First Massicus his brazen Tigress rode, cleaving the brine; a thousand warriors were with him out of Clusium 's walls, or from the citadel of Coste, who for arms had arrows, quivers from the shoulder slung, and deadly bows. Grim Abas near him sailed; his whole band wore well-blazoned mail; his ship displayed the form of Phoebus, all of gold: to him had Populonia consigned (His mother-city, she) six hundred youth well-proven in war; three hundred Elba gave, an island rich in unexhausted ores of iron, like the Chalybes. Next came Asilas, who betwixt the gods and men interprets messages and reads clear signs in victims' entrails, or the stars of heaven, or bird-talk, or the monitory flames of lightning: he commands a thousand men close lined, with bristling spears, of Pisa all, that Tuscan city of Alpheus sprung. Then Astur followed, a bold horseman he, Astur in gorgeous arms, himself most fair: three hundred are his men, one martial mind uniting all: in Caere they were bred and Minio's plain, and by the ancient towers of Pyrgo or Gravisca 's storm-swept hill. Nor thy renown may I forget, brave chief of the Ligurians, Cinyrus; nor thine, Cupavo, with few followers, thy crest the tall swan-wings, of love unblest the sign and of a father fair: for legends tell that Cycnus, for his Phaethon so dear lamenting loud beneath the poplar shade of the changed sisters, made a mournful song to soothe his grief and passion: but erewhile, in his old age, there clothed him as he sang soft snow-white plumes, and spurning earth he soared on high, and sped in music through the stars. His son with bands of youthful peers urged on a galley with a Centaur for its prow, which loomed high o'er the waves, and seemed to hurl a huge stone at the water, as the keel ploughed through the deep. Next Ocnus summoned forth a war-host from his native shores, the son of Tiber , Tuscan river, and the nymph Manto, a prophetess: he gave good walls, O Mantua , and his mother's name, to thee,— to Mantua so rich in noble sires, but of a blood diverse, a triple breed, four stems in each; and over all enthroned she rules her tribes: her strength is Tuscan born. Hate of Mezentius armed against his name five hundred men: upon their hostile prow was Mincius in a cloak of silvery sedge,— Lake Benacus the river's source and sire. Last good Aulestes smites the depths below, with forest of a hundred oars: the flood like flowing marble foams; his Triton prow threatens the blue waves with a trumpet-shell; far as the hairy flanks its form is man, but ends in fish below—the parting waves beneath the half-brute bosom break in foam. Such chosen chiefs in thirty galleys ploughed the salt-wave, bringing help to Trojan arms. Day now had left the sky. The moon benign had driven her night-wandering chariot to the mid-arch of heaven. Aeneas sate, for thought and care allowed him no repose, holding the helm and tending his own sails. but, as he sped, behold, the beauteous train, lately his own, of nymphs, anon transformed by kind Cybebe to sea-ruling powers. In even ranks they swam the cloven wave,— nymphs now, but once as brazen galleys moored along the sandy shore. With joy they knew their King from far, and with attending train around him drew. Cymodocea then, best skilled in mortal speech, sped close behind, with her right hand upon the stern, uprose breast-high, and with her left hand deeply plied the silent stream, as to the wondering King she called: “So late on watch, O son of Heaven, Aeneas? Slack thy sail, but still watch on! We were the pine-trees on the holy top of Ida's mountain. Sea-nymphs now are we, and thine own fleet. When, as we fled, the flames rained o'er us from the false Rutulian's hand 't was all unwillingly we cast away thy serviceable chains: and now once more we follow thee across the sea. These forms our pitying mother bade us take, with power to haunt immortally the moving sea. Lo, thy Ascanius lies close besieged in moated walls, assailed by threatening arms and Latium 's front of war. Arcadia , her horsemen with the bold Etruscan joined, stands at the place appointed. Turnus means, with troop opposing, their advance to bar and hold them from the camp. Arouse thee, then, and with the rising beams of dawn call forth thy captains and their followers. Take that shield victorious, which for thee the Lord of Fire forged for a gift and rimmed about with gold. To-morrow's light—deem not my words be vain!— shall shine on huge heaps of Rutulia's dead.” So saying, she pushed with her right hand the stern with skilful thrust, and vanished. The ship sped swift as a spear, or as an arrow flies no whit behind the wind: and all the fleet quickened its course. Anchises' princely son, dumb and bewildered stood, but took good heart at such an omen fair. Then in few words with eyes upturned to heaven he made his prayer: “Mother of gods, O Ida's Queen benign, who Iovest Dindymus and towns with towers, and lion-yokes obedient to thy rein, be thou my guide in battle, and fulfil thine augury divine. In Phrygia 's cause be present evermore with favoring power!” He spoke no more. For now the wheels of day had sped full circle into perfect light, the dark expelling. Then, for his first care, he bade his captains heed the signal given, equip their souls for war, and wait in arms the coming fray. Now holds he full in view his Trojans and their fortress, as he stands upon his towering ship. With his left hand he lifts his radiant shield; then from the wall the Dardan warriors send a battle-cry that echoes to the stars, as kindling