‘Latona's daughter, whose benignant grace protects this grove, behold, her father now gives thee this babe for handmaid! Lo, thy spear her infant fingers hold, as from her foes she flies a suppliant to thee! Receive, O goddess, I implore, what now I cast upon the perilous air.’—He spoke, and hurled with lifted arm the whirling shaft. The waves roared loud, as on the whistling javelin hapless Camilla crossed th' impetuous flood. But Metabus, his foes in hot pursuit, dared plunge him in mid-stream, and, triumphing, soon plucked from grass-grown river-bank the spear, the child upon it,—now to Trivia vowed, a virgin offering. Him nevermore could cities hold, nor would his wild heart yield its sylvan freedom, but his days were passed with shepherds on the solitary hills. His daughter too in tangled woods he bred: a brood-mare from the milk of her fierce breast suckled the child, and to its tender lips .Her udders moved; and when the infant feet their first firm steps had taken, the small palms were armed with a keen javelin; her sire a bow and quiver from her shoulder slung. Instead of golden combs and flowing pall, she wore, from her girl-forehead backward thrown, the whole skin of a tigress; with soft hands she made her plaything of a whirling spear, or, swinging round her head the polished thong of her good sling, she fetched from distant sky Strymonian cranes or swans of spotless wing. From Tuscan towns proud matrons oft in vain sought her in marriage for their sons; but she to Dian only turned her stainless heart, her virgin freedom and her huntress' arms with faithful passion serving. Would that now this Iove of war had ne'er seduced her mind the Teucrians to provoke! So might she be one of our wood-nymphs still. But haste, I pray, for bitter is her now impending doom. Descend, dear nymph, from heaven, and explore the country of the Latins, where the fight with unpropitious omens now begins. These weapons take, and from this quiver draw a vengeful arrow, wherewith he who dares to wound her sacred body, though he be a Trojan or Italian, shall receive bloody and swift reward at my command. Then, in a cloud concealed, I will consign her corpse, ill-fated but inviolate unto the sepulchre, restoring so the virgin to her native land.” Thus spake the goddess; but her handmaid, gliding down, took her loud pathway on the moving winds, and mantled in dark storm her shape divine. Meanwhile the Teucrian legions to the wall draw near, with Tuscan lords and cavalry in numbered troops arrayed. Loud-footed steeds prance o'er the field, to manage of the rein rebellious, but turned deftly here or there. The iron harvest of keen spears spreads far, and all the plain burns bright with lifted steel. Messapus and swift Latin cavalry, Coras his brother, and th' attending train of the fair maid Camilla, form their lines in the opposing field. Their poised right hands point the long lances forward, and light shafts are brandished in the air; the warrior hosts on steeds of fire come kindling as they ride. One instant, at a spear-throw's space, each line its motion stays; then with one sudden cry they rush forth, spurring on each frenzied steed. From-every side the multitudinous spears pour down like snowflakes, mantling heaven in shade. Now with contending spears and straining thews, Tyrrhenus, and Aconteus, champion bold, ride forward; with the onset terrible loudly their armor rings; their chargers twain crash breast to breast, and like a thunderbolt Aconteus drops, or like a ponderous stone hurled from a catapult; full length he falls, surrend'ring to the winds his fleeting soul. Now all is panic: holding their light shields behind their backs, the Latin horse wheel round, retreating to the wall, the Trojan foe in close pursuit. Asilas, chieftain proud, led on th' assault. Hard by the city gates the Latins wheeled once more and pressed the rein strong on the yielding neck; the charging foe took flight and hurried far with loose-flung rein. 'T was like the shock and onset of the sea that landward hurls the alternating flood and hides high cliffs in foam,—the tawny sands upflinging as it rolls; then, suddenly whirled backward on the reingulfing waves, it quits the ledges, and with ebbing flow far from the shore retires. The Tuscans twice drive back the flying Rutules to the town; and twice repulsed, with shields to rearward thrown, glare back at the pursuer; but conjoined in the third battle-charge, both armies merge confusedly together in grim fight of man to man; then follow dying groans, armor blood-bathed and corpses, and strong steeds inextricably with their masters slain, so fierce the fray. Orsilochus—afraid to front the warrior's arms—launched forth a spear at Remulus' horse, and left the fatal steel clinging below its ear; the charger plunged madly, and tossed its trembling hoofs in air, sustaining not the wound; the rider fell, flung headlong to the ground. Catillus slew Iollas; and then struck Herminius down, great-bodied and great-hearted, who could wield a monster weapon, and whose yellow hair from naked head to naked shoulder flowed. By wounds unterrified he dared oppose his huge bulk to the foe: the quivering spear pierced to his broad back, and with throes of pain bowed the man double and clean clove him through. Wide o'er the field th' ensanguined horror flowed, where fatal swords were crossed and cut their way through many a wound to famous death and fair. Swift through the midmost slaughter proudly strides the quiver-girt Camilla, with one breast thrust naked to the fight, like Amazon. Oft from her hand her pliant shafts she rains, or whirls with indefatigable arm a doughty battle-axe; her shoulder bears Diana's sounding arms and golden bow. Sometimes retreating and to flight compelled, the maiden with a rearward-pointing bow shoots arrows as she flies. Around her move her chosen peers, Larina, virgin brave, Tarpeia, brandishing an axe of bronze, and Tulla, virgins out of Italy 
 whom the divine Camilla chose to be her glory, each a faithful servitress in days of peace or war. The maids of Thrace 
 ride thus along Thermodon's frozen flood, and fight with blazoned Amazonian arms around Hippolyta; or when returns Penthesilea in triumphal car 'mid acclamations shrill, and all her host of women clash in air the moon-shaped shield. What warrior first, whom last, did thy strong spear, fierce virgin, earthward fling? Or what thy tale of prostrate foes laid gasping on the ground? Eunaeus first, the child of Clytius' Ioins, whose bared breast, as he faced his foe, she pierced with fir-tree javelin; from his lips outpoured the blood-stream as he fell; and as he bit the gory dust, he clutched his mortal wound. Then Liris, and upon him Pagasus she slew: the one clung closer to the reins of his stabbed horse, and rolled off on the ground; the other, flying to his fallen friend, reached out a helpless hand; so both of these fell on swift death together. Next in line she smote Amastrus, son of Hippotas; then, swift-pursuing, pierced with far-flung spear Tereus, Harpalycus, Demophoon, and Chromis; every shaft the virgin threw laid low its Phrygian warrior. From afar rode Ornytus on his Apulian steed, bearing a hunter's uncouth arms; for cloak he wore upon his shoulders broad a hide from some wild bull stripped off; his helmet was a wolf's great, gaping mouth, with either jaw full of white teeth; the weapon in his hand, a farmer's pole. He strode into the throng, head taller than them all. But him she seized and clove him through (his panic-stricken troop gave her advantage), and with wrathful heart she taunted thus the fallen: “Didst thou deem this was a merry hunting in the wood in chase of game? Behold, thy fatal day befalls thee at a woman's hand, and thus thy boasting answers. No small glory thou unto the ghosts of thy dead sires wilt tell, that 't was Camilla's javelin struck thee down.”