arma ferunt alii et pergunt defendere muros, inclusas ut cum latebroso in pumice pastor vestigavit apes fumoque implevit amaro; illae intus trepidae rerum per cerea castra 590discurrunt magnisque acuunt stridoribus iras; volvitur ater odor tectis, tum murmure caeco intus saxa sonant, vacuas it fumus ad auras. Accidit haec fessis etiam fortuna Latinis, quae totam luctu concussit funditus urbem. 595regina ut tectis venientem prospicit hostem, incessi muros, ignis ad tecta volare, nusquam acies contra Rutulas, nulla agmina Turni, infelix pugnae iuvenem in certamine credit exstinctum et subito mentem turbata dolore 600se causam clamat crimenque caputque malorum, multaque per maestum demens effata furorem purpureos moritura manu discindit amictus et nodum informis leti trabe nectit ab alta. quam cladem miserae postquam accepere Latinae, 605filia prima manu flavos Lavinia crinis et roseas laniata genas, tum cetera circum turba furit, resonant late plangoribus aedes. hinc totam infelix vulgatur fama per urbem: demittunt mentes, it scissa veste Latinus 610coniugis attonitus fatis urbisque ruina, canitiem immundo perfusam pulvere turpans. multaque se incusat, qui non acceperit ante Dardanium Aenean generumque asciverit ultro. Interea extremo bellator in aequore Turnus
- 587ut cum PR: veluti M
- 596incessi M2 P, Servius: incedi M: incensi R
- 605flavos MPR: floros Probus, according to Servius
bring arms, and hasten to defend the walls. As when some shepherd has tracked bees to their lair in a rocky covert and filled it with stinging smoke; inside, anxious for their safety, they scurry to and fro through the wax fortress, and with loud buzzing whet their rage; the black stench rolls through their dwelling, the rocks within murmur with blind hum, and smoke billows out into the empty air.
This further fate befell the weary Latins, and shook the whole city to its base with grief: when from her palace the queen sees the foe approaching, the walls assailed, flames mounting to the roofs, but nowhere Rutulian ranks or any troops of Turnus to meet them, the unhappy woman thinks that Turnus has been slain in combat and, her mind distraught by sudden anguish, cries out that she is the guilty source and spring of sorrows, and uttering many a wild word in the frenzy of grief, resolved to die she rends her purple robes, and from a lofty beam fastens the noose of a hideous death. As soon as the unhappy Latin women learned this disaster, first her daughter Lavinia, her hand tearing her golden tresses and rosy cheeks, falls into a frenzy, then all the throng around her; the wide halls ring with lamentations. From here the woeful rumour spreads throughout the town. Hearts sink; Latinus goes with rent raiment, dazed at his wife’s doom and his city’s downfall, defiling his hoary hair with showers of unclean dust, oft chiding himself that he did not give a ready welcome to Dardan Aeneas and adopt him as his son.
Meanwhile Turnus, battling on the plain’s far edge, is