First Massicus his brazen Tigress rode,cleaving the brine; a thousand warriorswere with him out of Clusium's walls, or fromthe citadel of Coste, who for armshad arrows, quivers from the shoulder slung,and deadly bows. Grim Abas near him sailed;his whole band wore well-blazoned mail; his shipdisplayed the form of Phoebus, all of gold:to him had Populonia consigned(His mother-city, she) six hundred youthwell-proven in war; three hundred Elba gave,an island rich in unexhausted oresof iron, like the Chalybes. Next cameAsilas, who betwixt the gods and meninterprets messages and reads clear signsin victims' entrails, or the stars of heaven,or bird-talk, or the monitory flamesof lightning: he commands a thousand menclose 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 minduniting all: in Caere they were bredand Minio's plain, and by the ancient towersof Pyrgo or Gravisca's storm-swept hill.

Nor thy renown may I forget, brave chiefof the Ligurians, Cinyrus; nor thine,Cupavo, with few followers, thy crestthe tall swan-wings, of love unblest the signand of a father fair: for legends tellthat Cycnus, for his Phaethon so dearlamenting loud beneath the poplar shadeof the changed sisters, made a mournful songto soothe his grief and passion: but erewhile,in his old age, there clothed him as he sangsoft snow-white plumes, and spurning earth he soaredon high, and sped in music through the stars.His son with bands of youthful peers urged ona galley with a Centaur for its prow,which loomed high o'er the waves, and seemed to hurla huge stone at the water, as the keelploughed through the deep. Next Ocnus summoned fortha war-host from his native shores, the sonof Tiber, Tuscan river, and the nymphManto, 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 enthronedshe rules her tribes: her strength is Tuscan born.Hate of Mezentius armed against his namefive hundred men: upon their hostile prowwas 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 floodlike flowing marble foams; his Triton prowthreatens the blue waves with a trumpet-shell;far as the hairy flanks its form is man,but ends in fish below—the parting wavesbeneath the half-brute bosom break in foam.Such chosen chiefs in thirty galleys ploughedthe salt-wave, bringing help to Trojan arms.

Day now had left the sky. The moon benignhad driven her night-wandering chariotto 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 transformedby kind Cybebe to sea-ruling powers.In even ranks they swam the cloven wave,—nymphs now, but once as brazen galleys mooredalong the sandy shore. With joy they knewtheir King from far, and with attending trainaround him drew. Cymodocea then,best skilled in mortal speech, sped close behind,with her right hand upon the stern, uprosebreast-high, and with her left hand deeply pliedthe silent stream, as to the wondering Kingshe 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 topof Ida's mountain. Sea-nymphs now are we,and thine own fleet. When, as we fled, the flamesrained o'er us from the false Rutulian's hand't was all unwillingly we cast awaythy serviceable chains: and now once morewe follow thee across the sea. These formsour pitying mother bade us take, with powerto haunt immortally the moving sea.Lo, thy Ascanius lies close besiegedin moated walls, assailed by threatening armsand 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 barand hold them from the camp. Arouse thee, then,and with the rising beams of dawn call forththy captains and their followers. Take that shieldvictorious, which for thee the Lord of Fireforged 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 sternwith skilful thrust, and vanished. The ship spedswift as a spear, or as an arrow fliesno whit behind the wind: and all the fleetquickened its course. Anchises' princely son,dumb and bewildered stood, but took good heartat such an omen fair. Then in few wordswith 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 fulfilthine augury divine. In Phrygia's causebe present evermore with favoring power!”He spoke no more. For now the wheels of dayhad 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 armsthe coming fray. Now holds he full in viewhis Trojans and their fortress, as he standsupon his towering ship. With his left handhe lifts his radiant shield; then from the wallthe Dardan warriors send a battle-crythat echoes to the stars, as kindling hopetheir rage renews. A flight of spears they hurl:'t was like the cranes of Strymon, through dark cloudseach other calling, when they cleave the skiesvociferous, outwinging as they flythe swift south winds—Ioud music them pursues.Amazement on Ausonia's captains felland Turnus, as they gazed. But soon they sawships pointing shoreward and the watery plainall stirring with a fleet. Aeneas' helmuplifted its bright peak,—like streaming flamethe crimson crest; his shield of orbed goldpoured forth prodigious fire: it seemed as whenin cloudless night a comet's blood-red beammakes mournful splendor, or the Dog-star glows,which rises to bring drought and pestilenceto hapless men, and with ill-omened raysaddens the sky. But Turnus, undismayed,trusted not less to hurl th' invaders backand hold the shore against them. “Look!” he cried,your prayer is come to pass,—that sword in handye now may shatter them. The might of Marsis in a true man's blow. Remember welleach man his home and wife! Now call to mindthe glory and great deeds of all your sires!Charge to yon river-bank, while yet they takewith 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 shipslets down his troop by bridges. Some awaitthe ebbing of slack seas, and boldly leapinto the shallows; others ply the oar.Tarchon a beach discovers, where the sandssing 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 cleaveyon hostile shore; and let her keel's full weightthe furrow drive. I care not if we breakour ship's side in so sure an anchorage,if once we land.” While Tarchon urged them thus,the crews bent all together to their bladesand sped their foaming barks to Latium's plain,till each beak gripped the sand and every keellay 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 tideher warriors; and now the drifting wreckof shattered oars and thwarts entangles them,or ebb of swirling waters sucks them down.

