
walls
[calls.

Runs a distracted crew, whom their last labour
A sad procession in the streets is seen,
Of matrons that attend the mother-queen.
High in her chair she sits, and, at her side,
With downcast eyes appears the fatal bride.
They mount the cliff, where Pallas' temple
stands;

Pray'rs in their mouths, and presents in their

hands:

With censers, first they fume the sacred shrine, Then in this common supplication join: "O patroness of arms! unspotted maid! Propitious hear, and lend thy Latians aid! Break short the pirate's lance: pronounce his fate;

And lay the Phrygian low before the gate." Now Turnus arms for fight. His back and breast

Well-temper'd steel and scaly brass invest:
The cuishes, which his brawny thighs infold,
Are mingled metal, damask'd o'er with gold.
His faithful falchion sits upon his side;
Nor casque, nor crest, his manly features hide;
But, bare to view, amid surrounding friends,
With godlike grace, he from the tow'r descends.
Exulting in his strength, he seems to dare
His absent rival, and to promise war.

Freed from his keepers, thus, with broken reins,

The wanton courser prances o'er the plains,
Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the bounds,
And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds,
Or seeks his wat'ring in the well-known flood,
To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood:
He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain,
And o'er his shoulder flows his waving mane :
He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high;
Before his ample chest the frothy waters fly.

Soon as the prince appears without the gate, The Volscians, and their virgin leader, wait

His last commands. Then, with a graceful mien,

Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen:
Her squadron imitates, and each descends;
Whose common suit Camilla thus commends:
"If sense of honour, if a soul secure
Of inborn worth that can all tests endure,
Can promise aught, or on itself rely,
Greatly to dare, to conquer or to die ;
Then, I alone, sustain❜d by these, will meet
The Tyrrhene troops, and promise their defeat.
Ours be the danger, ours the sole renown:
You, gen'ral, stay behind, and guard the town."
Turnus a while stood mute with glad surprise,
And on the fierce virago fix'd his eyes;
Then thus return'd: "O grace of Italy,
With what becoming thanks can I reply?
Not only words lie lab'ring in my breast:
But thought itself is by thy praise oppress'd.
Yet rob me not of all; but let me join
My toils, my hazard, and my fame, with thine.
The Trojan, not in stratagem unskill'd,
Sends his light horse before to scour the field:
Himself, through steep ascents and thorny
brakes,

A larger compass to the city takes.

This news my scouts confirm: and I prepare
To foil his cunning, and his force to dare;
With chosen foot his passage to forelay,
And place an ambush in the winding way.
Thou, with thy Volscians, face the Tuscan
horse :

The brave Messapus shall thy troops enforce.
With those of Tibur, and the Latian band,
Subjected all to thy supreme command."

This said, he warns Messapus to the war, Then ev'ry chief exhorts with equal care. All thus encourag'd, his own troops he joins, And hastes to prosecute his deep designs.

Enclos'd with hills a winding valley lies, By nature form'd for fraud, and fitted for surprise :

A narrow track, by human steps untrod, Leads, through perplexing thorns, to this obscure abode.

High o'er the vale, a steepy mountain stands, Whence the surveying sight the nether ground commands.

The top is level-an offensive seat
Of war; and from the war a safe retreat:
For, on the right and left, is room to press
The foes at hand, or from afar distress;
To drive them headlong downward; and to pour,
On their descending backs, a stony show'r.
Thither young Turnus took the well-known way,
Possess'd the pass, and in blind ambush lay.

Meantime, Latonian Phoebe, from the skies, Beheld th' approaching war with fearful eyes,

And call'd the light-foot Opis to her aid,
Her most belov'd and ever-trusty maid;
Then with a sigh began: "Camilla goes
To meet her death amidst her fatal foes-
The nymph I lov'd of all my mortal train,
Invested with Diana's arms in vain.
Nor is my kindness for the virgin new :
'T was born with her; and with her years
grew.

Her father Metabus, when forc'd away
From old Privernum, for tyrannic sway,
Snatch'd up, and sav'd from his prevailing foes,
This tender babe, companion of his woes.
Casmilla was her mother: but he drown'd,
One hissing letter in a softer sound,
And call'd Camilla. Through the woods he
flies;

Wrapp'd in his robe, the royal infant lies.
His foes in sight, he mends his weary pace;
With shouts and clamours they pursue the
chase.

