So saying, with aspect terrible she spedearthward her way; and called from gloom of hellAlecto, woeful power, from cloudy throneamong the Furies, where her heart is fedwith horrid wars, wrath, vengeance, treason foul,and fatal feuds. Her father Pluto loathesthe creature he engendered, and with hateher hell-born sister-fiends the monster view.A host of shapes she wears, and many a frontof frowning black brows viper-garlanded.Juno to her this goading speech addressed:“O daughter of dark Night, arouse for methy wonted powers and our task begin!Lest now my glory fail, my royal namebe vanquished, while Aeneas and his crewcheat with a wedlock bond the Latin Kingand seize Italia's fields. Thou canst thrust ontwo Ioving brothers to draw sword and slay,and ruin homes with hatred, calling inthe scourge of Furies and avenging fires.A thousand names thou bearest, and thy waysof ruin multiply a thousand-fold.Arouse thy fertile breast! Go, rend in twainthis plighted peace! Breed calumnies and sowcauses of battle, till yon warrior hostscry out for swords and leap to gird them on.”

Straightway Alecto, through whose body flowsthe Gorgon poison, took her viewless wayto Latium and the lofty walls and towersof the Laurentian King. Crouching she satein silence on the threshold of the bowerwhere Queen Amata in her fevered soulpondered, with all a woman's wrath and fear,upon the Trojans and the marriage-suitof Turnus. From her Stygian hair the fienda single serpent flung, which stole its wayto the Queen's very heart, that, frenzy-driven,she might on her whole house confusion pour.Betwixt her smooth breast and her robe it woundunfelt, unseen, and in her wrathful mindinstilled its viper soul. Like golden chainaround her neck it twined, or stretched alongthe fillets on her brow, or with her hairenwrithing coiled; then on from limb to limbslipped tortuous. Yet though the venom strongthrilled with its first infection every vein,and touched her bones with fire, she knew it not,nor yielded all her soul, but made her pleain gentle accents such as mothers use;and many a tear she shed, about her child,her darling, destined for a Phrygian's bride:“O father! can we give Lavinia's handto Trojan fugitives? why wilt thou showno mercy on thy daughter, nor thyself;nor unto me, whom at the first fair windthat wretch will leave deserted, bearing farupon his pirate ship my stolen child?Was it not thus that Phrygian shepherd cameto Lacedaemon, ravishing awayHelen, the child of Leda, whom he boreto those false Trojan lands? Hast thou forgotthy plighted word? Where now thy boasted loveof kith and kin, and many a troth-plight givenunto our kinsman Turnus? If we needan alien son, and Father Faunus' wordsirrevocably o'er thy spirit brood,I tell thee every land not linked with oursunder one sceptre, but distinct and free,is alien; and 't is thus the gods intend.Indeed, if Turnus' ancient race be told,it sprang of Inachus, Acrisius,and out of mid-Mycenae.” But she seesher lord Latinus resolute, her wordsan effort vain; and through her body spreadsthe Fury's deeply venomed viper-sting.Then, woe-begone, by dark dreams goaded on,she wanders aimless, fevered and unstrungalong the public ways; as oft one seesbeneath the twisted whips a leaping topsped in long spirals through a palace-closeby lads at play: obedient to the thong,it weaves wide circles in the gaping viewof its small masters, who admiring seethe whirling boxwood made a living thingunder their lash. So fast and far she rovedfrom town to town among the clansmen wild.Then to the wood she ran, feigning to feelthe madness Bacchus loves; for she essaysa fiercer crime, by fiercer frenzy moved.Now in the leafy dark of mountain valesshe hides her daughter, ravished thus awayfrom Trojan bridegroom and the wedding-feast.“Hail, Bacchus! Thou alone,” she shrieked and raved,“art worthy such a maid. For thee she bearsthe thyrsus with soft ivy-clusters crowned,and trips ecstatic in thy beauteous choir.For thee alone my daughter shall unbindthe glory of her virgin hair.” Swift runsthe rumor of her deed; and, frenzy-driven,the wives of Latium to the forests fly,enkindled with one rage. They leave behindtheir desolated hearths, and let rude windso'er neck and tresses blow; their voices fillthe welkin with convulsive shriek and wail;and, with fresh fawn-skins on their bodies bound,they brandish vine-clad spears. The Queen herselflifts high a blazing pine tree, while she singsa wedding-song for Turnus and her child.With bloodshot glance and anger wild, she cries:“Ho! all ye Latin wives, if e'er ye knewkindness for poor Amata, if ye carefor a wronged mother's woes, O, follow me!Cast off the matron fillet from your brows,and revel to our mad, voluptuous song.”Thus, through the woodland haunt of creatures wild,Alecto urges on the raging Queenwith Bacchus' cruel goad. But when she deemedthe edge of wrath well whetted, and the houseof wise Latinus of all reason reft,then soared the black-winged goddess to the wallsof the bold Rutule, to the city built(So runs the tale) by beauteous Danaeand her Acrisian people, shipwrecked thereby south wind strong. Its name was Ardea in language of our sires, and that proud nameof Ardea still it wears, though proud no more.Here Turnus in the gloom of midnight layhalf-sleeping in his regal hall. For himAlecto her grim fury-guise put by,and wore an old crone's face, her baleful browdelved deep with wrinkled age, her hoary hairin sacred fillet bound, and garlandedwith leaf of olive: Calybe she seemed,an aged servitress ot Juno's shrine,and in this seeming thus the prince addressed:—“O Turnus, wilt thou tamely see thy toillavished in vain? and thy true throne consignedto Trojan wanderers? The King repelsthy noble wooing and thy war-won dower.He summons him a son of alien stemto take his kingdom. Rouse thee now, and front,scorned and without reward, these perilous days.Tread down that Tuscan host! Protect the peaceof Latium from its foe! Such is the wordwhich, while in night and slumber thou wert laid,Saturnia's godhead, visibly revealed,bade me declare. Up, therefore, and arraythy warriors in arms! Swift sallying forthfrom thy strong city-gates, on to the frayexultant go! Assail the Phrygian chiefswho tent them by thy beauteous river's marge,and burn their painted galleys! 't is the willof gods above that speaks. Yea, even the KingLatinus, if he will not heed thy plea,or hear thy wooing, shall be taught too latewhat Turnus is in panoply of war.”

