snaps short, and pierces the midriff with the broken
wood. Down he tumbles, disgorging from his breast the
warm life-torrent that leaves him cold, and long choking
gasps smite on his sides. They look round this way and
that: while the same fell arm, nerved by success, is levelling, 5
see! another weapon from the ear-tip. While all
is confusion, the spear has passed through Tagus’ two
temples with whizzing sound, and lies warmly lodged in his
cloven brain. Volscens storms with fury, yet sees nowhere
the author of the wound, nor on whom to vent his 10