The banks of Amasene at length he gains:
The raging flood his further flight restrains,
Rais'd o'er the borders with unusual rains.
Prepar'd to plunge into the stream, he fears,
Not for himself, but for the charge he bears.
Anxious, he stops a while, and thinks in haste,
Then, desp❜rate in distress, resolves at last.
A knotty lance of well boil'd oak he bore:
The middle part with cork he cover'd o'er :
He clos'd the child within the hollow space;
With twigs of bending osier bound the case,
Then pois'd the spear, heavy with human
weight,

And thus invok'd my favour for the freight :
'Accept, great goddess of the woods, (he said,)
Sent by her sire, this dedicated maid!

Through air she flies, a suppliant to the shrine; And the first weapons that she knows, are thine.

He said; and with full force the spear he threw ;
Above the sounding waves Camilla flew.
Then, press'd by foes, he stemm'd the stormy
tide,

And gain'd, by stress of arms, the farther side.
His fasten'd spear he pull'd from out the ground,
And, victor of his vows, his infant nymph un-

bound;

Nor, after that, in towns which walls enclose, Would trust his hunted life amidst his foes; But, rough, in open air he chose to lie:

The little Amazon could scarcely go-
He loads her with a quiver and a bow;
And, that she might her stagg'ring steps com-
mand,

He with a slender jav'lin fills her hand,
Her flowing hair no golden fillet bound;
Nor swept her trailing robe the dusty ground.
Instead of these, a tiger's hide o'erspread
Her back and shoulders, fasten'd to her head.
The flying dart she first attempts to fling,
And round her tender temples toss'd the sling
Then, as her strength with years increas'd
began

To pierce aloft in air the soaring swan,
And from the clouds to fetch the heron and the

crane.

The Tuscan matrons with each other vied
To bless their rival sons with such a bride;
But she disdains their love, to share with me
The sylvan shades, and vow'd virginity.
And, oh! I wish, contented with my cares
Of savage spoils, she had not sought the wars:
Then had she been of my celestial train,
And shunn'd the fate that dooms her to be slain.
But since, opposing heav'n's decree, she goes
To find her death among forbidden foes,
Haste with these arms and take thy steepy

flight,

Where with the gods averse, the Latians fight.
This bow to thee, this quiver, I bequeath,
This chosen arrow to revenge her death:
By what'er hand Camilla shall be slain,
Or of the Trojan or Italian train,
Let him not pass unpunish'd from the plain.
Then, in a hollow cloud, myself will aid
To bear the breathless body of my maid.
Unspoil'd shall be her arms, and unprofan'd
Her holy limbs with any human hand,
And in a marble tomb laid in her native land.
She said. The faithful nymph descends from
high

With rapid flight, and cuts the sounding sky: Black clouds and stormy winds around her body fly.

By this, the Trojan and the Tuscan horse, Drawn up in squadrons, with united force Approach the walls: the sprightly coursers

bound,

On hills unshorn, or in a desert den,

He shunn'd the dire society of men.
A shepherd's solitary life he led :

His daughter with the milk of mares he fed.
The dugs of bears, and ev'ry savage beast,
He drew, and through her lips the liquor press'd.

Oppos'd to these, come on with furious force Messapus, Coras, and the Latian horse; These in a body plac'd on either hand, Sustain'd and clos'd by fair Camilla's band. Advancing in a line, they couch their spears And less and less the middle space appears.

Thick smoke obscures the field, and scarce are

seen

The neighing coursers, and the shouting men.
In distance of their darts they stop their course;
Then man to man they rush, and horse to horse.
The face of heav'n their flying jav❜lins hide;
And deaths unseen are dealt on either side.
Tyrrhenus, and Aconteus, void of fear,
By mettled coursers borne in full career,
Meet first oppos'd; and, with a mighty shock,
Their horses' heads against each other knock.
Far from his steed is fierce Aconteus cast,
As with an engine's force, or lightning's blast:
He rolls along in blood, and breathes his last.
The Latin squadron take a sudden fright,
And sling their shields behind, to save their
backs in flight.

