for Jove sent down from the sky celestial Iris, with no
gentle message for his sister’s ear, if Turnus retire not from 5
the Teucrians’ lofty ramparts. So now the warrior cannot
hold his own with shield or sword; such a deluge of darts
overwhelms him. Round his hollow temples the helmet
echoes with ceaseless ringing; the solid plates of brass
give way beneath the stones; the horsehair crest is struck 10
from his head; his shield’s boss cannot stand the blows;
faster and faster they hail their spears, the Trojans and
fiery Mnestheus. Over all his frame flows the sweat and