Meanwhile, with two white coursers to their car,the brothers Lucagus and Liger droveinto the heart of battle: Liger keptwith skilful hand the manage of the steeds;bold Lucagus swung wide his naked sword.Aeneas, by their wrathful brows defied,brooked not the sight, but to the onset flew,huge-looming, with adverse and threatening spear.Cried Liger, “Not Achilles' chariot, ours!Nor team of Diomed on Phrygia's plain!The last of life and strife shall be thy meedupon this very ground.” Such raving wordflowed loud from Liger's lip: not with a wordthe Trojan hero answered him, but flunghis whirling spear; and even as Lucagusleaned o'er the horses, goading them with steel,and, left foot forward, gathered all his strengthto strike—the spear crashed through the under rimof his resplendent shield and entered deepin the left groin; then from the chariot fallen,the youth rolled dying on the field, while thuspious Aeneas paid him taunting words:“O Lucagus, thy chariot did not yieldbecause of horses slow to fly, or scaredby shadows of a foe. It was thyselfleaped o'er the wheel and fled.” So saying, he graspedthe horses by the rein. The brother then,spilled also from the car, reached wildly forthhis helpless hands: “O, by thy sacred head,and by the parents who such greatness gave,good Trojan, let me live! Some pity showto prostrate me!” But ere he longer sued,Aeneas cried, “Not so thy language rana moment gone! Die thou! Nor let this daybrother from brother part!” Then where the lifehides in the bosom, he thrust deep his sword.Thus o'er the field of war the Dardan Kingmoved on, death-dealing: like a breaking floodor cloudy whirlwind seemed his wrath. Straightwaythe boy Ascanius from the ramparts came,his warriors with him; for the siege had failed.

Now Jupiter to Juno thus began:“O ever-cherished spouse and sister dear,surely 't is Venus—as thy mind misgave—whose favor props—O, what discernment thine! Yon Trojan power; not swift heroic hands,or souls of fury facing perilous war!”Juno made meek reply: “O noblest spouse!Why vex one sick at heart, who humbly fearsthy stern command? If I could claim to-daywhat once I had, my proper right and due,love's induence, I should not plead in vainto thee, omnipotent, to give me powerto lead off Turnus from the fight unscathed,and save him at his father Daunus' prayer.Aye, let him die! And with his loyal bloodthe Teucrians' vengeance feed! Yet he derivesfrom our Saturnian stem, by fourth removesprung from Pilumnus. Oft his liberal handshave heaped unstinted offering at thy shrine.”Thus in few words th' Olympian King replied:“If for the fated youth thy prayer imploresdelay and respite of impending doom,if but so far thou bidst me interpose,—go—favor Turnus' flight, and keep him safein this imperilled hour; I may concedesuch boon. But if thy pleading words intendsome larger grace, and fain would touch or changethe issue of the war, then art thou fedon expectation vain.” With weeping eyesJuno made answer: “Can it be thy mindgives what thy words refuse, and Turnus' life,if rescued, may endure? Yet afterwardsome cruel close his guiltless day shall see—or far from truth I stray! O, that I werethe dupe of empty fears! and O, that thouwouldst but refashion to some happier endthe things by thee begun—for thou hast power!”

She ceased; and swiftly from the peak of heavenmoved earthward, trailing cloud-wrack through the air,and girdled with the storm. She took her way to where Troy's warriors faced Laurentum's line.There of a hollow cloud the goddess frameda shape of airy, unsubstantial shade,Aeneas' image, wonderful to see,and decked it with a Dardan lance and shield,a crested helmet on the godlike head;and windy words she gave of soulless sound,and motion like a stride—such shapes, they say,the hovering phantoms of the dead put on,or empty dreams which cheat our slumbering eyes.Forth to the front of battle this vain shadestalked insolent, and with its voice and spearchallenged the warrior. At it Turnus flew,and hurled a hissing spear with distant aim;the thing wheeled round and fled. The foe forthwith,thinking Aeneas vanquished, with blind scornflattered his own false hope: “Where wilt thou fly,Aeneas? Wilt thou break a bridegroom's word?This sword will give thee title to some landthou hast sailed far to find!” So clamoring loudhe followed, flashing far his naked sword;nor saw the light winds waft his dream away.

By chance in covert of a lofty craga ship stood fastened and at rest; her sidesshowed ready bridge and stairway; she had broughtOsinius, king of Clusium. Thither cameAeneas' counterfeit of flight and fear,and dropped to darkness. Turnus, nothing loth,gave close chase, overleaping every bar,and scaling the high bridge; but scarce he reachedthe vessel's prow, when Juno cut her loose,the cables breaking, and along swift wavespushed her to sea. Yet in that very hourAeneas to the battle vainly calledthe vanished foe, and round his hard-fought pathstretched many a hero dead. No longer nowthe mocking shadow sought to hide, but soaredvisibly upward and was Iost in cloud,while Turnus drifted o'er the waters widebefore the wind. Bewildered and amazedhe looked around him; little joy had hein his own safety, but upraised his handsin prayer to Heaven: “O Sire omnipotent!Didst thou condemn me to a shame like this?Such retribution dire? Whither now?Whence came I here? What panic wafts awaythis Turnus—if 't is he? Shall I beholdLaurentum's towers once more? But what of thosemy heroes yonder, who took oath to me,and whom—O sin and shame!—I have betrayedto horrible destruction? Even nowI see them routed, and my ears receivetheir dying groans. What is this thing I do?Where will the yawning earth crack wide enoughbeneath my feet? Ye tempests, pity me!On rocks and reef—'t is Turnus' faithful prayer,let this bark founder; fling it on the shoalsof wreckful isles, where no Rutulian eyecan follow me, or Rumor tell my shame.”With such wild words his soul tossed to and fro,not knowing if to hide his infamywith his own sword and madly drive its bladehome to his heart, or cast him in the sea,and, swimming to the rounded shore, renewhis battle with the Trojan foe. Three timeseach fatal course he tried; but Juno's powerthree times restrained, and with a pitying handthe warrior's purpose barred. So on he spedo'er yielding waters and propitious tides,far as his father Daunus' ancient town.

At Jove's command Mezentius, breathing rage,now takes the field and leads a strong assaultagainst victorious Troy. The Tuscan ranksmeet round him, and press hard on him alone,on him alone with vengeance multipliedtheir host of swords they draw. As some tall cliff,projecting to the sea, receives the rageof winds and waters, and untrembling bearsvast, frowning enmity of seas and skies,—so he. First Dolichaon's son he slew,Hebrus; then Latagus and Palmus, thoughthey fled amain; he smote with mighty stonetorn from the mountain, full upon the faceof Latagus; and Palmus he let liehamstrung and rolling helpless; he bestowedthe arms on his son Lausus for a prize,another proud crest in his helm to wear;he laid the Phrygian Euanthus Iow;and Mimas, Paris' comrade, just his age,—born of Theano's womb to Amycushis sire, that night when royal Hecuba,teeming with firebrand, gave Paris birth:one in the city of his fathers sleeps;and one, inglorious, on Laurentian strand.As when a wild boar, harried from the hillsby teeth of dogs (one who for many a yearwas safe in pine-clad Vesulus, or roamedthe meres of Tiber, feeding in the reeds)falls in the toils at last, and stands at bay,raging and bristling, and no hunter daresdefy him or come near, but darts are hurledfrom far away, with cries unperilous:not otherwise, though righteous is their wrathagainst Mezentius, not a man so boldas face him with drawn sword, but at long rangethey throw their shafts and with loud cries assail;he, all unterrified, makes frequent stand,gnashing his teeth, and shaking off their spears.