eyes, aflame with wrath, and grasped the town in view.

LXXXVIII. From floor to floor, behold, a tower upblazed,--
The tower, with bridge above and wheels below,
Himself with beams and mortised planks had raised.
"Sister," he cries, "Fate conquers; let us go
The way which Heaven and cruel fortune show.
I stand to meet AEneas in the fray,
And die; if death be bitter, be it so.
No more dishonoured shalt thou see me, nay,
O sister, let me vent this fury, while I may."

LXXXIX. He spake, and quickly vaulting from his car,
Through foes, through darts, his sister left to mourn,
Rushed headlong forth, and broke the ranks of war.
As when a boulder, from a hill-top borne,
Which rains have washed, or blustering winds have torn,
Or creeping years have loosened, down the steep,
From crag to crag, leaps headlong, and in scorn
Goes bounding on, and with resistless sweep
Lays waste the woods, and whelms the shepherd and his sheep;

XC. So Turnus through the broken ranks doth fly
On to the town-walls, where the crimson plain
Is soaked, and shrill with javelins shrieks the sky,
Then shouts, with hand uplifted, to his train,
"Rutulians, hold! Ye Latin men refrain!
Mine are the risks of Fortune, mine of right,
The truce thus torn, to expiate the stain,
And let the sword give judgment." At the sight
The hostile ranks divide, and clear the lists of fight.

XCI. But when the Sire AEneas heard the name
Of Turnus, and his foeman's form espied,
Down from the ramparts and the towers he came,
And scorned delay, and put all else aside,
Thundering in arms, and glorying in his pride.
As Athos huge, as Eryx huge he shows,
Or huge as Father Apennine, whose side
Roars with his nodding oaks, when drifted snows
Shine on his joyous crest, and lighten on his brows.

XCII. Rutulians, Trojans, Latins,--each and all
Look wondering on, both they who man the height,
And they who batter at the base. Down fall
Their arms. Amazed Latinus views the sight,
Two chiefs from distant countries, matched in might.
The lists set wide, they dash into the fray.
Each hurls a spear, then, hand to hand, they fight.
Loud ring the shields, and quick the broadswords play.
Earth groans, and chance contends with courage for the day.

XCIII. As on Taburnus, or in Sila's shade
Two bulls, with butting foreheads, mix in fray: