On flies the weapon, strikes where the margin of the
harness rises toward the shoulder, and forcing its way
through the buckler’s edge, at last even grazed the mighty 20
frame of Turnus. Then Turnus, long poising his beam
with its point of sharp steel, hurls it at Pallas, with these
words: “See whether our weapon be not the keener.”
So he: while cleaving those many plates of iron and
brass, spite of the bull-hides wound oft and oft about, 25
the point strikes through the shield’s midst with quivering
impact, and pierces the corselet’s barrier and the