Fearful besides of what in fight had passed,
His hands and hagard eyes to heaven he cast:—
"O Jove!" he cried—"for what offence have I
Deserved to bear this endless infamy?
Whence am I forced, and whither am I borne?
How, and with what reproach, shall I return?
Shall ever I behold the Latian plain,
Or see Laurentum's lofty towers again?
What will they say of their deserting chief?
The war was mine: I fly from their relief!