But the keen Umbrian, all agape, is by,
Now grasps,--now holds him,--and now thinks to tear,
And snaps his teeth on nothing; and a cry
Rings back from shore and stream, and rolls along the sky.

XCIX. Chiding by name his comrades, as he flies,
Fierce Turnus for his trusty sword doth cry.
Nor less AEneas with his threat defies,
"Stand off," he shouts, "who ventures to draw nigh,
His town shall perish, and himself shall die."
Onward, though maimed, he presses to his prey.
Twice five times circling round the field they fly;
For no mean stake or sportive prize they play,
Lo, Turnus' life and blood are wagered in the fray.

C. A wilding olive on the sward had stood,
Sacred to Faunus. Mariners of yore
In worship held the venerable bough,
When to Laurentum's guardian, safe on shore
Their votive raiment and their gifts they bore.
That sacred tree, the lists of fight to clear,
Troy's sons had lopped. There, in the trunk's deep core,
The Dardan javelin, urged with impulse sheer,
Stuck fast; the stubborn root, retentive, grasped the spear.

CI. Stooping, AEneas with his hands essayed
To pluck the steel, and follow with the spear
The foe his feet o'ertook not. Sore dismayed
Then Turnus cried, "O Faunus, heed and hear,
And thou, kind Earth, hold fast the steel, if dear
I held the plant, which Trojan hands profaned."
He prayed, nor Heaven refused a kindly ear.
Long while AEneas at the tough root strained;
Vain was his utmost strength; the biting shaft remained.

CII. While thus he stooped and struggled, prompt to aid,
Juturna, to Metiscus changed anew,
Ran forth, and to her brother reached his blade.
Then Venus, wroth the daring Nymph to view,
Came, and the javelin from the stem withdrew,
Thus, armed afresh, each eager for his chance,
The Daunian trusting to his falchion true,
The Dardan towering with uplifted lance,
High-hearted, face to face, the breathless chiefs advance.

CIII. Then Jove, as from a saffron cloud above
Looked Juno, pleased the doubtful strife to view,
"When shall this end, sweet partner of my love?
What more? Thou know'st it, and hast owned it too,
Divine AEneas to the skies is due.
What wilt thou, chill in cloudland? Was it right
A god with mortal weapons to pursue?
Or give--for thine was all Juturna's might--
Lost Turnus back his sword, and reno