Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/470

Else might I end at once my woe,
And with my brother pass below.
Immortal! can the thought be true?
O brother! have I joy save you?
O would the earth but yawn so wide
A goddess in its depth to hide,
And send her to the dead!'
Thus groaning, in her robes of blue
Her head she wrapped, and plunged from view
Down to the river's bed.

Æneas presses on his foe,
Poising his tree-like dart,
And utters ere he deals the blow
The sternness of his heart:
'What now is Turnus' next retreat?
What new escape is planned?
No contest this of feet with feet,
But deadly hand with hand.
Take all disguises man can wear:
Call to your succour whatsoe'er
Or art or courage may:
Find wings to climb the Olympian steep,
Or plunge in subterranean deep,
Hid from the torch of day.'
He shook his head: 'Your swelling phrase
Appals not Turnus: no:
The gods, the gods this terror raise,
And Jupiter my foe.'
He said no more, but, looking round,
A mighty stone espied,
A mighty stone, time-worn and grey,
Which haply on the champaign lay,
Set there erewhile the land to bound
And strifes of law decide: