Soon as Turnus sees Æneas retiring from the battle, and the Trojan leaders in confusion, he glows with swift access of hope, calls for horses and armour, bounds like a conqueror into the chariot, and takes the reins in hand. Many a heroic frame he slaughters as he whirls along, many 10 he tumbles and leaves to live or die, crushes whole ranks by the onset of his car, or plucks forth spears and hurls them at the fliers. Just as storming along by Hebrus’ icy flood gore-stained Mars smites on his shield, and stirring battle lets loose his fiery steeds: they fly over the plains 15 faster than winds southern or western: Thrace groans to her extremity under the beat of their hoofs: around him circle the frowns of black-visaged Terror, and the powers of Wrath and Treachery, liege followers of the god: with like eagerness through the thickest of the battle Turnus 20 whirls his straining horses, trampling in piteous sort on the slaughtered foe: the flying hoof spirts gory dew, and blood and sand are kneaded in a mass. Sthenelus he has slain already, and Thamyris and Pholus, these hand to hand, that from a distance: a distant death, too, has found the 25 Imbrasidæ, Glaucus and Lades, trained in Lycia by Imbrasus their sire, and by him harnessed alike, warriors who could stand and fight or outride the winds. In another part of the field Eumedes is riding through the fray, the gallant son of ancient Dolon, with the name of his grandsire, 30 the heart and hand of his sire, who of old, offering to spy out the Danaan camp, dared to ask Achilles’ chariot as his guerdon; far other guerdon was it with which Diomed requited his daring, and his hopes are set on Achilles’ steeds no longer. Marking him at distance along 35 the plain, Turnus first sends after him a flying spear through the intervening space, then stops the car and dismounts, comes on the wretch gasping and laid low, and setting his foot on his neck, wrests the sword from his hand, bathes it flashing deep in his throat, and thus accompanies the blow: “Lie there, Trojan, and measure the Hesperian soil you came to invade: such are their guerdons who draw their swords on me; so build they up their city.” 5 Then with a spear throw he sends Asbutes to join the dead. Chloreus and Sybaris and Dares and Thersilochus, Thymœtes too, thrown off by a restiff horse. As when the blast of Thracian Boreas roars on the deep Ægean and drives the billows to the shore, wherever the winds push 10 on, the clouds scurry over the sky, so when Turnus cleaves his path, the ranks give way, the armies turn in rout; the motion bears him along, and the gale which blows on the car tosses his flickering crest. Phegeus, indignant at his overweening onset, meets the car and grasping the bridle 15