}
{ Thus lessened in her form, with frightful cries
{ The Fury round unhappy Turnus flies,
{ Flaps on his shield, and flutters o'er his eyes.
A lazy chilness crept along his blood;
Choked was his voice; his hair with horror stood.
Juturna from afar beheld her fly,
And knew the ill omen, by her screaming cry,
And stridor of her wing. Amazed with fear,
Her beauteous breast she beat, and rent her flowing hair.