1. Vergil, Aeneis, 10.633-10.688 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 10.633. man's little time runs by: but to prolong 10.634. life's glory by great deeds is virtue's power. 10.635. Beneath the lofty walls of fallen Troy 10.636. fell many a son of Heaven. Yea, there was slain 10.637. Sarpedon, my own offspring. Turnus too 10.638. is summoned to his doom, and nears the bounds 10.639. of his appointed span.” So speaking, Jove 10.640. turned from Rutulia's war his eyes away. 10.641. But Pallas hurled his lance with might and main 10.642. and from its hollow scabbard flashed his sword. 10.643. The flying shaft touched where the plated steel 10.644. over the shoulders rose, and worked its way 10.645. through the shield's rim—then falling, glanced aside 10.646. from Turnus' giant body. Turnus then 10.647. poised, without haste, his iron-pointed spear 10.648. and, launching it on Pallas, cried, “Look now 10.649. will not this shaft a good bit deeper drive?” 10.650. He said: and through the mid-boss of the shield 10.651. teel scales and brass with bull's-hide folded round 10.652. the quivering spear-point crashed resistlessly 10.653. and through the corselet's broken barrier 10.654. pierced Pallas' heart. The youth plucked out in vain 10.655. the hot shaft from the wound; his life and blood 10.656. together ebbed away, as sinking prone 10.657. on his rent side he fell; above him rang 10.658. his armor; and from lips with blood defiled 10.659. he breathed his last upon his foeman's ground. 10.660. Over him Turnus stood: “Arcadians all,” 10.661. He cried, “take tidings of this feat of arms 10.662. to King Evander. With a warrior's wage 10.663. his Pallas I restore, and freely grant 10.664. what glory in a hero's tomb may lie 10.665. or comfort in a grave. They dearly pay 10.666. who bid Aeneas welcome at their board.” 10.667. So saying, with his left foot he held down 10.668. the lifeless form, and raised the heavy weight 10.669. of graven belt, which pictured forth that crime 10.670. of youthful company by treason slain 10.671. all on their wedding night, in bridal bowers 10.672. to horrid murder given,—which Clonus, son 10.673. of Eurytus, had wrought in lavish gold; 10.674. this Turnus in his triumph bore away 10.675. exulting in the spoil. O heart of man 10.676. not knowing doom, nor of events to be! 10.677. Nor, being lifted up, to keep thy bounds 10.678. in prosperous days! To Turnus comes the hour 10.679. when he would fain a prince's ransom give 10.680. had Pallas passed unscathed, and will bewail 10.681. cuch spoil of victory. With weeping now 10.682. and lamentations Ioud his comrades lay 10.683. young Pallas on his shield, and thronging close 10.684. carry him homeward with a mournful song: 10.685. alas! the sorrow and the glorious gain 10.686. thy sire shall have in thee. For one brief day 10.687. bore thee to battle and now bears away; |
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