Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/442

The hurtling cornel cuts the skies:
Loud clamours follow as it flies:
The assembly starts in mid alarm,
And hearts beat high with tumult warm.
There as nine brothers of one blood,
Gylippus' Arcad offspring, stood,
One, with bright arms and beauty graced,
Receives the javelin in his waist,
Where chafes the belt against the groin
And 'neath the ribs the buckles join;
Pierced through and through he falls amain,
And lies extended on the plain.
His gallant brethren feel the smart;
With falchion drawn or brandished dart
They charge, struck blind with rage.
Laurentum's host the shock withstand:
Like deluge bursting o'er the land
The Trojan force, the Agyllan band,
The Arcad troop engage.
Each burns alike with frantic zeal
To end the quarrel by the steel:
Stripped are the hearths; o'er all the sky
Dense iron showers in volleys fly:
With eager haste they run
To snatch the bowls and altar-sods:
Latinus takes his outraged gods
And leaves the league undone.
Those yoke again the battle car,
These vault into the selle,
And wave their falchions, drawn for war,
To challenge or repel.

Messapus singles from the rest
The king Aulestes, richly dressed
In robe and regal crown;
Spurning the truce, his horse he pressed,
And fiercely rides him down.