Spurring at speed, to their own walls they drew;
Close in the rear the Tuscan troops pursue,
And urge their flight: Asylas leads the chase;
Till, seiz'd with shame, they wheel about and
face,

Receive their foes, and raise a threat'ning cry. The Tuscans take their turn to fear and fly.

So swelling surges with a thund'ring roar, Driv'n on each other's backs, insult the shore, Bound o'er the rocks, encroach upon the land, And far upon the beach eject the sand; Then backward, with a swing, they take their way

Repuls'd from upper ground, and seek their mother-sea;

With equal hurry quit th' invaded shore, And swallow back the sand and stones they spew'd before.

Twice were the Tuscans masters of the field, Twice by the Latins, in return repell'd. Asham'd at length, to the third charge they

ran

Both hosts resolv'd, and mingled man to man. Now dying groans are heard; the fields are strow'd

With falling bodies, and are drunk with blood.
Arms, horses, men, on heaps together lie:
Confus'd the fight, and more confus'd the cry.
Orsilochus, who durst not press too near,
Strong Remulus at distance drove his spear,
And struck the steel beneath his horse's ear..
The fiery steed, impatient of the wound,
Curvets, and, springing upwards with a bound,
His helpless lord, cast backward on the ground.
Catillus pierc'd Iolas first; then drew
His reeking lance, and at Herminius threw,
The mighty champion of the Tuscan crew.
His neck and throat unarm'd, his head was
bare,

But shaded with a length of yellow hair:
Secure, he fought, expos'd on ev'ry part,

A spacious mark for swords, and for the flying dart.

Across the shoulders came the feather'd wound;
Transfix'd, he fell, and doubled to the ground.
The sands with streaming blood are sanguine
dy'd,

And death, with honour sought on either side.
Resistless, through the war Camilla rode,
In danger unappall'd, and pleas'd with blood.
One side was bare for her exerted breast;
One shoulder with her painted quiver press'd.
Now from afar her fatal jav'lins play:
Now with her axe's edge she hews her way.
Diana's arms upon her shoulder sound;
And when too closely press'd, she quits the
ground,

From her bent bow she sends a backward wound.

Her maids, in martial pomp, on either side, Larina, Tulla, fierce Tarpeia, ride— Italians all-in peace, their queen's delight; In war, the bold companions of the fight.

queen:

So march'd the Thracian Amazons of old, When Thermodon with bloody billows roll'd; Such troops as these in shining arms were seen, When Theseus met in fight their maiden Such to the field Penthesilea led, From the fierce virgin when the Grecians fled; With such return'd triumphant from the war, Her maids with cries attend the lofty car; They clash with manly force their moony

shields;

With female shouts resound the Phrygian fields.
Who foremost, and who last, heroic maid,
On the cold earth were by thy courage laid?
Thy spear, of mountain-ash, Eumenius first,
With fury driv'n, from side to side transpierc'd:
A purple stream came spouting from the wound;
Bath'd in his blood he lies, and bites the ground.
Liris and Pagasus at once she slew :
The former, as the slacken'd reins he drew,
Of his faint steed-the latter, as he stretch'd
His arm to prop his friend-the jav❜lin reach'd.
By the same weapon, sent from the same hand,
Both fall together, and both spurn the sand.
Amastrus next is added to the slain;
The rest in rout she follows o'er the plain :
Tereus, Harpalycus, Demophoon
And Chromis, at full speed her fury shun.
Of all her beauty's darts, not one she lost
Each was attended with a Trojan ghost.
Young Ornytus bestrode a hunter steed,
Swift for the chase, and of Apulian breed.
Him, from afar, she spied in arms unknown :
O'er his broad back an ox's hide was thrown;
His helm a wolf, whose gaping jaws were
[his head.
A cov'ring for his cheeks, and grinn'd around

spread

He clench'd within his hand an iron prong, And tow'r'd above the rest, conspicuous in the throng,

Him soon she singled from the flying train,
And slew with ease; then thus insults the slain :
"Vain hunter! didst thou think through woods
to chase

