Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/266

rank, by their side the two brethren of Sarpedon, Clarus
and Themon both, come from noble Lycia. There is one
carrying with the whole strain of his body a mighty rock,
no small portion of a mountain, Acmon of Lyrnessus, a
worthy peer of his father Clytius and his brother Menestheus. 5
Some repel the foe with javelins, some with stones:
they launch the firebrand, they fit the arrow to the string.
In the midst is he, Venus' most rightful care, the royal boy
of Dardany, his beauteous head uncovered: see him shine
like a jewel islanded in yellow gold, an ornament for neck 10
or head, or as gleams ivory set by artist skill in box-wood or
Orician terebinth[o]: his flowing hair streams over a neck of
milky white and is gathered up by a ring of ductile gold.
Thou, too, Ismarus, wast seen by tribes of warriors dealing
wounds abroad and arming thy arrows with venom, gallant 15
branch of a Lydian house, from the land whose rich
soil is broken up by the husbandmen and washed by
Pactolus' golden stream. Mnestheus, too, was there, whom
yesterday's triumph over Turnus repulsed from the rampart
exalts to the stars, and Capys, who gives his name to 20
Campania's mother city.

So they on this side and on that had waged all day the
conflict of stubborn war; and now at midnight Æneas
was ploughing the main. For soon as, leaving Evander,
he entered the Etruscan camp, accosted the king, and told 25
him of his name and his race, for what he sues and what
he offers, explains what arms Mezentius musters on his
side, and what the excess of Turnus' violence, warns him
how little faith man can place in fortune, and seconds
reasoning by entreaty, without a moment's pause Tarchon 30
combines his forces and strikes a truce; and at once, freed
from the spell of destiny, the Lydian race embarks according
to heaven's ordinance, under the charge of a foreign
leader. First sails the vessel of Æneas, Phrygian lions
harnessed on the prow; above them Ida spreads her shade, 35
of happiest augury to exiled Troy. There sits great Æneas
brooding over the doubtful future of the war: and Pallas,
close cleaving to his left side, keeps questioning him,