This, while the Trojans fled, the toughness held;But, vain against the great Vulcanian shield, The mortal-temper'd steel deceiv'd his hand:
The shiver'd fragments shone amid the sand.
Surpris'd with fear, he fled along the field, And now forthright, and now in orbits wheel'd;For here the Trojan troops the list surround, And there the pass is clos'd with pools and marshy ground.
Aeneas hastens, tho' with heavier pace-
His wound, so newly knit, retards the chase, And oft his trembling knees their aid refuse-Yet, pressing foot by foot, his foe pursues.
Thus, when a fearful stag is clos'd around With crimson toils, or in a river found, High on the bank the deep-mouth'd hound appears, Still opening, following still, where'er he steers;The persecuted creature, to and fro, Turns here and there, to scape his Umbrian foe:
Steep is th' ascent, and, if he gains the land, The purple death is pitch'd along the strand.
His eager foe, determin'd to the chase, Stretch'd at his length, gains ground at ev'ry pace;Now to his beamy head he makes his way, And now he holds, or thinks he holds, his prey:
Just at the pinch, the stag springs out with fear;He bites the wind, and fills his sounding jaws with air:
The rocks, the lakes, the meadows ring with cries;The mortal tumult mounts, and thunders in the skies.
Thus flies the Daunian prince, and, flying, blames His tardy troops, and, calling by their names, Demands his trusty sword.The Trojan threats The realm with ruin, and their ancient seats To lay in ashes, if they dare supply With arms or aid his vanquish'd enemy:
Thus menacing, he still pursues the course, With vigor, tho' diminish'd of his force.
Ten times already round the listed place One chief had fled, and t' other giv'n the chase:
No trivial prize is play'd; for on the life Or death of Turnus now depends the strife.
Within the space, an olive tree had stood, A sacred shade, a venerable wood, For vows to Faunus paid, the Latins' guardian god.