Book 12
dauntless in war; unceasingly she ran
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from rank to rank, spreading with skilful tongue
opinions manifold, and thus she spoke:
“Will ye not blush, Rutulians, so to stake
one life for many heroes? Are we not
their match in might and numbers? O, behold
those Trojan sons of Heaven making league
with exiled Arcady; see Tuscan hordes
storming at Turnus. Yet we scarce could find
one foe apiece, forsooth, if we should dare
fight them with half our warriors. Of a truth
your champion brave shall to those gods ascend
before whose altars his great heart he vows;
and lips of men while yet on earth he stays
will spread his glory far. Ourselves, instead,
must crouch to haughty masters, and resign
this fatherland upon whose fruitful fields
we dwell at ease.” So speaking, she inflamed
the warriors' minds, and through the legions ran
increasing whisper; the Laurentine host
and even Latium wavered. Those who late
prayed but for rest and safety, clamored loud
for arms, desired annulment of the league,
and pitied Turnus' miserable doom.
Whereon Juturna tried a mightier stroke,
a sign from heaven, which more than all beside
confused the Latins and deceived their hearts
with prodigy. For through the flaming skies
Jove's golden eagle swooped, and scattered far
a clamorous tribe of river-haunting birds;
then, swiftly to the waters falling, seized
one noble swan, which with keen, curving claws
he ruthless bore away: th' Italians all
watched eagerly, while the loud-screaming flock
wheeled upward (wondrous sight!), with host of wings
shadowed the sky, and in a legion-cloud
chased through the air the foe; till, overborne
by heavier odds, the eagle from his claws
flung back his victim to the waves, and fled
to the dim, distant heaven. The Rutules then