onflict. "I alone," he said, "will
encounter Pallas; to me his life is given. Would to Heaven his father were
here to witness our combat." The Rutulians obeyed the command of their
king, and fell back; while Pallas, amazed at their retreat and the sudden
appearance of Turnus, gazed on his opponent. Then, in reply to his
vaunting speech, he said, "Now, either by carrying off thy spoils or by a
noble death at thy hands, I shall be rendered famous. My sire knows how to
bear either extremity of fortune. Cease thy threatenings and let us
engage." As he spoke, the hearts of the Arcadians, who loved him, were
filled with fear and sorrow. Turnus sprang from his chariot, and came
forward to the encounter on foot, advancing as a lion bounds toward his
prey. As soon as Pallas thought him within reach of his spear, he prepared
to throw it, and uttered this prayer to Hercules: "By my father's
hospitality, and that abode which thou, his guest, didst visit, O Alcides,
aid, I implore thee, my arduous attempt. May the dying eyes of Turnus
behold me strip him, expiring, of his bloody armor, and endure the sight
of a victorious foe." Hercules, from his place on Olympus, heard the
prayer, and knowing that the decree of Fate was otherwise, answered with
heavy groans and unavailing tears. These were not unseen by Jupiter, who
strove to console his immortal son. "To every one," he said, "his day is
fixed; a short and irretrievable term of life is given to all; but to
lengthen out fame by heroic deeds is the best that man can do. Under the
lofty walls of Troy many sons of gods themselves perished,--among them the
heroic Sarpedon, my own offspring, perished; Turnus, too, is summoned by
the Fates, and has nearly reached his term of life." He spoke, and turned
away his gaze from the battlefield, himself pitying the untimely death of
Pallas.

And now the brave son of Evander with his utmost force hurled his spear,
and then hastened to draw his sword from its scabbard. The weapon struck
Turnus where the shoulder was protected by the corselet, and piercing
through the solid brass, slightly grazed the hero's body. Then Turnus,
poising a steel-tipped javelin, darted it at Pallas, exclaiming, "See
whether mine be not the more penetrating shaft." Cast with irresistible
might, it tore its way through the youth's shield, composed though it was
of thick plates of brass and iron, and through his cuirass, and inflicted
a ghastly wound in his breast. In vain h