In mocking answer to the prophetessthe warrior thus replied: “That stranger fleetin Tiber moored, not, as thy folly prates,of me unnoted lies. Vex me no morewith thy fantastic terror. Juno's poweris watchful of my cause. 'T is mere old age,gone to decay and dotage, fills thy breastwith vain foreboding, and, while kings contend,scares and deceives thy visionary eye.Guard thou in yonder temple's holy shadethe images divine! Of peace and warlet men and warriors the burden bear!”

So kindled he Alecto's wrath to flame;and even as he spoke a shudder thrilledthe warrior's body, and his eyeballs stoodstonily staring at the hydra hairwhich hissed and writhed above the grisly headof the large-looming fiend. With eyes of firehorribly rolling, she repelled him far,while he but faltered speechless. She upraisedtwo coiling snakes out of her tresses, crackedthe lashes of her scourge, and wrathfully,with raving lips replied: “Look well on me,gone to decay and dotage of old age!And mocked with foolish fear while kings contend!Wilt hearken now! Behold me, hither flownfrom where my sister-furies dwell! My handsbring bloody death and war.” She spoke, and hurledher firebrand at the hero, thrusting deepbeneath his heart her darkly smouldering flame.Then horror broke his sleep, and fearful sweatdripped from his every limb. He shrieked aloudfor arms; and seized the ready arms that layaround his couch and hall. Then o'er his soulthe lust of battle and wild curse of warbroke forth in angry power, as when the flamesof faggots round the bubbling cauldron sing,and up the waters leap; the close-kept floodbrims over, streaming, foaming, breaking bound,and flings thick clouds in air. He, summoninghis chieftains, bade them on Latinus move,break peace, take arms, and, over Italy their shields extending, to thrust forth her foe:himself for Teucrian with Latin joinedwas more than match. He called upon the godsin witness of his vows: while, nothing loth,Rutulia's warriors rushed into array;some by his youth and noble beauty moved,some by his kingly sires and fame in arms.

