Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/363

'Neath Dryops' chin he drives his spear;
Through neck and throat the point cuts sheer
And quenches voice and breath.
The dead brow tumbles on the shore,
The ghastly jaws disgorging gore.
Three too from Boreas' seed of Thrace
And three from Idas' ancient race
Beneath his weapon bleed:
The Aurancan tribes to rescue run,
Halæsus first, and Neptune's son,
The tamer of the steed.
Then burns the fray: now these, now those
Essay to dispossess their foes:
E'en on Ausonia's brink they close
In fierce and deathful fight.
So in the amplitude of sky
Discordant winds the combat try
With equal rage and might:
Nor blasts, nor clouds, nor waves give way:
Long balanced hangs the doubtful day:
In deadly grips they stand.
Thus Trojan and Italian meet,
With face to face, and feet to feet,
And hand close pressed to hand.

In other regions of the field
Where stones and torn-up trees are spread
Athwart a torrent's channelled bed,
Young Pallas sees the Arcadians yield:
Forced by the ground to put aside
The gallant steeds they wont to ride,
And all unused on foot to fight,
They break and turn their backs in flight.
Upbraiding, soothing, all he can,
He prays them, taunts them, man by man: