No less Æneas picks his way amid the winding road, Tracking the man, and through the rout cries ever high and loud; But e'en as oftentimes as he his foeman caught with eye, And 'gainst the flight of wingèd steeds his running feet would try, So oft the speedy wain of war Jaturna turned aside. Ah, what to do? In vain he went, borne on a shifting tide, While diverse cares to clashing ways the soul within him drave. But lo, Messapus, speedy-light, who chanced in hand to have Two light and limber shafts of tree, each with its iron head, Now whirling one, a shot well aimed unto the hero sped: 490 Ænesis stayed, and gathered him behind his shielding-gear, And sank upon his knee; no less the eager-driven spear Smote on his helm, and shore away the topmost of his crest Then verily his wrath arose; by all that guile oppressed, When he beheld the steeds and car far from his battle borne, He bade Jove witness, and the hearths of troth-plight wronged and torn: He breaks at last amidst of them with Mars to help him on, And fearful speedeth work of death wherein he spareth none, And casteth every rein aside that held his anger in. What God shall tell me all the woe, what God the song shall win 500 Of shifting death and Dukes undone, and all those many dead, By Turnus and by him of Troy about the fight-field spread? O Jupiter, was this thy will, that nations doomed to live In peace hereafter, on that day in such a broil should strive? Rutulian Sucro was the first that Trojan onset stayed; Æneas met him, and forsooth no long delay he made, But smote his side, and through his ribs and fencing of the breast Drave on his bitter naked sword where way was easiest. Turnus afoot met Amycus, cast down from off his horse, His brother, swift Diores, too: the first amidst his course 510 The long spear smote, the sword the last; the heads of both the twain He hangeth up and beareth on shedding a bloody rain. Talon and Tanais therewith, Cethegus stout to do, All three at once the Trojan sped, and sad Onytes slew, Whom to the name of Echion Peridia's womb did yield. Then Turnus slew the brethren sent from Phoebus' Lycian field: Menates, too, of Arcady, who loathed the war in vain; By fruitful fishy Lerna's flood was once his life and gain, And unrich house, and nought he knew of mighty men's abode, And hired for a price of men the earth his father sowed. 520