Whom, to the Lydian king, Licymnia bare, } And sent her boasted bastard to the war: } (A privilege which none but freemen share.) } Slight were his arms, a sword and silver shield: No marks of honour charged its empty field. Light as he fell, so light the youth arose, And rising, found himself amidst his foes; Nor flight was left, nor hopes to force his way. Emboldened by despair, he stood at bay; And, like a stag, whom all the troop surrounds Of eager huntsmen and invading hounds-- Resolved on death, he dissipates his fears, And bounds aloft against the pointed spears: So dares the youth, secure of death; and throws His dying body on his thickest foes. But Lycus, swifter of his feet by far, Runs, doubles, winds, and turns, amidst the war; Springs to the walls, and leaves his foes behind, And snatches at the beam he first can find; Looks up, and leaps aloft at all the stretch, In hopes the helping hand of some kind friend to reach. But Turnus followed hard his hunted prey, (His spear had almost reached him in the way, Short of his reins, and scarce a span behind,) "Fool!" said the chief, "though fleeter than the wind, Could'st thou presume to 'scape, when I pursue?" He said, and downward by the feet he drew The trembling dastard; at the tug he falls; Vast ruins come along rent from the smoking walls. Thus on some silver swan, or timorous hare, Jove's bird comes sowsing down from upper air; Her crooked talons truss the fearful prey: Then out of sight she soars, and wings her way. So seizes the grim wolf the tender lamb, In vain lamented by the bleating dam. Then rushing onward with a barbarous cry, The troops of Turnus to the combat fly. The ditch with faggots filled, the daring foe Tossed firebrands to the steepy turrets throw. Ilioneus, as bold Lucetius came To force the gate, and feed the kindling flame, Rolled down the fragment of a rock so right, It crushed him double underneath the weight. Two more young Liger and Asylas slew: } To bend the bow young Liger better knew; } Asylas best the pointed javelin threw. } Brave Cæneus laid Ortygius on the plain; The victor Cæneus was by Turnus slain. By the same hand, Clonius and Itys fall, Sagar, and Idas standing on the wall. From Capys' arms his fate Privernus found: Hurt by Temilla first--but slight the wound-- His shield thrown by, to mitigate the smart, He clapped his hand upon the wounded part: The second shaft came swift and unespied, And pierced his hand, and nailed it to his side, Transfixed his breathing lungs, and beating heart: The soul came issuing out, and hissed against the dart. The son of Arcens shone amid the rest, In glittering armour and a purple vest, (Fair was his face, his eyes inspiring love,)