XL. Here suddenly he bids them turn the prow,
And shouts aloud, "Now, now, my chosen band,
Lean to your oars; strive lustily and row.
Lift the keel onward, till it cleaves the strand,
And ploughs its furrow in the foeman's land.
Let the bark break, with such a haven here
What harm, if once upon the shore we stand?"
So Tarchon spake; his comrades, with a cheer,		352
Rise on the smooth-shaved thwarts, and sweep the foaming mere.
XLI. So, one by one, they gain the land, and, whole
And scatheless, on the Latin shore abide.
All safe but Tarchon. Dashed upon a shoal,
Long on a rock's unequal ridge astride,
In doubtful balance swayed from side to side,
His vessel hangs, and back the waves doth beat,
Then breaks, and leaves them tangled in the tide
'Twixt planks and oars, while, ebbing to retreat,		361
The shrinking waves draw back, and wash them from their feet.

XLII. Nor loiters Turnus; eager to attack,
Along the shore he marshals his array,
To meet the foe, and drive the Teucrians back.
The trumpet sounds: the Latin churls straightway
Æneas routs, first omen of the day,
Huge Theron slain, their mightiest, who in pride
Of strength, rushed forth and dared him to the fray.
Through quilted brass the Dardan sword he plied,		370
Through tunic stiff with gold, and pierced th' unguarded side.
XLIII. Lichas he smites, who vowed his infant life,
Ripped from his mother, dying in her pain,
To Phoebus, freed from perils of the knife.
Huge Gyas, brawny Cisseus press the plain,
As, club in hand, they strew the Tuscan train.
Naught now avail those stalwart arms, that plied
The weapons of Alcides; all in vain
They boast their sire Melampus, comrade tried		379
Of Hercules, while earth his toilsome tasks supplied.
XLIV. Lo, full at Pharus, in his bawling mouth
He plants a dart. Thou, Cydon, too, in quest
Of Clytius, blooming with the down of youth,
Thy latest joy, had'st laid thy loves to rest,
Slain by the Dardan; but around thee pressed
Old Phorcus' sons. Seven brethren bold are there,
Seven darts they throw. These helm and shield arrest,
Those, turned aside by Venus' gentle care		388
Just graze the Dardan's frame, and, grazing, glance in air.
XLV. Then cried Æneas to Achates true,
"Quick, hand me store of weapons; none in vain
This arm shall hurl at yon Rutulian crew,
Not one of all that whilom knew the stain
Of Argive blood upon the Trojan plain."
So saying, he snatched, and in a moment threw
His mighty spear, that, hurtling, rent in twain
The brazen plates of Mæon's shield, and through		397
The breastplate pierced the breast, nor faltered as it flew.
XLVI. Up ran, and raised his brother, as he lay,
Alcanor. Shrill another javelin sung,
And pierced his arm, and, reddening, held its way,
And from his shoulders by the sinews hung
The dying hand. Then straight, the dart outwrung,
His brother Numitor the barb let fly
Full at Æneas. In his face he flung,
But failed to smite. The weapon, turned awry,		406
Missed the intended mark, and grazed Achates' thigh.
XLVII. Up Clausus came, of Cures, in the pride
Of youth. His stark spear, urged with forceful sway,
Through Dryops' throat, beneath the chin, he plied,
And voice and life forsook him, as he lay,
Spewing thick gore, his forehead in the clay.
Three Thracians next, three sons of Idas bleed.
Ismarians these. Halæsus to the fray
Brings his Auruncan bands, and Neptune's seed,		415
Messapus, too, comes up, the tamer of the steed.
XLVIII. Each side strives hard the other's ground to win.
E'en on Ausonia's threshold raves the fray.
As in the broad air warring winds begin
The battle, matched in strength and rage, nor they,
The winds themselves, nor clouds nor sea give way,
All locked in strife, and struggling as they can,
And long in doubtful balance hangs the day,
So meet the ranks, and mingle in the van,		424
And foot clings close to foot, and man is massed with man.