Camers was son to Volscens lately slain, } In wealth surpassing all the Latian train, } And in Amyclæ fixed his silent easy reign. } And, as Ægæon, when with heaven he strove, Stood opposite in arms to mighty Jove; Moved all his hundred hands, provoked the war, Defied the forky lightning from afar; At fifty mouths his flaming breath expires, And flash for flash returns, and fires for fires; In his right hand as many swords he wields, And takes the thunder on as many shields: With strength like his, the Trojan hero stood; } And soon the fields with falling corpse were strowed, } When once his faulchion found the taste of blood. } With fury scarce to be conceived, he flew Against Niphæus, whom four coursers drew. They, when they see the fiery chief advance, And pushing at their chests his pointed lance, Wheeled with so swift a motion, mad with fear, They threw their master headlong from the chair. They stare, they start, nor stop their course, before They bear the bounding chariot to the shore. Now Lucagus and Liger scour the plains, } With two white steeds; but Liger holds the reins, } And Lucagus the lofty seat maintains-- } Bold brethren both. The former waved in air } His flaming sword: Æneas couched his spear, } Unused to threats, and more unused to fear. } Then Liger thus:--"Thy confidence is vain To 'scape from hence, as from the Trojan plain: Nor these the steeds which Diomede bestrode, Nor this the chariot where Achilles rode; Nor Venus' veil is here, nor Neptune's shield; Thy fatal hour is come, and this the field." Thus Liger vainly vaunts: the Trojan peer Returned his answer with his flying spear. As Lucagus, to lash his horses, bends, Prone to the wheels, and his left foot protends, Prepared for fight--the fatal dart arrives, And through the border of his buckler drives; Passed through, and pierced his groin. The deadly wound, Cast from his chariot, rolled him on the ground: Whom thus the chief upbraids with scornful spite:-- "Blame not the slowness of your steeds in flight; Vain shadows did not force their swift retreat; But you yourself forsake your empty seat." He said, and seized at once the loosened rein; For Liger lay already on the plain By the same shock; then, stretching out his hands, The recreant thus his wretched life demands:-- "Now, by thyself, O more than mortal man! By her and him from whom thy breath began, Who formed thee thus divine, I beg thee, spare This forfeit life, and hear thy suppliant's prayer." Thus much he spoke, and more he would have said; But the stern hero turned aside his head, And cut him short:--"I hear another man; You talked not thus before the fight began. Now take your turn; and, as a brother should,