Next, Virbius in martial beauty rode, son of Hippolytus, whose mother, proud Aricia , sent him in his flower of fame out of Egeria's hills and cloudy groves where lies Diana's gracious, gifted fane. For legend whispers that Hippolytus, by step-dame's plot undone, his life-blood gave to sate his vengeful father, and was rent in sunder by wild horses; but the grave to air of heaven and prospect of the stars restored him;—for Diana's love and care poured out upon him Paeon's healing balm. But Jove, almighty Sire, brooked not to see a mortal out of death and dark reclimb to light of life, and with a thunderbolt hurled to the Stygian river Phoebus' son, who dared such good elixir to compound. But pitying Trivia hid Hippolytus in her most secret cave, and gave in ward to the wise nymph Egeria in her grove; where he lived on inglorious and alone, ranging the woods of Italy , and bore the name of Virbius. 'T is for this cause the hallowed woods to Trivia's temple vowed forbid loud-footed horses, such as spilled stripling and chariot on the fatal shore, scared by the monsters peering from the sea. Yet did the son o'er that tumultuous plain his battle-chariot guide and plunging team. Lo, Turnus strides conspicuous in the van, full armed, of mighty frame, his lordly head high o'er his peers emerging! His tall helm with flowing triple crest for ensign bears Chimaera, whose terrific lips outpour volcanic fires; where'er the menace moves of her infernal flames and wrathful frown, there wildest flows the purple flood of war. On his smooth shield deep graven in the gold is horned Io—wondrous the device!— a shaggy heifer-shape the maiden shows; Argus is watching her, while Inachus pours forth his river from the pictured urn. A storm of tramping troops, to Turnus sworn, throngs all the widespread plain with serried shields: warriors of Argos , and Auruncan bands, Sicani, Rutuli, Sacranian hosts, Labicum's painted shields; all who till thy woodland vales, O Tiber ! or the shore Numicius hallows; all whose ploughs upturn Rutulia's hills, or that Circaean range where Jove of Anxur guards, and forests green make fair Feronia glad; where lie the fens of Satura , and Ufens' icy wave through lowland valleys seeks his seaward way. Last came Camilla, of the Volscians bred, leading her mail-clad, radiant chivalry; a warrior-virgin, of Minerva's craft of web and distaff, fit for woman's toil, no follower she; but bared her virgin breast to meet the brunt of battle, and her speed left even the winds behind; for she would skim an untouched harvest ere the sickle fell, nor graze the quivering wheat-tops as she ran; or o'er the mid-sea billows' swollen surge so swiftly race, she wet not in the wave her flying feet. For sight of her the youth from field and fortress sped, and matrons grave stood wondering as she passed, well-pleased to see her royal scarf in many a purple fold float off her shining shoulder, her dark hair in golden clasp caught fast, and how she bore for arms a quiver of the Lycian mode, and shepherd's shaft of myrtle tipped with steel. When Turnus from Laurentum's bastion proud published the war, and roused the dreadful note of the harsh trumpet's song; when on swift steeds the lash he laid and clashed his sounding arms; then woke each warrior soul; all Latium stirred with tumult and alarm; and martial rage enkindled youth's hot blood. The chieftains proud, Messapus, Ufens, and that foe of Heaven, Mezentius, compel from far and wide their loyal hosts, and strip the field and farm of husbandmen. To seek auxiliar arms they send to glorious Diomed's domain the herald Venulus, and bid him cry: “ Troy is to Latium come; Aeneas' fleet has come to land. He brings his vanquished gods, and gives himself to be our destined King. Cities not few accept him, and his name through Latium waxes large. But what the foe by such attempt intends, what victory is his presumptuous hope, if Fortune smile, Aetolia 's lord will not less wisely fear than royal Turnus or our Latin King.” Thus Latium 's cause moved on. Meanwhile the heir of great Laomedon, who knew full well the whole wide land astir, was vexed and tossed in troubled seas of care. This way and that his swift thoughts flew, and scanned with like dismay each partial peril or the general storm. Thus the vexed waters at a fountain's brim, smitten by sunshine or the silver sphere of a reflected moon, send forth a beam of flickering light that leaps from wall to wall, or, skyward lifted in ethereal flight, glances along some rich-wrought, vaulted dome. Now night had fallen, and all weary things, all shapes of beast or bird, the wide world o'er, lay deep in slumber. So beneath the arch of a cold sky Aeneas laid him down upon the river-bank, his heart sore tried by so much war and sorrow, and gave o'er his body to its Iong-delayed repose. There, 'twixt the poplars by the gentle stream, the River-Father, genius of that place, old Tiberinus visibly uprose; a cloak of gray-green lawn he wore, his hair o'erhung with wreath of reeds. In soothing words thus, to console Aeneas' cares, he spoke: