Meantime the cruel news floods Turnus’ ears in his forest-ambush, as Acca tells the warrior her tale of mighty terror: the Volscian ranks destroyed, Camilla slain, the enemy coming on like a torrent, sweeping all before their victorious 15 onslaught, the alarm already wafted to the walls. He, all on fire (for even such is Jove’s stern requirement), quits his post on the hills, leaves the impregnable forest. Scarce had he passed from their sight and occupied the plain, when father Æneas, entering the unguarded pass, 20 scales the hill-top, and issues through the shadowy wood. So the two rivals march cityward at full speed, each with all his army, nor long is the intervening distance; at the same moment Æneas looked far over the plains all smoking with dust, and saw the host of Laurentum, and Turnus was 25 aware of fell Æneas in battle array, and heard the onward tramp of feet and the neighing of steeds. Instantly they were for closing in fight and throwing for the stake of combat; but the time was come for reddening Phœbus to bathe his wearied team in the Hiberian flood, and bring back 30 night on the steps of retreating day. So they encamp before the city, and make their ramparts strong. BOOK XII When Turnus sees that the War-god’s enmity has broken the spirit of Latium, that men are beginning to claim his promise, and make him the mark of their eyes, he bursts at once into fury unappeasable, and swells his pride to the height. As in Punic land, when the hunters 5 have wounded him deep in the breast, the lion at last rouses himself to fight, tosses with fierce joy his mane from his neck, snaps fearlessly the brigand’s spear in the wound, and roars from his gory mouth: even so, Turnus once kindled, his vehemence grows each moment. Then he 10 addresses the king, and dashes hotly into speech: “Turnus stops not the way: Æneas and his cowards have no plea for retracting their challenge or disowning their plighted word; I meet the combat; bring the sacred things, good father, and solemnize the truce. Either will I with my own 15 right hand send the Dardan down to Tartarus, the runaway from Asia—let the Latians sit by and see—and with my single weapon refute the slander of a nation; or let the vanquished own their master and Lavinia be the conqueror’s bride.” 20