XLIX. Where, in another quarter, stones and trees,
Torn from its banks, a torrent at its height
Had strewn with wide-wrought ravage, Pallas sees
His brave Arcadians break the ranks of fight,
And turn before their Latin foes in flight.
Strange to foot-combat, from his trusty horse
The rough ground lured each rider to alight.
Now with entreaties—'tis his last resource—		433
And now with bitter words he fires their flagging force.
L. "Shame on ye, comrades! whither do ye run?
By your brave deeds, and by the name ye bear,
And great Evander's, by the wars ye won,
By these my hopes, which even now bid fair
E'en with my father's honours to compare.
Trust not your feet; the sword, the sword must hew
A pathway through the foemen. See, 'tis there,
Where foes press thickest, and our friends are few,		442
Our noble country calls for Pallas and for you.
LI. "No gods assail us; mortals fight to-day
With mortals. Lives as many as theirs have we,
As many hands, to match them in the fray.
Earth fails for flight, and yonder lies the sea.
Seaward or Troyward—whither shall we flee?"
So saying, he plunged amid the throng. First foe,
Fell Lagus, doomed an evil fate to dree.
Him, toiling hard a ponderous stone to throw,		451
Between the ribs and spine a whistling dart laid low.
LII. Scarce from his marrow could the victor tear
The steel, so tightly clung it to the bone.
Forth Hisbo leaped, to smite him unaware.
Rash hope! brave Pallas caught him, rushing on,
And through the lung his sword a passage won.
Then Sthenius he slew; beside him bled
Anchemolus, of Rhoetus' stock the son,
The lewd defiler of his stepdame's bed.		460
Fate stopped his lewdness now, and stretched him with the dead.
LIII. Ye, too, young Thymber and Larides fair,
Twin sons of Daucus, did the victor quell.
So like in form and features were the pair,
That e'en their doting parents failed to tell
This one from that. Alas! the sword too well
Divides them now. Here, tumbled on the sward,
At one fierce swoop, the head of Thymber fell.
Thy severed hand, Larides, seeks its lord;		469
The fingers, half alive and quivering, clutch the sword.
LIV. Fired by his words, his deeds the Arcadians view,
And shame and anger arm them to the fray.
Rhoeteus, as past his two-horsed chariot flew
He pierced,—'twas Ilus Pallas meant to slay,
And Ilus gained that moment of delay.
Rhoeteus, in flight from Teuthras and from thee,
His brother Tyres, met the spear midway.
Down from his chariot in the dust rolled he,		478
And, dying, with his heels beat the Rutulian lea.
LV. As when a shepherd, on a summer's day,
The wished-for winds arising, hastes to cast
The flames amid the stubble: far away,
The mid space seized, the line of fire runs fast
From field to field, and broadens with the blast:
And, sitting down, the victor from a height
Surveys the triumph, as the flames rush past.
So all Arcadia's chivalry unite,		487
And round thee, Pallas, throng, and aid thee in the fight.
LVI. But lo, from out the foemen's ranks, athirst
For battle, fierce Halesus charged, and drew
His covering shield before him. Ladon first,
Then Pheres, then Demodocus he slew.
Next, at his throat as bold Strymonius flew,
The glittering falchion severed at a blow
The lifted hand. At Thoas' face he threw
A stone, that smashed the forehead of his foe,		496
And bones, and blood, and brains the spattered earth bestrow.
LVII. Halesus, when a boy, in woods concealed,
His sire, a seer, had reared with tender care.
But soon as death the old man's eyes had sealed,
Fate marked the son for the Evandrian spear.
Him Pallas sought; "O Tiber!" was his prayer,
"True to Halesus let this javelin go.
His arms and spoils thy sacred oak shall bear."
'Twas heard: Halesus, shielding from the foe		505
Imaon, leaves his breast unguarded to the blow.
LVIII. Firm Lausus stands, bearing the battle's brunt,
Nor lets Halesus' death his friends dismay.
Dead falls the first who meets him front to front,
Brave Abas, knot and holdfast of the fray.
Down go Arcadia's chivalry that day,
Down go the Etruscans, and the Teucrians, those
Whom Grecian conquerors had failed to slay.
Man locked with man, amid the conflict's throes,		514
With strength and leaders matched, the rival armies close.