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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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Pity your parent's age, and ease his care." Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain: The proffer'd med'cine but provok'd the pain. The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief, With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief: "The care, O best of fathers, which you take For my concerns, at my desire forsake. Permit me not to languish out my days, But make the best exchange of life for praise. This arm, this lance, can well dispute the prize; And the blood follows, where the weapon flies. His goddess mother is not near, to shroud The flying coward with an empty cloud." But now the queen, who fear'd for Turnus' life, And loath'd the hard conditions of the strife, Held him by force; and, dying in his death, In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath: "O Turnus, I adjure thee by these tears, And whate'er price Amata's honor bears Within thy breast, since thou art all my hope, My sickly mind's repose, my sinking age's prop; Since on the safety of thy life alone Depends Latinus, and the Latian throne: Refuse me not this one, this only pray'r, To waive the combat, and pursue the war. Whatever chance attends this fatal strife, Think it includes, in thine, Amata's life. I cannot live a slave, or see my throne Usurp'd by strangers or a Trojan son." At this, a flood of tears Lavinia shed; A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread, Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red. The driving colors, never at a stay, Run here and there, and flush, and fade away. Delightful change! Thus Indian iv'ry shows, Which with the bord'ring paint of purple glows; Or lilies damask'd by the neighb'ring rose. The lover gaz'd, and, burning with desire, The more he look'd, the more he fed the fire: Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spite, Roll in his breast, and rouse him to the fight. |
