Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/367

First slays he Abas, warrior good,
Who erst, like knot in sturdy wood,
The edge of combat stayed.
Now Tuscans, now Arcadians bleed,
And Troy's indomitable breed.
The two hosts join in battle shock,
Their generals equal as their might:
From every side to front they flock,
Till pinioned in a deadly lock
Nor arm nor dart can smite.
Here Pallas bids the battle rage,
There Lausus leads; alike their age;
Both fair in form, but both denied
Return to their dear land.
Yet not for victory or defeat
May each with each in conflict meet;
Each must his destiny abide
Beneath a mightier hand.

Now Turnus' sister warns her chief
That gallant Lausus needs relief;
At once, impetuous on his car,
He cleaves a pathway through the war,
And 'Lay' he cries 'your weapons by:
I cope with Pallas, none but I;
Stand off, nor rob me of my due;
Would Heaven his sire were here to view!'
He spoke; his mates obedient hear,
And parting, leave the champaign clear.
Thence as the yielding crowd retires,
The brave youth pauses and admires,
Much marvels at his haughty phrase,
And scans his form with eager gaze;
Then, rolling round undaunted eyes,
With speech as resolute replies:
'Or goodly spoils shall make me great,
Or honourable death;