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422
THE ÆNEID.

Again he hurls his spear, and sends
Asbytes to rejoin his friends:
And Chloreus, Dares, Sybaris,
The ground in quick succession kiss;
Thersilochus, Thymœtes too,
Whose restiff steed his rider threw.
As when the northwind's tyrant stress
Makes loud the Ægæan roar,
Still following on the waves that press
Tumultuous to the shore,
Where drives the gale, the cloud-rack flies
In wild confusion o'er the skies:
So wheresoe'er through all the field
Comes Turnus on, whole squadrons yield,
Turn, and resist no more:
The impulse bears him as he goes,
And 'gainst the wind his plumage flows.
With shame and anger Phegeus saw
The chief's insulting pride:
He meets the car, and strives to draw
The steeds' proud necks aside.
There, dragged as to the yoke he clings,
The spear his side has found,
Bursts through the corslet's plaited rings,
And prints a surface wound:
Shifting his shield, he threats the foe,
His sword plucks out, and aims a blow:
When the fierce wheels with onward bound
Dislodge and dash him to the ground:
And Turnus' weaponed hand,
Stretched from the car, the head has reft
Where helm and breastplate meet, and left
The trunk upon the sand.

While Turnus heaps the plain with dead,
Æneas, with Achates tried