Messapus, fain to rend the troth, on hostile horse down-bears Upon Aulestes, Tuscan king, who kingly raiment wears: 290 He fled, but as abackward there away from him he went, Came on the altars at his back in hapless tanglement Of head and shoulders: thitherward doth hot Messapus fly With spear in hand, and from his steed he smites him heavily With the great beam amid his prayers, and word withal doth say: "He hath it, and the Gods have got a better host today!" Therewith to strip his body warm up runs the Italian band; But Corynæus from the hearth catches a half-burnt brand, And e'en as Ebusus comes up, and stroke in hand doth bear, He filleth all his face with flame; out doth his great beard flare, 300 And sendeth stink of burning forth: the Trojan followed on The wildered man, and with his left grip of his tresses won, And, straining hard with weight of knee, to earth he pinned his foe, And drave the stark sword through his side. See Podalirius go, Chasing the shepherd Alsus through the front of weapon-wrack; O'er him he hangs with naked sword; but he, with bill swung back, Cleaveth the foeman facing him through midmost brow and chin, And all about his battle-gear the bloody rain doth win: Then iron slumber fell on him, hard rest weighed down his eyes, And shut were they for evermore in night that never dies. 310 Then good Æneas stretched forth hands all empty of the sword, And called bare-headed on his folk, with eager shouted word: "Where rush ye on, and whither now doth creeping discord rise? Refrain your wrath; the troth is struck; its laws in equal wise Are doomed; and 'tis for me alone the battle to endure. Nay, let me be! cast fear away; my hand shall make it sure. This troth-plight, all these holy things, owe Turnus to my sword." But while his voice was sounding, lo, amidmost of his word, A whistling speedy-wingèd shaft unto the hero won; Unknown what hand hath sped it forth, what whirlwind bore it on; 320 What God, what hap, such glory gave to hands of Rutuli; Beneath the weight of things unknown dead doth the honour lie, Nor boasted any of the hurt Æneas had that day.