Before the fight, and then preferr’d his ablesse and his mind To all his ancestors in fight, now come so far behind; Whom thus he answer’d: “Urge no flight, you cannot please me so; Nor is it honest in my mind to fear a coming foe, Or make a flight good, though with fight. My pow’rs are yet entire, And scorn the help-tire of a horse. I will not blow the fire Of their hot valours with my flight, but cast upon the blaze This body borne upon my knees. I entertain amaze? Minerva will not see that shame. And since they have begun, They shall not both elect their ends; and he that ’scapes shall run, Or stay and take the other’s fate. And this I leave for thee;— If amply-wise Athenia give both their lives to me, Rein our horse to their chariot hard, and have a special heed To seize upon Æneas’ steeds, that we may change their breed, And make a Grecian race of them that have been long of Troy. For these are bred of those brave beasts which, for the lovely boy That waits now on the cup of Jove, Jove, that far-seeing God, Gave Tros the king in recompense; the best that ever trod The sounding centre, underneath the morning and the sun. Anchises stole the breed of them; for, where their sires did run, He closely put his mares to them, and never made it known To him that heir’d them, who was then the king Laomedon. Six horses had he of that race, of which himself kept four, And gave the other two his son; and these are they that scour The field so bravely towards us, expert in charge and flight. If these we have the pow’r to take, our prise is exquisite, And our renown will far exceed.” While these were talking thus, The fir’d horse brought th’ assailants near, and thus spake Pandarus: “Most suff’ring-minded Tydeus’ son, that hast of war the art, My shaft, that strook thee, slew thee not, I now will prove a dart.” This said, he shook, and then he threw, a lance, aloft and large, That in Tydides’ curets stuck, quite driving through his targe; Then bray’d he out so wild a voice that all the field might hear: “Now have I reach’d thy root of life, and by thy death shall bear Our praise’s chief prise from the field.” Tydides undismay’d Replied: “Thou err’st, I am not touch’d; but more charge will be laid To both your lives before you part; at least the life of one Shall satiate the throat of Mars.” This said, his lance was gone, Minerva led it to his face, which at his eye ran in, And, as he stoop’d, strook through his jaws, his tongue’s root, and his chin. Down from the chariot he fell, his gay arms shin’d and rung, The swift horse trembled, and his soul for ever charm’d his tongue. Æneas with his shield, and lance, leapt swiftly to his friend, Afraid the Greeks would force his trunk; and that he did defend, Bold as a lion of his strength; he hid him with his shield, Shook round his lance, and horribly did threaten all the field With death, if any durst make in. Tydides rais’d a stone With his one hand, of wondrous weight, and pour’d it mainly on