While Turnus stirred Rutulia's valiant souls,Alecto on her Stygian pinions spedto where the Teucrians lay. She scanned the groundwith eager guile, where by the river's margefair-browed Iulus with his nets and snaresrode fiercely to the chase. Then o'er his houndsthat hell-born virgin breathed a sudden rage,and filled each cunning nostril with the scentof stags, till forth in wild pursuit they flew.Here all the woe began, and here awokein rustic souls the swift-enkindling war.For a fair stag, tall-antlered, stolen awayeven from its mother's milk, had long been keptby Tyrrhus and his sons—the shepherd heof all the royal flocks, and foresterof a wide region round. With fondest caretheir sister Silvia entwined its hornswith soft, fresh garlands, tamed it to run close,and combed the creature, or would bring to batheat a clear, crystal spring. It knew the handsof all its gentle masters, and would feedfrom their own dish; or wandering through the wood,come back unguided to their friendly door,though deep the evening shade. Iulus' dogsnow roused this wanderer in their ravening chase,as, drifted down-stream far from home it lay,on a green bank a-cooling. From bent bowAscanius, eager for a hunter's praise,let go his shaft; nor did Alecto failhis aim to guide: but, whistling through the air,the light-winged reed pierced deep in flank and side.Swift to its cover fled the wounded thing,and crept loud-moaning to its wonted stall,where, like a blood-stained suppliant, it seemedto fill that shepherd's house with plaintive prayer.Then Silvia the sister, smiting ofton breast and arm, made cry for help, and calledthe sturdy rustics forth in gathering throng.These now (for in the silent forest couchedthe cruel Fury) swift to battle flew.One brandished a charred stake, another swunga knotted cudgel, as rude anger shapesits weapon of whate'er the searching eyefirst haps to fall on. Tyrrhus roused his clans,just when by chance he split with blows of wedgean oak in four; and, panting giant breath,shouldered his woodman's axe. Alecto then,prompt to the stroke of mischief, soared aloftfrom where she spying sate, to the steep roofof a tall byre, and from its peak of strawblew a wild signal on a shepherd's horn,outflinging her infernal note so farthat all the forest shuddered, and the grovethrobbed to its deepest glen. Cold Trivia's lakefrom end to end gave ear, and every waveof the white stream of Nar, the lonely poolsof still Velinus heard: while at the soundpale mothers to their breasts their children drew.Swift to the signal of the dreadful horn, snatching their weapons rude, the freeborn swainsassembled for the fray; the Trojan bandspoured from their bivouac with instant aid for young Ascanius. In array of warboth stand confronting. Not mere rustic brawlwith charred oak-staff and cudgel is the fight,but with the two-edged steel; the naked swordswave like dark-bladed harvest-field, while farthe brazen arms flash in the smiting sun,and skyward fling their beam: so some wide sea,at first but whitened in the rising wind,swells its slow-rolling mass and ever higherits billows rears, until the utmost deeplifts in one surge to heaven. The first to fallwas Almo, eldest-born of Tyrrhus' sons,whom, striding in the van, a loud-winged shaftlaid low in death; deep in his throat it clung,and silenced with his blood the dying cryof his frail life. Around him fell the formsof many a brave and strong; among them diedgray-haired Galaesus pleading for a truce:righteous he was, and of Ausonian fieldsa prosperous master; five full flocks had heof bleating sheep, and from his pastures camefive herds of cattle home; his busy churlsturned with a hundred ploughs his fruitful glebe.

