cred fire.

XXVIII. Long while unequal to Rutulian eyes
The combat seemed, and trouble tossed them sore,
Now more, beholding nearer, how in size
And strength the champions differed, yea, and more,
Beholding Turnus, as he moved before
The altars, sad and silently, and seeks
With downcast eyes Heaven's favour to implore,
The wanness of his youthful frame, that speaks
Of health and hope now fled, the pallor of his cheeks.

XXIX. Soon as Juturna saw the whispers grow
From tongue to tongue, and marked the changing tone,
The hearts of people wavering to and fro,
Amidst them,--now in form of Camers known,
Great Camers, sprung from grandsires of renown,
His father famed for many a brave emprise,
Himself as famed for exploits of his own,--
Amidst them, mistress of her part, she flies,
And scatters words of doubt, and many a dark surmise.

XXX. "Shame, will ye risk, Rutulians, for his host
The life of one? In number, strength and show
Do we not match them? _Those_ are all they boast,
Trojans, Arcadians and Etruscans. Lo,
Fight we by turns, each scarce can find a foe.
He to his gods, whose shrines he dies to shield,
Will rise, and praised will be his name below.
We, reft of home, to tyrant lords shall yield,
And toil as slaves, who sit so slackly on the field."

XXXI. So saying, Juturna to the youths imparts
Fresh rage, and murmurs through the concourse run,
And changed are Latin and Laurentian hearts,
And they, who lately sought the strife to shun,
And longed for rest, now wish the league undone,
And, pitying Turnus, wrongly doomed to die,
Call out for arms. And now, her work begun,
Juturna shows a lying sign on high,
That shakes Italian hearts, and cheats the wondering eye.

XXXII. Jove's golden eagle through the crimson skies
In chase of clanging marsh-fowl, swooped in flight
Down on a swan, and trussed the noble prize.
The Latins gaze, when lo, a wondrous sight!
Back wheels the flock, and all with screams unite,
And darkening, as a cloud, in dense array
Press on the foe, till, overborne by might,
And yielding to sheer weight, he drops the prey
Into the stream below, and cloudward soars away.

XXXIII. With shouts the glad Rutulians hail the sign,
And lift their hands. Then spake the seer straightway,
Tolumnius: "Welcome, welcome, powers divine!
'Twas this--'twa