The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more Shall dye, with mutual blood, the Latian shore: Our single swords the quarrel shall decide, And to the victor be the beauteous bride." He said, and, striding on with speedy pace, He sought his coursers of the Thracian race. At his approach, they toss their heads on high, And, proudly neighing, promise victory. The sires of these Orithyia sent from far, To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war. The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so white, Nor northern winds in fleetness matched their flight. Officious grooms stand ready by his side; } And some with combs their flowing manes divide, } And others stroke their chests, and gently sooth their pride. } He sheathed his limbs in arms; a tempered mass Of golden metal those, and mountain-brass. Then to his head his glittering helm he tied, And girt his faithful faulchion to his side. In his Ætnæan forge, the god of fire That faulchion laboured for the hero's sire, Immortal keenness on the blade bestowed, And plunged it hissing in the Stygian flood. Propped on a pillar, which the cieling bore, Was placed the lance Auruncan Actor wore; Which with such force he brandished in his hand, The tough ash trembled like an osier wand: Then cried,--"O ponderous spoil of Actor slain, And never yet by Turnus tossed in vain! Fail not this day thy wonted force; but go, Sent by this hand, to pierce the Trojan foe: Give me to tear his corslet from his breast, And from that eunuch head to rend the crest; Dragged in the dust, his frizzled hair to soil, Hot from the vexing iron, and smeared with fragrant oil." Thus while he raves, from his wide nostrils flies A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes. So fares the bull in his loved female's sight: Proudly he bellows, and preludes the fight: He tries his goring horns against a tree, And meditates his absent enemy: He pushes at the winds; he digs the strand With his black hoofs, and spurns the yellow sand. Nor less the Trojan, in his Lemnian arms, To future fight his manly courage warms: He whets his fury, and with joy prepares To terminate at once the lingering wars; To cheer his chiefs and tender son, relates What heaven had promised, and expounds the fates. Then to the Latian king he sends, to cease The rage of arms, and ratify the peace. The morn ensuing, from the mountain's height, Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy light; The etherial coursers, bounding from the sea, From out their flaming nostrils breathed the day; When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard, In friendly labour joined, the list prepared. Beneath the walls, they measure out the space; } Then sacred altars rear, on sods of grass, }