Their lives, for godlike freedom, they bequeath,
And crowd each other to be first in death.
Meantime to Turnus, ambushed in the shade,
With heavy tidings came the unhappy maid:—
"The Volscians overthrown—Camilla killed—
The foes entirely masters of the field,
Like a resistless flood, come rolling on:
The cry goes off the plain, and thickens to the town."
Inflamed with rage, (for so the Furies fire
The Daunian's breast, and so the Fates require,)