While o'er the battle-field thus doubtful swungthe scales of war, the Fury (to her tasknow equal proven) having dyed the daya deep-ensanguined hue, and opened fightwith death and slaughter, made no tarryingwithin Hesperia, but skyward soared,and, Ioud in triumph, insolently thusto Juno called: “See, at thy will, their strifefull-blown to war and woe! Could even thyselfcommand them now to truce and amity?But I, that with Ausonia's blood befoultheir Trojan hands, yet more can do, if thoushift not thy purpose. For with dire alarmsI will awake the bordering states to warenkindling in their souls the frenzied lustthe war-god breathes; till from th' horizon roundthe reinforcement pours—I scattering seedsof carnage through the land.” In answer spokejuno: “Enough of artifice and fear!Thy provocation works. Now have they joinedin close and deadly combat, and warm bloodthose sudden-leaping swords incarnadines,which chance put in their hands. Such nuptial joys,such feast of wedlock, let the famous sonof Venus with the King Latinus share!But yon Olympian Sire and King no morepermits thee freely in our skies to roam.Go, quit the field! Myself will take controlof hazards and of labors yet to be.”Thus Saturn's daughter spoke. Alecto then,unfolding far her hissing, viperous wings,turned toward her Stygian home, and took farewellof upper air. Deep in Italia liesa region mountain-girded, widely famed,and known in olden songs from land to land:the valley of Amsanctus; deep, dark shadesenclose it between forest-walls, wherebythrough thunderous stony channel serpentinesa roaring fall. Here in a monstrous caveare breathing-holes of hell, a vast abysswhere Acheron opes wide its noisome jaws:in this Alecto plunged, concealing soher execrable godhead, while the airof earth and heaven felt the curse removed.

Forthwith the sovereign hands of Juno hasteto consummate the war. The shepherds bearback from the field of battle to the townthe bodies of the slain: young Almo's corseand gray Galaesus' bleeding head. They calljust gods in heaven to Iook upon their wrong,and bid Latinus see it. Turnus comes,and, while the angry mob surveys the slain,adds fury to the hour. “Shall the landhave Trojan lords? Shall Phrygian marriagesdebase our ancient, royal blood—and Ibe spurned upon the threshold?” Then drew nearthe men whose frenzied women-folk had heldbacchantic orgies in the pathless grove,awed by Amata's name: these, gathering,sued loud for war. Yea, all defied the signsand venerable omens; all withstooddivine decrees, and clamored for revenge,prompted by evil powers. They besiegedthe house of King Latinus, shouting-loudwith emulous rage. But like a sea-girt rockunmoved he stood; like sea-girt rock when surgeof waters o'er it sweeps, or howling wavessurround; it keeps a ponderous front of power,though foaming cliffs around it vainly roar;from its firm base the broken sea-weeds fall.But when authority no whit could changetheir counsels blind, and each event fulfilleddread Juno's will, then with complaining prayerthe aged sire cried loud upon his godsand on th' unheeding air: “Alas,” said he,“My doom is shipwreck, and the tempest bearsmy bark away! O wretches, your own bloodshall pay the forfeit for your impious crime.O Turnus! O abominable deed!Avenging woes pursue thee; to deaf godsthy late and unavailing prayer shall rise.Now was my time to rest. But as I comeclose to my journey's end, thou spoilest meof comfort in my death.” With this the Kingfled to his house and ceased his realm to guide.

A sacred custom the Hesperian landof Latium knew, by all the Alban hillshonored unbroken, which wide-ruling Rome keeps to this day, when to new stroke she stirsthe might of Mars; if on the Danube's waveresolved to fling the mournful doom of war,or on the Caspian folk or Arabs wild;or chase the morning far as India's verge,ind from the Parthian despot wrest awayour banners Iost. Twin Gates of War there be,of fearful name, to Mars' fierce godhead vowed:a hundred brass bars shut them, and the strengthof uncorrupting steel; in sleepless watchJanus the threshold keeps. 'T is here, what timethe senate's voice is war, the consul gravein Gabine cincture and Quirinal shifthimself the griding hinges backward moves,and bids the Romans arm; obedient thenthe legionary host makes Ioud acclaim,and hoarse consent the brazen trumpets blow.Thus King Latinus on the sons of Troy was urged to open war, and backward rollthose gates of sorrow: but the aged kingrecoiled, refused the loathsome task, and fledto solitary shades. Then from the skiesthe Queen of gods stooped down, and her sole handthe lingering portal moved; Saturnia swung on their hinges the barred gates of war.ausonia from its old tranquillitybursts forth in flame. Foot-soldiers through the fieldrun to and fro; and mounted on tall steedsthe cavaliers in clouds of dust whirl by.All arm in haste. Some oil the glittering shieldor javelin bright, or on the whetstone weargood axes to an edge, while joyful bandsuplift the standards or the trumpets blow.Five mighty cities to their anvils bringnew-tempered arms: Atina—martial name —proud Tibur, Ardea, Crustumium,and river-walled Antemnae, crowned with towersstrong hollow helmets on their brows they drawand weave them willow-shields; or melt and mouldcorselets of brass or shining silver greaves;none now for pruning-hook or sacred ploughhave love or care: but old, ancestral swordsfor hardier tempering to the smith they bring.Now peals the clarion; through the legions passthe watchwords: the impatient yeoman takeshis helmet from the idle roof-tree hung;while to his chariot the master yokesthe mettled war-horse, dons a shining shieldand golden mail, and buckles his good sword.

