Now Cædicus slays Alcathous; Sacrator ends outright Hydaspes; then Parthenius stark and Orses fall in fight By Rapo; and Messapus fells strong Clonius, and the son, Of Lycaon; one laid alow, by his own steeds cast down, 750 One foot to foot. Lo Agis now, the Lycian, standeth forth, Whom Valerus, that nothing lacked his grandsire's might and worth, O'erthroweth: Salius Thronius slays; Nealces, Salius; For skilled he was in dart and shaft, far-flying, perilous. Now grief and death in Mavors' scales even for each they lie; Victors and vanquished, here they slay, and here they fall and die, But neither these nor those forsooth had fleeing in their thought. But in Jove's house the Gods had ruth of rage that nothing wrought, And such a world of troubles sore for men of dying days; On this side Venus, and on that Saturnian Juno gaze; 760 And wan Tisiphonè runs wild amid the thousands there. But lo, Mezentius fierce and fell, shaking a mighty spear, Stalks o'er the plain.--Lo now, how great doth great Orion sweep Afoot across the Nereus' field, the mid sea's mightiest deep, Cleaving his way, raised shoulder-high above the billowy wash; Or when from off the mountain-top he bears an ancient ash His feet are on the soil of earth, the cloud-rack hides his head: --E'en so in mighty battle-gear afield Mezentius sped. But now Æneas, noting him adown the battle-row, Wendeth to meet him; undismayed he bideth for his foe, 770 Facing the great-souled man, and stands unmoved, a mighty mass: Then measuring the space between if spear thereby may pass: "Right hand," he cries, "my very God, and fleeing spear I shake, To aid! Thee, Lausus, clad in arms that I today shall take From body of the sea-thief here I vow for gift of war Over Æneas slain." He spake, and hurled the shaft afar Loud whistling: from the shield it glanced, and flying far and wide Smit glory-great Antores down through bowels and through side: Antores friend of Hercules, who, erst from Argos come, 780 Clung to Evander, and abode in that Italian home: There laid to earth by straying wound he looketh on the sky, With lovely Argos in his heart, though death be come anigh.