ar,
A stranger, and those plighted hands. Four youths of Sulmo wrought,
And the like tale that Ufens erst into the world's life brought,
He takes alive to slay them--gifts for that great ghost's avail,
And with a shower of captive blood to slake the dead men's bale. 520
Then next at Magus from afar the shaft of bane he sent;
Deftly he cowered, and on above the quivering weapon went,
And clasping both AEneas' knees thus spake the suppliant one:

"O by thy father's ghost, by hope Iulus hath begun,
I pray thee for my sire and son my life yet let me win:
I have a high house, silver wrought is dug adown therein,
A talent's weight, and store therewith of wrought and unwrought gold:
This will not snatch the victory from out the Teucrian's hold,
Nor can the life of one alone such mighty matter make."

So he, but answering thereunto this word AEneas spake: 530
"Thy gold and silver talent's weight, whereof thou tell'st such store,
Spare for thy sons! thy Turnus slew such chaffering of war
When Pallas' death he brought about a little while ago;
So deems my sire Anchises' ghost, Iulus deemeth so."
Then with his left he caught the helm and hilt-deep thrust the blade
Into the back-bent throat of him e'en as the prayer he prayed.

Not far hence was Haemonides, Phoebus' and Trivia's priest,
The holy fillets on his brow, his glory well increased
With glorious arms, and glittering gear shining on every limb.
Him the King chaseth o'er the field, and, standing over him, 540
Hides him in mighty dusk of death; whose gleaned battle-gear,
A gift to thee, O battle-god, back doth Serestus bear.
Then Caeculus of Vulcan's stem the hedge of battle fills,
And Umbro cometh unto fight down from the Marsian hills.
On them his rage the Dardan child let slip. But next his blade
Anxur's left hand and orbed shield upon the meadow laid.
Proud things had Anxur said, and deemed his word was matched by might,
And so perchance he raised his soul up to the heavenly height,
And hoary eld he looked to see, and many a peaceful year.
Tarquitius, proud of heart and soul, in glittering battle-gear, 550
Whom the nymph Dryope of yore to woodland Faunus gave,
Came thrusting thwart his fiery way; his back-drawn spear he drave,
Pinning his mail-coat unto him, and mighty mass of shield:
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