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walls, implore as they may: and a piteous carnage ensues,
these guarding the approach sword in hand, those rushing
on the sword's point. Some, borne on by the deluge,
stream headlong into the moat; some in blind agony,
spurring their horses, charge as with battering-rams the 5
portals and their stubborn barriers. Nay, the very matrons
on the walls in the intensity of the struggle, prompted
by true patriot spirit at sight of Camilla, fling darts from
their quivering hands, and make hard oak-stakes and
seared truncheons do the work of steel, hot and headlong, 10
and fain would be the first to die for their city.

Meantime the cruel news floods Turnus' ears in his forest-ambush,
as Acca tells the warrior her tale of mighty terror:
the Volscian ranks destroyed, Camilla slain, the enemy
coming on like a torrent, sweeping all before their victorious 15
onslaught, the alarm already wafted to the walls.
He, all on fire (for even such is Jove's stern requirement),
quits his post on the hills, leaves the impregnable forest.
Scarce had he passed from their sight and occupied the
plain, when father Æneas, entering the unguarded pass, 20
scales the hill-top, and issues through the shadowy wood.
So the two rivals march cityward at full speed, each with
all his army, nor long is the intervening distance; at the
same moment Æneas looked far over the plains all smoking
with dust, and saw the host of Laurentum, and Turnus was 25
aware of fell Æneas in battle array, and heard the onward
tramp of feet and the neighing of steeds. Instantly they
were for closing in fight and throwing for the stake of combat;
but the time was come for reddening Phœbus to bathe
his wearied team in the Hiberian flood, and bring back 30
night on the steps of retreating day. So they encamp
before the city, and make their ramparts strong.