Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/339

Pandarus and Bitias, brethren twain,
Descended of Alcanor's strain
(Iæra bore them, nymph divine:
Their stature matched the hill-side pine
Or e'en the hills' own height),
Throw wide the gate they held in charge,
And trusting but to spear and targe
The foe's advance invite.
Themselves within the gateway stand,
Fronting the towers on either hand,
Magnificent in steel array,
And toss their plumes on high:
So two fair oaks that proudly grow
On banks of Athesis or Po
Their unshorn heads aloft display
And tower into the sky.
With eager joy the Rutules see
The gates thrown wide, the entrance free,
And pour by hundreds in:
Full soon Aquicolus the fair,
With Quercens, Hæmon, fiery Tmare,
To flight with all their followers turn,
Or with their heels the threshold spurn
But now they thought to win.
Fierce and more fierce the combat glows:
In gathering ranks the Trojans close,
Nor further onset wait,
But foot to foot defy their foes,
And press beyond the gate.

Meanwhile to Turnus, as afar
On other parts he launches war
And mars the foe's array,
Comes word that, flushed with blood new-shed,
The sons of Troy forget their dread,
And wide their gates display.