Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/441

Now, heaping fuel on the flame,
With new resource the crafty dame
Displays in heaven a sign:
No evidence more strongly wrought
On Italy's deluded thought,
As 'twere indeed divine.
Jove's royal bird in pride of place
Was putting river-fowl in chase
And all the feathery crew,
When swooping from the ruddy sky
Off from the flood he bears on high
A swan of dazzling hue.
The Italians gaze, when lo! the rout
Turn from their flight and face about,
In blackening mass obscure the skies,
And clustering close with shrill sharp cries
Their mighty foe pursue,
Till he, by force and weight o'erbome,
Dropped river-ward his prey untorn
And off to distance flew.
With loud acclaim the Rutule bands
Salute the portent of the skies:
Aloft they raise their eager hands,
And first the seer Tolumnius cries:
'For this, for this my prayers have striven
I hail, I seize the omen given;
Draw, draw with me the sword,
Poor Rutules, whom the pirate base
Puts like unwarlike birds in chase,
And spoils your river-board.
Yes, he will fly, if you pursue,
And vanish in the distant blue.
Close firm your ranks, and bring relief
And rescue to your ravished chief,
All, all with one accord.'
He said, and hurled, as forth he ran,
His javelin at the foeman's van.