Turnus no lingering knows, but fiercely hurlshis whole line on the Teucrians, and makes standalong the shore. Now peals the trumpet's call.Aeneas in the van led on his troopagainst the rustic foe, bright auguryfor opening war, and laid the Latins low,slaughtering Theron, a huge chief who daredoffer Aeneas battle; through the scalesof brazen mail and corselet stiff with goldthe sword drove deep, and gored the gaping side.Then smote he Lichas, from his mother's wombripped in her dying hour, and unto thee,O Phoebus, vowed, because his infant daysescaped the fatal steel. Hard by him fellstout Cisseus and gigantic Gyas; theseto death were hurled, while with their knotted clubsthey slew opposing hosts; but naught availedHerculean weapons, nor their mighty hands,or that Melampus was their sire, a peerof Hercules, what time in heavy toilsthrough earth he roved. See next how Pharon boasts!But while he vainly raves, the whirling spearsmites full on his loud mouth. And also thou,Cydon, wast by the Trojan stroke o'erthrown,while following in ill-omened haste the stepsof Clytius, thy last joy, whose round cheek woreits youthful golden down: soon hadst thou lainin death, unheeding of thy fancies fondwhich ever turned to youth;—but now arosethe troop of all thy brothers, Phorcus' sons,a close array of seven, and seven spearsthey hurled: some from Aeneas' helm or shieldglanced 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 flyagainst yon Rutules, even as they piercedthe breasts of Greeks upon the Ilian plain.”Then one great shaft he seized and threw; it spedstraight into Maeon's brazen shield, and clovehis mail-clad heart. Impetuous to his aidbrother Alcanor came, and lifted upwith strong right hand his brother as he fell:but through his arm a second skilful shaftmade bloody way, and by the sinews heldthe lifeless right hand from the shoulder swung.Then from his brother's body Numitorthe weapon plucked and hurled it, furious,upon Aeneas; but it could not strikethe hero's self, and grazed along the thighof great Achates. Next into the fightClausus of Cures came, in youthful bloomexulting, and with far-thrown javelinstruck Dryops at the chin, and took awayfrom the gashed, shrieking throat both life and voice;the warrior's fallen forehead smote the dust;his lips poured forth thick blood. There also fellthree Thracians, odspring of the lordly stemof Boreas, and three of Idas' sonsfrom 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 sideseach charges on the foe. Ausonia's strandis one wide strife. As when o'er leagues of airthe envious winds give battle to their peers,well-matched in rage and power; and neither theynor clouds above, nor plunging seas belowwill end the doubtful war, but each withstandsthe onset of the whole—in such wild waythe line of Trojans on the Latian linehurls itself, limb on limb and man on man.