Aeneas thus: then with uplifted eyes Latinus swore, his right hand raised to heaven: “I too, Aeneas, take the sacred vow. By earth and sea and stars in heaven I swear, by fair Latona's radiant children twain, and two-browed Janus; by the shadowy powers of Hades and th' inexorable shrines of the Infernal King; and may Jove hear, who by his lightnings hallows what is sworn! I touch these altars, and my lips invoke the sacred altar-fires that 'twixt us burn: we men of Italy will make this peace inviolate, and its bond forever keep, let come what will; there is no power can change my purpose, not if ocean's waves o'erwhelm the world in billowy deluge and obscure the bounds of heaven and hell. We shall remain immutable as my smooth sceptre is“ (By chance a sceptre in his hand he bore), “which wears no more light leaf or branching shade; for long since in the grove 't was plucked away from parent stem, and yielded to sharp steel its leaves and limbs; erewhile 't was but a tree, till the wise craftsman with fair sheath of bronze encircled it and laid it in the hands of Latium 's royal sires.” With words like these they swore the bond, in the beholding eyes of gathered princes. Then they slit the throats of hallowed victims o'er the altar's blaze, drew forth the quivering vitals, and with flesh on loaded chargers heaped the sacrifice. But to Rutulian eyes th' approaching joust seemed all ill-matched; and shifting hopes and fears disturbed their hearts the closer they surveyed th' unequal risks: still worse it was to see how Turnus, silent and with downcast eyes, dejectedly drew near the place of prayer, worn, pale, and wasted in his youthful bloom. The nymph Juturna, with a sister's fear, noted the growing murmur, and perceived how all the people's will did shift and change; she went from rank to rank, feigning the shape of Camers, scion of illustrious line, with heritage of valor, and himself dauntless in war; unceasingly she ran from rank to rank, spreading with skilful tongue opinions manifold, and thus she spoke: “Will ye not blush, Rutulians, so to stake one life for many heroes? Are we not their match in might and numbers? O, behold those Trojan sons of Heaven making league with exiled Arcady; see Tuscan hordes storming at Turnus. Yet we scarce could find one foe apiece, forsooth, if we should dare fight them with half our warriors. Of a truth your champion brave shall to those gods ascend before whose altars his great heart he vows; and lips of men while yet on earth he stays will spread his glory far. Ourselves, instead, must crouch to haughty masters, and resign this fatherland upon whose fruitful fields we dwell at ease.” So speaking, she inflamed the warriors' minds, and through the legions ran increasing whisper; the Laurentine host and even Latium wavered. Those who late prayed but for rest and safety, clamored loud for arms, desired annulment of the league, and pitied Turnus' miserable doom. Whereon Juturna tried a mightier stroke, a sign from heaven, which more than all beside confused the Latins and deceived their hearts with prodigy. For through the flaming skies Jove's golden eagle swooped, and scattered far a clamorous tribe of river-haunting birds; then, swiftly to the waters falling, seized one noble swan, which with keen, curving claws he ruthless bore away: th' Italians all watched eagerly, while the loud-screaming flock wheeled upward (wondrous sight!), with host of wings shadowed the sky, and in a legion-cloud chased through the air the foe; till, overborne by heavier odds, the eagle from his claws flung back his victim to the waves, and fled to the dim, distant heaven. The Rutules then hailed the good omen with consenting cry, and grasped the sword and shield. Tolumnius the augur spake first: “Lo, the sign I sought with many a prayer! I welcome and obey the powers divine. Take me for captain, me! And draw your swords, ye wretches, whom th' assault of yonder foreign scoundrel puts in fear like feeble birds, and with his violence lays waste your shore. He too shall fly away, spreading his ships' wings on the distant seas. Close up your ranks—one soul in all our breasts! Defend in open war your stolen King.” So saying, he hurled upon th' opposing foe his javelin, running forward. The strong shaft of corner whistled shrill, and clove the air unerring. Instantly vast clamor rose, and all th' onlookers at the spectacle leaped up amazed, and every heart beat high. The spear sped flying to the foeman's line, where stood nine goodly brethren, pledges all of one true Tuscan mother to her lord, Gylippus of Arcadia ; it struck full on one of these at his gold-belted waist, and where the clasp clung, pierced the rib clean through. And stretched the fair youth in his glittering arms full length and lifeless on the yellow sand. His brothers then, bold band to wrath aroused by sorrow, seize the sword or snatch the spear and blindly charge. Opposing them, the host Laurentine makes advance, and close-arrayed the Trojans like a torrent pour, enforced by Tuscans and the gay-accoutred clans of Arcady. One passion moved in all to try the judgment of the sword. They tore the altars down: a very storm of spears rose angrily to heaven, in iron rain down-pouring: while the priests bore far away the sacrificial bowls and sacred fires. Even Latinus fled; his stricken gods far from his violated oath he bore.