hope their rage renews. A flight of spears they hurl: 't was like the cranes of Strymon, through dark clouds each other calling, when they cleave the skies vociferous, outwinging as they fly the swift south winds—Ioud music them pursues. Amazement on Ausonia's captains fell and Turnus, as they gazed. But soon they saw ships pointing shoreward and the watery plain all stirring with a fleet. Aeneas' helm uplifted its bright peak,—like streaming flame the crimson crest; his shield of orbed gold poured forth prodigious fire: it seemed as when in cloudless night a comet's blood-red beam makes mournful splendor, or the Dog-star glows, which rises to bring drought and pestilence to hapless men, and with ill-omened ray saddens the sky. But Turnus, undismayed, trusted not less to hurl th' invaders back and hold the shore against them. “Look!” he cried, your prayer is come to pass,—that sword in hand ye now may shatter them. The might of Mars is in a true man's blow. Remember well each man his home and wife! Now call to mind the glory and great deeds of all your sires! Charge to yon river-bank, while yet they take with weak and fearful steps their shoreward way! Fortune will help the brave.” With words like these, he chose, well-weighing, who should lead the charge, who at the leaguered walls the fight sustain. Aeneas straightway from his lofty ships lets down his troop by bridges. Some await the ebbing of slack seas, and boldly leap into the shallows; others ply the oar. Tarchon a beach discovers, where the sands sing not, nor waves with broken murmur fall, but full and silent swells the gentle sea. Steering in haste that way, he called his crews: “Now bend to your stout oars, my chosen brave. Lift each ship forward, till her beak shall cleave yon hostile shore; and let her keel's full weight the furrow drive. I care not if we break our ship's side in so sure an anchorage, if once we land.” While Tarchon urged them thus, the crews bent all together to their blades and sped their foaming barks to Latium 's plain, till each beak gripped the sand and every keel lay on dry land unscathed:—all save thine own, O Tarchon! dashed upon a sand-bar, she! Long poised upon the cruel ridge she hung, tilted this way or that and beat the waves, then split, and emptied forth upon the tide her warriors; and now the drifting wreck of shattered oars and thwarts entangles them, or ebb of swirling waters sucks them down. Turnus no lingering knows, but fiercely hurls his whole line on the Teucrians, and makes stand along the shore. Now peals the trumpet's call. Aeneas in the van led on his troop against the rustic foe, bright augury for opening war, and laid the Latins low, slaughtering Theron, a huge chief who dared offer Aeneas battle; through the scales of brazen mail and corselet stiff with gold the sword drove deep, and gored the gaping side. Then smote he Lichas, from his mother's womb ripped in her dying hour, and unto thee, O Phoebus, vowed, because his infant days escaped the fatal steel. Hard by him fell stout Cisseus and gigantic Gyas; these to death were hurled, while with their knotted clubs they slew opposing hosts; but naught availed Herculean weapons, nor their mighty hands, or that Melampus was their sire, a peer of Hercules, what time in heavy toils through earth he roved. See next how Pharon boasts! But while he vainly raves, the whirling spear smites full on his loud mouth. And also thou, Cydon, wast by the Trojan stroke o'erthrown, while following in ill-omened haste the steps of Clytius, thy last joy, whose round cheek wore its youthful golden down: soon hadst thou lain in death, unheeding of thy fancies fond which ever turned to youth;—but now arose the troop of all thy brothers, Phorcus' sons, a close array of seven, and seven spears they hurled: some from Aeneas' helm or shield glanced off in vain; some Venus' kindly power, just as they touched his body, turned away. Aeneas then to true Achates cried: “Bring on my spears: not one shall fruitless fly against yon Rutules, even as they pierced the breasts of Greeks upon the Ilian plain.” Then one great shaft he seized and threw; it sped straight into Maeon's brazen shield, and clove his mail-clad heart. Impetuous to his aid brother Alcanor came, and lifted up with strong right hand his brother as he fell: but through his arm a second skilful shaft made bloody way, and by the sinews held the lifeless right hand from the shoulder swung. Then from his brother's body Numitor the weapon plucked and hurled it, furious, upon Aeneas; but it could not strike the hero's self, and grazed along the thigh of great Achates. Next into the fight Clausus of Cures came, in youthful bloom exulting, and with far-thrown javelin struck Dryops at the chin, and took away from the gashed, shrieking throat both life and voice; the warrior's fallen forehead smote the dust; his lips poured forth thick blood. There also fell three Thracians, odspring of the lordly stem of Boreas, and three of Idas' sons from Ismara, by various doom struck down. Halaesus here his wild Auruncans brings; and flying to the fight comes Neptune's son, Messapus, famous horseman. On both sides each charges on the foe. Ausonia's strand is one wide strife. As when o'er leagues of air the envious winds give battle to their peers, well-matched in rage and power; and neither they nor clouds above, nor plunging seas below will end the doubtful war, but each withstands the onset of the whole—in such wild way the line of Trojans on the Latian line hurls itself, limb on limb and man on man.