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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Full at the temples of the warrior horse. Just where the stroke was aim'd, th' unerring spear Made way, and stood transfix'd thro' either ear. Seiz'd with unwonted pain, surpris'd with fright, The wounded steed curvets, and, rais'd upright, Lights on his feet before; his hoofs behind Spring up in air aloft, and lash the wind. Down comes the rider headlong from his height: His horse came after with unwieldy weight, And, flound'ring forward, pitching on his head, His lord's incumber'd shoulder overlaid. From either host, the mingled shouts and cries Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the skies. Aeneas, hast'ning, wav'd his fatal sword High o'er his head, with this reproachful word: "Now; where are now thy vaunts, the fierce disdain Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty strain?" Struggling, and wildly staring on the skies, With scarce recover'd sight he thus replies: "Why these insulting words, this waste of breath, To souls undaunted, and secure of death? 'T is no dishonor for the brave to die, Nor came I here with hope victory; Nor ask I life, nor fought with that design: As I had us'd my fortune, use thou thine. My dying son contracted no such band; The gift is hateful from his murd'rer's hand. For this, this only favor let me sue, If pity can to conquer'd foes be due: Refuse it not; but let my body have The last retreat of humankind, a grave. Too well I know th' insulting people's hate; Protect me from their vengeance after fate: This refuge for my poor remains provide, And lay my much-lov'd Lausus by my side." He said, and to the sword his throat applied. The crimson stream distain'd his arms around, And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound. BOOK XI Scarce had the rosy Morning rais'd her head Above the waves, and left her wat'ry bed; The pious chief, whom double cares attend |