Virgins of Helicon, renew my song!Instruct me what proud kings to battle flownwith following legions throng the serried plain.Tell me what heroes and illustrious armsItalia's bosom in her dawning daybenignant bore: for your celestial minds,have memory of the past, but faint and lowsteals glory's whisper on a mortal ear.

Foremost in fight, from shores Etrurian cameMezentius, scornful rebel against Heaven,his people all in arms; and at his sideLausus his heir (no fairer youth than he,save Turnus of Laurentum), Lausus, skilledo break proud horses and wild beasts to quell;who from Agylla's citadel in vainled forth his thousand warriors: worthy heto serve a nobler sire, and happier farhe had ne'er been born Mezentius' son.

Next after these, conspicuous o'er the plain,with palm-crowned chariot and victorious steeds,rode forth well-moulded Aventinus, sprungfrom shapely Hercules; upon the shieldhis blazon was a hundred snakes, and showedhis father's hydra-cincture serpentine;him deep in Aventine's most secret grovethe priestess Rhea bore—a mortal maidclasped in a god's embrace the wondrous daywhen, flushed with conquest of huge Geryon,the lord of Tiryns to Laurentum drove,and washed in Tiber's wave th' Iberian kine.His followers brandished pointed pikes and staves,or smooth Sabellian bodkin tipped with steel;but he, afoot, swung round him as he strodea monstrous lion-skin, its bristling maneand white teeth crowning his ferocious brow:for garbed as Hercules he sought his King.

Then came twin brethren, leaving Tibur's keep(named from Tiburtus, brother of them twain)Catillus and impetuous Coras, youthof Argive seed, who foremost in the vanpressed ever where the foemen densest throng:as when two centaurs, children of the cloud,from mountain-tops descend in swift career,the snows of Homole and Othrys leaving,while crashing thickets in their pathway fall.

Nor was Praeneste's founder absent there,by Vulcan sired, among the herds and hinds,and on a hearth-stone found (so runs the taleeach pious age repeats) King Caeculuswith rustic legions gathered from afar:from steep Praeneste and the Gabian valeto Juno dear, from Anio's cold stream,from upland Hernic rocks and foaming rills,from rich Anagnia's pastures, and the plainwhence Amasenus pours his worshipped wave.Not all of armor boast, and seldom soundthe chariot and shield; but out of slingsthey hurl blue balls of lead, or in one handa brace of javelins bear; pulled o'er their browsare hoods of tawny wolf-skin; as they marchthe left foot leaves a barefoot track behind,a rawhide sandal on the right they wear.

Messapus came, steed-tamer, Neptune's son,by sword and fire invincible: this day,though mild his people and unschooled in war,he calls them to embattled lines, and drawsno lingering sword. Fescennia musters there,Aequi Falisci, and what clans possessSoracte's heights, Flavinia's fruitful farms,Ciminian lake and mountain, and the grovesabout Capena. Rank on rank they move,loud singing of their chieftain's praise: as whena flock of snowy swans through clouded airreturn from feeding, and make tuneful cryfrom their long throats, while Asia's rivers hear,and lone Cayster's startled moorland rings:for hardly could the listening ear discernthe war-cry of a mail-clad host; the soundwas like shrill-calling birds, when home from seatheir soaring flock moves shoreward like a cloud.

