intervening host and cut them off from the camp is Turnus’ fixed intent. Rise, and with the earliest approach of dawn bid your allies be summoned to arms, and take in hand that shield which the Fire-god himself made to be invincible and bordered with a marge of gold. The 20 morrow’s sun, if you will but give credence to my words, shall survey mighty heaps of Rutulian carnage.” Her speech was done: and as she parted she gave with her hand an impulse to the lofty stern, well knowing the due measure of force: on it speeds over the wave, fleeter than 25 dart and wind-swift arrow both. The rest in order mend their speed. Wondering he pauses, the great Trojan of Anchises’ line, yet cheers his soul with the omen. Then, looking to the vault above, he prays in brief: “Gracious mother of the gods, lady of Ida, whose joy is in Dindymus, 30 and in turreted cities and harnessed lions at thy bridle-rein, be thou now to me the controller of the fight, do thou bring the presage nigh, and walk beside the Phrygians, mighty goddess, with favouring step.” Thus much he said: and meanwhile day was returning at speed, 35 with its light grown to full strength, and night had vanished before it. First he gives orders to his comrades to obey the heavenly token, and nerve their souls for combat, and make ready for the fight. And now at last from his station on the tall stern he has the Teucrians and his camp in view, when on the instant his blazing shield is raised high on his left arm. Up goes a shout to heaven 5 from the Dardans on their ramparts; the gleam of hope quickens wrath to fury; they hurl a shower of javelins: even as amid dark clouds cranes from Strymon give token, sweeping sonorously over the sky, and flying from the southern gale with sequacious clamour. But the Rutulian 10 king and the Ausonian generals wonder at the sight, till, looking back, they behold the stems bearing to the shore, and the whole water floating on with vessels. There is a blaze on that helmet’s summit, and from the crest on high streams the flame, and the shield’s golden boss disgorges 15 mighty fires, even as when on a clear night blood-hued comets glare with gloomy red, or as the Sirian blaze, that harbinger of drought and sickness to weak mortality, breaks into birth and saddens heaven with its ill-boding rays. 20