XLIX. Shagg'd with rough brakes and sable ilex, spread The wood, and, glimmering in the twilight grey, Through broken tracks a narrow pathway led. The shadowy boughs, the cumbrous spoils delay Euryalus, and fear mistakes the way. Nisus, unheeding, through the foemen flies, And gains the place,--called Alba now--where lay Latinus' pastures; then with back-turned eyes Stands still, and seeks in vain his absent friend, and cries: L. "Where, in what quarter, have I left thee? Where, Euryalus, shall I follow thee? What clue Shall trace the mazes of this silvan snare, The tangled path unravelling?" Back he flew, Picking his footsteps with observant view, And roamed the silent brushwood. Steeds he hears, The noise, the signs of foemen who pursue. A moment more, and, bursting on his ears, There came a shout, and lo, Euryalus appears. LI. Him, in false ways, amid the darkness, ta'en, The gathering band with sudden rush o'erbear. Poor Nisus sees him struggling, but in vain. What should he do? By force of arms how dare His friend to rescue? Shall he face them there, And rush upon the foemen's swords, to die, And welcome wounds that win a death so fair? His spear he poises, and with upturned eye And stalwart arm drawn back, invokes the Moon on high: LII. "Come thou, Latonia, succour my distress! Guardian of groves, bright glory of the sky, If e'er with offerings for his son's success My sire thine altars hath adorned, or I Enriched them from the chase, and hung on high Spoils in thy deep-domed temple, or arrayed Thy roof with plunder; make this troop to fly, And guide my weapons through the air." He prayed, And, winged with strength, the steel went whistling through the shade. LIII. It struck the shield of Sulmo at his side; There broke the shaft and splintered. Down he rolled Pierced through the midriff, and his life's warm tide Poured from his bosom, and the long sobs told Its heavings, ere the stiffening limbs grew cold. All look around and tremble, when again The youth another javelin, waxing bold, Aimed from his ear-tip. Through the temples twain Of Tagus whizzed the steel, and warmed within the brain. LIV. Fierce Volscens raves with anger, nor espies The wielder of the weapon, nor which way To rush, aflame with fury. "Thou," he cries, "Thy blood meanwhile the penalty shall pay For both," and with his falchion bared to slay Springs at Euryalus. Then, wild with fear, Poor Nisus shouts, in frenzy of dismay, Nor longer in the dark can hide, nor bear A pang of grief so keen--to lose a friend so dear,