Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/433

For know, whate'er the chance ensue
To Turnus, threats Amata too:
With you I leave this hated life,
Nor see my child my captor's wife.'
Her mother's voice Lavinia hears,
And mingles blushes with her tears;
Deep crimson glows the sudden flame,
And dyes her tingling cheek with shame.
So blushes ivory's Indian grain
When sullied with vermilion stain:
So lilies set in roseate bed
Enkindle with contagious red.
So flushed the maid: with wildering gaze
The passion-blinded youth surveys:
The fiercer for the fight he burns,
And to the queen in brief returns:
'O let not tears nor omen ill
Attend me to the stubborn fray!
Dear mother, 'tis not Turnus' will
The hour of destiny can stay.
Go, Idmon, to yon Phrygian chief
Bear tidings he will hear with grief:
When first the morrow fires the air
With glowing chariot, let him spare
To lead his Teucrians on:
Let Rutule arms and Teucrian rest;
His life and mine shall brook the test;
Lavinia's hand, our common quest,
Shall in that field be won.'

So saying, to the stall he speeds,
Bids harness his impetuous steeds,
And pleased their fury sees,
Which Orithyia long ago
On king Pilumnus deigned bestow,
To match the whiteness of the snow,
The swiftness of the breeze.