But found advice, proceeding from a heart
Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.

The gods, by figns, have manifeftly shown,
No prince, Italian born, fhould heir my throne: +45
Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill❜d,
And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal'd.
Yet, won by worth, that cannot be withstood;
Brib'd by my kindness to my kindred blood,
Urg'd by my wife, who would not be deny'd,
I promis'd my Lavinia for your bride:
Her from her plighted lord by force I took;
All ties of treaties and of honour broke:

On your account I wag'd an impious war, With what fuccefs 'tis needless to declare; *I and my subjects feel; and you have had your share. Twice vanquish'd, while in bloody fields we ftrive, * Scarce in our walls we keep our hopes alive: The rolling flood runs warm with human gore; The bones of Latians glance the neighbouring shore : "60 *Why put I not an end to this debate,

* Still unrefolv'd, and still a flave to fate?
If Turnus' death a lafting peace can give,
Why fhould not I procure it whilft you live?
Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray,
What would my kinfmen, the Rutulians, say?
And should you fall in fight, (which heaven defend)
How curfe the cause, which haften'd to his end,
The daughter's lover, and the father's friend?
Weigh in your mind the various chance of war,
Pity your parent's age, and ease his care.

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Such

Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain;
The proffer'd medicine, but provok'd the pain.
The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief,
With intermitting fobs, thus vents his grief:
Thy care, O best of fathers, which you take
For my concerns, at my defire forfake.
Permit me not to languifh out my days;
But make the best exchange of life for praife.

This arm, this lance, can well dispute the prize;
And the blood follows, where the weapon flies:
His goddess mother is not near, to shrowd
The flying coward with an empty cloud.

But now the queen, who fear'd for Turnus' life,
And loath'd the hard conditions of the ftrife,
Held him by force; and, dying in his death,
In these fad accents gave her forrow breath :
O Turnus, I adjure thee by these tears;
And whate'er price Amata's honour bears
Within thy breaft, fince thou art all my hope,
My fickly mind's repofe, my finking age's prop:;
Since on the fafety of thy life alone

Depends Latinus, and the Latian throne.
Refufe me not this one, this only prayer,

To waive the combat, and pursue the war.
Whatever chance atttends this fatal ftrife,
Think it includes in thine Amata's life.
I cannot live a flave; or fee my throne
Ufurp'd by ftrangers, or a Trojan fon.

At this a flood of tears Lavinia fed

A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erfpread,
Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red.
VO.L. VII.

E

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80

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90

95

The

The driving colours, never at a stay,

Run here and there; and flush, and fade away.
Delightful change! thus Indian ivory shows, 105
Which, with the bordering paint of purple glows;
Or lilies damafk'd by the neighbouring rofe.
The lover gaz'd, and, burning with defire,
The more he look'd, the more he fed the fire:
Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spight,
Roll in his breast, and rouze him to the fight.
Then fixing on the queen his ardent' eyes,
Firm to his first intent, he thus replies :
O, mother, do not, by your tears, prepare
Such boding omens, and prejudge the war.
Refolv'd on fight, I am no longer free
To shun my death, if heaven my death decree.
Then, turning to the herald, thus pursues;
Go, greet the Trojan with ungrateful news.
Denounce from me, that when to-morrow's light
Shall gild the heavens, he need not urge the fight:
The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more
Shall dye, with mutual blood, the Latian shore:
Our fingle swords the quarrel shall decide,
And to the victor be the beauteous bride.

He said, and striding on, with speedy pace

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He fought his courfers of the Thracian race.

At his approach, they tofs their heads on high.;

And, proudly neighing, promife victory.

The fires of these Orithia fent from far,
To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war.

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The

The drifts of Tracian fnows were fcarce fo white, Nor northern winds in fleetness match'd their flight. Officious grooms ftand ready by his fide;

And fome with combs their flowing manes divide; And others stroke their chests, and gently footh their pride.

:

He fheath'd his limbs in arms; a temper'd mass
Of golden metal those, and mountain brass.
Then to his head his glittering helm he ty'd ;
And girt his faithful fauchion by his fide.
In his Ætnean forge, the god of fire
That fauchion labour'd for the hero's fire
Immortal keennef's on the blade bestow'd,
And plung'd it hiffing in the Stygian flood.
Prop'd on a pillar, which the cieling bore,
Was plac'd the lance Auruncan Actor wore;
Which with fuch force he brandish'd in his hand,
Thy tough ash trembled like an ofier wand.
Then cry'd, O ponderous fpoil of Actor flain,
And never yet by Turnus tofs'd in vain,
Fail not, this day, thy wonted force: but go,
Sent by this hand, to pierce the Trojan foe :
Give me to tear his corflet from his breast,
And from that eunuch head, to rend the creft:
Drag'd in the duft, his frizzled hair to foil,

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Hot from the vexing ir'n, and smear'd with fragrant oil. Thus while he raves, from his wide noftrils flies

A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes.
So fares the bull in his lov'd female's fight;
Proudly he bellows, and preludes the fight:

160

He tries his goring horns against a tree;

And meditates his abfent enemy:

He pushes at the winds, he digs the strand

With his black hoofs, and fpurns the yellow fand.
Nor lefs the Trojan, in his Lemnian arms, ́
To future fight his manly courage warms:
He whets his fury, and with joy prepares
To terminate at once the lingering wars.

To chear his chiefs, and tender fon, relates

16:5

What heaven had promis'd, and expounds the fates. 170 Then to the Latian king he fends, to cease

The rage of arms, and ratify the

peace.

The morn, ensuing from the mountain's height,
Had scarcely spread the fkies with rofy light;
Th' ethereal courfers, bounding, from the sea,
From out their flaming noftrils breath'd the day:
When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard,
Iu. friendly labour join'd, the lift prepar'd.

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Beneath the walls, they measure out the space; 179
Then facred altars rear, on fods of grafs;
Where, with religious rites, their common gods they
place.

In pureft white the priests their heads attire,
And living waters bear, and holy fire:
And o'er their linen hoods, and fhaded hair,
Long twifted wreaths of facred yervain wear.
In order iffuing from the town appears
The Latin legion, arm'd with pointed fpears;
And from the fields, advancing on a line,
The Trojan and the Tuscan forces join:

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2

Their