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each charges on the foe. Ausonia's strand
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is one wide strife. As when o'er leagues of air
the envious winds give battle to their peers,
well-matched in rage and power; and neither they
nor clouds above, nor plunging seas below
will end the doubtful war, but each withstands
the onset of the whole—in such wild way
the line of Trojans on the Latian line
hurls itself, limb on limb and man on man.
But at a distance where the river's flood
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had scattered rolling boulders and torn trees
uprooted from the shore, young Pallas spied
th' Arcadian band, unused to fight on foot,
in full retreat, the Latins following close—
who also for the roughness of the ground
were all unmounted: he (the last resource
of men in straits) to wild entreaty turned
and taunts, enkindling their faint hearts anew:
“Whither, my men! O, by your own brave deeds,
O, by our lord Evander's happy wars,
the proud hopes I had to make my name
a rival glory,—think not ye can fly!
Your swords alone can carve ye the safe way
straight through your foes. Where yonder warrior-throng
is fiercest, thickest, there and only there
your Country's honor calls for men like you,
and for your captain Pallas. Nay, no gods
against us fight; we are but mortal men
pressed by a mortal foe. Not more than ours
the number of their lives or swords. Behold,
the barrier of yonder spreading sea
emprisons us, and for a craven flight
yon lands are all too small. Ha! Shall we steer
across the sea to Troy?” He said, and sprang
full in the centre of his gathered foes.
First in his path was Lagus, thither led
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by evil stars; whom, as he tried to lift
a heavy stone, the shaft of Pallas pierced
where ribs and spine divide: backward he drew
the clinging spear; But Hisbo from above
