Saturnia, still at hand, new force and fire supplies. Then Halius, Prytanis, Alcander fall-- Engaged against the foes who scaled the wall: But, whom they feared without, they found within. At last, though late, by Lynceus he was seen. He calls new succours, and assaults the prince: But weak his force, and vain is their defence. Turned to the right, his sword the hero drew, And at one blow the bold aggressor slew. He joints the neck; and, with a stroke so strong, The helm flies off, and bears the head along. Next him, the huntsman Amycus he killed, In darts envenomed and in poison skilled. Then Clytius fell beneath his fatal spear, And Cretheus, whom the Muses held so dear: He fought with courage, and he sung the fight; Arms were his business, verses his delight. The Trojan chiefs behold, with rage and grief, Their slaughtered friends, and hasten their relief. Bold Mnestheus rallies first the broken train, Whom brave Serestus and his troop sustain. To save the living, and revenge the dead, Against one warrior's arms all Troy they led. "O, void of sense and courage!" Mnestheus cried, "Where can you hope your coward heads to hide? Ah! where beyond these rampires can you run? One man, and in your camp inclosed, you shun! Shall then a single sword such slaughter boast, And pass unpunished from a numerous host? Forsaking honour, and renouncing fame, Your gods, your country, and your king, you shame!" This just reproach their virtue does excite: They stand, they join, they thicken to the fight. Now Turnus doubts, and yet disdains to yield, But with slow paces measures back the field, And inches to the walls, where Tyber's tide, Washing the camp, defends the weaker side. The more he loses, they advance the more, And tread in every step he trod before. They shout; they bear him back; and, whom by might They cannot conquer, they oppress with weight. As, compassed with a wood of spears around, The lordly lion still maintains his ground; Grins horrible, retires, and turns again; Threats his distended paws, and shakes his mane; He loses while in vain he presses on, Nor will his courage let him dare to run: So Turnus fares, and, unresolved of flight, Moves tardy back, and just recedes from fight. Yet twice, enraged, the combat he renews, Twice breaks, and twice his broken foes pursues. But now they swarm, and, with fresh troops supplied, Come rolling on, and rush from every side: Nor Juno, who sustained his arms before, Dares with new strength suffice the exhausted store; For Jove, with sour commands, sent Iris down, To force the invader from the frighted town. With labour spent, no longer can he wield The heavy faulchion, or sustain the shield, O'erwhelmed with darts, which from afar they fling: