The warrior-maid Juturna, seeing this, distraught with terror, strikes down from his place Metiscus, Turnus' charioteer, who dropped forward among the reins and off the pole. Him leaving on the field, her own hand grasped the loosely waving reins, while she took on Metiscus' shape, his voice, and blazoned arms. As when through some rich master's spacious halls speeds the black swallow on her lightsome wing, exploring the high roof, or harvesting some scanty morsel for her twittering brood, round empty corridors or garden-pools noisily flitting: so Juturna roams among the hostile ranks, and wings her way behind the swift steeds of the whirling car. At divers points she lets the people see her brother's glory, but not yet allows the final tug of war; her pathless flight keeps far away. Aeneas too must take a course circuitous, and follows close his foeman's track; Ioud o'er the scattered lines he shouts his challenge. But whene'er his eyes discern the foe, and fain he would confront the flying-footed steeds, Juturna veers the chariot round and flies. What can he do? Aeneas' wrath storms vainly to and fro, and wavering purposes his heart divide. Against him lightly leaped Messapus forth, bearing two pliant javelins tipped with steel; and, whirling one in air, he aimed it well, with stroke unfailing. Great Aeneas paused in cover of his shield and crouched low down upon his haunches. But the driven spear battered his helmet's peak and plucked away the margin of his plume. Then burst his rage: his cunning foes had forced him; so at last, while steeds and chariot in the distance fly, he plunged him in the fray, and called on Jove the altars of that broken oath to see. Now by the war-god's favor he began grim, never-pitying slaughter, and flung free the bridle of his rage. What voice divine such horror can make known? What song declare the bloodshed manifold, the princes slain, or flying o'er the field from Turnus' blade, or from the Trojan King? Did Jove ordain so vast a shock of arms should interpose 'twixt nations destined to perpetual bond? Aeneas met the Rutule Sucro—thus staying the Trojan charge—and with swift blow struck at him sidewise, where the way of death is quickest, cleaving ribs and rounded side with reeking sword. Turnus met Amycus, unhorsed him, though himself afoot, and slew Diores, his fair brother (one was pierced fronting the spear, the other felled to earth by strike of sword), and both their severed heads he hung all dripping to his chariot's rim. But Talon, Tanais, and Cethegus brave, three in one onset, unto death went down at great Aeneas' hand; and he dispatched ill-starred Onites of Echion's line, fair Peridia's child. Then Turnus slew two Lycian brothers unto Phoebus dear, and young Menoetes, an Arcadian, who hated war (though vainly) when he plied his native fisher-craft in Lerna 's streams, where from his mean abode he ne'er went forth to wait at great men's doors, but with his sire reaped the scant harvest of a rented glebe. as from two sides two conflagrations sweep dry woodlands or full copse of crackling bay, or as, swift-leaping from the mountain-vales, two flooded, foaming rivers seaward roar, each on its path of death, not less uproused, speed Turnus and Aeneas o'er the field; now storms their martial rage; now fiercely swells either indomitable heart; and now each hero's full strength to the slaughter moves.