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the drooping head; as when some purpled flower,
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cut by the ploughshare, dies, or poppies proud
with stem forlorn their ruined beauty bow
before the pelting storm. Then Nisus flew
straight at his foes; but in their throng would find
Volscens alone, for none but Volscens stayed:
they gathered thickly round and grappled him
in shock of steel with steel. But on he plunged,
swinging in ceaseless circles round his head
his lightning-sword, and thrust it through the face
of shrieking Volscens, with his own last breath
striking his foeman down; then cast himself
upon his fallen comrade's breast; and there,
stabbed through, found tranquil death and sure repose.
Heroic pair and blest! If aught I sing
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have lasting music, no remotest age
shall blot your names from honor's storied scroll:
not while the altars of Aeneas' line
shall crown the Capitol's unshaken hill,
nor while the Roman Father's hand sustains
its empire o'er the world.
The Rutules seized the spoils of victory,
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and slowly to their camp, with wail and cry,
bore Volscens' corse; and in the eamp they made
like wailing over Rhamnes lifeless found,
o'er Numa and Serranus, and a throng
of princes dead. The gazing people pressed
around the slain, the dying, where the earth
ran red with slaughter and full many a stream
of trickling gore; nor did they fail to know
Messapus' glittering helm, his baldric fair,
recaptured now with lavish sweat and pain.
Now, from Tithonus' saffron couch set free,
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Aurora over many a land outpoured
the rising morn; the sun's advancing beam
unveiled the world; and Turnus to his host
gave signal to stand forth, while he arrayed
himself in glorious arms. Then every chief
awoke his mail-clad company, and stirred
their slumbering wrath with tidings from the foe.
