nwhile Turnus' gracious sister bids him take Lausus' room, and his
fleet chariot parts the ranks. When he saw his comrades, 'It is time,'
he cried, 'to stay from battle. I alone must assail Pallas; to me and
none other Pallas is due; I would his father himself were here to see.'
So speaks he, and his Rutulians draw back from a level space at his
bidding. But then as they withdrew, he, wondering at the haughty
command, stands in amaze at Turnus, his eyes scanning the vast frame,
and his fierce glance perusing him from afar. And with these words he
returns the words of the monarch: 'For me, my praise shall even now be
in the lordly spoils I win, or in illustrious death: my father will bear
calmly either lot: away with menaces.' He speaks, and advances into the
level ring. The Arcadians' blood gathers chill about their hearts.
Turnus leaps from his chariot and prepares to close with him. And as a
lion sees from some lofty outlook a bull stand far off on the plain
revolving battle, and flies at him, even such to see is Turnus' coming.
When Pallas deemed him within reach of a spear-throw, he advances, if so
chance may assist the daring of his overmatched strength, and thus cries
into the depth of sky: 'By my father's hospitality and the board whereto
thou camest a wanderer, on thee I call, Alcides; be favourable to my
high emprise; let Turnus even in death discern me stripping his
blood-stained armour, and his swooning eyes endure the sight of his
conqueror.' Alcides heard him, and deep in his heart he stifled a heavy
sigh, and let idle tears fall. Then with kindly words the father accosts
his son: 'Each hath his own appointed day; short and irrecoverable
[468-502]is the span of life for all: but to spread renown by deeds is
the task of valour. Under high Troy town many and many a god's son fell;
nay, mine own child Sarpedon likewise perished. Turnus too his own fate
summons, and his allotted period hath reached the goal.' So speaks he,
and turns his eyes away from the Rutulian fields. But Pallas hurls his
spear with all his strength, and pulls his sword flashing out of the
hollow scabbard. The flying spear lights where the armour rises high
above the shoulder, and, forcing a way through the shield's rim, ceased
not till it drew blood from mighty Turnus. At this Turnus long poises
the spear-shaft with its sharp steel head, and hurls it on Pallas with
these words: _See thou if our weapon have not a keener point._ He ended;
but