Turnus, far off, Raging and rioting, heard the glad tidings Of enemies gone wild with slaughter, gates Flung open wide. Whatever he was doing He broke off gladly, burned with monstrous anger, Rushed to the Trojan gate and those proud brothers. Antiphates came to meet him, bastard son Of tall Sarpedon and a Theban mother, And Turnus’ javelin laid him low: it flew, Italian cornel-wood, through the soft air, Lodged in the throat, pierced deep into the chest. The wound’s dark hollow filled with foaming red, The steel grew warm in the lung. And Turnus’ hand Brought down Meropes, Erymas, Aphidnus, Then Bitias blazing-eyed and hot in spirit. No javelin brought him down, no common javelin Would ever have killed that giant, but a pikestaff, Rifled and whirring loud, driven like lightning, Cut through the double leather, the double mail With scales of gold, and the huge limbs sprawl and tumble, Earth groans, and his great shield clangs down above him, The way a pillar of rock comes down, at Baiae, When men have pried it loose and shoved it over Into the ocean, and, crashing down in ruin, It lies in shallow water, confusion of sea, Eruption of black sand, and the shock of sound Makes the high mountains tremble, and the earth Shudder under the oceans. And Mars added New strength and spirit to the Latins, raked them With the sharp sting of the spur, and sent the Trojans Panic and runaway fear. The Latins, given The chance of fight, come on, as the war-god rides them. Pandarus, seeing his brother’s fallen body, Seeing the turn of fortune, puts his shoulder With all his strength to the gate, and slowly, slowly, Swings it on stubborn hinge, to leave his comrades, Many of them, shut out, beyond the rampart, Fighting in desperate battle; others he welcomes As they come pouring in, the fool, not seeing One of them was no Trojan! That was Turnus, Shut up in the town, as welcome as a tiger Penned in a flock of sheep. And Turnus’ eyes Shone with new light, his arms rang loud, his plume Nodded blood-red, and his great shield flashed lightning. Sudden confusion fastened on the Trojans; They knew him as he was, gigantic, hateful, But Pandarus flashed forward toward him, burning With vengeance for a brother’s death, and shouting:-- “Why, this is not Amata’s bridal palace, Nor yet the center of your father’s city! This is a hostile camp you see here, Turnus, And not a chance to leave it.” Turnus only Smiled at him with untroubled heart:--“Start something, If there is any fighting spirit in you; Come closer; I have a message for king Priam: Tell him Achilles was here.” And Pandarus flung His spear, rough-knotted, the unpeeled bark still on it,