Mythology, Greek -- Juvenile literature; Mythology, Roman -- Juvenile literature
Then spake with a smile the Maker of all things, “Truly thou art a
daughter of Saturn, so fierce is the wrath of thy soul! And now what
thou prayest I give. The Italians shall not change name, nor speech,
nor garb. The men of Troy shall mingle with them, and I will give them
a new worship, and call them all Latins. Nor shall any race pay thee
more honor than they.”
Then Jupiter sent a Fury from the pit. And she took the form of a
bird, even of an owl that sitteth by night on the roof of a desolate
house, and flew before the face of Turnus and flapped her wings against
his shield. Then was Turnus stricken with great fear, so that his
hair stood up and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. And when
Juturna knew the sound of the false bird what it was, she cried aloud
for fear, and left her brother and fled, hiding herself in the river of
Tiber.
But Æneas came on, shaking his spear that was like unto a tree, and
said, “Why delayest thou, O Turnus? Why drawest thou back? Fly now if
thou canst through the air, or hide thyself in the earth.” And Turnus
made answer, “I fear not thy threats, but the gods and Jupiter, that
are against me this day.” And as he spake he saw a great stone which
lay hard by, the landmark of a field. Scarce could twelve chosen men,
such as men are now, lift it on their shoulders. This he caught from
the earth and cast it at his enemy, running forward as he cast. But he
knew not, so troubled was he in his soul, that he ran or that he cast,
for his knees tottered beneath him and his blood grew cold with fear.
And the stone fell short, nor reached the mark. Even as in a dream,
when dull sleep is on the eyes of a man, he would fain run but cannot,
for his strength faileth him, neither cometh there any voice when he
would speak; so it fared with Turnus. For he looked to the Latins and
to the city, and saw the dreadful spear approach, nor knew how he might
fly, neither how he might fight, and could not spy anywhere his chariot
or his sister. And all the while Æneas shook his spear and waited that
his aim should be sure. And at last he threw it with all his might.
Even as a whirlwind it flew, and brake through the seven folds of the
shield and pierced the thigh. And Turnus dropped with his knee bent to
the ground. And all the Latins groaned aloud to see him fall. Then he
entreated Æneas, saying, “I have deserved my fate. Take thou that which
thou hast won. Yet perchance thou mayest have pity on the old man, my
father, even Daunus, for such an one was thy father Anchises, and give
me back to my own people, if it be but my body that thou givest. Yet
hast thou conquered, and the Latins have seen me beg my life of thee,
and Lavinia is thine. Therefore, I pray thee, stay now thy wrath.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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