XCIII. Madly to grasp the dagger in his hand,
And through his ribs drive home the naked blade,
Or plunge into the deep, and swim to land,
And, armed, once more the Teucrian foes invade.
Thrice, but in vain, each venture he essayed.
Thrice Heaven's high queen, in pity fain to save,
Held back the youth, and from his purpose stayed.
And borne along by favouring tide and wave,		829
On to his father's town the level deep he clave.

XCIV. Jove prompting, fierce Mezentius now the fight
Takes up, and charges at the Teucrian foes.
And, hurrying up, the Tuscan troops unite.
All against one—one only—these and those
Their gathered hate and crowding darts oppose.
Unmoved he stands, as when a rocky steep
In ocean, bare to every blast that blows,
Around whose base the savage waves upleap,		838
Braves all the threats of heaven, and buffets of the deep.
XCV. Hebrus he slew, from Dolichaon sprung,
Then Latagus, then Palmus, as he fled.
Full in the face of Latagus he flung
A monstrous stone, that stretched him with the dead.
Palmus, with severed hamstring, next he sped,
And rolled him helpless. Lausus takes his gear;
The shining crest he fits upon his head,
And dons the breastplate. 'Neath the conqueror's spear		847
Phrygian Evanthes falls, and Paris' friend and peer,
XCVI. Young Mimas, whom to Amycus that night
Theano bore, when, big with Ilion's bane,
Queen Hecuba brought Paris forth to light.
Now Paris sleeps upon his native plain,
But Mimas on a foreign shore is slain.
As when a wild-boar, hounded from the hill,
Who long on pine-clad Venulus hath lain,
Or in Laurentum's marish fed his fill,		856
Now in the toils caught fast, before his foes stands still,
XCVII. And snorts with rage, and rears his bristling back;
None dares approach him, but aloof they wait,
Safe-shouting, and with distant darts attack;
E'en so, of those who burn with righteous hate,
None dares against Mezentius try his fate.
But cries are hurled, and distant missiles plied,
While he, undaunted, but in desperate strait,
Gnashes his teeth, and from his shield's tough hide		865
Shakes off the darts in showers, and shifts from side to side.
XCVIII. From ancient Corythus came Acron there,
A Greek, in exile from his half-won bride.
Him, dealing havoc in the ranks, elsewhere
Mezentius marked; the purple plumes he eyed,
The robe his loved one for her lord had dyed.
As when a lion, prowling to and fro,
Sore pinched with hunger, round the fold, hath spied
A stag tall-antlered, or a timorous roe,		874
Ghastly he grins, erect his horrid mane doth show;
XCIX. Prone o'er his victim, to the flesh he clings,
And laps the gore; so, burning in his zeal,
The fierce Mezentius at his foemen springs.
Poor Acron falls, and earth with dying heel
Spurns, and the red blood stains the splintered steel.
Orodes fled; Mezentius marks his flight,
And scorns with lance a covert wound to deal,
But face to face confronts him in the fight,		883
Courage, not craft, prevails, and might o'ermatches might.
C. With foot and spear upon him, "See," he cries,
"Their champion; see the great Orodes slain!"
All shout applause, but, dying, he replies,
"Strange foe, not long thy triumph shall remain;
Like fate awaits thee, on the self-same plain."
"Die!" said Mezentius, with a smile of spite,
"Jove cares for me," and plucked the shaft again.
Grim rest and iron slumber seal his sight;		892
The drooping eyelids close on everlasting night.
CI. Now Cædicus made great Alcathous fall,
Sacrator killed Hydaspes; Rapo too
Parthenius and Orses, strong and tall;
Messapus Clonius, whom his steed o'erthrew,
And, foot to foot, Lycaon's son he slew,
Brave Ericetes. Valerus with a blow
Felled Agis, Lycia' s warrior. Salius flew
At Thronius, but Nealces lays him low,		901
Skilled with the flying dart and far-deceiving bow.