The savage herd, a vile and trembling race?
Here cease thy vaunts, and own my victory:
A woman warrior was too strong for thee.
Yet, if the ghosts demand the conqu❜ror's name,
Confessing great Camilla, save thy shame."
Then Butes and Orsilochus she slew,
The bulkiest bodies of the Trojan crew-
But Butes breast to breast: the spear descends
Above the gorget, where his helmet ends,
And o'er the shield which his left side defends.
Orsilochus, and she, their coursers ply;
He seems to follow, and she seems to fly.
But in a narrower ring she makes the race;
And then he flies, and she pursues the chase.
Gath'ring at length on her deluded foe,
She swings her axe, and rises to the blow:
Full on the helm behind, with such a sway
The weapon falls, the riven steel gives way :
He groans,
he roars, he sues in vain for grace;
Brains, mingled with his blood, besmear his
face.

Astonish'd Aunus just arrives by chance,
To see bis fall, nor further dares advance;
But, fixing on the horrid maid his eye,
He stares, and shakes, and finds it vain to fly ;
Yet, like a true Ligurian, born to cheat,
(At least while Fortune favour'd his deceit)
Cries out aloud, "What courage have you
shown,
[own?
Who trust your courser's strength, and not your
Forego the 'vantage of your horse; alight;
And then on equal terms begin the fight:
It shall be seen, weak woman, what you can,
When, foot to foot, you combat with a man.'
He said. She glows with anger and disdain,
Dismounts with speed to dare him on the plain,
And leaves her horse at large among her train;
With her drawn sword defies him to the field,
And, marching, lifts aloft her maiden shield.
The youth, who thought his cunning did suc-
ceed,

Reins round his horse, and urges all his speed,
Adds the remembrance of the spur, and hides
The goring rowels in his bleeding sides.
"Vain fool, and coward!" said the lofty maid,
"Caught in the train, which thou thyself hast
laid!

On others practice thy Ligurian arts:
Thin stratagems, and tricks of little hearts,
Are lost on me: nor shalt thou safe retire,
With vaunting lies to thy fallacious sire."

At this, so fast her flying feet she sped,
That soon she strain'd beyond his horse's head:
Then turning short, at once she seiz'd the rein,
And laid the boaster grov'ling on the plain.
Not with more ease the falcon from above,
Trusses, in middle air, the trembling dove,
Then plumes the prey, in her strong pounces
bound:
[the ground.
The feathers, foul with blood, come tumbling to
Now mighty Jove, from his superior height,
With his broad eye surveys th' unequal fight.
He fires the breast of Tarchon with disdain,
And sends him to redeem th' abandon'd plain.
Between the broken ranks the Tuscan rides,
And these encourages, and those he chides;
Recalls each leader, by his name, from flight;
Renews their ardour, and restores the fight.
"What panic fear has seiz'd your souls? O
shame,

A brand perpetual of th' Etrurian name!
Cowards incurable! a woman's hand
Drives, breaks, and scatters your ignoble band!
Now cast away the sword, and quit the shield!
What use of weapons which you dare not
wield?

Not thus you fly your female foes by night,
Nor shun the feast when the full bowls invite;
When to fat off rings the glad augur calls,
And the shrill horn-pipe sounds to bacchanals.
These are your studied cares, your lewd de-
light-

Swift to debauch, but slow to manly fight."
Thus having said, he spurs amid the foes,
Not managing the life he meant to lose.
The first he found, he seiz'd, with headlong
haste,
[waist:
In his strong gripe, and clasp'd around the
'Twas Venulus, whom from his horse he tore,
And, (laid athwart his own,) in triumph bore.
Loud shouts ensue : the Latins turn their eyes,
And view the unusual sight with vast surprise.
The fiery Tarchon, flying o'er the plains,
Press'd in his arms, the pond'rous prey sustains,
Then, with his shorten'd spear, explores around
His jointed arms, to fix a deadly wound.
Nor less the captive struggles for his life :
He writhes his body to prolong the strife,
And, fencing for his naked throat, exerts
His utmost vigour, and the point averts.

So stoops the yellow eagle from on high,
And bears a speckled serpent through the sky,
Fast'ning his crooked talons on the prey:
The pris'ner hisses through the liquid way;
Resists the royal hawk; and though oppress'd,
She fights in volumes, and erects her crest:
Turn'd to her foe, she stiffens ev'ry scale,
And shoots her forky tongue, and whisks her
threat'ning tail.