1170

Of early worth, and sure presage of more?
Accept whate'er Æneas can afford;
Untouch'd thy arms, untaken be thy sword;
And all that pleas'd thee living, still remain
Inviolate, and sacred to the slain.
Thy body on thy parents I bestow,
To rest thy soul, at least, if shadows
know,

Or have a sense of human things below.
There to thy fellow ghosts with glory tell:
"T was by the great Æneas' hand I fell.'”
With this, his distant friends he beckons

I ow'd my people these, and, from their

hate,

With less resentment could have borne my

fate.

And yet I live, and yet sustain the sight Of hated men, and of more hated light:

1220

And threaten'd with his long protended

spear.

To whom Mezentius thus: " Thy vaunts

are vain.

My Lausus lies extended on the plain: He's lost thy conquest is already won; The wretched sire is murther'd in the

son.

Nor fate I fear, but all the gods defy. Forbear thy threats: my bus'ness is to die;

1260

But first receive this parting legacy." He said; and straight a whirling dart he sent;

Another after, and another went. Round in a spacious ring he rides the` field,

And vainly plies th' impenetrable shield. Thrice rode he round; and thrice Eneas wheel'd,

Turn'd as he turn'd: the golden orb withstood

The strokes, and bore about an iron wood.
Impatient of delay, and weary grown, 171
Still to defend, and to defend alone,
To wrench the darts which in his buckler
light,

Urg'd and o'er-labor'd in unequal fight;
At length resolv'd, he throws with all his

force

Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty strain? Struggling, and wildly staring on the skies,

66

With scarce recover'd sight he thus replies: Why these insulting words, this waste of breath,

To souls undaunted, and secure of death?
"T is no dishonor for the brave to die,
Nor came I here with hope of victory;
Nor ask I life, nor fought with that design:
As I had us'd my fortune, use thou thine.
My dying son contracted no such band; 1301
The gift is hateful from his murd❜rer's
hand.

For this, this only favor let me sue,
If pity can to conquer'd foes be due:
Refuse it not; but let my body have
The last retreat of humankind, a grave.
Too well I know th' insulting people's hate;
Protect me from their vengeance after fate:
This refuge for my poor remains provide,
And lay my much-lov'd Lausus by my
side."

1310

He said, and to the sword his throat applied.

The crimson stream distain'd his arms around,

And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound.

THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE

ENEIS

THE ARGUMENT

Eneas erects a trophy of the spoils of Mezentius, grants a truce for burying the dead, and sends home the body of Pallas with great solemnity. Latinus calls a council, to propose offers of peace to Eneas; which occasions great animosity betwixt Turnus and Drances. In the mean time there is a sharp engagement of the horse; wherein Camilla signalizes herself; is kill'd; and the Latine troops are entirely defeated.

SCARCE had the rosy Morning rais'd her head

Above the waves, and left her wat❜ry bed; The pious chief, whom double cares attend For his unburied soldiers and his friend, Yet first to Heav'n perform'd a victor's

VOWS:

He bar'd an ancient oak of all her boughs; Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac'd,

Which with the spoils of his dead foe he

grac'd.

The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn, Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, 10 Was hung on high, and glitter'd from afar, A trophy sacred to the God of War.

Above his arms, fix'd on the leafless wood, Appear'd his plumy crest, besmear'd with blood:

His brazen buckler on the left was seen; Truncheons of shiver'd lances hung between;

And on the right was plac'd his corslet, bor'd;

And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword.

A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike