HKB
pastor, pleas’d with his dire victory, Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the sky: So Pallas’ troops their scatter’d strength unite, And, pouring on their foes, their prince delight.
Halesus came, fierce with desire of blood; But first collected in his arms he stood: Advancing then, he plied the spear so well, Ladon, Demodocus, and Pheres fell. Around his head he toss’d his glitt’ring brand, And from Strymonius hew’d his better hand, Held up to guard his throat; then hurl’d a stone At Thoas’ ample front, and pierc’d the bone: It struck beneath the space of either eye; And blood, and mingled brains, together fly. Deep skill’d in future fates, Halesus’ sire Did with the youth to lonely groves retire: But, when the father’s mortal race was run, Dire destiny laid hold upon the son, And haul’d him to the war, to find, beneath Th’ Evandrian spear, a memorable death. Pallas th’ encounter seeks, but, ere he throws, To Tuscan Tiber thus address’d his vows: “O sacred stream, direct my flying dart, And give to pass the proud Halesus’ heart! His arms and spoils thy holy oak shall bear.” Pleas’d with the bribe, the god receiv’d his pray’r: For, while his shield protects a friend distress’d, The dart came driving on, and pierc’d his breast.
But Lausus, no small portion of the war, Permits not panic fear to reign too far, Caus’d by the death of so renown’d a knight; But by his own example cheers the fight. Fierce Abas first he slew; Abas, the stay Of Trojan hopes, and hindrance of the day. The Phrygian troops escap’d the Greeks in vain: They, and their mix’d allies, now load the plain. To the rude shock of war both armies came; Their leaders equal, and their strength the same. The rear so press’d the front, they could not wield Their angry weapons, to dispute the field. Here Pallas urges on, and Lausus there: Of equal youth and beauty both appear, But both by fate forbid to breathe their native air. Their congress in the field great Jove withstands: Both doom’d to fall, but fall by greater hands.
Meantime Juturna warns the Daunian chief Of Lausus’ danger, urging swift relief. With his driv’n chariot he divides the crowd, And, making to his friends, thus calls aloud: “Let none presume his needless aid to join; Retire, and clear the field; the fight is mine: To this right hand is Pallas only due; O were his father here, my just revenge to view!” From the forbidden space his men retir’d. Pallas their awe, and his stern words, admir’d; Survey’d him o’er and o’er with wond’ring sight, Struck with his haughty mien, and tow’ring height. Then to the king: “Your empty vaunts forbear; Success I hope, and fate I cannot fear; Alive or dead, I shall deserve a name; Jove is impartial, and to both the same.” He said, and to the void advanc’d his pace: Pale horror sate on each Arcadian face. Then Turnus, from his chariot leaping light, Address’d himself on foot to single fight. And, as a lion—when he spies from far A bull that seems to meditate the war, Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand— Runs roaring downward from his hilly stand: Imagine eager Turnus not more slow, To rush from high on his unequal foe.