Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/287

stanching his wounds with water, and giving ease to his
frame, leaning on a tree's trunk. His brazen helmet is hanging
from a distant bough, and his heavy arms are resting
on the mead. Round him stand his bravest warriors: he,
sick and panting, is relieving his neck, while his flowing 5
beard scatters over his bosom: many a question asks he
about Lausus, many a messenger he sends to call him off
and convey to him the charge of his grieving sire. But
Lausus the while was being carried breathless on his shield
by a train of weeping comrades, a mighty spirit quelled by 10
a mighty wound. The distant groan told its tale to that
ill-boding heart. He defiles his gray hairs with a shower
of dust, stretches his two palms to heaven, and clings to
the body. "My son! and was I enthralled by so strong a
love of life as to suffer you, mine own offspring, to meet the 15
foeman's hand in my stead? Are these your wounds
preserving your sire? is he living through your death?
Alas! now at length I know the misery of banishment!
now the iron is driven home! Aye, it was I, my son, that
stained your name with guilt, driven by the hate I gendered 20
from the throne and realm of my father! Retribution
was due to my country and to my subjects' wrath: would
that I had let out my forfeit life through all the death-wounds
they aimed! And now I live on, nor as yet leave
daylight and humankind—but leave them I will." So 25
saying, he raises himself on his halting thigh, and though
the deep wound makes his strength flag, calls for his war-horse
with no downcast mien. This was ever his glory
and his solace: this still carried him victorious from every
battle-field. He addresses the grieving creature and bespeaks 30
it thus: "Long, Rhæbus, have we twain lived, if
aught be long to those who must die. To-day you shall
either bear in victory the bloody spoils and head of Æneas
yonder, and join with me to avenge my Lausus' sufferings,
or if our force suffice not to clear the way, we will lie down 35
together in death: for never, I ween, my gallant one, will
you stoop to a stranger's bidding and endure a Teucrian
lord." He said, and mounting on its back settled his limbs