ted not: the hurrying gusts that word to breezes turn.

So when the shaft hurled from his hand gave sound upon the air,
All Volscians turn their hardy hearts, and all men's eyen bear 800
Upon the Queen: but she no whit had any breeze in mind,
Or whistle of the spear that sped from out the house of wind,
Until the hurrying shaft beneath her naked bosom stood,
And clung there, deeply driven home, drinking her virgin blood.
Her frighted damsels run to her and catch the falling maid,
But Arruns fleeth fast, forsooth more than all they afraid--
Afraid and glad--nor durst he more to trust him to the spear,
Or 'neath the hail of maiden darts his body forth to bear.
And as the murder-wolf, ere yet the avenging spear-points bite,
Straight hideth him in pathless place amid the mountain-height, 810
When he hath slain some shepherd-lad or bullock of the fold;
Down goes his tail, when once he knows his deed so overbold,
Along his belly close it clings as he the woodland seeks.
Not otherwise from sight of men the wildered Arruns sneaks,
And mingles in the middle fight, glad to be clear away.

Death-smitten, at the spear she plucks; amidst her bones it lay,
About the ribs, that iron point in baneful wound and deep:
She droopeth bloodless, droop her eyes acold in deadly sleep;
From out her cheeks the colour flees that once therewith were clear.
Then, passing, Acca she bespeaks, her very maiden peer, 820
Her who alone of all the rest might share Camilla's rede,
A trusted friend: such words to her the dying mouth doth speed:

"Sister, thus far my might hath gone; but now this bitter wound
Maketh an end, and misty dark are grown all things around:
Fly forth, and unto Turnus bear my very latest words;
Let him to fight, and from the town thrust off the Trojan swords--
Farewell, farewell!"--
And with the word the bridle failed her hold,
And unto earth unwilling now she flowed, and waxen cold
Slowly she slipped her body's bonds; her languid neck she bent,
Laid down the head that death had seized, and left her armament; 830
And with a groan her life flew forth disdainful into night.

Then rose the cry and smote aloft the starry golden height,
And with the Queen so felled to field the fight grew young again,
And thronged and serried falleth on th