To Turnus, who upon a distant field was storming with huge havoc, came the news that now his foe, before a gate thrown wide, was red with slaughter. His own fight he stays, and speeds him, by enormous rage thrust on, to those proud brethren at the Dardan wall. There first Antiphates, who made his war far in the van (a Theban captive's child to great Sarpedon out of wedlock born), he felled to earth with whirling javelin: th' Italic shaft of cornel lightly flew along the yielding air, and through his throat pierced deep into the breast; a gaping wound gushed blood; the hot shaft to his bosom clung. Then Erymas and Merops his strong hand laid low: Aphidnus next, then came the turn of Bitias, fiery-hearted, furious-eyed: but not by javelin,—such cannot fall by flying javelin,—the ponderous beam of a phalaric spear, with mighty roar, like thunderbolt upon him fell; such shock neither the bull's-hides of his double shield nor twofold corselet's golden scales could stay but all his towering frame in ruin fell. Earth groaned, and o'er him rang his ample shield. so crashes down from Baiae 's storied shore a rock-built mole, whose mighty masonry, piled up with care, men cast into the sea; it trails its wreckage far, and fathoms down lies broken in the shallows, while the waves whirl every way, and showers of black sand are scattered on the air: with thunder-sound steep Prochyta is shaken, and that bed of cruel stone, Inarime , which lies heaped o'er Typhoeus by revenge of Jove. Now to the Latins Mars, the lord of war, gave might and valor, and to their wild hearts his spur applied, but on the Teucrians breathed dark fear and flight. From every quarter came auxiliar hosts, where'er the conflict called, and in each bosom pulsed the god of war. When Pandarus now saw his brother's corse low Iying, and which way the chance and tide of battle ran, he violently moved the swinging hinges of the gate, and strained with both his shoulders broad. He shut outside not few of his own people, left exposed in fiercest fight but others with himself he barred inside and saved them as they fled; nor noted, madman, how the Rutule King had burst in midmost of the line, and now stood prisoned in their wall, as if he were some monstrous tiger among helpless kine. His eyeballs strangely glared; his armor rang terrific, his tall crest shook o'er his brows blood-red, and lightnings glittered from his shield familiar loomed that countenance abhorred and frame gigantic on the shrinking eyes of the Aeneadae. Then Pandarus sprang towering forth, all fever to revenge his brother's slaughter. “Not this way,” he cried “Amata's marriage-gift! No Ardea here mews Turnus in his fathers' halls. Behold thy foeman's castle! Thou art not allowed to take thy leave.” But Turnus looked his way, and smiled with heart unmoved. “Begin! if thou hast manhood in thee, and meet steel with steel! Go tell dead Priam thou discoverest here Achilles!” For reply, the champion tall hurled with his might and main along the air his spear of knotted wood and bark untrimmed. But all it wounded was the passing wind, for Saturn's daughter turned its course awry, and deep in the great gate the spear-point drove. “Now from the stroke this right arm means for thee thou shalt not fly. Not such the sender of this weapon and this wound.” He said, and towered aloft to his full height; the lifted sword clove temples, brows, and beardless cheeks clean through with loudly ringing blow; the ground beneath shook with the giant's ponderous fall, and, lo, with nerveless limbs, and brains spilt o'er his shield, dead on the earth he lay! in equal halves the sundered head from either shoulder swung. In horror and amaze the Trojans all dispersed and fled; had but the conqueror thought to break the barriers of the gates and call his followers through, that fatal day had seen an ending of the Teucrians and their war. But frenzied joy of slaughter urged him on, infuriate, to smite the scattering foe. First Phaleris he caught; then cut the knees of Gyges; both their spears he snatched away and hurled them at the rout; 't was Juno roused his utmost might of rage. Now Halys fell, and Phegeus, whom he pierced right through the shield: next, at the walls and urging reckless war, Alcander, Halius, and Noemon gave their lives, and Prytanis went down. In vain Lynceus made stand and called his comrades brave: for Turnus from the right with waving sword caught at him and lopped off with one swift blow the head, which with its helmet rolled away. Next Amycus, destroyer of wild beasts, who knew full well to smear a crafty barb with venomed oil; young Clytius he slew, son of the wind-god; then on Cretheus fell, a follower of the muses and their friend: Cretheus, whose every joy it was to sing, and fit his numbers to the chorded Iyre; steeds, wars, armed men were his perpetual song. At last the Teucrian chiefs had heard the tale of so much slaughter; and in council met are Mnestheus and Serestus bold, who see their comrades routed and the conquering foe within the gates. Cries Mnestheus, “Whither fly? What open way is yonder or what wall? Beyond these ramparts lost what stronger lie? Shall one lone man here in your walls confined, make havoc unavenged and feed the grave with your best warriors? 0 cowards vile! For your sad country and her ancient gods and for renowned Aeneas, can ye feel no pity and no shame?” Enflamed to fight by words like these, they close the line, and stand in strong array. So Turnus for a space out of the battle step by step withdrew to make the river-bank his rearguard strong; whereat the Teucrians, shouting loud, swept on the fiercer, and in solid mass pressed round. as when a troop of hunters with keen spears encircle a wild lion, who in fear, but glaring grim and furious, backward falls, valor and rage constrain him ne'er to cease fronting the foe; yet not for all his ire can he against such serried steel make way: so Turnus backward with a lingering step unwilling drew, and wrath his heart oterflowed. for twice already had he cloven a path into the foe's mid-press, and twice had driven their flying lines in panic through the town. But now the whole throng from the camp he sees massed to the onset. Nor will Juno now dare give him vigor to withstand, for Jove had sent aerial Iris out of heaven with stern commandment to his sister-queen that Turnus from the Teucrian walls retire. Therefore the warrior's shield avails no more, nor his strong arm; but he is overthrown by general assault. Around his brows his smitten helmet rings; the ponderous mail cracks under falling stones; the haughty plumes are scattered from his head, nor can the boss of his stout shield endure; the Trojans hurl redoubled rain of spears; and with them speeds Mnestheus like thunderbolt. The hero's flesh dissolves in sweat; no room to breathe has he; his limbs are spent and weary; his whole frame shakes with his gasping breath: then bounding fort with all his harness on, headlong he plunged into the flowing stream; its yellow tide embraced him as he fell, and gentle waves restored him smiling to his friends in arms, with all the gore and carnage washed away. Meanwhile Olympus , seat of sovereign sway, threw wide its portals, and in conclave fair the Sire of gods and King of all mankind summoned th' immortals to his starry court, whence, high-enthroned, the spreading earth he views— and Teucria's camp and Latium 's fierce array. Beneath the double-gated dome the gods were sitting; Jove himself the silence broke: “O people of Olympus , wherefore change your purpose and decree, with partial minds in mighty strife contending? I refused such clash of war 'twixt Italy and Troy . Whence this forbidden feud? What fears seduced to battles and injurious arms either this folk or that? Th' appointed hour for war shall be hereafter—speed it not!— When cruel Carthage to the towers of Rome 
 shall bring vast ruin, streaming fiercely down the opened Alp. Then hate with hate shall vie, and havoc have no bound. Till then, give o'er, and smile upon the concord I decree!”