and men: so, dashing the ranks apart, rushes Turnus to the city walls, where the earth is wet with plashy blood, and the gale hurtles with spears: he beckons with his hand, and cries with a mighty voice: “Have done, ye Rutulians! ye Latians, hold back your darts! whatever Fortune brings she brings to me: ’tis juster far that I in your stead should singly expiate the treaty’s breach and try the issue of the steel.” All at the word part from the 5 midst, and leave him a clear space. But father Æneas, hearing Turnus’ name, quits his hold on the walls and the battlements that crown them, flings delay to the winds and breaks off the work of war, steps high in triumph, and makes his arms peal dread 10 thunder: vast as Athos, vast as Eryx, vast as father Apennine himself, when he roars with his quivering holms[286] and lifts his snowy crest exultingly to the sky. All turn their eyes with eager contention. Rutulians, Trojans, and Italians, those alike who were manning the towers and 15 those whose battering-rams were assailing the foundations. All unbrace their armour. Latinus himself stands amazed to see two men so mighty, born in climes so distant each from each, thus met together to try the steel’s issue. At once, when a space is cleared on the plain, first hurling 20 their spears, they advance with swift onset, and dash into the combat with shield and ringing harness. Earth groans beneath them; their swords hail blow on blow: chance and valour mingle pell-mell. As when on mighty Sila or Taburnus’ summit two bulls, lowering their brows for 25 combat, engage fiercely: the herdsmen retreat in dread: the cattle all stand dumb with terror, the heifers wait in suspense who is to be the monarch of the woodland, whom the herds are to follow henceforth: they each in turn give furious blows, push and lodge their horns, and 30 bathe neck and shoulders with streams of blood: the sound makes the forest bellow again: with no less fury Æneas the Trojan, and the Daunian chief clash shield on shield: the enormous din fills the firmament. Jupiter himself holds aloft his scales poised and level, and lays 35 therein the destinies of the two, to see whom the struggle dooms, and whose the weight that death bears down. Forth darts Turnus, deeming it safe, rises with his whole frame on the uplifted sword, and strikes, Trojans and eager Latians shout aloud: both armies gaze expectant. But the faithless sword snaps in twain and fails its fiery lord midway in the stroke, unless flight should come to his aid. Off he flies swifter than the wind, seeing an unknown 5 hilt in his defenceless hand. Men say that in his headlong haste, when first he was mounting the car harnessed for battle, he left behind his father’s falchion and