ANEIS. BOOK X.
Βοοκ

313

1275

To wrench the darts which in his buckler light,
Urg'd and o'er-labour'd in unequal fight:
At length refolv'd, he throws with all his force
Full at the temples of the warrior horse.
Just where the stroke was aim'd, th' unerring spear
Made way, and stood transfix'd through either ear.
Seiz'd with unwonted pain, furpriz'd with fright,
The wounded steed curvets; and, rais'd upright, 1280
Lights on his feet before; his hoofs behind
Spring up in air aloft, and lash the wind.

Down comes the rider headlong from his height,
His horfe came after with unwieldy weight;

And, floundering forward, pitching on his head, 1285
His lord's incumber'd fhoulder overlaid.

From either hoft the mingled fhouts and cries
Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the fkies.
Eneas, haftening, way'd his fatal sword

High o'er his head, with this reproachful word:
Now, where are now thy vaunts, the fierce difdain
Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty strain ?

Struggling, and wildly staring on the skies,

With scarce recover'd fight, he thus replies:

1290

Why these infulting words, this waste of breath, 1295
To fouls undaunted, and fecure of death?

'Tis no difhonour for the brave to die,
Nor caine I here with hope of victory.
Nor afk I life, nor fought with that design:
As I had us'd my fortune, use thou thine.
My dying fon contracted no fuch band;
The gift is hateful from his murderer's hand.

1300

For

1395

For this, this only favour let me fue:
If pity can to conquer'd foes be due,
Refuse it not but let my body have
The last retreat of human-kind, a grave.
Too well I know th' infulting people's hate;
Protect me from their vengeance after fate :
This refuge for my poor remains provide,
And lay my much-lov'd Laufus by my fide.
He said, and to the sword his throat apply'd.
The crimson ftream diftain'd his arms around,
And the disdainful foul came rushing through the
wound.

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