At Jove's command Mezentius, breathing rage,
now takes the field and leads a strong assault
against victorious Troy. The Tuscan ranks
meet round him, and press hard on him alone,
on him alone with vengeance multiplied
their host of swords they draw. As some tall cliff,
projecting to the sea, receives the rage
of winds and waters, and untrembling bears
vast, frowning enmity of seas and skies,—
so he. First Dolichaon's son he slew,
Hebrus; then Latagus and Palmus, though
they fled amain; he smote with mighty stone
torn from the mountain, full upon the face
of Latagus; and Palmus he let lie
hamstrung and rolling helpless; he bestowed
the arms on his son Lausus for a prize,
another proud crest in his helm to wear;
he laid the Phrygian Euanthus Iow;
and Mimas, Paris' comrade, just his age,—
born of Theano's womb to Amycus
his sire, that night when royal Hecuba,
teeming with firebrand, gave Paris birth:
one in the city of his fathers sleeps;
and one, inglorious, on Laurentian strand.
As when a wild boar, harried from the hills
by teeth of dogs (one who for many a year
was safe in pine-clad Vesulus, or roamed
the meres of Tiber, feeding in the reeds)
falls in the toils at last, and stands at bay,
raging and bristling, and no hunter dares
defy him or come near, but darts are hurled
from far away, with cries unperilous:
not otherwise, though righteous is their wrath
against Mezentius, not a man so bold
as face him with drawn sword, but at long range
they throw their shafts and with loud cries assail;
he, all unterrified, makes frequent stand,
gnashing his teeth, and shaking off their spears.
From ancient Corythus had Acron come,
a Greek, who left half-sung his wedding-song,
and was an exile; him Mezentius saw
among long lines of foes, with flaunting plumes
and purple garments from his plighted spouse.
Then as a starving lion when he prowls
about high pasture-lands, urged on his way
by maddening hunger (if perchance he see
a flying she-goat or tall-antlered stag)
lifts up his shaggy mane, and gaping wide
his monstrous jaws, springs at the creature's side,
feeding foul-lipped, insatiable of gore:
so through his gathered foes Mezentius
flew at his prey. He stretched along the ground
ill-fated Acron, who breathed life away,
beating the dark dust with his heels, and bathed
his broken weapons in his blood.
Nor deigned
Mezentius to strike Orodes down
as he took flight, nor deal a wound unseen
with far-thrown spear; but ran before his face,
fronting him man to man, nor would he win
by sleight or trick, but by a mightier sword.
Soon on the fallen foe he set his heel,
and, pushing hard, with heel and spear, cried out:
“Look ye, my men, where huge Orodes lies,
himself a dangerous portion of this war!”
With loyal, loud acclaim his peers reply;
but thus the dying hero: “Victor mine,
whoe'er thou art, I fall not unavenged!
Thou shalt but triumph for a fleeting hour.
Like doom for thee is written. Speedily
thou shalt this dust inhabit, even as I!”
Mezentius answered him with wrathful smile:
“Now die! What comes on me concerns alone
the Sire of gods and Sovereign of mankind.”
So saying, from the wounded breast he plucked
his javelin: and on those eyes there fell
inexorable rest and iron slumber,
and in unending night their vision closed.
Then Caedicus cut down Alcathous,
Sacrator slew Hydaspes, Rapo smote
Parthenius and Orses stout and strong;
Messapus, good blade cut down Clonius
and Ericetes, fierce Lycaon's child;
the one from an unbridled war-horse thrown,
the other slain dismounted. Then rode forth
Agis the Lycian, but bold Valerus,
true to his valiant breeding, hurled him down;
having slain Thronius, Salius was slain
by skilled Nealces, of illustrious name
for spear well cast and far-surprising bow.
Thus Mars relentless holds in equal scale
slaughters reciprocal and mutual woe;
the victors and the vanquished kill or fall
in equal measure; neither knows the way
to yield or fly. Th' Olympians Iook down
out of Jove's house, and pity as they see
the unavailing wrath of either foe,
and burdens measureless on mortals laid.
Lo! Venus here, Saturnian Juno yon,
in anxious watch; while pale Tisiphone
moves on infuriate through the battling lines.
On strode Mezentius o'er the gory plain,
and swollen with rage waved wide-his awful spear.
Like tall Orion when on foot he goes
trough the deep sea and lifts his shoulders high
above the waves; or when he takes his path
along the mountain-tops, and has for staff
an aged ash-tree, as he fixes firm
his feet in earth and hides his brows in cloud;—
so Ioomed Mezentius with his ponderous arms.
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