At once the fateful bow Twanged; with a whirr the fateful arrow flew, And pierced the head of Remulus.

"Now go, And teach thy proud tongue to insult a foe, And scoff at Trojan valour.

_This_ reply Twice-captured Phrygians to thy taunts bestow." Ascanius spoke; the Teucrians with a cry, Press on, their joyous hearts uplifting to the sky.
LXXXIII.

Meanwhile, Apollo from his cloudy car The Ausonian host, and leaguered town descries, And calls the youthful conqueror from afar: "Hail to thy maiden prowess; yonder lies Thy path, brave boy, to glory and the skies.
O sons of Gods, and sire of Gods to be, All wars shall cease beneath the race to rise From great Assaracus.

Nor thine, nor thee Shall narrow Troy contain; so stands the Fate's decree." LXXXIV.