Then, one of far-descended Sabine name,Clausus advanced, the captain of a host,and in himself an equal host he seemed;from his proud loins the high-born Claudian stemthrough Latium multiplies, since Roman powerwith Sabine first was wed. A cohort camefrom Amiternum and the olden wallof Cures, called Quirites even then;Eretum answered and Mutusca's hillwith olives clad, Velinus' flowery field,nomentum's fortress, the grim precipiceof Tetrica, Severus' upland fair,Casperia, Foruli, Himella's waves,Tiber and Fabaris, and wintry streamsof Nursia; to the same proud muster spedTuscan with Latin tribes, and loyal townsbeside whose walls ill-omened Allia flows.As numerous they moved as rolling wavesthat stir smooth Libyan seas, when in cold floodssinks grim Orion's star; or like the throngof clustering wheat-tops in the summer sun,near Hermus or on Lycia's yellowing plain:shields clashed; their strong tramp smote the trembling ground.

Now Agamemnon's kinsman, cruel foeto the mere name of Troy, Halaesus, yokesthe horses of his car and summons fortha thousand savage clans at Turnus' call :rude men whose mattocks to the Massic hillsbring Bacchus' bounty, or by graybeard siressent from Auruncan upland and the meadof Sidicinum; out of Cales cameits simple folk; and dwellers by the streamof many-shoaled Volturnus, close-alliedwith bold Saticulan or Oscan swains.Their arms are tapered javelins, which they wearbound by a coiling thong; a shield concealsthe left side, and they fight with crooked swords.

Nor shalt thou, Oebalus, depart unsung,whom minstrels say the nymph Sebethis boreto Telon, who in Capri was a kingwhen old and gray; but that disdaining sonquitted so small a seat, and conquering swayamong Sarrastian folk and those wide plainswatered by Sarnus' wave, became a kingover Celenna, Rufrae, Batulum,and where among her apple-orchards riseAbella's walls. All these, as Teutons use, hurl a light javelin; for helm they wearstripped cork-tree bark; the crescent of their shieldsis gleaming bronze, and gleaming bronze the sword.

Next Ufens, mountain-bred, from Nersae cameto join the war; of goodly fame was hefor prosperous arms: his Aequian people showno gentle mien, but scour the woods for prey,or, ever-armed, across the stubborn glebecompel the plough; though their chief pride and joyare rapine, violence, and plundered store.

Next after these, his brows and helmet boundwith noble olive, from Marruvium camea priest, brave Umbro, ordered to the fieldby King Archippus: o'er the viper's brood,and venomed river-serpents he had powerto scatter slumber with wide-waving handsand wizard-songs. His potent arts could soothetheir coiling rage and heal the mortal sting:but 'gainst a Trojan sword no drug had he,nor could his drowsy spells his flesh repair,nor gathered simples from the Marsic hills.Thee soon in wailing woods Anguitia mourned,thee, Fucinus, the lake of crystal wave,thee, many a mountain-tarn!

Next, Virbius in martial beauty rode,son of Hippolytus, whose mother, proudAricia, sent him in his flower of fameout of Egeria's hills and cloudy groveswhere lies Diana's gracious, gifted fane.For legend whispers that Hippolytus,by step-dame's plot undone, his life-blood gaveto sate his vengeful father, and was rentin sunder by wild horses; but the graveto air of heaven and prospect of the starsrestored him;—for Diana's love and carepoured out upon him Paeon's healing balm.But Jove, almighty Sire, brooked not to seea mortal out of death and dark reclimbto light of life, and with a thunderbolthurled to the Stygian river Phoebus' son,who dared such good elixir to compound.But pitying Trivia hid Hippolytusin her most secret cave, and gave in wardto the wise nymph Egeria in her grove;where he lived on inglorious and alone,ranging the woods of Italy, and borethe name of Virbius. 'T is for this causethe hallowed woods to Trivia's temple vowedforbid loud-footed horses, such as spilledstripling and chariot on the fatal shore,scared by the monsters peering from the sea.Yet did the son o'er that tumultuous plainhis battle-chariot guide and plunging team.